“I-I’ll eat m-more.”
The mistress of Tildyen had changed from someone who could barely finish half his meals. Wherever he had been, his robe was covered in mud and leaves, and his white face was smudged with dirt, looking quite disheveled. Anya urgently spoke to the maid who had entered to take away the meal tray.
“Something seems strange. Did he really just visit the library?”
The maid who was carrying the empty bowl on a wooden tray carefully reported this to Gregos as she headed toward the kitchen. Gregos recalled the parchment note left on the bedside table this morning. Anya, who had claimed to be visiting the library, looked as if he’d been rolling down a mountain.
‘I-I’m so c-clumsy that I f-fell down the s-stairs.’
Anya had stuttered severely as he made his excuse. Then he devoured every last morsel of the meal the maid had brought. It was impossible to imagine this was the same person who usually ate only bird-sized portions. He even added a request for more food with a shy face. Gregos’s eyes narrowed slightly as he heard the maid’s report.
The next day, and the day after that, were the same. The mistress, who usually stayed confined to his bedroom gazing out the window, was now rushing to the library at the crack of dawn as if possessed.
“Master, you must be hungry. Should I bring snacks to the library?”
“N-no. In the a-afternoon, I’m t-taking lessons from L-Lord Sabelli.”
Anya immediately declined. Though his expression was apologetic, he didn’t withdraw his refusal. If it involved Sabelli Nox, there probably wasn’t much to worry about. Gregos decided to wait and observe for now.
“You’re catching it well now.”
The strange accent of unknown origin from beyond the empire praised him, full of amusement. Anya snatched the wooden sword tossed to him as soon as he entered the clearing and grinned. He was now handling the sword fairly well, though he was still a novice far from even an apprentice’s level.
“Right side.”
Sabelli’s wooden sword jabbed Anya’s right waist. He hadn’t even noticed when Sabelli had approached.
“You died again.”
Along with the chilling voice, the sword stabbed his left thigh again.
“Left side. You just received a fatal wound.”
A sense of determination arose in him. It was an extremely unfamiliar emotion. Anya adjusted his grip on the sword and charged at Sabelli. Sabelli shifted one foot back, bent his knee, and held his sword horizontally before thrusting it forward. A sharp pain was felt in Anya’s abdomen. His knees buckled automatically. The wooden sword fell onto the snow. Anya looked up at Sabelli with a bewildered face.
“You died again, boy.”
Anya gripped the wooden sword again and rose to his feet. The boy spat on the snow to endure the pain. It was a hooligan-like behavior he’d never done before in his life. Sabelli burst out laughing and flicked his finger. Come, attack.
* * *
“You seem to be busy going somewhere.”
Before returning to his bedroom, Anya was hurriedly walking with several old books from the library for his perfect crime. His whole body was sore and screaming in pain, but his steps were light as if he could fly. The cold northern wind felt like a cool breeze that soothed his sweat. Just as he was turning a corner, someone was leaning against the wall. Anya swallowed a silent scream.
“L-Lord Riario?”
Riario smiled and took the books Anya was carrying.
“Aren’t these heavy?”
Although he had seen Riario at the recent banquet, it had been a long time since they had spoken. Riario casually scanned the titles of the books. <History of the Empire>, <The First Goddess and Tanon>. They were ordinary history books.
“I hear you’ve been studying with Sabelli Nox lately?”
Riario asked kindly, matching his pace with Anya’s. The late afternoon sun was creating long shadows through the arched corridor outside.
“Y-yes…”
If swordsmanship counted as study, then yes, it was studying. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a lie.
“Here.”
Suddenly, Riario’s hand reached out. Anya retracted his neck like a turtle. Riario smiled and brushed off the snow stuck in his hair.
“Did it snow today?”
The sky had been unusually clear without a single cloud. He must have gotten snow in his hair from rolling around in the snowfield during training earlier. He had roughly dusted off his robe but hadn’t managed to tidy his hair.
“Your Highness.”
Riario quietly stopped Anya. He still wore a smiling face, but his eyes were hardly smiling.
“Sabelli Nox is not exactly a normal person.”
The boy’s lips stiffened.
“E-even if it’s you, L-Lord Riario, y-you shouldn’t s-say that.”
The mistress who once couldn’t even meet his gaze was now looking straight at him. Though stuttering, he spoke his mind. Whether this was the right change remained to be seen. Riario thought it somehow resembled the calm before a snowstorm.
“I understand Your Highness’s impatience.”
Riario quietly tried to reason with the mistress.
“If you wait just a little longer, Tildyen will eventually recognize Your Highness.”
Riario hoped that Anya would be at a loss, like when he had given him the ring. But instead, Anya stepped back, acting as if his feet were numb. That made Riario uneasy.
“N-no. They w-will never do that.”
Although Anya knew it would seem somewhat rude and cold, he turned away. Somehow, a wave of sadness swept over him. The boy’s steps quickened. The sunset light wavered through the arched windows. Murky dust settled wherever the boy disappeared.
“Ah, damn it.”
That old man must have done something, no doubt about it.
The smile quickly faded from Riario’s face. He hurriedly headed toward the study where Evernight was.
* * *
“Hahaha. Listen, everyone. Something interesting will happen soon.”
In one corner of the dining hall, crudely built with wooden planks near the training grounds, Rips Mohan was laughing loudly, thoroughly drunk. The training ground dining hall was mainly used by apprentices or lower knights after training, not by high-ranking knights. Thanks to the new master of Tildyen excavating numerous ancient artifacts from beyond the Wall, the previously inadequate meals had become noticeably abundant.
“Training is already killing me, so if you’re just bluffing, I won’t let it slide. Stop stalling and speak up.”
An impatient apprentice gulped down his wine and roughly set it down on the table. Other lower knights seated around Rips Mohan tried to calm them with flushed faces. They were the usual gang that hung around with Rips Mohan.
“Why is everyone so sensitive? Just listen first.”
“Your guard unit might not have had training today, but we had sparring practice with Lord Sisou.”
With that single statement, the hall fell into deep silence. A silence of mourning. Everyone ached all over from rolling on the ground all day. Their leather armor was dirty, and their boots were a mess from the mud created by melting snow.
Training in Tildyen was far more grueling than in other territories. Moreover, to earn the title of a high-ranking knight, one had to behead someone, so with bad luck, one might rot as an apprentice or lower knight for life.
“Ah, so that’s why you all look half-dead.”
Let me pour you another. Rips Mohan grabbed a passing maid. The young maid silently poured red wine into a cup as large as the man’s face. His Adam’s apple moved prominently up and down as he swallowed the wine.
“There will be an honor duel soon.”
“Is it you, Rips Mohan?”
Those who had just entered the dining hall after completing arduous training were extremely hungry, but they perked up their ears at the mention of an “honor duel.” But to be frank, Rips Mohan’s swordsmanship was average. He would likely be split in half before even getting close to a high-ranking knight. Nevertheless, Rips Mohan showed no fear and held his chest proudly. Being a man of good build to begin with, he looked even bigger today.
“Yes. I’ll soon engage in an honor duel.”
Everyone turned away with bored faces. Rips Mohan’s honor duel would surely end in less than five minutes. Well, we’ll have to clear away some poor fellow’s corpse.
“Who’s the opponent?”
Someone still asked out of courtesy. One corner of Rips Mohan’s lips curved up. He downed the rest of his drink in one go. Rips Mohan roughly wiped the red wine that had spilled down his chin with his sleeve and burst into laughter.
“Anya Evernight. The Prince.”
Soon, the dining hall was filled with thunderous shouts and screams. Are you in your right mind? You’re crazy, completely crazy. While they all said this, they privately reassessed Rips Mohan. They had thought him an unremarkable lower knight, but he had spirit. Someone pursed their lips, calling it a cowardly battle, but soon, drunk, revealed their true thoughts.
“You’re just jealous, jealous!”
If one won an honor duel, they would receive a promotion or a reward, and since the opponent was the Prince, it was naturally a battle they would win. And if Rips Mohan became the executioner himself and struck down the Prince’s head, it might wash away decades of bitterness.
Outside the window of the chaotic dining hall sat an owl. Its golden eyes captured their scene completely. The creature soon flew into the air with a long hoot.
