Chapter 70
“More beautiful and nobler than the stars, the little sun of the Empire, the jewel of the Empire, Her Highness, the exalted Crown Princess Celestia Mond.”
The words that pointed to me, the voice of Killian reciting his oath—it was so very different from when he had spoken it as a seven-year-old.
But the oath Killian spoke was still the same….
“You are the light that illuminates the path I walk, the reason I have to love the days I live, and the master of the sword I wield. I swear to dedicate all of myself to you until the last day of my life.”
It was that same vow as before—the one that bound him to me.
Why…?
As I looked at him, my face filled with tangled emotions, Killian smiled faintly.
If only his eyes had been pleading, if only he had stubbornly insisted that I accept this precious oath as though asking for something in return. If it had been like that, perhaps I could have pretended not to see the weight of his feelings—nor my own.
“I really wanted to give you this oath.”
Killian extended the sword to me. The very sword I had bought for him—the one carrying a fragment of my soul….
I wished the tears wouldn’t fall. So I held my breath. My chest ached, choked by the air I was denying myself.
“Tia?”
I tried to exhale, but what burst out instead were tears.
“Killian…”
Why are you doing this to me, really.
Unable even to accept the sword, I bowed my head, sobbing uncontrollably. Killian pulled me tightly into his arms.
“Don’t cry, Tia.”
“I don’t kno-ow… sniff… why are you, sob… doing this…”
“You’re not crying because you don’t like me, right?”
“Of course no-ot… sniff, never…”
“Thank goodness. Thank you, Tia, for letting me give this oath. Thank you so, so much.”
Thank you? When I didn’t—no, couldn’t—even accept it?
Killian just kept stroking my back, whispering thanks again and again while I wept in his arms.
“What the! Why are our Tia’s eyes like that! Was it you, Killian Märchen?”
A sharp voice cut across the table.
“Would Killian ever do such a thing.”
“…I don’t know, kind of looks like he would….”
Our answers came out at the same time—too different. Adele’s eyes widened in suspicion.
“What is this! Why do your answers not match? Killian, you tell me. Why was Tia crying?”
Since he couldn’t grill me directly, Adele had decided to go after Killian.
Killian glanced at me warmly before turning a bit sideways toward Adele and saying,
“She cried because she was proud of me becoming a knight.”
“What? Really?”
As soon as Adele’s eyes turned to me, I nodded furiously.
“Totally proud. Really moved. Felt like a parent watching their child succeed, I just couldn’t hold back…”
“So that’s all it was.”
Adele still didn’t seem fully convinced, but she softened, brushing the tears from my eyes with a gentle touch.
“Anyway, congratulations from me too.”
“Huh?”
“Congratulations on being officially appointed a knight.”
“Oh! Thanks.”
Clatter. Awkward. Their conversation was stiffer than usual.
Maybe because I was sitting right here? Hmm.
Normally I’d keep quiet, but since today was a good day, maybe I’d intervene a bit.
“Adele, Killian was appointed as the top of the new knights. Isn’t that amazing? And doesn’t he look so handsome in that ceremonial uniform? Look! Not just anyone can pull off such a pure white suit, but with his natural harmony tones, our Killian wears it perfectly.”
“Cough.”
“Pfft.”
“What kind of reactions are those?”
When I glared at them, Adele raised her hands high in surrender.
“I totally agree.”
“Of course you do.”
Satisfied with a smile, I then heard Adele exclaim,
“Oh, right! But what about you, Tia? Didn’t you say you were also going to wear ceremonial dress today?”
“I did, but I already changed out of it.”
“Already? Aw, why! I wanted to see you too! Killian, how did Tia look in it? Wait—don’t tell me. I’ll be annoyed if you’re the only one who saw. Actually, I don’t even need you to say it—I already know. She must’ve looked stunning, obviously. Ugh. Such a pity. What a shame.”
Because Adele was sulking over not seeing me in my ceremonial attire, my attempt to gush about Killian further fizzled out.
Not that it mattered—Killian was much prettier than me anyway. Adele, get a grip. Look properly. Look at him.
I wanted to say it, but her eyes already looked half-dazed—drunk on strawberries.
Wait!
Suddenly anxious, I nudged my foot under the table, tapping Killian’s leg.
Our eyes met.
Eat too, Killian. Otherwise she’ll take it all.
Mouthing the words silently, I watched as Killian stifled a smile, just staring at me.
What are you doing? Hurry up and eat.
I urged him again, but the depth in his gaze was so intense it felt like he could see straight into my innermost thoughts. Flustered, I looked away.
“Nom nom. Hyaa. Whash thish? Sho tasty!”
“Adele, I told you not to talk with your mouth full. That’s strawberry mousse.”
“Shooo tasty!”
“You mean really tasty?”
“Mm-hm! Nom nom.”
Adele stuffed the mousse into her mouth and gave a thumbs-up.
Shaking my head, I happened to meet Killian’s eyes again.
Stay calm. Don’t panic.
I sipped my tea to moisten my dry throat, then said casually, like usual,
“You should eat too, Killian.”
“Mm. I will, Tia. You eat plenty as well.”
After setting a slice of strawberry tart onto my plate, Killian finally picked up his fork.
Phew. Why does it suddenly feel so hot, or is that just me?
After the investiture ceremony, Jeron forced himself to stop his steps toward the Crown Princess’s palace.
Throughout the ceremony, Tia had sat upright on the throne beside the dais, her bearing radiating nobility—the very image of the Crown Princess.
Of course he already knew this truth, but because their relationship had mostly been defined by his role as guild master, he had unconsciously allowed himself to feel closer to her than he should have.
“And in a single moment, that distance is back where it belongs.”
He felt foolish for ever being excited, thinking he’d get to spend more time near her as her knight. In the end, Jeron would always only see her back.
During the ceremony, his eyes had been fixed on her. But their gazes only met a couple of times. The first time, he had been so startled that he gasped and ducked his head.
After that, Tia’s eyes were always on someone else.
Probably Killian Märchen.
Even in that solemn setting, Jeron could guess easily enough that the faint relaxations of Tia’s lips were because she had met Killian’s eyes.
“He does look impressive, even to me.”
Muttering to himself, Jeron left the palace.
Only two days remained until he was to move into the knights’ quarters—plenty of work to finish before then.
Upon reaching Achilles, Jeron first checked the letter from a guild member who had infiltrated the temple.
[Target absent. Temple claims no support was ever given to the lady’s teacher. They say they haven’t seen even a trace of him since she finished her basic divine power training.]
“Hm?”
Jeron tilted his head. No teacher at the temple? Then, had she lied?
He couldn’t jump to conclusions, but it certainly felt wrong.
Lady Rwendyph was Tia’s closest friend. If she not only hid her teacher but even invented one to deceive Tia….
Jeron picked up his pen.
[Withdraw. Change target. Attach to the disciple instead, and monitor closely.]
He hesitated at the word “monitor,” but excused it as being for the sake of completing the task Her Highness had given him.
If this drove a wedge between Tia and Lady Rwendyph… then maybe….
No.
Shaking off the low thought, Jeron forced himself back into focus.
Thankfully, there was also progress on Noten Märchen’s commission.
They had found an old woman—frail, but alive—who had once worked as a servant in the House of Marquis Alberto, more than a decade ago.
Jeron planned to meet her that very evening.
At the end of a long day.
Concealed by shadows at twilight, Jeron made his way to the marked location.
Why had the child born between Noten Märchen and Olivia Alberto been hidden for fourteen years? And why reveal the child’s existence now—without even Noten’s knowledge?
Who was pulling the strings? For what?
The one with answers could only be Marquis Alberto.
Though Jeron had never seen him, only someone like the Marquis could have secretly taken his daughter’s child and still dared to confront the Duke of Märchen.
“But why would he?”
Not as exalted as the Emperor, but Noten was still Duke Märchen—a strong marriage prospect.
Tia’s words often came back to him: “Those who already have power always want more.”
“Must be a man of endless greed.”
With that brief thought, Jeron quickened his pace. The night suited his work.
But when he arrived, what he found was far from what he expected.
Cough, cough.
An emaciated old woman lay on the ground, coughing up blood and fluids as though her body had nothing left to give.
“Who would do such a thing…!”
He dared not move rashly, so he waited.
“A-Albe… the Marquis… is looking… for the ch-child…”
With her final breath, the woman forced out the truth before closing her eyes.
“May you rest in peace.”
Jeron laid a handkerchief over her face and then leapt up into the trees.
The turmoil in his heart left his vision dark—
It was a heavy night.
