TLSD 15

Chapter 15

Carlos let out a dry laugh as he gently pulled the woman’s wrist.

“You’re the one who kicked the door.”

His smooth skin, healthily tanned to a bronze hue, and his firmly chiseled chest muscles drew close enough to almost brush against her cheek.

His necklace swayed from side to side.

The image inside the pendant dangling from his rugged chest was vividly clear.

Elio, who had been fidgeting, suddenly froze.

The person in the painting was a woman.

“……Is this person your actual lover?”

Elio blurted out without realizing it and bit her lip. Turning her eyes away from his chest, she spoke as though she were already certain of it, trying not to look like she was fishing for information.

“I know you used me to avoid the imperial edict ordering you to marry Her Highness the Princess. It’s because you already have a lover, isn’t it? Right?”

Carlos, looking momentarily taken aback, released her wrist and snapped the lid of his pendant necklace shut.

“It’s my mother.”

“……Not your lover?”

Carlos ran a hand through his hair and tilted his head, then smiled coldly with his brows furrowed as if in some kind of pain.

“She’s someone I have to love more than a lover.”

❖ ❖ ❖

In the pale dawn before the sun had fully risen, the heat was already as fierce as midday.

Elio found herself blankly staring at the man who—unexpectedly—was a devoted son and a compliment fairy all at once.

“When doing a slash-and-parry, plant your right foot firmly diagonally. The moment you plant it, cross your arms.”

“Yes! I will correct it!”

Without even catching his ragged breath, a knight shouted loudly in response to Carlos’s cold critique. Even after a mere ten-minute sparring session with Carlos, he was sweating as if drenched in rain.

“Aside from that. Good job.”

“Y-yes? Thank you!”

Carlos patted the flustered knight’s shoulder and turned his body toward another knight.

…Do those people have nothing but swords inside their heads?

Swords at dawn, swords in the morning, swords at lunch, swords at evening.

Exactly three days after Carlos had said they would rest at the inn for three days and then move on—though they were supposed to leave soon again—it was baffling how these wild men started sword training the moment they woke up.

And what was even more baffling—and annoying—was how unexpectedly good the man was at giving compliments.

When she sparred with him, he didn’t give a single word of ‘good job,’ but instead glared at her like she was an idiot and only scolded her.

Yesterday and today alike, he was a man who gave out lavish praise to his own knights.

Elio furrowed her brows, and just as she reached down to pick up a stone, she scooped up the puppy that the man guarded with his life.

“Puppy.”

She slid her hand down to scratch the puppy’s pink belly.

Why is Carlos even sweet to you?

Every single time she saw him refusing to get the puppy off his thighs all day long, kissing and stroking it so much that you’d wonder if serving it milk in a basin was even enough, a dry laugh bubbled up.

He said he liked strong things. Why is he like this?

“Good job.”

“Th-thank you!”

Amidst the sharp, clashing noises of sword blades, the man’s low, gentle voice sounded once again.

White petals drifted down onto the back of Elio’s hand as she listlessly scratched the underside of the baby puppy’s chin.

“Good job.”

The sprawling acacia tree swayed with a soft swish, and its shadows shifted slowly. Elio’s eyebrows curved downward into an inverted ‘V’.

Hey. Puppy. Good job again, he says. A picky compliment fairy appeared just for me, huh? Right?

“…Oh, come on. This is ridiculous.”

The shadow tilted.

“Ridiculous?”

Elio slumped onto the bench as if tumbling backward. She hugged the puppy tightly to her chest and breathed heavily.

“The way you don’t make a single sound when you approach!”

“I did.”

Elio scooted her hips toward the edge of the bench, putting some distance between herself and the man sitting right next to her.

Carlos’s signature refreshing scent combined with sweat felt uncomfortable. His bronze forearm radiated enough heat to make the dawn breeze feel warm, as if they were about to touch.

“How’s your body?”

“Pardon?”

“I’m asking if your stomach still hurts.”

“I-it’s fine.”

Elio hugged the puppy deeper and turned her sweat-slicked face away. Staring only at her own feet, she began picking at her fingertips.

“What do you mean, it’s fine? Did you stop running to the restroom yet?”

Elio rapidly nodded her flushed face. Why does he keep asking stuff like that?

“If it starts up again while we’re traveling—”

“Do you like puppies?”

“Not really.”

When she changed the subject, the man took off his gauntlets and spoke.

A cool breeze blew under the tree shade, and the man’s thick hair fluttered, covering the corners of his eyes.

…Liar. You were hugging and petting it all day.

Elio turned her gaze toward the knights resting sprawled out in the open yard. Greta, sitting slightly apart from the noisy knights, came into view.

Her gaze carefully drifted over Greta’s sturdy shoulders and the ornate jeweled sword resting beside her as she rested after training.

Elio thought that Greta was the exact embodiment of a northern female warrior straight out of a novel.

A tall, gentle yet strong knight like Greta—wasn’t that perhaps the very ideal type Carlos looked for…?

She suddenly found herself wanting to take an ordinary, affectionate man as a husband. Such an intense, powerful man who made her feel insecure about being weak made every single moment spent together uncomfortable.

“…You were in the same dormitory as Sir Greta, weren’t you? Same club, too.”

“Yeah.”

“You two must have known each other for a really long time. About 10 years, I suppose?”

“Yeah.”

Elio answered only in short replies, feeling uncomfortable with the taciturn man, and needlessly muttered another word.

“…You’ve never raised a puppy before, have you? I’ve raised one.”

“What’s so funny about that?”

At the sudden question, Elio moistened her lips.

She vigorously scratched the fluffy neck of the puppy.

Because it’s funny that someone like you likes puppies. Because it’s funny that you’re acting like some sort of compliment fairy.

“You always end up liking things that look just like you.”

Watching the woman who, without a word, busily scratched and petted only the puppy’s neck, chest, and belly, Carlos let out a soft huff of laughter.

Elio stopped the hand that was massaging the puppy’s soft, pink front paws.

“…Me? You think I look like a puppy?”

“Yeah.”

Elio stared at the man’s thick forearm and then lifted her gaze to his ruggedly handsome face.

“Is that a compliment?”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Elio turned her head away again. She tugged awkwardly at the hem of her dress.

“Could be.”

Carlos said calmly, as if talking to himself.

Elio, who had been smoothing down her sleeve, paused and bit her lip. Pulling down the corners of her mouth that kept trying to curve upward, she glanced sideways at the man.

Carlos leaned back against the backrest and closed his eyes, while Elio gathered the rustling folds of her skirt and leaned in.

“What part of me looks like one?”

She whispered softly like the rustling acacia.

“Clueless.”

“……Is that all?”

“Sluggish. Trips a lot. Tiny. Squeaks a lot. High-maintenance.”

Elio’s mouth snapped shut. When she kicked away a small stone, a puff of dust rose into the air.

The man chuckled quietly, closing his eyes to rest just like that, while only the hearty laughter of the knights echoed loudly.

Swish, the shadows under the acacia tree danced back and forth.

Elio kept kicking away stones while the man remained silent right beside her with his eyes closed. Elio slyly cast a glance at him.

“…Hey. Can I practice my short sword again—”

“Commander! Could you take another look at Nirta’s training?”

Greta’s soft voice carried across the breeze. Elio stopped talking and pulled her toes back in from where she was about to kick another stone.

Carlos poked the little stones Elio had kicked away with the toe of his combat boot. Elio whipped her head away.

“If you graduate from the Lübeck Military Academy, I’d expect you to at least manage this much. Guess it’s not working out.”

“Is that so. That’s a problem.”

Carlos replied, rising to his feet. He stared at the woman who was kicking away the stone she had meant to kick and keeping her head bowed.

“Sir Greta! You’re really going too far! Are you picking on me just because we’re from different schools? The Cyprus Military Academy is way more brutal, you know!”

“Every time you two put us through the ringer, you’re like a pair of demons!”

Elio offered an awkward smile, echoing the hearty laughter of the knights who brought up the empire-versus-kingdom duels of their academy days, along with Greta’s soft chuckle.

Loud, cheerful laughter erupted over memories of their freshman days at their respective academies, while she, utterly unable to join in, sat entirely alone in silence.

Sitting by herself like a distant outsider, she kept suppressing the creeping, uneasy feeling in her chest.

Clasping her chilled hands tightly together, she looked at Greta standing side-by-side with Carlos. Her heart fluttered frantically like a fish hauled ashore.

Strangely enough.

The timing of how Greta kept cutting in with her words…

…didn’t feel like a coincidence.

❖ ❖ ❖

“Stop grinning like an idiot.”

“Hahaha. I’m just so glad to see you. I really was on pins and needles thinking you wouldn’t come.”

Dressed in a neatly pressed white uniform, Harry Pulbuck, the First Prince of the Empire and Commander of the Holy Knights, led the woman with his crescent-shaped eyes curved in a smile.

Paying respects as a disciple rather than a prince.

“As if that old man wouldn’t make a huge fuss if I didn’t.”

The heavily built woman clicked her tongue and stepped through the golden doors. Being unusually tall for the grand marshal of the Holy See, brilliant light poured down over her head.

The House of Lords chamber, with its towering ceiling that overwhelmed anyone who entered.

The ceiling covered in stained glass sparkled in all colors of the rainbow, and the walls were engraved with detailed depictions of the founding myth.

“What on earth does exterminating a plague have to do with a House of Lords meeting? I told you not to call me unless we’re hunting monsters, dammit.”

“An emergency consensus regarding the regional deployment of exorcism personnel is going to take place. Ah, and also concerning Her Highness the Princess’s annulment.”

“Annulment? When did the princess get engaged?”

“Well, she was scheduled to hold an engagement ceremony with Sir Carlos, but…”

Over the sound of murmuring voices—

Thud, thud, thud, the frictional sound signaling the start of an emergency assembly echoed out.

Before she knew it, the House of Lords chamber was packed tight with councilors. In the central upper seat sat the Empress; on the left, the Emperor’s faction and the princess; on the right, the Pope’s faction and the clerical nobility.

Following the solemn opening address. Amidst a silence where only the scratching of pens could be heard.

The Empress, adorned in elegant pearls, opened her mouth.

“Since His Majesty is indisposed today as well, I shall convey His Majesty’s will in his stead.”

With the usual opening remarks, the knights and nobles casually flicked their pens with indifferent faces.

“As our first agenda item, we must state the imperial family’s official stance regarding the princess’s annulment.”

The Empress calmly swept her gaze across the room and began speaking with an ominous expression.