Chapter 6
“We won! Victory is ours!”
“We did it!”
“Long live Duke Draphania!”
Relief at surviving what seemed like a hopeless battle, and the ecstasy of victory, filled the soldiers with joy.
Only after checking first on the soldiers who needed immediate treatment did Quinlan finally have a moment to look around.
He spotted Phil Evans and Hugo Barrett, both catching their breath after the fight.
“……I’ve returned, my lord.”
Phil Evans, caught in Quinlan’s gaze, bowed deeply. His words earlier—that he might not return alive—had clearly been no empty talk.
He bowed his head, struggling to hold back tears.
Quinlan, watching him, let out a faint chuckle.
“You managed to come back alive after all.”
Perhaps because it was right after battle, Quinlan’s tone still carried the edge of killing intent as he spoke to Phil.
“We won because you arrived in time. Thanks to you.”
“Is that all? I really gave it everything I had out there.”
Phil answered with mock indignation, as if demanding more praise for his hardships.
But Quinlan’s attention was already elsewhere.
The silver knight wielding a halberd.
Ludice.
The moment he spotted her, emotions collided within him.
‘Why is she here…?’
A surge of bewilderment, followed closely by relief. If it was her, she’d be a greater force than anyone else—and indeed, she had been.
Perhaps sensing the weight of his gaze, Ludice, who had been setting aside her weapon, turned and approached.
The knights, still in awe of her skill with the halberd, stepped back as if clearing the way for her.
Now, only Phil Evans stood awkwardly between Quinlan and Ludice.
But he couldn’t retreat nor welcome her openly, so Phil rose clumsily to his feet, at a loss.
Just as he was about to chatter on, he shut his mouth instead—and quietly slipped away from the two of them.
“……”
“……”
Ludice and Quinlan’s eyes met.
The surroundings grew hushed. Only the birds, which had been holding their breath during the chaos of war, began to fill the air with sound again.
The soldiers, who had been rejoicing in victory, also fell silent when their lord did.
“……Come to think of it, who is that?”
“Not part of the Emperor’s army, it seems.”
The murmurs spread, and soon all eyes turned toward Quinlan and Ludice.
After some time, with Phil now gone from sight, Quinlan Draphania let out a quiet sigh. Not that he’d truly noticed him in the first place.
“Ludice.”
“You recognized me right away.”
“How could I not?”
The ones most shocked were those around them.
“Ludice? Who’s Ludice?”
“Wait… that name sounds familiar.”
“I’ve heard it plenty of times… Hold on. Ludice?”
“You don’t mean… the Duchess?”
The last knight’s voice cracked strangely. He pointed at the halberd-wielding knight, then gasped and yanked his own hand down.
Soon cries of realization spread through the ranks as more caught on.
Amidst the commotion, only two people remained calm—locked in each other’s gaze as if no one else existed.
“Well, of course you’d know.”
With a small smile, Ludice removed her helmet.
As the silver helm that had hidden her face disappeared, fiery strands of red hair tumbled free, cascading down her back.
It was as if a blazing red sun rose behind her, flames flickering and dancing in her wake.
Quinlan’s eyes were caught for a moment, but then returned to her.
“……”
Ludice bit her lip hard, keeping silent. The memory of the last time she had seen him came rushing back.
Hair once drenched in blood, now shining in its pure platinum glory. Eyes once closed forever, now alive, glowing with vivid blue.
Quinlan Draphania—breathing, living, radiant with life itself.
Swallowing back a sob, Ludice tilted her head slightly at him.
“My arms are sore… it’s been a while since I swung that much.”
Quinlan frowned slightly and extended his hand. As though she had anticipated it, Ludice gently set her helmet in his palm.
He frowned faintly at the blood-stained helmet, then promptly handed it to his adjutant without a word.
Ludice watched him quietly.
How much effort it was taking not to throw herself into his arms.
Even the deep lines in his brow when lost in thought—it felt like she had seen them only yesterday.
For five years, she had mourned and longed for him. But Quinlan must believe it had only been a single year since he last saw her.
Yet none of that mattered. To her, simply having him alive before her was happiness enough.
Unaware of the depth of her gaze, Quinlan let out a sigh.
“Did you bring the Ebnian knights with you?”
“Sir Gudel lent me a decury.”
“Why you? Do they not have a captain of their own?”
“My command is far better. Have you forgotten? I was the vice-commander of the Ebnian Order.”
“……”
Unfortunately, she was right. Without Ludice’s leadership, they wouldn’t have secured this victory.
The woman looking at him with tear-bright eyes was without doubt his wife—Ludice Draphania.
“It would be better if we spoke alone—”
“Quinlan.”
Before he could finish, long, pale fingers reached out. Ludice grasped his hand.
“Ludice?”
“……”
Without a word, she traced his hand gently.
“This isn’t a dream, then.”
Those words were all she spoke as she quietly looked down at his hand.
Her golden eyes glistened with moisture as they curved into a faint smile.
Quinlan couldn’t understand. He wanted to ask why—but no words would come.
Her shoulders seemed so small as she stared intently at his hand.
So he simply watched her, for a very long time.
Duke Quinlan Draphania returned victorious from the war against the barbarians.
News of the triumph spread swiftly. The soldiers under his command returned to warm welcomes and celebration.
The prince’s reinforcements, arriving late, had contributed nothing and returned in shame.
The Duke did not rest in any castle along the way, but hurried straight back to the capital—with the Duchess at his side.
At last, a day before word of their return reached the Imperial Palace, Quinlan and Ludice arrived at the Ducal estate.
“My lord.”
The head butler, Gordon, greeted him. The elderly steward struggled to hold back tears as he bowed to his master.
“You’ve done well.”
Accepting the greeting, Quinlan looked around. Not only Gordon, but all the household staff and even Belmond, the captain of the guard, had come to welcome him.
“You all worked hard to protect the house in my absence. There will be no more wars for us to march to. Not anymore.”
Quinlan’s eyes moved over those gathered—until finally, his gaze found Ludice, who stood quietly behind him.
He looked at her silently, then turned forward again.
“The House of Draphania has completely reclaimed the western lands. Now, only the restoration of our ancient glory remains.”
His solemn declaration was met with thunderous cheers.
Watching the scene, Ludice slowly blinked.
Quinlan Draphania.
He lived. He had not died.
That meant only one thing for her. She had to ensure that neither Draphania nor Quinlan ever fell into danger again.
Ludice clenched her fists.
The time had come to strike back at the enemies etched in her memory.
“Phew… I’m exhausted.”
Ludice let out a long sigh and collapsed onto the bed.
She had thought she was dead—but then she woke. Without time to recover, she had gone to the palace, requested aid from the Ebnian knights, raced to the White Valley, and saved Quinlan.
It had all happened in a blur.
While the events swept her along, she hadn’t even noticed the fatigue. But now that she had returned home with Quinlan, the exhaustion finally came crashing down.
Her gaze drifted up absentmindedly to the ceiling fresco—the depiction of a victorious battle.
A golden-haired archangel raised a massive spear high in triumph. At his feet lay fallen enemies, while cherubs surrounded him in adoration and praise.
When was the last time she had seen this painting?
In her past life, after Quinlan’s death, she had moved to another room. She hadn’t spent much time here afterward.
Perhaps that was why it felt strangely unfamiliar. And yet, surely she had slept here the night before he left for war…
