“Enough. The greeting is done. Seeing your two-faced crown makes me feel deceived. ―Rather, I’d like to take this one away. Before the Count snatches her, I want to fulfill my duty.”
“Sn-sn-sn-snatch? Absolutely not! I was just, out of gratitude…”
“Count.”
The man cut off the Count’s attempt at an explanation.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
His voice was nonchalant, as if the warning was bothersome. Unlike his voice, the man’s purple eyes were cold.
“…―.”
The Count shut his mouth tightly, sweating profusely like meat broth. The man looked down at the Count with an imperious gaze before approaching Sahara.
“Cheshire Wi Solante.”
Sahara blinked as she looked at the man who introduced himself as Cheshire Wi Solante.
“…Wi Solante, you say.”
Before Sahara could fully comprehend, her subordinates and the guards standing behind her all knelt on one knee. Their synchronized movement made a crisp sound.
Sahara stared at Cheshire, frozen with wide eyes.
Wi Solante. The name of the imperial family, and ‘Wi’ specifically belonged to the legitimate heir.
A few hours ago, the person Sahara had pointed her sword at was the Crown Prince.
Good heavens. She had nearly killed the Crown Prince.
“Commander. Commander―.”
Penelope urgently whispered from behind, and Sahara awkwardly began to bow. However, before her knee could touch the ground, Cheshire grabbed her hand.
“I-I apologize for my disloyalty in failing to recognize you…”
The words ‘please forgive me’ couldn’t quite come out. Should she ask to be killed? The wound she had inflicted on his cheek earlier was still visible. Not just the wound, but if the sword had been just a bit closer, she would have truly killed him. To the pale and frozen Sahara, Cheshire spoke as if granting clemency.
“I didn’t recognize you either, so let’s call it even.”
Cheshire looked down at Sahara, who was trembling like a small bird in shock. Her plump lips could be seen stammering, ‘That’s not possible.’
Cheshire had realized her identity a few hours ago, in the alley.
It was a swordsmanship and movement he had never seen before. She used a completely different style from the imperial knights or any other knights he had seen in the capital. Her sword-wielding hand was resolute, and her body techniques were as deep as water. She handled the medium-length sword and dagger as if they were extensions of her body.
But she was clearly not a mercenary. She had more dignity than those types. Besides, even if she were a mercenary, with that level of martial prowess, Cheshire would have at least heard her name. In mercenary groups dominated by men, someone with such beautiful features would be impossible to overlook.
The name Sahara belonged to the commander of the 128th Knight Division in the North. He had heard she became the commander four years ago. Even now her face showed signs of youth, so four years ago she must have been just a child. It was surprising enough that this great knight of the North was a woman, let alone so young, which is why he needed to confirm.
She was far more loyal than Cheshire had thought. Even though he had forgiven her, she was biting her lip tightly. Her plump lips were pressed together, turning white. As if unable to forgive herself for threatening the Crown Prince, the tips of her fingers in his grasp trembled coldly.
“It’s alright. I was being an idiot too, after all.”
“……”
It was meant as a joke, but Sahara gripped his hand as if she might collapse at any moment. Her lips were white, and the corners of her eyes were slightly red. It was strange to see the lady knight who had been like a grim reaper, taking down grown men with two swords just moments ago, now looking like a frail lady.
“I came on His Majesty the Emperor’s orders to guide the 128th Knight Division to the capital. He personally told me to go out and welcome you. He has sent down fine horses and carriages, so we’ll depart early tomorrow morning.”
They could certainly rest longer if needed, but the prospect of taking her to the capital was quite intriguing. Of course, the female knight who defeated the Norkan tribe in the North would be a topic of conversation, but with those looks… Her face was bound to cause a stir in the capital’s social circles. He was most curious about what face his sister would make, the one who had staked all sorts of jewels and territories, saying she didn’t want to marry the ‘monster from the North.’
“…I, we, don’t know if we should accept such things, I feel so ashamed…”
Her black eyes trembled as if lost, and her long, slender fingers fidgeted, seemingly out of habit.
“Refusing what His Majesty bestows would be even more disloyal.”
“―I-I am grateful for such boundless grace.”
Sahara finally knelt and bowed her head. Cheshire, who had inadvertently let go of her hand, lowered his empty hand.
“Making a lady sit on the ground, I’ve become quite thoughtless.”
“……”
It was a sarcastic remark, but Sahara remained silently seated as if unaware he was talking about her. The red-haired woman behind Sahara patted her back (saying, “Commander, Commander, he’s talking about you”) and helped her up.
“―I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you… Please forgive me.”
The way she bowed was again so proper, it was peculiar. Judging by her actions alone, she was like the freshly knighted young boys with shaved heads, but instead of short hair, soft-looking black hair flowed down, covering her shoulders. Her cheeks, framed by the long hair, looked tender.
He recalled the arm that had been around those shoulders earlier. It was clear as day what the Count must have thought upon seeing that beautiful face, without needing to cut him open to see inside.
“Count, go back and reflect on your actions. Don’t go anywhere near Lady Illoud, and make sure I don’t hear any news about you for a while.”
Though his tone was indifferent, his words were full of thorns. The Count, who had been continuously sweating like meat broth, trembled.
“…I will deeply engrave this in my heart and reflect. I shall take my leave. May the Empire’s peace be with you.”
The Count left, looking so dejected as if he might go hang himself right away. Although Cheshire had said ‘for a while,’ it was likely that neither the Count nor his family would be invited to imperial events for several years.
Cheshire tapped Sahara’s shoulder as if brushing something off.
“You and your troops should rest well today. We’ll meet tomorrow morning at the south gate. We’ll be departing in haste.”
“Understood.”
She obediently lowered her eyes. As she gave a slight bow, Cheshire was about to turn away but added.
“You’ll soon meet His Majesty the Emperor, so during the journey to the capital, maintain proper conduct to avoid attracting such small insects.”
After saying it, he realized it was something he had never said to a woman before. Maintain proper conduct? What exactly is proper conduct? Coming from someone who had spent his life undressing countless women’s dresses, it was incredibly ironic.
“I mean as a knight, not as a woman.”
The added explanation seemed odd too, but Sahara didn’t seem to mind and bowed her head.
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
She complied without a single sharp word.
She was an utterly bland woman. If she had made even a slight jest in response to his colorless words, he could have continued the conversation. But with her head bowed, hiding her pretty face and showing only her crown, she felt more like a knight than a woman.
“You may go.”
Cheshire dismissed her and turned away. After taking a few steps, he looked back to see her letting out a small sigh with that doll-like face before returning to her quarters. Her face, devoid of any makeup, looked clear.
If he hadn’t actually seen her handling a sword, he wouldn’t have believed it. But that overwhelming presence in the dark alley immediately made him realize she was the monster from the North in the rumors.
The hand he had grabbed was firm and hard, unlike other women’s hands. Her shoulders, too, were angular and taut instead of soft and round. Different from men’s, they were small and slender. ―A firm shoulder that fit in one hand.
“…Still, that might have been a bit of an exaggeration.”
No matter how you looked at it, she didn’t seem capable of gouging out eyes and chewing them.
“……”
…Did she really chew them? She didn’t look like someone who would chew eyeballs, but she looked even less like someone who would tell such lies or boasts.
“……”
Cheshire consciously shook off the hand that had held her and moved on.
§ § § § §
Until yesterday, the sky had looked so beautiful.
“……”
The sky was yellow. No, it wasn’t the sky that was yellow, but her mood. Sahara looked at the sky and then lowered her head with gloomy eyes. Her long eyelashes drooped heavily.
“Oh my, are you going to sink the ground with all that sighing?”
Buzz, who had come out carrying luggage, chided Sahara, who was standing heavily in front of the lodgings as if embracing dark clouds.
“Why are you so down? His Highness the Crown Prince said it was fine, didn’t he?”
“…I committed an act of disloyalty before even meeting His Majesty the Emperor.”
Sahara muttered dejectedly.
She had nearly killed the Crown Prince, threatened him with a sword, and even criticized him for being an idiot who couldn’t protect a woman. She couldn’t even kneel properly when he revealed his name.
Would she die? If only the Crown Prince had ordered her insolent head to be cut off, she could have died honorably. Instead, he forgave Sahara and treated her too generously. Ever since learning that the strangely sparkling person was the Crown Prince, Sahara had been in a daze.
“Isn’t it better than committing it after meeting him?”
Is that supposed to be comforting?
“…I still think dying would be the way to fulfill my duty.”
It was a thought she had never had even when she was rolling around in that cold place, running away, and nearly dying in the snow, but now she felt she had no face to live.
“Wouldn’t the Commander’s death be more troublesome for His Highness? He’s been tasked with bringing you to the capital.”
“…Then after we arrive at the capital…”
“Well, let’s think about that when we get there.”
Sahara nodded at the words telling her to calm down for now, patting her shoulder. As Sahara furrowed her beautiful eyebrows and sank into worry, she looked utterly pitiful.
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