Chapter 41
A Reckless Wish
Whoooosh—
The clear early autumn sky suddenly grew cloudy, and a cool gust of wind swept across the wide imperial training ground, brushing past the two people standing opposite each other.
“Are you all right, Lady? You seem rather nervous?”
Diego, his sword at his waist and striding confidently onto the platform first, threw a mocking glance at Jimena.
“Yes, Your Highness. I’m very nervous. Especially with so many watching as I spar with you… my heart pounds in fear that I might make a fool of myself.”
Determined to crush Jimena’s spirit, Diego had deliberately gathered imperial guards, attendants, and maids to watch, even summoning palace physicians in case she got hurt.
“Hahaha! My lady, don’t worry so much. Surely I wouldn’t treat a delicate woman roughly? I heard you’ve recently taken up swordsmanship as a hobby, so think of this as just enjoying a pastime together. There’s no need to be so tense.”
He drew his sword and twirled it with a cocky flourish.
Jimena, watching him, suddenly seemed to recall something and asked with an innocent expression:
“But Your Highness, isn’t every game more exciting if there are stakes attached to victory and defeat?”
“Hmm? Stakes? What do you mean?”
“Look around you. So many have given their precious time to witness this spar. Shouldn’t we at least give them an entertaining match?”
She gestured at the onlookers surrounding the platform.
“An entertaining match? And what do you have in mind?”
“Even though this duel is clearly in Your Highness’s favor, it would mean more if there were rewards or penalties tied to the outcome. That way, both of us could fight in earnest.”
Her words drew nods of agreement from the spectators.
“That’s a good idea. Then, my lady, you may state your wish first. Who knows? If it’s something I can grant, I might even deliberately lose.”
“Oh, really? Then I’ll be bold and go first. If I should win this duel…”
Clang!
Jimena finally drew her sword and leveled its cold edge at Diego.
“…you must withdraw your proposal of marriage to me!”
“What—what did you say?”
The crowd erupted into murmurs.
“Ha! My lady, isn’t that far too reckless a demand? To wager a proposal on a duel?” Diego scowled in disbelief.
“Your Highness, it’s only a reckless wish—since there’s no chance of me winning, you’ve no real reason to refuse. Or… could it be you’re actually worried I might beat you?”
Her sly taunt made Diego’s pride twitch, his brow furrowing deeper.
“Hmph, hardly! Very well, I shall prove just how reckless your wish is. But then, if I win…”
He raised his sword and pointed it at her with a bitter smile.
“…why not skip the engagement and proceed straight to the wedding ceremony?”
“Agreed, Your Highness. Let’s do that.”
Their gazes clashed, sharper than the steel in their hands.
“Captain, Lady Silvestre has sent you another letter.”
“What? Hand it here!”
At the mention of Jimena’s letter, Kylian hastily snatched it from Wehl’s hand.
*Marquis Thermos, thank you for the lovely bouquet you sent last time. Thanks to your concern, I’ve recovered much of my health.
And to hear that you would visit me in person—I don’t know how to properly express my gratitude.
If it isn’t too late, I would love to invite you to dinner…*
“Jimena…”
“Captain, what does it say? Didn’t she ask you not to contact her anymore? What wind is blowing now…?”
Unable to suppress his curiosity, Wehl asked as Kylian finished reading, lost in thought.
“It’s a reply to when I asked to visit her while she was ill. She says it’s late, but… would I still come?”
“What? Ha! Unbelievable. She flaunts the crown prince’s proposal in a letter, and now she invites you to visit? She could be scheming something, Captain. Just ignore it.”
“Send a courier to the capital right away. Find out what’s happening with the prince and the lady’s betrothal. Something may have changed.”
Unlike angry Wehl, Kylian gave the order calmly.
“…Understood.”
“And to Lady Silvestre, send a reply. Tell her I accept her invitation.”
“What? Without first confirming the marriage matter, you’re agreeing to visit?”
“I must see her at least once. Whatever becomes of their marriage… once, at least…”
“…Yes, sir.”
Wehl held his tongue, trusting Kylian had his reasons.
“I’ll go prepare, then.”
“Wait, Wehl.”
“Yes, Captain?”
Kylian, staring suddenly at the mirror on the office wall, asked:
“Doesn’t my hair look… a bit too long?”
“…Your hair, sir?”
“Yes. It looks… untidy. Call for a barber on your way out.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And—”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Ahem… my outdoor clothes don’t seem quite suitable either. Bring the tailor as well…”
“…Y-yes, sir.”
Wehl hesitated, puzzled by his captain fussing over his appearance. Then a thought struck him.
“Captain… have you received word from Hermes?”
“Hermes?”
“Yes. About perhaps moving his parents from Anatole to a hospital in Carapedon, or maybe relocating…”
“No. That’s news to me. Who said that?”
“N-no one, sir. I only wondered if you had heard…”
“Not at all. Strange thing to bring up.”
“…Apologies, sir. I’ll take my leave.”
Outside the office, Wehl paused, trying to sort his thoughts.
‘Something’s off… even if he denies it, could he secretly have word from Hermes? Maybe he’s arranged to meet him after seeing the lady in Carapedon? If so, I’d better give them space. I’ll be there anyway, so I’ll find out.’
And so, Wehl busied himself—finding a courier for the capital, a barber, a tailor, and drafting Jimena’s reply.
“Haaah!”
“Taah!”
Clang! Clang! Clash! Shhhk!
Every time Jimena’s and Diego’s blades met on the platform, sparks flew—both from steel and from the murderous glint in their eyes.
Hah! She’s quick on her feet. I thought her knightly play with that ragtag ‘Moldy’ order was just child’s games, but she’s learned something after all. Still, it’s nothing! To think such antics could beat me, commander of the imperial guard!
“Taah!”
Clang! Clang!
Clatter!
Jimena’s sword flew from her hand under Diego’s heavy downward strike and stuck in the dirt outside the platform.
“Enough! First round, victory to Prince Diego!”
“Wooo!”
“His Highness wins!”
“Of course he does!”
The vice-commander of the guard, acting as referee, announced the result, and the crowd cheered, praising the prince.
“Haa… haa…”
“My lady, why do you keep retreating?!”
Watching anxiously, Lois handed her a replacement sword.
“Stay back, Lois. I know what I’m doing.”
Jimena whispered, feigning exhaustion.
“Are you all right, my lady? Perhaps I pressed too hard. Hahaha, forgive me!”
Flushed with his first win, Diego leaned his sword on his shoulder and laughed smugly.
“No, Your Highness. I’m fine.”
Jimena smiled casually as she took up her sword again.
The duel was best of three. Losing meant being disarmed, falling from the raised square platform, or yielding.
In the first round, Jimena had deliberately concealed her true skill, only defending to gauge Diego’s ability.
He’s trained long, but his fundamentals are sloppy. Unlike his reputation for a noble character, he’s impatient and narrow-sighted. And with so many watching, if I finish him too quickly, his wounded pride could cause trouble later. Even though I oppose my father openly, I can’t risk making the duchy a target of the crown’s wrath.
“My lady, what are you daydreaming about mid-duel? Already tired? Say the word if it’s too much. There’s no point dragging this out and hurting yourself when the result is clear.”
“No, Your Highness. I was merely marveling at your splendid skill. You truly look dashing today.”
She smiled brightly, flattering him.
“My lady, you finally see my true self. Usually, I hide such strength lest it intimidate, but for my future wife to notice the hidden charms of her husband-to-be… we must be destined! Hahaha!”
Diego slicked back his hair and laughed theatrically.
Ugh… greasy. Like swallowing spoonfuls of butter. I’d better finish this quickly and go home. Maybe Mari can make me a hearty stew.
“Hohoho, yes, Your Highness. Then please, show me your charm once more.”
“Heh, gladly.”
“Second round—begin!”
