CHAPTER 44……
“It’s fine. Once training starts, we’ll be seeing each other every day anyway.”
Eatriss replied calmly.
“Hehe, that’s true.”
The countess covered her mouth with her sleeve and laughed, as if finding the answer amusing.
“Then before the welcome banquet, let me first show you the room where you’ll be staying, Miss Eatriss. As for the full tour of the castle, it might be better to do that tomorrow with my son.”
At the mention of a banquet, the guards standing behind Eatriss stirred with excitement.
They had all been worn out from the long, grueling journey, and the empty, drafty castle hall they first encountered had dampened their spirits. But now, to hear there would be a welcome banquet they had thought impossible—it was impossible not to be pleased.
And it was all thanks to how Eatriss had handled the border duke.
The guards, who had witnessed the earlier events, were well aware of that.
They had assumed the young lady was nothing more than a fragile charge to protect, but they were wrong.
The gazes of the ducal guards, filled with admiration, gathered on her back.
“Shall we go, Miss Eatriss?”
The countess, noticing the murmuring guards behind Eatriss, smiled gently and took the lead.
“I’ve prepared a room close to the training grounds so it’ll be convenient for your training.”
The room was furnished with thick carpets and sturdy furniture. Though it lacked many decorations, the gray stone walls gave it a clean, orderly impression.
When she pulled back the thick curtains meant to block the cold drafts, the training grounds came into full view—a feature Eatriss appreciated.
“Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
The countess genuinely seemed pleased with Eatriss’s reaction.
As she was leaving the room, the countess turned back at the doorway.
“Oh, Sir Varud Fovear will tell you in detail later, but breakfast is served between six and seven in the morning.”
Eatriss paused at the familiar remark, then understood the implication and smiled with one corner of her lips raised.
“Six to seven in the morning. Understood.”
“Then rest for now, and I’ll see you again this evening at the banquet, Miss Eatriss.”
When the countess left and closed the door, Eatriss looked over at the bundle of luggage her attendant had moved to the side of the room.
Kathy had been so thorough in packing clothes and essentials that the trunk was nearly bursting.
—My lady, let’s show those northerners something! Even if it’s the domain that took you away, the people there deserve at least once in their life to witness your beauty!
In preparation for winter, Kathy had packed not just outerwear but even dresses, declaring it solemnly.
—But we’re going there to train. I doubt I’ll need dresses.
—You never know what might happen, do you?
Eatriss had thought there would be no need for dresses in the North, but it turned out Kathy was right.
Remembering Kathy’s serious dedication while packing made Eatriss chuckle.
Since things had turned out as Kathy predicted, she couldn’t let that effort go to waste.
Without Kathy’s touch it was a bit lacking, but Eatriss still managed to prepare an appearance suitable for a banquet.
Thanks to Kathy packing only clothes that were easy to put on and style by herself, she could manage without help.
The dress she wore was pure white silk, overlaid with a sheer layer of lace embroidered with silver thread. Her long silver hair, usually a nuisance, was braided into one strand and draped over one shoulder.
When she appeared, every gaze—guards and knights alike—turned toward her. The countess rose first from her seat to greet her warmly.
“Oh my, you look just like a snowflake that’s drifted down from the heavens! Come, sit here beside me.”
The countess, full of admiration, guided Eatriss to the seat beside her.
Once she sat, the food began to arrive—generous dishes, mostly various meat preparations.
Though similar at a glance, the meats varied in flavor and aroma depending on the cut and type.
The rich taste, as though the head chef of Valdain Castle had staked his pride on the meal, delighted the ducal guards immensely.
With apple wine, mead, and the North’s strong liquor served to match the dishes, the atmosphere grew even livelier.
Everyone seemed clearly in good spirits.
Everyone except one.
Are they all out of their minds?
Hector Valdain leaned against a cold stone pillar, glaring at the banquet hall.
These were nobles from the capital who had scorned the North for decades—nobles of one of the highest-ranking houses, the Bellanel Duchy.
And yet, instead of returning the cold treatment they’d endured, they were hosting them with a banquet fit for a harvest festival!
I should have known when Martha brought me these clothes.
Hector yanked off the suffocating cravat around his neck. The decorative pin holding it in place popped off and clattered across the stone floor, but he didn’t care.
The clothing—now rumpled and torn—was what Martha had brought him, saying the countess wanted him to wear it for dinner.
—Young master, why don’t you dress like this more often? You look so handsome and presentable!
—Only for today.
—Even if you’re good-looking, if you wear nothing but training clothes every day, it’s wasted, young master…
She had clicked her tongue in genuine regret.
But Hector’s mind was set.
—No. I’m only wearing this to block any nonsense about me being some fake noble.
Normally in training clothes or a simple tunic, he’d only dressed formally to cut off trouble before it started.
Yet it turned out the outfit had been for a welcome banquet—for the duke’s niece, no less.
Hector’s gaze snapped toward the guest of honor.
The small, pale girl was cutting the meat on her plate with a knife and bringing it to her mouth. Her hand holding the knife was as small and delicate as the cut of meat itself.
She looks like she can barely hold a dining knife. A knight?
How could such frail wrists ever wield a sword?
The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed.
Hector turned sharply toward the second culprit of this farce—Varud Fovear, his teacher, who had supposedly found him a sparring partner.
But the man, cheeks flushed to match his scar, was drunkenly arm-in-arm with the ducal guard captain.
Realizing who his teacher was clinging to only made Hector’s mood worse.
In the end, Hector left without even sitting down, stepping straight out into the cold night air.
He didn’t return until near dawn.
That was when he was summoned to help carry not only the Grey Wolf knights but also the guards to their rooms, as they were too drunk to get there themselves.
For men with such stamina to drink themselves into that state was rare—it meant they had truly enjoyed the company tonight.
“Just let them sleep on the stone floor. Why bother carrying them to bed?”
“Young master!”
With Martha urging him earnestly, Hector reluctantly got to work. He also felt uneasy about dumping the task on the wall guards, who were busy with heightened security for the guests.
“Teacher, wake up.”
Supporting the huge frame of Varud, Hector prodded him. He could have carried his teacher easily enough, but there were so many things he wanted to demand once the man sobered up—starting with why he’d brought such an unworthy sparring partner.
“Ah, seriously!”
Gritting his teeth, he resisted the urge to throw the unresponsive man down.
After several trips back and forth between the hall and the corridors, he noticed the banquet was nearly cleared away—only a few attendants remained, tidying up the leftover food and tablecloths.
Just as Hector was about to head to his room, someone from across the hall approached.
It looked like they had stayed behind to make sure the guards got to their rooms on their own.
They didn’t seem to have noticed him yet.
When Hector recognized who it was crossing the hall, his brow furrowed.
With every step, the silver embroidery on her dress caught the torchlight in an irritating sparkle.
Here to play tourist, are you?
He bit back the words.
He was about to turn away before she saw him, but then she spotted him leaning against the pillar.
“Ah, Sir—”
“I’m not a knight.”
Hector cut her off with a tilt of his head.
It was an instinctive, sharp reaction.
Technically, if he graduated at the top of Deltor, he would be knighted, so the title wasn’t incorrect.
In fact, trainees there often enjoyed being mistaken for knights.
But not tonight.
The girl didn’t seem fazed at all by his tone, remaining calm as ever.
While Hector glared, Eatriss finally realized who he was.
“I know who you are.”
She took a slow look at him—his tall build, red hair that stood out even in dim light, dark eyes, and the disheveled formal clothes.
An imposing appearance at first glance, but paired with a childish, prickly attitude.
He matched exactly what the documents from Mercedes had said about Hector Valdain.
As unpleasant as his demeanor was, he was still the sparring partner she needed for her entrance test. So she should at least introduce herself.
“Nice to meet you. My name is—”
“Don’t care about your name.”
Her hand, half-raised for a handshake, hovered awkwardly in the air.
“Not pleased to meet you, either.”
With that, Hector walked past her without looking back.
By the time she turned to look, he had already disappeared through the opposite door, the loud thump of boots on stone stairs suggesting he was in quite a temper.
It was almost surprising he hadn’t shoved her shoulder on the way past.
Well, as long as he’s good at swordsmanship.
She wasn’t here to make friends—she was here to secure a sparring partner.
“As long as he’s better than Hedon…”
That was the only condition.
Surely anyone could meet such an easy standard.
Muttering lightly to herself, Eatriss made her way back to her room for the night.
It was still a bitterly cold dawn.
Cold enough that even the rooster announcing the sunrise might collapse from hypothermia—but Hector was already out in the training yard.
If his teacher had been duped into selling his student out as the ducal house’s sparring partner, then Hector needed to keep his own wits sharp.
I can’t waste this last winter before the test!
It was the final winter before the exam. Sparring practice might have been ruined, but the test was in summer. If he trained alone until then, he’d be fine.
So he had to work even harder now. Today was no exception.
He was probably the first one to arrive. Even the knights who usually came early would be late this morning, nursing their hangovers.
