Chapter 71
Even though it was the day before the hunting tournament, Santpol’s training grounds were bustling from early morning.
Michelle came to find Vieta as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and Vieta followed her without a word.
Today was the final day of the deadline Michelle had agreed to with Blanc.
Whether Blanc decided to help Michelle or not, Vieta also had to make a decision.
Strictly speaking, helping Michelle offered Vieta no benefit whatsoever.
Her final mission was to protect the Empire, after all.
Without overthinking it,
The moment Madak or Sijak bared its claws at the Empire, Vieta only had to obtain the goddess’s permission and strike it down by force, even if that meant bearing the world’s censure.
Whatever bloodshed occurred within the Duchy of Sijak was none of Vieta’s concern.
Vieta quietly watched Michelle swing her sword. After wielding it nonstop for three hours, Michelle seemed to radiate a grim determination to resist her fate.
So perhaps it would be all right to help her a little.
As Vieta was lost in these thoughts, Loras quietly approached them.
“My lady, Young Master Byon is coming this way.”
“Why is that bastard coming here?!”
Awakened from her thoughts by Michelle’s shrill cry, Vieta looked around. Just as Loras had said, a group of people appeared at the far end of the training grounds.
Vieta quietly rose to her feet.
She did not need to observe formalities in front of Michelle, but Young Master Byon was another matter.
She could leave, but if she moved now, he might mistake it for deliberate avoidance.
Besides, Byon was Michelle’s enemy, wasn’t he? Vieta wanted to see for herself what kind of person he was.
“Michelle, I didn’t expect you to be here after not seeing you in the duchy for a while.”
“It’s been a while, Brother.”
Michelle’s normally cheerful face stiffened so dramatically that it was startling.
Standing behind Michelle, Vieta paid her respects alongside Loras before discreetly studying Byon. He was a man with a build similar to Laurent’s, and his short-cropped black hair was particularly striking.
‘Are red eyes a characteristic of the Duchy of Sijak?’
Not only the young duke, but Michelle and Loras as well all had red eyes. The only difference was that Loras’s eyes were pale, like red paint diluted with plenty of water, while Byon and Michelle’s irises were the vivid color of rubies.
“I never knew my sister was so serious about the hunting tournament that she would come to Santpol a week early.”
“I’m sorry if I caused you concern. I had already informed His Highness… I merely wanted to enjoy myself a little before serious marriage talks began.”
“I’ve heard that women about to marry often become unsettled. Even so, wouldn’t it be better to put down your sword? Count Bilstein will be saddened if you get hurt. Yes, if you truly need a change of pace, how about taking up embroidery? A bride preparing her future husband’s gift herself would surely move Count Bilstein.”
“…Thank you for the advice.”
“Yes, yes. As long as my sister’s marriage goes well, Melvin won’t have to worry either.”
Since both of them had knives hidden behind their words, even their seemingly innocuous conversation was thick with tension.
After one round of verbal sparring, Byon turned his attention to Vieta.
“By the way, I don’t recognize the girl behind you. Is she a newly acquired maid?”
“I met her in Santpol. She seemed talented with a sword, so I’ve kept her by my side for a while.”
“Oh?” Byon murmured briefly, and his heavy gaze settled on Vieta.
The moment her eyes met the duke’s, Vieta shuddered with gooseflesh. His gaze possessed the uncanny ability to make people uncomfortable simply by meeting it.
“If she has talent, it would be good to recruit her into the duchy. But for a woman, wouldn’t a maid be much more suitable than a knight?”
A maid? Realizing the implication behind his words, Vieta clenched her fist to suppress her anger.
Perhaps because he noticed Vieta’s displeasure, Loras pushed her behind him and stepped forward.
“Young Duke, don’t you have an appointment with the Lord of Santpol?”
“Ah… That’s right. That’s why I came all the way to this dusty place. Michelle, the Lord of Santpol has invited us to lunch with Prince Roen. Will you join us?”
“…If you’re inviting me, I’d be happy to attend. I’ll put things away and follow shortly.”
Byon nodded, then turned around and left the training grounds.
Michelle’s hands trembled as she watched Byon’s retreating back.
The enemy’s words—telling her to stop struggling and stay quietly at home if she wanted to save her brother—had clearly provoked her.
Once the surroundings had quieted down, Vieta pretended to put away her sword as she approached Michelle and spoke.
“My lady.”
It was bound to be exhausting.
“Hmm? Vieta?”
Blanc might decide not to help Michelle, and Fulcare might give her a serious scolding for causing trouble without consulting anyone.
“Do you want to live?”
At Vieta’s blunt question, Michelle hesitated before opening her mouth. She seemed to need time to consider how much Vieta knew and what she meant by the question.
“Yes. I want to live.”
“…I’ll be your sword for a few days. It won’t be free. I need to make a lot of money.”
Still, how could Vieta turn away when an innocent person wanted to live?
She had lived faithfully as the goddess’s dog until now, so perhaps acting according to her own will once in a while would not be such a bad thing.
Above all, unless she gave Byon a proper kick in the backside, Vieta did not think she would be able to calm her anger.
Michelle’s eyes reddened as she looked at Vieta’s bright smile. As though trying to regain control of her emotions, she raised her head and blinked repeatedly.
A little while later, Michelle, the twenty-two-year-old illegitimate daughter, murmured in a voice thick with tears.
“Money is no object….”
***
Night fell quickly in the north.
While eating lunch alone, Vieta was informed by Fulcare that Blanc had also decided to help Michelle. She then spent the entire day roaming the city with Fulcare, making and reviewing various plans.
After an exhausting day, Vieta took out a neatly folded map in her small room. Fulcare had given it to her, saying that they absolutely had to capture the empress to resolve matters with as little trouble afterward as possible.
When he handed Vieta the map, Fulcare added that the fastest way to enter the duchy was through Santpol, and that, judging by Byon’s arrival, the empress was most likely to come to Santpol.
As the Grand Mage had requested, Vieta planned to pretend to hunt tomorrow while scouting the escape route Verphin was expected to take, marked on the map.
Knock, knock.
While Vieta was memorizing the route drawn on the map, someone came to see her. The only people who would visit her at this hour were Fulcare or Michelle.
Had the plan changed somehow?
Vieta had been lying on the bed in her underwear, but she put on a robe before opening the door.
“Yes, who is…”
The moment she identified the visitor through the slightly open gap in the door, Vieta trailed off.
“Hello, Vieta.”
And for good reason: the person who had come to her room was neither Fulcare nor Michelle, but Blanc.
The prince smiled brightly, ran one hand through his hair, and spoke.
“I’m a little tired. May I come in?”
His claim of being tired did not seem to be a lie; there were faint dark circles beneath his eyes. Moreover, Blanc was dressed in such stifling formal attire that he looked as though he had just finished working.
“…Can’t I?”
At Blanc’s urging, Vieta quickly glanced up and down the corridor before letting him into her room. Even if she shut the door coldly in his face, Blanc showed no sign of being ready to leave.
“What are you thinking, coming here? What if someone sees you?”
The moment she closed the door, Vieta snapped at Blanc. A prince secretly visiting a woman’s room late at night was exactly the sort of situation that would give rise to strange rumors.
“Don’t worry. There was no one outside.”
“That’s not the point. Why did you come looking for me?”
Despite Vieta’s reproach, Blanc casually sat down in a chair and crossed his legs.
His brazen demeanor made Vieta raise her voice sharply.
“We settled this the day before yesterday. I told you I can’t accept you. I’m going back!”
“That’s right. You said you were going back. But you haven’t heard my answer yet, have you?”
“Whaaat?”
Trying to steady her breath, which had become ragged with agitation, Vieta felt her head begin to throb.
Regardless of how it looked to others, Vieta had spent quite a long time thinking before she revealed what was in her heart.
She had even considered pretending nothing had happened and remaining his friend, but she did not want to deceive Blanc.
He needed time to sort out his feelings as well.
And that wasn’t all. To properly reject Blanc’s feelings, Vieta felt she had to reveal her secret, so she had even bowed her head and pleaded with that detestable goddess.
After finally bringing herself to turn Blanc down….
If he came looking for her again like this, all her efforts would come to nothing.
“Vieta, you were right that I really do have to take a crown princess, and I understand that you want to return. But once you go back someday, the woman by the prince’s side will naturally disappear. So when that happens, couldn’t I take that good woman you mentioned as my crown princess?”
“…Don’t you think that’s a stretch?”
“A stretch… Fine, call it that if you like. Still, who would dare say anything to me? I’m the prince.”
While Vieta clicked her tongue at the prince’s audacity, Blanc continued in a low voice.
“I’ve thought it over carefully for the past two days, and you may be right that your return might become a problem. But Vieta, I’m sorry, I can’t give up on you. Even if the ending has already been decided, it’s not as though you’re going back right now, is it?”
“…Are you drunk?”
Even amid her confusion, Vieta seriously asked Blanc, who had transformed from a docile puppy into a fully grown fox in the space of two days.
“No. I’m perfectly sober.”
After saying that, Blanc rose with a relaxed smile and walked toward Vieta.
Flustered, Vieta tried to move away a beat too late, but Blanc’s long fingers had already reached her and gently drew her slightly disheveled robe closed again.
“It’s late, but I’ll say it properly. I like you, Vieta.”
Beneath the wavering orange candlelight, the fox wagged the tail he had kept hidden from Vieta all this time.
“So go out with me.”