#008. Knight of Saden
Sometimes, there are those who come from beyond the cursed forest where Aquila Castle is located.
As is customary, they cross the forest—and those who survive do not lose their honor despite leaving their clan, and are treated with respect by their kin.
They are the Saden.
Giants over two meters tall, possessing such strength that they can swing a carriage axle like a spear.
They call themselves descendants of ancient giants, though few truly believe that claim.
Still, their pride is unwavering.
For that reason, Lord Hothongel could not hide his astonishment at Anastasia, who had taken in a Saden knight in just a single day.
Perhaps it was an achievement even greater than crafting a garment overnight.
“Does it fit you, Princess?”
Lord Hothongel’s tone was extremely respectful.
“Yes, it seems to fit. Thank you for your hard work, Lord Hothongel.”
Since the tower had collapsed, Anastasia no longer had a room of her own. Sorban had left without discussing her accommodations, but there were ways around it.
“More importantly… what do you plan to do going forward?”
Her original room existed, but it had not been cleaned at all.
However, within the duke’s estate, there were always plenty of guest rooms available.
She could simply choose one and stay there temporarily.
Sorban could not object to that.
He himself had destroyed the tower, and in the end, he had been completely overpowered by Anastasia.
Even if he abandoned all dignity and decorum and gathered soldiers to challenge her, victory would be unlikely.
“I already asked them to clean the room I used when I was younger. If necessary, staying here wouldn’t be so bad either.”
Of course, even a guest room was far better than the small attic atop the tower.
At that moment, someone knocked on the door.
“Princess. It’s Enoch. It’s about time to depart.”
Since no one had been assigned to assist Anastasia with her dress, Lord Hothongel had to go back into town and bring several staff members from a shop.
As a result, fitting a single dress had taken until the sun began to set.
“Yes, Enoch. We’re almost done. Right, Lord Hothongel?”
“That is correct.”
Anastasia was wearing a dress perfectly suited for a night butterfly.
Precious fabrics from across the sea unfolded under Lord Hothongel’s wrinkled fingertips.
The dress shimmered with a soft bluish hue like the wings of a swallowtail butterfly, while the overall tone remained elegant black.
However, neither the gloves she wore nor the long hair ornament adorning her brilliant golden hair outshone Anastasia’s natural beauty.
“…It is complete.”
The elderly artist could not hide his admiration for the beauty he had created with his own hands.
“The timing is perfect.”
Anastasia flicked her fingertips lightly, opening the door with magic.
“Shall I escort you to the carriage?”
“If your knees can still handle it.”
Anastasia replied with a touch of wit, and Lord Hothongel smiled as he escorted her.
With every small step she took, the old tailor marveled. Each movement carried both grace and fragility.
Like the motion of a butterfly.
Standing before the carriage, he bowed deeply to Anastasia as she returned the gesture in thanks.
“Thank you for making such a fine outfit. I hope to commission you again in the future.”
“This is the first time in my long life that I’ve felt such excitement, Princess. I look forward to working with you again.”
Anastasia nodded lightly.
Indeed.
There was no one on this land more skilled than Esteban Hothongel when it came to clothing and fine accessories, so it would be wise to maintain a good relationship.
“By the way, Lord Hothongel.”
“Yes, is there something else you require?”
“Yes. Something quite confidential.”
Anastasia stepped closer and whispered into his ear.
“…I need clothing suitable for hunters.”
The content was quite unexpected, and Lord Hothongel’s eyes widened.
“…Hunting attire, you say?”
“Yes.”
“Are you planning to go hunting with noble ladies as a pastime, Princess?”
Revealing too much information was not advisable.
Anastasia decided to deflect the question appropriately.
“Something like that. But please keep the colors subdued. Mostly black.”
For a moment, Lord Hothongel imagined the beautiful figure of a banshee, a spirit said to cry out death atop the roof of the dead.
What exactly was this delicate young lady planning?
However, the old artist knew how to distinguish between what he should and should not inquire about.
“Understood. You wish for practicality over extravagance.”
“I’m glad we understand each other.”
“I shall do my utmost. Please come back in a week. However, you will be late for the ball.”
Lord Hothongel then presented an antique oak box adorned with silver embellishments.
Inside were a mask decorated with amethyst and opal, and a folding fan made of peacock feathers.
After Anastasia put on the mask and held the fan, Enoch hurriedly opened the carriage door.
“All preparations are complete. We must leave at once, Princess. Though… Diana is nowhere to be seen?”
“Who knows. She may have already left. Let’s go, Enoch. We can manage without her.”
Anastasia placed her hand lightly into Enoch’s outstretched hand, which wore pristine white gloves.
Since becoming a coachman, Enoch had never once carried someone beside him on the coachman’s seat.
Naturally, he had also never carried someone on top of the carriage.
“…What on earth is going on?”
The black carriage he drove was pulled by four black horses.
That alone would have been enough, but atop the carriage roof where Anastasia sat, a knight had taken a cross-legged seated position.
No matter that Anastasia had approved it, Enoch could not help but worry that such a bizarre sight might negatively affect her reputation at the royal capital.
However, his concern did not last long.
As the sun disappeared completely beyond the sharp treetops of the forest and the red sunset faded like stains on laundry, night approached, covering the sky in deep navy black.
As the darkness grew, the knight’s massive body on top of the carriage began to shrink.
Soon, when the sunlight had completely vanished, Artorius returned fully to his original form.
“Would you make a little room beside you?”
Enough to sit next to Enoch.
“…What exactly is happening here?”
It was a phenomenon beyond his understanding.
“Let’s just call it a curse.”
A cursed knight, indeed.
Though he was concerned about Anastasia’s future, Enoch knew such worries were beyond his place.
“Come down.”
All he had to do was accept and serve.
From the moment he heard Diana’s scream as she fell from the tower, Enoch had realized that a strong will had begun to take root within Anastasia.
“Thank you.”
Artorius moved lightly and sat beside the coachman.
“Are you really the princess’s knight?”
There was little doubt or suspicion in his voice—just a reflexive question.
“In a sense, yes.”
“In a sense… I see.”
Enoch fell silent with a bitter expression.
“Do you have more questions?”
Artorius asked as he removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm.
His dark hair, deeper than the night itself, fluttered in the strong wind. Moonlight brushed his sharp nose, and his lips, vivid like those of a noblewoman’s neck just bitten, gleamed.
Enoch began to grow uneasy.
“Just in case, let me ask.”
“…?”
The old coachman straightened himself. Though elderly, he had once been a chief butler and a swordsman unmatched in the North.
“You are not someone who would harm the princess, are you?”
He did not normally refer to a person as an “entity,” but Enoch simply found Artorius’s appearance inhuman.
Like a demon or a vampire from classical tales—an appearance capable of bewitching people.
Artorius’s eyes, fixed calmly on Enoch, were the same deep navy blue as hers.
“You are loyal.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Enoch held the reins in one hand and the handle of his staff in the other.
With a single twist, a sharp blue blade would emerge from within.
“Even if I may not be human…”
Artorius continued slowly, raising his head to gaze at the moon.
“I am not someone who would harm her.”
At that moment—
A strange sound came from behind them.
The rolling of carriage wheels at high speed.
The other members of the ducal household had clearly departed before Anastasia.
Moreover…
This road was a single path.
If someone was pursuing them, they had to be from the ducal estate.
“Unsettling.”
Enoch was filled with unease. Nothing the duke had ever done toward the princess had been reasonable or kind.
And then came a chilling sound.
The creaking cry of a drawn bowstring pierced through the sound of the wheels.
“So they truly intend to kill their own daughter. Remarkable.”
Artorius’s tone was clearly sarcastic.
He leapt from the coachman’s seat onto the roof of the carriage in a single motion.
Anastasia slightly opened the carriage door and looked up at him.
“What is it, Artorius?”
“You should stay inside. It seems unwelcome guests have arrived from the estate.”
Unwelcome guests?
Anastasia smiled faintly.
Considering what had happened in the morning, it wasn’t particularly surprising.
They were likely trying to cause an incident here to prevent her from attending the ball.
“Artorius.”
“Do you have a request?”
“Yes.”
Looking up at Artorius, Anastasia’s eyes swirled once again with deep navy currents.
“Do not hold back.”
“…Understood.”
Artorius rose to his feet atop the carriage and drew his radiant greatsword from his back.
Standing against the moonlight, he faced the abyss of darkness below.
Beneath his helmet, his blue eyes gleamed like stars once more.
Anastasia felt the carriage lurch heavily once—he had leapt.
The House of Etranger would lose several loyal knights today.
Beyond the rumbling wheels came the sound of human screams.
Enoch continued to drive the carriage as the distant royal castle, with its towering spires, drew closer, while the screams gradually faded into the distance.
Enoch cautiously opened the small window beside the coachman’s seat and asked Anastasia:
“…Princess.”
“Yes, Enoch.”
“…Are you truly alright?”
Anastasia shrugged, then leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs. Holding the fan she had received as a gift, she nodded slowly.
“Enoch.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“Anyone who draws a blade before me is someone prepared to die.”
