The Knight of Clingy Young Ladies

029.

“Father, how could he…”

The distressed girl’s question could be heard.

Elasia was asking while steadfastly gazing at Azcalc.

“That’s the lad Mr. Sand praised so rarely. I couldn’t forget him.”

Azcalc was referring to Everchant, the head of the Lakatus family, known by the nickname ‘Mr. Sand.’

This alias had been earned for a reason related to his past dealings, but it took on a more intense meaning about nine years ago.

Not long ago, Azcalc sent a congratulatory letter regarding a social matter.

The memory of the boy who resolved an impossible situation surfaced.

The boy’s name was Kalen.

It was definitely Kalen.

While having Serasie under protection was usually a good thing, if the protector was Kalen, it was a different story entirely.

“Protection… protection… yes, you must be the one who protected the little miss of the Lakatus family.”

Azcalc looked sharply at Kalen, his excitement palpable.

His eyes were wide, and the corners of his mouth were lifted.

Kalen gave a slight glance at Lord Toren.

Was being that easily excitable a genetic trait? He thought Toren was simply incompetent.

Just as the tension reached its peak…

Azcalc redirected his attention from Kalen to Serasie.

“What kind of deal did you make with the elder one, Serasie?”

“…It’s unrelated to Father.”

It was expressed as if Everchant himself bore the debt.

Azcalc had never seen his sole close friend express this so gravely.

His interest couldn’t be held back.

The ruler of the Northern lands looked into his daughter’s eyes.

Like a ruby, they shone red with a gleam of poison and defiance.

A sense of resentment could even be discerned within them.

No regrets.

This too was a result of her own choice.

Since the moment she resolved to endure, she had cut the bond of filial affection herself.

Azcalc merely smiled.

As always, he subtly implied “What can someone like you possibly do?”

Only this time, it was different.

His intent considered the foundation of the changes Serasie had shown.

“From tomorrow, you will join the front lines as well.”

“Me?”

With that, Azcalc abruptly rose from his seat.

The expensive-looking chair fell over with a loud noise.

He left the dining room right away.

The last place his eyes lingered was on Kalen.

Bang!

As the door of the dining room closed, silence reigned.

*

“What’s this front-line business that’s got him acting like a lunatic?”

The meal consisted of only two bites of smoked salmon.

Serasie sat motionlessly after hearing Azcalc’s words.

-You…! How dare you mention the front lines!

At least until Lord Toren broke his silence and yelled while gesticulating wildly.

Serasie left the dining room unaffected, just as she had entered, and took Kalen with her.

As Kalen recalled Toren’s ridiculous shout, a delicate and gentle tune reached his ear.

“A place infested with monsters.”

Serasie’s voice was calm, yet Kalen immediately sensed a slight discomfort.

It was the voice of someone suppressing intense emotions.

“Did you say you dared to go where the monsters are?”

“Somewhat different.”

Serasie explained the meaning of what Azcalc had said.

“Do you remember that the factions’ advanced posts are positioned at the front?”

“Yes.”

“The front-line duties have been handled by Toren until now. I wasn’t allowed to go due to the danger.”

Serasie was certain there was nothing but an excuse behind it.

Anyone who knows how crucial the front lines are to gaining control of the north wouldn’t have allowed that.

Especially someone like her father, the Duke of the North.

“There’s a lot of monsters at the front lines. Just by eliminating them, we gain people’s favor, and it serves as a justification for preventing any potential war.”

It was undeniably so.

The northern region, near the frontier, is a place where conflicts are frequent.

One cannot predict when life might be in peril.

Even if common people live in the rear, that fact remains unchanged.

The people of the north were well aware of this.

“Essentially, it’s something that was monopolized. More precisely… the element of freedom, I think. Since it’s difficult for anyone to fully grasp everything plotted at the front lines.”

In short, this was it.

The current of favoritism that Kalen had sensed was clear.

Azcalc was undoubtedly tipping the balance in Toren’s favor.

This conjecture was just confirmed by Serasie’s words, revealing why she included her father among her rivals.

“And… here’s the most important point. I mentioned that the front lines are full of monsters, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“That means it’s easy to cover up accidents. When a single person dies, it becomes hard to uncover the truth.”

Even in a relatively peaceful era, the northern front lines maintain a constant state of tension, ready for the unknown enemy that threatens the Claire Empire.

Add to that the clear and distinct peril of monsters, making it easy for anyone to die unnoticed.

In this situation, two internal warring factions have been assigned responsibility for the front lines.

This is as good as implying that the covert activities that were taking place subtly within the mansion will now escalate openly.

“Are you all right?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m fine. In fact, I was wondering how to approach the front lines. I owe you a favor for this.”

Serasie’s voice carried an undertone of relief.

One could sense how much she longed to go to the front lines.

As they discussed the front lines, Serasie who had been walking ahead of Kalen suddenly stopped.

“Do you know why I became a magician?”

An out-of-the-blue, personal, and unexpected narrative.

Though each person’s heart holds walls that seem impenetrable, sometimes even the tiniest trigger can create a small fissure.

Even the strongest people can, at some point, unload their stories and seek comfort.

With the previously blocked path to the front lines now open, a sense of relief washed over her tension-filled body.

Serasie silently faced the small crack in her heart.

“Where do the eyes of new gentlemen first gaze?”

“I don’t know.”

“Try to guess.”

Instead of continuing to walk, Serasie extended one hand behind her and stroked the corridor’s wall.

Kalen, watching her from behind, began to ponder her question: where do the eyes of new gentlemen first go?

Recalling Serasie’s ruby-embedded eyes, Kalen responded.

“The eyes.”

“Hm?”

“It seems like they would look at the eyes.”

“The eyes?”

For the sake of those unfamiliar with the Northern tradition, her eyes could seem eerie, resembling blood.

Kalen’s guess was not entirely wrong, but Serasie was briefly stunned and smiled faintly.

“The body. Out of ten, all ten gentlemen would look at my body first.”

Serasie’s eyes lost focus, reminiscing about the past.

“Ah. Now there’s just one exception. You looked at my eyes first.”

Kalen remained silent.

“Which was unsettling. This body feels like a curse to me.”

A woman’s body.

Moreover, Serasie was on the taller side for a woman, something Kalen could clearly observe from their first meeting.

And a body that could not be called anything but fully matured.

Every man who encountered her looked first at her bosom or hips.

Such a body was deemed useful for nothing.

“In the North, the pride of being a knight is deeply ingrained. Even though magic has found a way in, that tradition remains strong.”

Serasie’s initial inquiry referred to the reason she had chosen the path of magic.

“I couldn’t become a knight. There wasn’t even armor made for a body like mine, and I couldn’t hold a sword properly because my shoulders would be sore just from standing still. On top of that, everyone kept staring at my body, driving me mad.”

Eclésia, one of the most prestigious salons in high society, originally belonged to the Lakatus and Hiart families.

Yet, prior to Eliana’s attendance, both houses’ daughters hadn’t participated.

While Eliana’s absence might have been excusable, Serasie refused to attend on principle, citing the reason that she did not “fit in.”

Though most people misinterpreted the meaning of her refusal,

Serasie was simply exhausted.

From the constant stares focused solely on her body.

Serasie stood, leaning on the wall of the corridor,

facing the tiny crack that had appeared in the wall of her heart.

“A brother named ‘trash’ used to pull out my hair calling it ominous, and out of fear, I would run away. In the North, growing up strong was emphasized, so even crying wasn’t allowed.”

“Does that have anything to do with the Duke’s favoritism?”

“Indeed! You are perceptive. I used to think I loved him, long ago. But not anymore.”

Serasie quickly withdrew her hand from the wall and tapped her chin with her index finger.

“Lady Toren is involved in purchasing and selling women from the villages as slaves.”

Simultaneously, a shocking revelation emerged.

This was the sin of the young lord of the family governing the North.

“Under the guise of introducing northern women to men of the Empire, he’s been kidnapping them.”

“…and the Duke?”

“I’m not sure if Father knows about it yet, but I felt bound to interfere since he believes his inheritance is guaranteed.”

With the abrupt unveiling of this information,

Kalen was somewhat bewildered but could piece things together calmly.

Ultimately, it was just an added justification.

The starting point of the civil strife wasn’t merely the residue of greed for power, but an accusation that could condemn their actions.

He was right. Toren wasn’t just a hostile force due to power struggles.

Furthermore, for Kalen,

“Anyway, thank you.”

“For looking at my eyes instead of my body?”

“No, for complimenting the beauty of my hair color.”

A trace of loneliness that Kalen briefly noticed in Serasie.

He had a feeling about where its beginning lay between the two.

“Let’s go. The front lines are tough, so rest when you can.”

“Yes.”

Though her smiling face remained unchanged,

She appeared slightly more at ease.

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