Translator: Nox

Chapter 19

He had meant to warn her just enough to scare her a bit, but what was he supposed to do when she nodded right there? Daniel roughly wiped the sweat beading under his chin with the back of his hand.

<Due to my sudden poor health, I am unable to fulfill my duties. I apologize.>

Thinking back to how tense he'd been until receiving that letter written in neat, slender script that night still made his back crawl like insects were marching across it. Ricardo, who had been watching Daniel from a distance, picked up the ball rolling on the dirt ground and approached.

“Looks like you can start proper sword training now. Not bad. No, it's good. Very good.”

“Hoo.”

Daniel took a short deep breath to steady his breathing easily and turned while wiping off the remaining sweat. Crack! He heard another tree falling somewhere, and sure enough, a noisy rumble of 'crash crash' followed. It was chaos every single day. Ricardo couldn't tear his eyes from the direction of the sound. Daniel's voice, addressing him, was sharply edged.

“Is the mercenary corps training properly?”

“Of course. We're drilling them until they scream, so don't worry, my lord. We'll turn them into a legendary knight order rivaling the Teuton.”

“You like Teuton, huh. All you do is chop away with axes every day instead of using the training ground.”

“Even that is training in its own way, if you look closely.”

Since regaining consciousness, the number of days he'd seen the mercenary corps training could be counted on one hand. Instead of swords and spears, they were shoveling or axing away, and yet Ricardo had the gall to compare them to a valiant knight order? Daniel snatched the ball from Ricardo's hand with a scoff. The stitching on the tightly stuffed cloth ball had burst, with white feathers poking out here and there. It looked utterly ridiculous, like a chicken with its tail plucked.

'Everything's a total mess.'

Daniel unceremoniously flung the ball into the bushes. The white feathers already sticking out fluttered lightly in the wind before his eyes. Brushing them away with the back of his hand, Daniel fixed Ricardo with a cold stare and spoke.

“I'll let you do it since you insisted, but if you ever tarnish my name, you won't get away with it. If you're not confident, forget the knight order and all that—just keep doing your mercenary work.”

He hadn't refused only because it was Ricardo's first request; Daniel had no interest whatsoever in forming a vassal knight order to begin with. The empire was crawling with fake knights from noble houses who knew how to show off but not how to properly wield a sword. Honestly, aside from the Teuton imperial knight order of the Rüngen Empire west of Altas, he questioned if there were any on this continent worthy of the name 'knight order.' Being a former mercenary himself, Daniel had always preferred battle-hardened mercenaries over knights who wasted time on petty squabbles. That was how he'd survived this long. So when Ricardo said he wanted to become a vassal knight of the duchy, he'd thought the man was drunk and joking.

“Hmph. Those arrogant Svergen nobles who act like their egos pierce the heavens wouldn't pledge loyalty to a half-baked duke. Just use us as your vassal knights. It's the mercenary corps your maternal grandfather created, isn't it? Who could be more trustworthy to have at your back in battle?”

When he'd asked Dominic why his father was acting like that, he'd only gotten sneers in return.

“Do you really not know? Isn't it obvious? It's that—a touching tale of pure love, guarding the son of his first love until death.”

Does it make sense for a captain to mix personal and official matters like that?

“Living carefree is best, but now that's all ruined. Damn it.”

He seemed to remember smacking the back of Dominic's head mercilessly as the man grumbled nonstop. Daniel rolled his stiff shoulders and grimaced. He couldn't understand why that woman or Ricardo couldn't resist jumping into troublesome matters.

“Once you're knights, you'll be summoned to the imperial court without mercy. Mercenaries make more money anyway. I don't care, so speak up if you change your mind.”

“Won't happen. I'm sick of wandering aimlessly as mercenaries.”

Ricardo grinned as he straightened Daniel's disheveled clothes from catching the ball.

“Don't worry. We won't tarnish the great Duke Rihardt's name.”

It was the same kindly smile from long ago when he'd taught a young Daniel how to skin a bear. Even the wrinkles across his nose from the playful twitch were the same.

“If not now, when will I ever hear a 'sir'? And becoming the captain of the empire's wealthiest territory's knight order? In the long run, it's better for making money too, obviously.”

When had he grumbled about scraping by digging dirt in this valley? Who was the one hyping him up about the wealthy territory? No need to ask. Daniel drew his sword from the scabbard leaning against the wall. Whoosh. The blade spun gracefully in his hand after leaving the scabbard. The thrilling buzz in his wrist was maddening. *** A sudden strong gust blew. As the canopy shook violently and threatened to lift her hat, Frida quickly pressed both hands firmly to the top of her head. Sunlight piercing through the flapping canopy dazzled her, naturally narrowing her eyes. Dominic, standing to her right, extended his arm and pointed toward the dense forest.

“To connect directly to the port, the fastest way is through that mountain. From your viewpoint, the left end borders Baimar, and the right touches Altas. Either way, the distance to the port is similar.”

The forest blocked the view, showing nothing but green trees. Beyond those dense woods lay a new world she'd never seen? Frida closed her eyes and imagined the vast ocean beyond the forest she'd never beheld. Though nearly over, her lower abdomen ached faintly from the menstrual cramps that had started a few days ago. Yet the fresh, cool woody scent carried by the wind quickly lifted her spirits.

“Beyond Altas lies Znebu, the new capital of the Rüngen Empire, right?”

“Yes. The Altas Mountains serve as the border between Rüngen and Svergen. It's such a vast range that shaving a bit won't draw complaints or interference. If you're making a road anyway, I'd recommend that side. Though not doing it at all would be best.”

Dominic, his weary face caked with fatigue, let out a long sigh as soon as he finished speaking. He was exhausted. Utterly drained. Thinking of how he'd been hounded by the Duchess just because he was one of the few in the duchy who could read and write made his temples throb. And that wasn't all. He'd had to camp outdoors for three days escorting the Duchess, who couldn't go out freely, as she surveyed around the castle. On the way back, he'd glimpsed his reflection in a valley stream—dark circles under his eyes making him look more invalid than the Duchess. Why me? Why did a mere mercenary like me have to handle brainwork too? He'd never regretted Laura forcing him to learn to read and write more than now. Anyway, he'd bolt before this fearless lady started something bigger. Dominic's eyes narrowed with resolute determination. In contrast, Frida, out of the castle after so long, looked utterly delighted. Wrapped head to toe without a gap to block the sunlight touching her skin, she still beamed happily. The tip of her white-gloved hand pointed in the opposite direction from what Dominic had indicated.

“No. We'll build the road that way.”

“Pardon? But that borders Baimar, which could lead to territorial disputes.”

“Exactly.”

What was this now? Why choose the path that invites disputes?

“Think about it, Dominic. If we build a road from Utrecht straight to the port, who stands to lose the most?”

Sigh, now even this? I'm just a sword-swinging mercenary. Dominic glanced at Muriel, standing quietly as if uninterested in his agony. The gray-eyed knight was busy shading the Duchess's head. Slumping his shoulders, Dominic replied listlessly.

“Baimar, I suppose. They've monopolized the trade in this region until now, but no longer.”

Satisfied with his answer, the Duchess clapped her hands.

“As expected of Dominic. Then you must understand why I chose Baimar.”

“Yes. I think so.”

A road through Altas would solely benefit Utrecht. Baimar would sabotage their new rival. But a road linking to their land would benefit them too. Depending on negotiations, they might even cooperate and cover construction costs. Trivial for the Duchess, born with the talent to persuade others.

'Damn it, why do I have to know all this?'

Exhausted. Utterly. He foresaw a grueling future of aging under relentless workloads.

“Haa...”

Letting out a deep sigh, Dominic raised his head at the distant sound of hooves. Clop clop. A horse bearing the blue flag emblazoned with the white Nordic cross—the symbol of the Svergen imperial family—galloped vigorously toward them. Frida's voice, lifting the canopy before her eyes, was unusually cold.

“The imperial family has finally...”

“Looks like they found out.”

Dominic finished Frida's murmur. *** Daniel's expression remained as impassive as ever while reading the letter stamped with the imperial seal. After finishing, he handed it to Frida.

“The imperial family is sending a rat.”

“A rat?”

“Who is it?”

Dominic's question overlapped Frida's. Daniel recited the man's name from the letter.

“Baron Stefan Boild.”

Dominic squinted hard, rummaging through his memory.

“Boild... Boild.”

“He was the tutor for Alfredo Baichen, the Dowager Empress's nephew.”

All eyes turned to Muriel, who had spoken from the corner.

“He's a classmate of my third brother at Chelino University. Probably him.”

Daniel nodded lightly as Muriel finished.

“Right. And Baron Boild's wife is from the Chamberlain Count family.”

“Aha.”

Dominic finally exclaimed in understanding.

“The old Chamberlain's doing. That geezer's on his last legs, yet still buzzing around the Dowager Empress. And a Chelino University tutor? He'll write flawless secret letters.”

Before Dominic could ask if they'd still start the road construction, a clear woman's voice rang out. Frida, holding the Emperor's letter in both hands, read each line aloud.

“Comforting the efforts of Duchess Rihardt, who has managed the duchy alone, we send a capable man as chief steward to offer small aid. Please do not refuse this brother's concern for his brother and sister-in-law.”

After reading the letter, Frida looked at Daniel with sparkling eyes. Déjà vu hit him. He easily recalled when he'd seen that exact gaze before. It was the same when he'd mentioned the gold coins. He couldn't guess why the imperial rat pleased his wife as much as gold.

“He's from Chelino University, Your Grace. Even tutored the Baichen Duke family.”

So what? Daniel showed no reaction, so Frida clutched the letter in both hands and stepped forward.

“He can read and write. It means Utrecht finally has a noble who can handle documents.”

Dominic, grasping her point, rushed over and shouted.

“Tell him to come by all means, my lord! He's not a rat—he's a nobleman, a nobleman!”