TLSD 08

Chapter 8

“To think your son would pull a stunt like this…. A hero of the empire still acting so childish. Can we really afford to let the honor of the dragon slayer be dragged down like this?”

Clatter.

The owner of the reception room draped in extravagant red curtains, the Emperor of Lübeck, carelessly knocked over a bottle of whiskey.

Golden whiskey dripped and pooled near the duke’s feet.

Amidst the razor-sharp air, the chief chamberlain quietly poured tea. The fragrant aroma of tea vanished, swallowed up by the heavy smell of medicinal herbs and alcohol.

“The affairs of men and women are unpredictable, are they not? Since it is said they shared a first night, he must take responsibility.”

Crushing a splash of whiskey underfoot, the Duke of Schönhardt grasped a steaming teacup. His voice was as flat and detached as if he felt no emotion at all.

“Tsk, taking responsibility isn’t everything. A man must also know how to throw a woman away. Once you stand in a high position, wenches all crawl between your legs anyway….”

The Emperor lifted his whiskey glass and smiled with sly, crinkled eyes.

“Isn’t that right, Duke?”

“Your Majesty’s legs have been messy since your days as an archduke.”

Unfazed by his blunt remark, the Emperor chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.

“That Carlos fellow needs to climb higher and enjoy more, too. If he fancies the Aquitaine wench… tell him to keep her as a mistress.”

“I hear he already finished swearing by the blue orb in front of the priest.”

“Ah-ah. Why didn’t you just kill that priest? Can we really let the engagement with the archduchess be canceled over a mere Aquitaine? I was going to pave a golden road for my son-in-law.”

Golden light shimmered above the Emperor’s head as he tilted it.

A golden cross engraved with a crescent moon gleamed side by side with the imperial crest.

“We cannot shake the authority of the Holy See. Especially when tensions are already high because of the Neo-Church. Challenge their authority, and a conflict will break out immediately.”

“As for that mere authority, even if it crumbles—”

“The Holy See’s standing army has grown larger than the empire’s. It is not a ‘mere’ thing. Furthermore, public sentiment regarding the subjugation of the wicked dragon is directed toward my son and the Holy See.”

At the duke’s deadpan response, the Emperor clenched his fist tightly and twisted his lips.

“Either way, my son has exceptional restraint; he won’t retract a blue orb oath.”

“Ah-ah. Is that so? Runs in the family, does it?”

The Emperor clenched and unclenched his scarred fist, the skin around his crimson eyes folding downward. His whiskey-wet lips curved with fluid elegance.

“His lack of ambition for the throne must run in the family, too.”

“It is only natural for a son to resemble his father.”

At the duke’s matter-of-fact reply, the Emperor burst into hearty laughter. The heavy air vibrated with the sound rumbling from his throat.

“Right, right. A son should take after his father. It’s a shame our archduke isn’t as imposing as your son…. I wish I had your blessing with sons, too.”

He sliced through a cake, pulling back lips still lingering with a faint smile.

“I’d love to see the face of that cheeky little wench. Daring to pull a cheap stunt on the dragon slayer…. She must have two or three lives to spare.”

“…….”

“You must introduce her to me soon. Don’t I cherish Carlos with the heart of a natural father?”

The Emperor curved his eyes with an amused tone. His pupils shifted unpredictably, making the direction of his gaze impossible to gauge.

The duke quietly stared at the ever-blurring focus of Emperor Friedrich the Conqueror. The scent of numbing-grass, cloying enough to paralyze the nose, grew even thicker.

“…His Majesty will have a hard time lasting past three months at most.”

Recalling the chamberlain’s words, the duke sank his cold, sharp eyes.

“…Yes. I will introduce her to you alongside my future daughter-in-law.”

“A bedroom? No! Absolutely not, no way!”

“Good thing. I’d want to decline such a bothersome chore anyway.”

“Ah! So you don’t need an act after all!”

“Right.”

Her face flushed bright red, Elio raised her voice.

“Are you really going to marry me?”

“No.”

“Th… then?”

“We’ll have to break off the engagement.”

At the man’s nonchalant reply, as if all of it had been a joke until now, the stiffness in her body completely melted away.

“…Commander, please answer seriously. Don’t play games with me. If you swear by the blue orb, we have to get married within three months. Does that mean we’re breaking up within three months?”

“Yeah.”

Elio exhaled a breath of relief from deep within her lungs.

Of course the House of Schönhardt wouldn’t actually marry a country noble lady. How ridiculous of her to tense up for a split second, wondering if she actually had to become a real duchess.

“…But the blue orb recorded our first night, too. Isn’t this a divorce rather than just breaking off an engagement? Remarriage won’t even receive a priest’s blessing.”

“Already worrying about your next marriage?”

Rustle. The sound of leaves rustling suggested the man was shifting his position. Startled, Elio sank her body into the water all the way up to her chin.

“Well, obviously I worry! My dream is to have a blessed marriage with someone I love. If I end up divorced…!”

“Marriage is a dream?”

His tone sounded somewhat bewildered.

“I suppose marriage is the sort of thing that can become a dream.”

“…Strictly speaking, love is the dream. Because it’s not an easy thing. Choosing it myself, of my own free will, and marrying someone I truly love.”

For as long as it took the wind to sweep past several times, the man offered no reply.

“I’m just trying to think about the future, that’s all.”

Feeling suddenly embarrassed, Elio changed the subject.

Without a single penny of a dowry, it probably sounded like the foolish love talk of a poor noble lady. To get married, she’d have to save up a big dowry….

No, first she needed to earn living expenses… no, she needed to save up for rent.

Calculating the independent living funds she needed to scrape together in three months, Elio smiled bitterly as she recalled her emergency fund being completely cleaned out by her father.

How could marriage not be a dream? It was as distant and unreachable as a dream.

“Is marriage a given?”

“…Then you’re not going to get married?”

“I can just live alone.”

“Is that what you want?”

Elio dreamed of spending a sweet, cozy daily life with someone she loved. Eating meals together in the same house, sleeping together, holding each other close….

“Living alone is comfortable.”

Elio faltered, folding back the fingers she had stretched out to catch a firefly.

Living alone is comfortable—it was a concept that didn’t resonate with her at all.

“You listed off all those things a duchess has to do, and then you say living alone is comfortable? I’m not buying it.”

His low laughter reached her ears.

…Does he hate taking care of a wife? The servants would handle all the chores anyway, so what duties would he even have left?

Elio sighed at such a slacker of a man.

“…Anyway, when we get divorced, what reason are you going to give for the application? Will the Holy See even accept it?”

“What divorce. We just need to annul the first-night oath.”

“Annul the oath? How?”

“Just bear with it for three months. Once everything gets sorted out, I’ll introduce you to a decent young gentleman.”

At the man’s perfunctory suggestion, given without a proper answer, Elio rolled her furrowed eyes.

Though he never explained anything straight, she wondered if he was at least mindful of handling the cleanup afterward.

“…If you were to get married, what kind of person would you want to marry?”

Elio asked somewhat impulsively to a man who seemed completely indifferent to his own marriage.

“Hard to say.”

“Just, if you had to pick one thing.”

“A strong woman.”

With such a rather unique preference, Elio nodded in a daze.

Mulling over his answer, she buried her burning face in her knees.

One thing she knew for sure: a woman like her definitely didn’t make the cut.

Her bruised and battered body, the pathetic sight of being beaten by her father, and her own self—raised merely to be beaten without inheriting a single power—made her skin burn right down to her fingertips with humiliation.

Elio trailed five paces behind the man, walking back to the camp in low spirits.

One by one, lights flickered on across the deep valley, and the knights bustled about driving stakes into the ground to pitch tents.

It was Elio’s first time camping, and her eyes and body moved busily in tandem.

No matter how hard she looked around, the female knight was nowhere in sight.

“…What are you doing?”

At the man’s low voice, Elio jerked her head up. She blinked rapidly, looking up at a man whose legs were far too long.

“Preparing to sleep.”

Carlos stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at her in silence.

The moment he drove the final stake into the ground, Elio quickly scurried over to the sleeping bag inside the tent, curled herself into a ball, and grew redder by the second.

“Thanks for setting up the tent.”

Carlos stared blankly at the brazen little rabbit.

“It’s my tent.”

“…….”

Carlos gazed mutely at the rabbit, who looked as though she had swallowed her tongue. A chilly mountain breeze fluttered the tent flap. When she gave no reply, he dusted off his hands and strode right into the tent.

Elio scrambled away to the farthest corner like a creature fleeing a hunter.

“S-should I sleep in the carriage? Though the carriage is a bit…”

Elio trailed off, looking out at the campsite where dozens of tents glowed like the Milky Way.

She didn’t want to go to the carriage, sitting isolated and pitch-black like a lonely island far away from the Robiatan people. If a surprise attack happened, nobody would notice or protect her; she’d just quietly kick the bucket all by herself.

“Are there any spare tents? If you give me yours, I can pitch it myself, but if there aren’t any, I’ll sleep in the carriage. I’m sorry for barging into your tent uninvited. I didn’t know it was your tent…”

She muttered with her head bowed low, crawling on all fours, when suddenly her ankle was caught.

“Eep! C-Commander!”

Like stuffing cotton into a quilt, the man shoved her straight into the sleeping bag up to her thighs.

Just as Elio’s crawling posture tipped forward and she opened her mouth to shout something, Carlos’s thick forearm wrapped around her waist, hoisted her body into the air, and shoved her the rest of the way into the sleeping bag up to her chin.

“You came in knowing it was my tent. And knowing there weren’t any spares.”

He ruthlessly pushed even her hair down into the sleeping bag, leaving only her round face exposed, and pulled the drawstring tight without hesitation.

Elio closed the mouth she had opened to scream. The sleeping bag was so plush and warm that she wondered if this was what the inside of a mother’s womb felt like.

“……Yes.”

It was true that she had deliberately sat inside his tent, hoping he’d tell her to go sleep in the carriage. She had no room for excuses.

‘Then why do you keep ignoring me when I ask for my own tent? You’re the one who wouldn’t answer me, so of course I had to do this.’

Elio grumbled inwardly, eyeing Carlos warily. Her spirit completely shriveled at his monster-like physique filling the tiny tent to the brim. If I had properly inherited dragon powers, I’d be way stronger than this guy….

Without any particular reply, he fastened the sleeping bag’s belt and tucked the wisps of her damp hair that kept sticking out back inside the bag.

She winced slightly at his rough, clumsy touch, but kept her eyes lowered obediently. Sitting so close together in the tiny tent that she could feel his breath made even breathing feel awkward.

“…Isn’t it a bit too cramped for two people?”

“Yeah. Want me to go outside?”

“Well, I’m pretty small, so I think we could lie far enough apart.”

Elio kept a wary eye on the rough man as he kept shoving her damp hair back into the sleeping bag as if it were an ogre’s tail.

“Am I really going outside…?”