Chapter 15…….
You May Call Me a “Fool”
After the unbelievable storm of sensations swept through me like a raging tempest, Mick was still behind me, arms locked tightly around my waist, face buried against the nape of my neck, catching his breath.
As our ragged breathing gradually steadied and our heartbeats began to fall back into rhythm, his lips started teasing once again along my neck and behind my ear.
“Leah, how do you feel? You’re not hurt, are you?”
“I still feel like I’ve been struck by lightning, but still… hhh!”
A shiver like an electric current shot down my neck and sides, and I couldn’t help but twitch every time his lips brushed and lifted away.
My squirming only seemed to please him further. A low, satisfied chuckle rumbled from his throat, and then he turned my body toward him.
His lips trailed down my neck, slowly making their way to my shoulder. I reached out and toyed with his hair, his dark locks silky as they slipped through my fingers.
“Mmm…” An unbidden moan of pleasure escaped me.
Only after our first night together did I realize—not only his face, but his hair, arms, legs, chest, even down to his fingers—all were exactly to my taste. Of course, the best of all was still his face.
I tried to lift his head from where it was nestled against me, but he resisted with a grumble of protest.
With no choice, I gently stroked his hair and whispered,
“Mick, a lot of time has passed. You should get up, wash, and prepare for departure.”
Instead, he groaned and pulled me even closer by the waist.
“Mick… still, you should at least eat something.”
He let out a heavy sigh against my chest before finally lifting his head.
Though he had devoured me just moments earlier, his gaze was still like that of a predator eyeing its prey.
“Leah, aren’t you… hungry?”
“Me? Of course, but… Mick, you’re the one who needs to eat before you leave—”
My words were cut short as his lips claimed mine. His hand slid down my spine, burning hot again, as if set aflame.
That heat spread into me like wildfire each time his hand skimmed from my back to my shoulder and down my arm.
“Leah, forgive me, but if you’ll allow it…”
“Ahh!”
He suddenly nipped at my shoulder.
“Just once more. Please?”
Though his tone feigned pleading, he was already moving in, consuming me again like a tiger pouncing on its rabbit.
*** * * **
Outside the bridal chamber, Millie sat crouched beside a tray of food when William came rushing over.
“His Highness?”
Millie shook her head slowly. William scratched his forehead, looking troubled.
“There’s less than twenty minutes until departure…”
“Maybe he won’t be able to leave today. After all, it is their wedding night.”
William let out a quiet sigh at her words.
“If Her Majesty comes out later to see him off, make sure you’ve prepared a scarf.”
“A scarf? Why?”
“Knights tie a scarf received from their lady at the tip of their lance before marching out.”
Millie nodded.
“That’s an interesting custom here in Fritan.”
“Some knights carry one from their mother or sister, but none inspires resolve to return alive like a scarf from a wife or lover.”
“I see.”
Millie tilted her head, then suddenly asked with curiosity,
“Did you ever receive a scarf, Sir William?”
“What?”
Her surprise question flustered him.
“A perfect knight like me has no need to cling to such things.”
“Really? Then does that mean His Highness Mickloch isn’t perfect, since he needs Her Majesty’s scarf?”
“Ridiculous!”
Offended by the irreverence, William snapped back. But realizing his own contradiction, he glanced away and checked his watch.
“Damn, only ten minutes left. No choice. Millie, step aside.”
He lifted her out of the way and pounded on the chamber door.
“Your Highness, it’s Will. May I enter?”
He hadn’t really expected a reply—but a calm voice answered from within.
“Come in.”
Startled, William and Millie exchanged looks.
Recovering quickly, William pushed the door open and stepped inside, Millie following with the food tray.
Millie stayed waiting in the adjoining sitting room, but William strode through the archway into the bedchamber.
There stood Mickloch in full black armor, helmet in one hand, the other gently caressing Leah’s cheek as she gazed at him wistfully.
William froze, then quickly retreated back out of the archway.
Leah looked up at Mickloch, her face full of reluctance to let him go, while he looked down at her with just as much unwillingness.
“Four months, you said?”
“Yes. I’ll return as quickly as possible. If you need guidance, consult Duke Xenon, the Chancellor.”
“I will. And keep that promise you made earlier.”
Mickloch smiled faintly at her serious gaze.
“Of course. But you must keep yours too.”
“You’d better hurry back. If you’re late by even a day, the promise is broken.”
Her stubborn words made him chuckle as he pulled her into his arms. Her delicate body fit perfectly against his chest. He kissed her temple lightly—yet even that small contact made his body tighten with longing again.
“This is maddening.”
His handsome face contorted with frustration. Resting his chin on her head, he murmured,
“I thought three hours would be enough… Leah, you may call me a fool.”
A faint smile bloomed across her lips. Mickloch studied her with concern.
“If it’s too much, you don’t have to come see me off.”
“No, I must. I’ll definitely be there.”
Her determination made his lips curl with satisfaction.
He gave her one last fierce embrace, then abruptly pulled away.
“Will, let’s go.”
“Y-yes!”
As soon as he was gone, Leah’s legs gave out and she collapsed onto the bed.
The time she’d just shared with him already felt like a dream.
He was the man who treated her—an unwanted daughter of House Uzkal—more preciously than any woman in the world.
She remembered just before he rose from bed, how he had kissed and licked the scar on his palm. She had then kissed his palm in return.
That was when she noticed something unusual.
“Why is your hand like this? Did a monster wound you?”
“Oh, this? No, it’s not an injury…”
“When did it become like this? Doesn’t it hurt?”
“It doesn’t really—”
Before he could finish, she pressed her lips against the scar again in pity. He paused, breath catching, then continued,
“Well, maybe it does ache sometimes when I clench it.”
She kissed the scar once more, making him twitch again. Looking pitiful, he added,
“And when it rains, it throbs more…”
Goodness, how often must it have rained all his life! Thinking of his pain each time, Leah’s eyes filled with sorrow.
“Heh…”
At last, he burst out laughing, unable to hold back, then showered her with kisses all over her face, neck, and shoulders.
“Leah, you are… so unbearably lovable.”
“Mick, what is this? You lied about being hurt?”
“Yes. In truth, it’s more of a… birth secret.”
At those words, her eyes went wide.
What? I have a birth secret too!
Her lips parted unconsciously, and he stole another quick kiss.
“I’ll tell you when I return.”
“All right. Then I’ll share one of my secrets too.”
“Your secret?”
His expression darkened suddenly. Biting her earlobe, he asked in a low growl,
“It’s not related to that boy, is it?”
“I told you, there’s nothing between me and Robbie.”
“Then?”
“It’s… about my mother.”
“Your mother? Good. Then I’ll hear it when I return.”
They sealed the promise with a deep kiss… but already, that moment felt far away.
As Leah reminisced, Millie approached carrying a fur coat and several scarves, her own white scarf already tied around her neck.
“Your Majesty, we have no time to lose.”
She bundled Leah in the heavy fur coat, then shook out over a dozen colorful scarves before her.
“You must give His Highness a scarf to wish him fortune in battle. Quickly, choose one before the send-off.”
Leah picked a deep violet one, tossing the rest aside, and hurried out.
“Yes, let’s go. We must give it to him before he leaves.”
Already aching with longing, her steps quickened. She didn’t notice Millie slipping something hastily into her pocket as she followed.
*** * * **
By the time they reached the main square before the castle gates, darkness had fully fallen.
There, one hundred royal knights stood mounted in formation—the Special Task Force to march with Mickloch.
All wore the same black armor and helmets, swords at their sides, long black lances in hand. At the tips of many lances fluttered colorful scarves like banners.
Under flickering torchlight, their determined faces were ready to charge at the signal.
“Millie, it’s a four-month campaign, yet only a hundred men?”
Surprised at the small number, Leah turned to her maid, who shook her head.
“This elite vanguard will sweep through the Maon tribe in the west first. Then, three days later, the First, Second, and Third Divisions will march from the south, clearing monsters as they go. The rear forces number nearly ten times as many.”
Leah blinked in astonishment at Millie’s detailed knowledge.
“Millie, who told you all that?”
“Sir Freddy, during the wait.”
“Sir Freddy? The red-haired twin knight?”
Millie nodded, then spotted him in the crowd and waved happily. He waved back with a smile.
Wow, our Millie really does make friends easily.
“Go quickly to His Highness.”
The knights parted as Leah approached. Mick, having just finished speaking with the division commanders, turned at the sight of her. From atop his horse, his deep blue eyes softened.
“Here… please take this.”
Leah kissed the violet scarf lightly before handing it to him.
Mick tied it proudly to the tip of his lance. Raising it high, the scarf streamed in the wind like a banner, and the knights roared their approval.
Then, bending low from horseback, Mick kissed her. She rose on tiptoe, clinging desperately to his neck, as cheers thundered louder around them.
“I’ll be back.”
With those tender words, he straightened in the saddle.
As his horse surged forward like the wind, the violet scarf whipped wildly at the tip of his lance.
William, Ralph, and the hundred knights followed like shadows.
And thus, my husband Mickloch and his knights departed for the battlefield.
