Chapter 133: Toward the Wine Glass (11) [133]
“Why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
Curtis looked at Saiph with a faintly amused smile, as if seeing something cute. Saiph, whose eyes had turned red while watching the bride and groom, flinched and waved his hand.
“Ah, no, it’s nothing.”
“You don’t even have a child to marry off… If someone saw you now, they’d think Camella was your daughter.”
Saiph tried to maintain a composed expression. Outwardly, he managed to make his face look somewhat convincing, but he couldn’t fool Curtis’s eyes. Eventually, Saiph let out a quiet sigh.
“I now understand why Lord Altesha refuses to take on apprentices.”
“Is that so?”
Altesha’s expression showed curiosity. Meanwhile, Saiph’s gaze shifted toward the girl standing with the young man.
The girl, her blue hair flowing freely and adorned with a ribbon, was smiling with a youthful face while conversing with the bride in front of her. At first, Saiph’s interest had only been piqued because she was so delicate yet wielded a unique type of sword—and she was someone Curtis Altesha cherished greatly.
But before long, as if it were natural, he found himself sparring with her once a day, imagining her future according to his own whims. He felt proud that he stood as a figure capable of nurturing her talent, and he felt disappointed—unjustly, perhaps—whenever she chose a path different from what he envisioned. These were emotions Saiph had never experienced before.
If he had a daughter, perhaps it would feel like this, he realized belatedly.
Sometimes he wished everything she did would go well; sometimes he felt frustrated at her stubbornness even though success and honor were practically guaranteed by his side. His emotions swung back and forth, restless.
But it was no longer merely a means to win Curtis’s favor. Though she might still believe it was.
“You must already be too late, then.”
“It’s entirely Lord Altesha’s fault…”
The middle-aged knight, still far from elderly, pressed his eyes to hold back tears, unable to hide his resentment. Curtis extended his arm and lightly patted Saiph’s back, who stood taller than him.
“When things don’t go as you want, that’s when it’s called ‘the heart.’”
“I could have done as I wished, though.”
Saiph muttered a few times, then turned his gaze back to the girl. Standing beside her, the young man maintained a calm and neutral expression, participating in the conversation. The handsome aide who had been nearby was nowhere to be seen.
“I heard Viscount—no, now Count—Seiran helped Isiel a lot…”
“Hmm, I heard he even helped her come to the capital.”
“He’s very successful now, yet it seems they still remain close.”
“Count Seiran isn’t the kind to change easily.”
Saiph nodded, listening intently to Curtis.
“Does Count Seiran have no intention of marriage?”
“He’s still young, isn’t he?”
“Those with ambition rarely leave methods or means unused. I hear he’s recently improved relations with Mirabo, the Viscount of the borderlands. That family also happens to have a daughter of marriageable age, and they danced together last time, if I’m not mistaken…”
“You’re interested in young men’s love lives now, are you? Really?”
“Lord Altesha! You know that’s not it.”
Saiph spoke quietly in a low voice.
Ilius Seiran. Those unaware might hear that he runs a small information business and assume he simply got lucky and rose in ranks, but those in the know understand the truth. The information network Seiran operates behind the scenes might even know the direction a single ant in the empire is crawling.
For someone like Seiran, there was no hesitation about where to place his alliances, which is a mistake many newly successful men make. It wasn’t naïve indifference in the palace—he had always known exactly whose side he would take.
That resolute standard, belief, and purposeful action signified one thing clearly: Ilius Seiran knew precisely what he wanted and pursued it relentlessly. In such cases, the morality of methods rarely matters. Arranged marriages were the simplest, most traditional, and least objectionable means.
Saiph wasn’t worried that a promising young man might enter a loveless marriage.
“If he intends to marry a daughter from a powerful family, wouldn’t it be better to keep distance from Isiel?”
Curtis glanced at Saiph calmly. The junior knight, who had been looking at him with unwavering eyes for quite some time, tended to pour his heart into the people he held close.
Even though he hadn’t formed a proper mentor-student relationship, he couldn’t help but care for the girl, worried she might be hurt by other men, or by Fernsiana’s schemes.
Considering what Saiph knew, his concern made sense. Ilius Seiran was a visibly rising noble, and the girl had come from a provincial area, with no family, relatives, or acquaintances apart from Curtis.
“That’s up to those two to handle themselves.”
“Lord Altesha! Aren’t you worried?”
“Count Seiran is a fine person, and Fe… Isiel is old enough to take care of herself.”
Saiph didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he kept quiet. Meanwhile, the girl and young man had already headed outside to the banquet hall.
“And we can’t say for certain that Count Seiran will pursue an arranged marriage.”
Saiph’s disbelief was apparent. Curtis let out a small laugh, clenched one hand, and lightly tapped Saiph’s shoulder.
“There are people in this world who don’t use marriage purely for profit.”
He was referring to Saiph Eriksen himself. Saiph, who had blinked at first, finally lowered his eyes and blushed like a boy.
“Is something bothering you again?”
Zeltrude tilted her champagne glass as she approached her younger sister. Ambrose had a fully blossomed smile on her face, but it turned sharp when she looked at Zeltrude.
Zeltrude sighed inwardly as she took a piece of sweet cake onto her plate. Ambrose had a nature that didn’t look back, whether for good or ill, and it applied even in moments like this.
Though attending a wedding she had no rank or close connection to, she was cheerful enough to offer congratulations. So the reason her smiling face hid a stubborn, displeased expression must be something else.
“Viscount Seiran… Ah, now Count. I can’t see him.”
“You really do like him, huh?”
“Ha, do you think I’m doing this for myself?”
Ambrose glared sharply at her.
“My father thinks all he has to do is petition His Majesty the Emperor, but the joint knight exercises delayed the audience. It might not work. Don’t think old stubborn men will change their minds.”
“…Embi.”
“But the Crown Prince might be different. And there’s a rumor that Ilius Seiran is now one of the Crown Prince’s closest aides!”
Her eyes sparkled with determination. Even if it took a few years, she would do whatever was necessary to achieve her goal.
“Ilius Seiran is attending this wedding for someone whose face I’ve never seen and whose name I’ve never heard.”
“Embi, you don’t need to push yourself this far for my matters. It’ll work out somehow…”
“No, this is my matter.”
Zeltrude fell silent, gazing into her younger sister’s intense blue eyes. She was reminded that she had never won against her since childhood.
“Just because I was born a few years later, because I was the second, doesn’t mean I’ll let guilt eat away at my life. Feeling indebted to Zelde is unbearable!”
“Not that you should—”
“Zelde didn’t intend this, but it happened anyway. Even if Zelde says it’s not my problem, it is. Sometimes, you have to bear the cost of something you never wanted,” Ambrose said haughtily, turning her head.
