Chapter 27
Baveri twisted her body, quickly pulling away from him as their bodies brushed together.
“Hey, you…!”
Kur tilted his head, puzzled by her strange reaction, and looked down at Baveri.
When their eyes met, time seemed to slow for a moment.
Baveri’s lips slowly parted — and then, suddenly, she slapped Kur’s arm.
“You stink!”
Her loud voice echoed as she shouted that he smelled like rotting food waste in midsummer.
“Do I smell like a rag? What are you talking about?”
Baveri, backing away from him, noticed her hand trembling.
It was the hand that had struck Kur.
“Damn it!”
Realizing something was wrong, pain shot through her hand so sharply that she thought something might have broken.
She knew hitting him only hurt herself — but the stench had been so strong that she’d done it instinctively.
“No wonder the room still reeked even after I made you clean it!”
Baveri growled, clutching her sore hand.
“What smell are you talking about?”
Kur sniffed the rag in his hand.
It did smell bad — really bad — but he wasn’t about to let Baveri have the last word.
“I don’t smell anything that strange. Maybe your nose is broken?”
As he leaned in for her to smell for herself, Baveri let out a shriek.
“Keep that stinking thing away from me! Get lost!”
Her words — “get lost” — made Kur’s eyes widen.
He froze in place, while Baveri had already fled to the farthest corner of the room, where he hadn’t cleaned yet.
Kur’s hand, still holding the rag, clenched into a trembling fist — the tremor of anger and humiliation.
“Um…”
Medo, who had been holding his breath while watching the scene, cautiously spoke up.
Kur immediately spun around and glared at him and Sharon.
“Hhk…”
Memories of the hell he’d experienced in Madni suddenly flashed in Medo’s mind, freezing him in terror.
It felt like every organ in his body turned to ice.
Kur threw one last glare at Baveri — who was still hiding in the corner — before slamming the door behind him as he stormed out.
Some time later, Kur returned.
Steam rose from his body as if he had bathed in hot water; his hair was damp.
Sharon could sense the hurt pride behind his stern expression.
“So I told you to clean, and instead you skipped out to take a bath?”
Baveri, on the other hand, hadn’t noticed anything.
She was just furious that she’d had to stay in a room filled with that horrible stench while he was off bathing.
Kur shook his wet hair and shot her a sharp look.
“Some picky woman complained I smelled bad. As if she’s that clean herself.”
His sarcastic remark made Baveri march toward him — though she kept her distance.
“I washed three times. There’s no smell now. Go on, smell for yourself.”
Realizing she was actually checking, Kur frowned slightly, displeased to be doubted.
Apparently, he wasn’t lying.
Even when she got close, that rotting garbage smell was gone.
“Smells like flowers.”
“I used rose-scented soap.”
“What? Why do you get to use the good soap?”
“You complained I stank. Now you’re complaining I smell too good?”
Kur scowled irritably.
Baveri, determined to verify, grabbed his shoulder and leaned in close, pressing her nose to his neck.
The faint scent of roses — not too strong, not too light — drifted from him.
“My soap doesn’t smell like this.”
“……”
“Why do you get the fancy kind?”
Baveri sniffed again, questioning him.
Kur, however, stayed rigid and silent.
They were close enough that she could feel his breath —
Except… she didn’t.
Was he holding his breath?
Baveri frowned, studying his face carefully.
He stood frozen, eyes open, completely motionless — as if he’d fainted standing up.
“If you’ve got something nice, don’t be stingy and keep it to yourself,”
she warned, straightening her posture again.
Kur averted his gaze.
“Did you hear me?”
“……”
“Did you bathe in boiling water or something? Why’s there steam coming off you?”
Baveri frowned at the heat rising from his hair.
Kur bit his lip, glared at her once more, and walked out.
“What’s his problem?”
She muttered, watching him leave.
Sharon, however, covered her lips with her finger, her eyes widening with a quiet realization as she followed Kur with her gaze.
* * *
Sharon and Medo’s wedding finally took place.
Following Baveri’s command to make it grand, they’d prepared plenty of food, drink, and guests.
“It’s smaller than the victory banquet we held in Tatara.”
Baveri didn’t look satisfied.
Londar simply didn’t have the population or supplies that Tatara had — it couldn’t be helped.
“Well, you can’t expect perfection the first time.”
Despite her earlier complaints, a smile soon tugged at her lips.
Though the scale was smaller than Tatara’s banquet, this one felt much more comfortable.
She quickly realized why.
“Waaah!”
The crowd cheered as Medo spun Sharon around in his arms on the dance floor.
The difference was clear — the people here were different.
In Tatara, she had been celebrated as a hero, yes —
but that banquet had been filled with nobles who’d done nothing of worth.
Even Prince Dran, who’d been knocked out by a dragon’s tail, had been there.
“I did enjoy watching all those nobles grovel for my favor… but this isn’t bad either.”
It was a pleasant sight.
She even thought it might be nice if there were more people — more citizens to fill the hall.
“Yes. I definitely need more people.”
Raising her voice over the laughter and chatter, she spoke to Kur.
“I’ll bring in more subjects from other places. Good plan, right?”
Kur gave her a disapproving look.
Strangely, even though he said nothing, she could almost hear his voice saying, ‘Do you even hear yourself?’
“Those people here now — they came with Sharon,” she explained.
“So if we just… bring in more people like that—?”
She tried to persuade him that it would quickly grow her numbers.
“So what, you’re going to kidnap some lord and make him your vassal?”
“I wasn’t thinking of that… but it’s not a bad idea.”
“Not bad, huh.”
Kur snorted. “You really think someone like that would ever be loyal?”
“If you were kidnapped, forced to swear loyalty, would you?”
“Nope.”
“See?”
Kur gave her a smug nod that Baveri found irritating — though she couldn’t argue back.
If it were her, she wouldn’t swear loyalty either. She’d plot revenge.
“I told you back when we talked about the ‘breath-holding guy.’
Unless you make them want to be loyal, it’ll never work.”
“‘Breath-holding guy’?”
When she asked who that was, Kur gestured toward Medo, who was currently kissing Sharon’s cheek.
“That guy. Every time he sees me, he stops breathing — then looks around to see if it’s safe to breathe again.”
“Are you two on good terms or bad?”
“Bad.”
He’d never clarified his relationship with Sharon, but this time, the answer came instantly.
“You don’t have to be best friends, but don’t fight,” she said.
“Because then I’ll be the one annoyed.”
Kur crossed his arms and raised a brow but said nothing, so Baveri repeated her warning.
“Medo’s too scared of you to start anything. Just don’t cause trouble yourself.”
“I already don’t,” Kur replied coolly. “I don’t eat or crush your precious subjects.”
He tilted his chin proudly.
“Good for you,” Baveri said dryly. Kur shot her a glare.
“I even clean your room.”
“That’s your job.”
She replied without hesitation.
She didn’t have to make him do it — she just did.
Because watching him grumble and scowl with a rag in his hand was hilarious.
“Anyway,” she mused, “you’re saying I need to make people want to serve me — like Medo, who’s loyal because I saved his life.”
Maybe there’s someone out there whose life is in danger… preferably a lord, she thought to herself.
Meanwhile, a little away from the royal table, Gradi was drinking one mug after another.
“No matter how I think about it, it still doesn’t make sense to me.”
Half-drunk, he slammed his mug down.
Sabo quietly asked why.
Gradi answered in an agitated tone.
“We’re mercenaries! How did we end up like this?”
Sabo exchanged glances with the others sitting nearby.
Gradi banged his mug on the table again and again, spilling beer over the surface.
“Why the hell are we playing knights all of a sudden?”
When he was captured by Rob, Gradi had been unconscious.
By the time he woke up, their mercenary band had already become a knightly order.
He’d never seen what Baveri had done on the dragon.
“You — could you ever serve under someone like this?”
Sabo glanced toward Medo to make sure he wasn’t listening.
Thankfully, Medo was busy talking to others.
“You’re not the kind of man who could live that way!”
“Don’t say that near the captain,” Sabo warned, trying to take his drink away.
Gradi shoved him off roughly, splashing beer on the floor.
“Why can’t anyone think about our future? We’ve only bought ourselves a bit more time before death!”
“Gradi.”
“What’s the difference between being pawns in a rebellion and being exploited by some lord in Londar?”
“You’re drunk.”
“Let’s shut him up before he gets us all in trouble,” muttered another knight, joining Sabo to restrain him.
But Gradi wouldn’t stop.
“We became mercenaries for freedom! Not to become some ridiculous excuse for knights!”
He jumped to his feet, shouting.
Sabo tried to calm him down gently.
“Freedom’s nice, sure. But to be honest, it’s not all that great.”
When you’re alone, you’re free — but also an easy target.
Having a banner, a place to belong, could be a shield.
Sabo had also been someone exiled and hunted by Baslui — like Medo.
“When the captain said he’d be our shield, I was grateful.
But think about it, Gradi. The captain needs a shield too.”
“You only say that because you’re a coward. I don’t need that!”
Then someone placed a firm hand on Gradi’s shoulder.
He started to shove it away — until he realized it was Medo.
He froze.
“Gradi. The Queen is here.”
Only then did Gradi realize everyone was watching him.
Even Baveri — who was eyeing him nervously — had gone silent.
Startled, Gradi made the worst mistake of his life.
