Chapter 18
The Margrave of Béarn, Obert Encinas de Béarn, was a warrior by nature.
From the moment he could climb into a saddle without help, the young margrave had gone to war with a sword as tall as he was, fighting the heretics who crossed the mountains.
While other noble children were indulging in their parents’ affection, he had to breathe in the rank stench of blood on the battlefield and wipe the blood from his blade himself.
He’d spent his birthdays—and even the coming-of-age ceremony that happened only once in a lifetime—inside a filthy military tent, laughing heartily as he raised a pewter mug full of beer with his grimy adjutants.
Even now, with his hair going gray, he still commanded his troops at the very front of the line.
He no longer fought personally as he had in those days, but every so often, he would cut down with a single stroke any heretic who charged at him.
That was how he had spent his entire life, fighting fiercely on the battlefield.
As a result, Obert had naturally developed an instinctive aversion to the soft, pampered dandies of the capital.
He was a man who let his sword speak before his words.
The insipid flattery buzzing in his ears was nothing but irritating to listen to.
That was why the flies swarming around the lord of the West, who had come to the capital for the first time in ages, hadn’t managed to get so much as a crumb.
By contrast, Obert had a soft spot for warriors hardened by real combat.
He was an incorrigible old man who couldn’t help smiling whenever he saw children sparring with swords as he walked by.
He was also a hopelessly immature man who would spend an entire day discussing swordsmanship with some unknown knight he happened to meet.
Naturally, Obert had a vague fondness for the Grand Duke Dmitri Blansard Verbritz, the Sword of the Empire and Guardian of the North, standing before him.
Even if the Grand Duke had been on the balcony behind drawn curtains with his precious daughter.
‘Yes, a man like that would be worthy of taking care of our daughter.’
Obert simply gave a hearty laugh and nodded.
#.
“Ah, um… Margrave. Please, don’t get the wrong idea.”
The Grand Duke’s gentle voice, which had been speaking so pleasantly until then, changed in an instant.
At the unexpected arrival, the Grand Duke’s black eyes darted about.
Obert looked at the Grand Duke and gave him a sunny smile.
“Hahaha! Your Grace! I’ve been wanting to introduce myself ever since we were on the train to the capital. What a stroke of luck that we’ve met now!”
Obert laughed so heartily that his voice carried all the way to the far end of the corridor.
Then Obert’s rough hand gently nudged Eleonore’s white back, wrapped in her pure-white dress, forward.
“Now, Eli. Pay your respects. This is His Grace, the Grand Duke Dmitri.”
At his touch, Eleonore looked back and forth between the Grand Duke and her father.
To be honest, she wasn’t particularly keen on it.
He was the man who’d been teasing her just moments ago. She felt like punching that smug face of his.
But when she saw the Grand Duke’s slick expression contort at her father’s words,
Eleonore set aside her earlier thoughts for the moment and became a demure young lady, lowering her head before the Grand Duke.
“I am Eleonore Arraena de Béarn, Your Grace.”
Her voice was clear and bright.
It was the kind of refreshing voice that could clear the muddled head of even a man dead drunk.
But perhaps even that lovely voice was giving him a headache, because the Grand Duke raised a hand to his temple.
Only moments ago, the girl before him had been adorable, fuming and yelling at him in a fit of pique.
She’d reminded him of the younger sister he’d left behind in the North, so he’d teased her all the more while thinking of his sister.
That was certainly how it had been.
Yet somehow, she had become an elegant lady and was now paying him her respects.
And it was plain from her father’s gaze that he wanted to set his daughter up with him.
Were people from the West always like this?
Or was this simply what women were like?
Having received such a formal greeting, the Grand Duke had no choice but to bow in return to the girl he’d been teasing just moments ago.
“I am Dmitri Blansard Verbritz. My lady, I was rather rude to you just now.”
Seeing the Grand Duke’s expression twist now and then beneath his carefully composed facade, Eleonore spoke in an even more exaggerated voice.
“Not at all. I’m only embarrassed that I showed such an unseemly side of myself before Your Grace.”
The only ones enjoying this little game of masks between the two were Margrave Obert, watching with a pleased smile, and Daphne, who was observing them closely from a step behind.
Obert chuckled heartily, then spoke to Daphne, who was quietly standing behind the pair.
“She may be my daughter, but aren’t they a fine pair? What do you think back there?”
“Indeed. The two of them suit each other very well.”
Unlike Obert, Daphne’s voice held not the slightest trace of emotion.
But despite that cold tone, the corners of her mouth were gently curled upward.
Obert seemed quite satisfied with Daphne’s answer.
He nodded his graying head, then turned to look at Dmitri.
“Your Grace, would you care to visit our townhouse sometime soon?”
“Y-Your townhouse?”
Caught off guard by the unexpected invitation, Dmitri stammered slightly.
“Since fate brought us together like this, why don’t you join my daughter for a meal? To be honest, I wanted to bring it up at the station in the capital, but you’d disappeared from sight before I knew it.”
“Ahaha… Yes, that’s right.”
Dmitri awkwardly laughed off Obert’s intense gaze.
But the bulwark of the West wasn’t the sort of man to let his prey get away so easily.
“In any case, come to our townhouse and have a meal with us. And while you’re there, take the opportunity to have a nice, long talk with my daughter.”
“Margrave, I’m grateful for the invitation, but I have so much state business to attend to—”
“Surely, after being together with my daughter on a balcony with the curtains drawn, you don’t intend to simply abandon her?”
In that instant, sparks flashed in the margrave’s brown eyes.
Of course, there was no way he’d actually do that. But under the full force of the margrave’s gaze, that was exactly how Dmitri felt.
“I-if that’s the case, I’ll try to make some time…”
“Excellent! Just send me a time that’s convenient for you, and I’ll make the arrangements and send a carriage. Hahaha!”
#.
The golden-haired father and daughter left the balcony only after thoroughly scrambling the thoughts of the Sword of the Empire and Guardian of the North, Grand Duke Dmitri Blansard Verbritz.
Once they were alone again on the balcony, Dmitri looked at Daphne with a woeful expression.
“Ugh… What am I going to do, Daphne? I think I’m doomed.”
In response to her master’s whining, so at odds with his grand title, Daphne answered in a bright, sunny voice she had never used before.
“Your Grace, I don’t think House Béarn would be so bad.”
“What? It wouldn’t be so bad?”
Dmitri jumped to his feet, bristling.
Daphne, however, seemed quite used to seeing her master act like this.
“Regardless, Your Grace can’t live alone forever, can you?”
“Ugh… I wish I could.”
Coolly ignoring Dmitri’s reply, Daphne continued.
“Honestly, if it’s a young lady like Lady Eleonore, shouldn’t Your Grace be bowing down and begging to take her as your wife?”
Hey, what’s wrong with me? I look pretty decent, don’t I?
Dmitri bristled, about to shoot back at Daphne.
But as the thought he’d just had came back to him, he had to swallow the words that had risen to his lips.
Despite the wild first impression she’d made, the young Lady Eleonore had respectfully paid her respects, radiating a pristine elegance unlike anything in the world beneath her pure-white dress.
As he pictured her like that again, he had to admit Daphne was right, both objectively and subjectively.
The Sword of the Empire and Guardian of the North wasn’t so shameless as to deny it.
Daphne’s voice grew serious once more.
“As you’ve been saying all along, there’s troubling activity beyond the Wall. And yet the Emperor is avoiding even meeting with you, let alone providing food or other support.”
At her words, Dmitri gave a quiet nod.
The situation in the North wasn’t good. And nine-tenths of the problem came down to food.
They had barely made it through last winter. Since they couldn’t cut the rations of the soldiers and knights guarding the Wall, the people of the northern territories had gone hungry instead, and discontent was running high in many ways.
It was a barren land where farming was difficult. Even if they had somehow survived the previous winter, the coming one would be a problem. The Verbritz Grand Ducal House’s storehouses had been nearly empty since last winter.
That was why the Grand Duke had come to the capital in person.
“Sigh. Even so, what am I supposed to do with a kid who’s barely old enough to have dried the blood from his head?”
At his sigh, which seemed to sink deep into the plush carpet, Daphne gently swayed her short-cropped blonde hair and chided Dmitri.
“Your Grace, Lady Eleonore is only a year younger than the Grand Duchess. And you’re the same age as Young Count Albris. There’s an age difference, yes, but it’s hardly enough to warrant such a fuss.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I don’t know. Anyway, tell House Béarn I’m far too busy with state affairs to possibly make time—”
“If you say that, I’ll tell the Grand Duchess the whole truth about what you’ve been up to.”
Dmitri’s former adjutant had pressed on his one weakness. Forgetting his station, he barked at her.
“Seriously! How can you threaten me with something so unfair?”
“It’s just one meal. You bow and scrape, begging for a chance to meet the Emperor, so why are you making such a fuss about meeting a lovely young lady?”
“Fine! I get it, I get it!”
Ruffling his neatly groomed black hair, Dmitri surrendered.
“Daphne, just work out a schedule and send it to the margrave.”
At her master’s command, Daphne nodded, her short hair bobbing.
Her master could slice through the thick skin of trolls and even ogres with a single stroke, but…
Whenever she saw him like this, Daphne couldn’t help wondering if that layabout really was the Sword of the Empire and Guardian of the North.
#3. Beneath the Splendid Hall and the Dark Balcony — End