Chapter 14
Finally, Sigmund emerged from the building, and his eyes fell upon a place where several people had gathered.
Without hesitation, Sigmund ran straight toward them.
“Step aside.”
At the voice, colder than a winter gale, the crowd surrounding the pond parted. And then what had been hidden was revealed.
Sigmund’s eyes widened as he spotted Arnulf lying on the ground.
“Lord Arnulf!”
Arnulf was completely soaked, clearly having just come out of the water. His eyes were tightly shut, and his mouth slightly open. He seemed unconscious.
Joseph was nearby, but Sigmund didn’t even notice him.
“Step aside!”
Servants who had received the message rushed past Sigmund toward Arnulf and Joseph.
“Both of them are unconscious. We must get them to the hospital immediately!”
The servants quickly lifted them onto their backs. One who carried Joseph flinched at the overpowering smell of alcohol, but even that failed to capture Sigmund’s attention.
He followed the running servants, eyes fixed on Arnulf’s condition. His complexion was pale, his expression one of pain.
Arnulf was a skilled swimmer. Having trained his body for years, he could hold his breath underwater for a significant time.
So it seemed impossible that he would be in such a state of distress—this was unusual. His pale face only heightened Sigmund’s unease.
He wanted to check immediately whether Arnulf was breathing.
Just as Sigmund, unable to contain himself, reached out to touch Arnulf’s cheek,
“This way!”
A group of approaching doctors shouted tensely. They had already been informed that Arnulf had fallen into the pond and was being brought to the hospital in critical condition.
The servants followed the doctors into the examination room, while Sigmund was stopped by the hospital staff at the entrance.
“Please wait outside.”
Everything happened so fast that Sigmund barely had time to feel Arnulf’s temperature.
Before long, Queen Louise and Prince Albrecht, accompanied by several knights, arrived at the hospital.
Without giving Sigmund a glance, Queen Louise and Albrecht went straight inside.
“Arnulf!”
A wail of grief came from behind the closed doors. It was Queen Louise’s voice.
Sigmund pushed past the staff and ran into the examination room.
Queen Louise was gazing down at the bed with a solemn expression. Prince Albrecht stood beside her.
A white cloth covered the body on the bed.
“…”
Realizing the situation, Sigmund staggered, unable to breathe properly.
“Sir Sigmund.”
Queen Louise, noticing Sigmund’s arrival, lifted her head. Her eyes, calm despite the sorrow and pain on her face, seemed to tell Sigmund everything he needed to know.
“Arnulf has passed away.”
It felt as if the air had been sucked out of him, as if he had fallen into a dark pond.
He opened his mouth, but could neither breathe nor speak.
Sigmund’s disbelieving gaze returned to the bed. He slowly approached and reached out. His fingers trembled as they touched the edge of the cloth.
When he tried to pull it down, someone grabbed his hand to stop him.
“I’m sorry, but I cannot bear to see my dead son’s face.”
It was Queen Louise. Her head shook, her expression firm and resolute.
Sigmund could not refuse her hand. It was the queen, after all.
His gaze swept across the others in the room. Prince Albrecht and the knights who had come to escort them were all there.
To Sigmund, it was like being in the midst of enemy territory.
“Your Majesty.”
“I apologize. I wish to conduct my son’s funeral quietly, without witnessing the suffering of his death.”
“Why…?”
Why did he die? Sigmund could barely form the question, his breathing still uneven.
“Even when he was rescued from the water, his condition was not good. It seems he passed away while being transported to the hospital. I am truly sorry.”
The answer came not from Queen Louise, but from the doctor who had stood silently until then. No precise cause, just that explanation.
Yet the queen did not press further.
A prince of the realm had died—a loyal, capable knight who had performed his duties diligently. But there was no further inquiry into his death, no chance to honor him.
“Your Majesty is in a delicate state. We wish to proceed quietly to prevent a disturbance, and we hope Sir Sigmund understands.”
Though framed as a request, it was effectively an order.
But Sigmund could not back down. He needed to touch him, to know whether he was truly cold, whether he was still breathing. It could not end like this.
“Let me! Let me see!”
Sigmund tried to pull the cloth from Arnulf, but was immediately stopped. Several knights restrained him and began dragging him out of the examination room.
Queen Louise watched the scene with a sorrowful expression, but Sigmund was not deceived. Her cold expression revealed that she was not grieving over Arnulf’s death in the way one might expect.
“Please, Your Majesty! Just once, let me see Lord Arnulf!”
But no matter how strong Sigmund was, he could not contend with so many. Even screaming and thrashing like a beast was useless.
After Sigmund was removed, Prince Arnulf’s funeral was prepared immediately, and by the next day, before sunset, he was transported to the royal cemetery.
Sigmund could only see Arnulf’s face once more, just before the coffin was closed.
The only part his eyes reached was Arnulf’s neck—marked with scratches, as if struggling to free himself from something suffocating.
“Go ahead.”
As Sigmund left the mansion, the butler bowed in farewell. He merely nodded in response and set off.
Sigmund had accepted Baron Preang’s invitation to go out.
The evening sky was tinged red. Sigmund chose to walk rather than take a carriage.
The alley between the mansions was a shortcut to his destination.
It was not long before…
“Hey.”
A voice called from the shadows of the alley. Sigmund did not falter, continuing forward.
“Hey, you there!”
“Stop right there.”
A few steps later, at a fork in the path, two men jumped out and blocked Sigmund’s way.
Both were bulky, with rough faces—thugs.
“What’s this?”
The two thugs chuckled at the question.
“Looks like a polite young master is going out for a night stroll?”
One of them, with a scar on his forehead, asked teasingly. Sigmund’s sharp eyebrows twitched.
Some often mistook Sigmund because of his tall, slender frame and handsome appearance. Perhaps these were the same type of people.
“Get lost.”
Sigmund said coldly, but the thugs ignored him. From behind, he sensed even more people approaching—clearly their numbers had increased.
“Well, well. We’d like to leave too, but we can’t just let you go, can we?”
The scar-faced thug jeered, swaying slightly.
“Come on, pretty boy. Hand it over.”
Another thug laughed maliciously, adding:
“You’d better not hide it. If we catch you, you won’t leave this alley in one piece. Got it?”
Sigmund carried no sword, having left it behind for a social gathering. But it did not matter; he was skilled enough in combat. The thugs’ ignorance would prove unfortunate for them. Sigmund’s eyes glinted coldly—he decided it was time to settle this quickly.
“Get lost.”
He warned once more, though the thugs ignored him again.
“So, you won’t give it up quietly.”
Tsk tsk. One of the thugs clicked his tongue and signaled to the others—just then,
“What’s this?”
A somewhat high, cynical voice came from the alley entrance.
“Ah!”
“Ugh!”
The two thugs blocking Sigmund’s path were suddenly attacked and fell screaming.
“What—what’s going on?”
One thug, stunned, looked ahead and saw a man brushing back curly hair, laughing.
“Who are you?”
The thug yelled, squinting. The man had swiftly dealt with the two and clapped his hands casually, speaking in a nonchalant tone:
“Who, me? Just a passerby.”
Sigmund slowly turned and finally saw the newcomer.
Hair glowing like sunset, a supple waist, a tall frame. Eyes green and fresh like a sunlit summer forest, shining even in the dark alley.
“Joseph.”
Sigmund finally said the name aloud.
“Huh?”
The man, realizing who he had helped, widened his eyes.
His face reflected surprise and embarrassment.
“Ah… Sir Sigmund.”
He had only glanced into the alley by chance. Seeing a group of men gathered reminded him of the last incident.
Even in a safe capital, accidents and trouble often happened in dark alleys at dusk.
He had assumed Arnulf had again been wrongly targeted by thugs. He had only thought to help.
“So, we meet again, huh?”
Joseph gave an awkward smile. Truly, why do they keep running into each other, he thought internally.
