Chapter 29
Baveri roamed around Rondar Castle with a notebook and quill pen in hand.
Following behind her was Medo.
Kur had tagged along at first but quickly grew bored and went back.
“Hey, you. Come here.”
Baveri called over a passing soldier. The soldier came running at the king’s summons.
“What’s your name?”
The startled soldier stammered out his name. He was so nervous he tripped over his own words, but Baveri didn’t care—she simply handed him the notebook.
“Write your name down there.”
He did as he was told and noticed that several other names were already written on the page.
“Done?”
When he nodded, Baveri held out her hand for the notebook. The soldier quickly returned it with the quill.
“Are you married?”
The soldier blinked in confusion and shook his head. Baveri marked an X beside his name.
“Seeing anyone?”
“No, ma’am.”
Baveri lifted her eyes to study his face again. The soldier felt oddly as though he were being scolded and stiffened under her gaze.
But she only waved him off without another word.
“There are more unmarried guys than I thought,” she murmured, flipping through the pages and scanning all the X marks.
“The knights’ order looks like a total disaster—except for you, I think everyone’s single. What’s going on with that?”
She glanced at Medo as she asked. Medo answered honestly: apart from him, none were married.
“Mercenaries don’t marry easily,” he explained. “You never know when you’ll die.”
Baveri clicked her tongue in disappointment, then shot him a glare.
“I think it’s partly your fault.”
“Mine?”
“Even Wid turned down the woman I tried to introduce him to.”
Wid had changed his name and the person he admired, but he still wanted to emulate Medo in many ways.
“He said he wanted to marry for love—just like someone did.”
Medo realized why she was blaming him and gave a weak “Ah.”
“If you had gotten married sooner, the others might’ve followed your lead. By now, they’d all be married.”
Would they, really? Medo doubted it, but he nodded vigorously to look agreeable.
“You all need to have lots of children. The more kids you have, the more subjects I have.”
But there weren’t any. Baveri frowned—she’d need a plan for this.
“There are a few with children,” Medo said cautiously.
“Oh, so they don’t want to marry because they might die, but they still have kids? How does that work?”
Baveri couldn’t hide her confusion.
“Well, marriage is a matter of will… but sometimes children happen without will involved,” he said awkwardly.
He forced a small smile and quickly changed the subject.
“More importantly, Your Majesty, there’s something pressing.”
“What?”
“The tax rate. You need to decide how much to collect.”
Baveri blinked slowly, like someone who had never once considered that such decisions might fall to her.
“Just take a little.”
After all, the late Lord of Rondar had overtaxed his people. Baveri kept it simple.
“How little is ‘a little,’ exactly?”
“How much was the greedy lord charging?”
“Five hundred gold.”
“Then make it fifty gold. Everyone should be able to afford that.”
Medo’s jaw dropped. His lips twitched as he tried to find a diplomatic way to respond.
“That’s… a very bold and merciful idea, Your Majesty.”
“Right? Problem solved.”
“Yes, but… it’s so bold that it could, perhaps, create difficulties… certain risks, such as…”
If taxes were too low, the kingdom’s finances would suffer. He wanted to ask her to reconsider, but couldn’t bring himself to say it directly.
“What are you mumbling about?”
Baveri frowned, unable to follow his cautious circling. Her command—“Summarize it in one sentence”—made Medo’s heart pound.
He knew what he should say, but contradicting the ruler’s decision could be dangerous.
“Her Majesty isn’t that narrow-minded,”
he could almost hear Sharon whispering in his head.
But then Kur’s voice echoed, too:
“She’s got a heart smaller than the bean you got hit with once.”
Medo hesitated, then finally squeezed his eyes shut and blurted it out:
“It’s too low!”
Even after saying it, he swallowed hard, feeling his courage shrink to the size of a bean.
“Yeah?”
She didn’t sound angry. Medo exhaled in relief.
“As it stands, our finances are already strained.”
“How strained?”
“Well… we can’t really tell.”
The man who’d bullied Sharon for free meals had actually been the one managing Rondar’s ledgers. When Rob arrived with the allied army, that man had been the first to surrender—then was caught in Kur’s breath attack and turned to ash.
“Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—there’s no one left to keep the books.”
“Don’t you have anyone capable under your command?”
“Someone good with numbers, you mean?”
When she asked, Medo groaned. He trusted his comrades, but not with money.
“They live by the motto: spend today’s money before you die tomorrow. A few even end up in debt…”
Even those who could count well weren’t reliable with ledgers. He didn’t say the rest, but Baveri understood and nodded.
“So they’re idiots. What about Sharon?”
“She’s already overworked managing the household staff.”
Medo looked pitiful, begging her not to work his wife to death.
“What about Kur, then?”
“If you give him money, he’ll just spend it all on magic stones.”
Baveri tucked the notebook under her arm and fell into thought. There was no one to assign the job to.
“As commander of the subjugation force, didn’t you meet anyone competent?”
At his question, Baveri’s eyes rolled in slow circles as she searched her memory.
Someone smart…
“…There was one person.”
When she’d first been ordered to slay the evil dragon, Baveri had felt no motivation at all.
But still, she went to Tatara willingly—
“Your teacher is waiting for you,”
Sir Tobias, the captain of the royal guard, had told her.
Having lost Arctinus not long before, she was heartsick and desperate to see the old knight again.
“I came all this way to see you, and this is what I find?”
Standing before one of many graves in an open field, she murmured emptily.
“No dog to feed jerky to, no old man bragging about how well he taught me.”
She lay down in front of the old knight’s grave. It was the first time she’d ever worn fine clothes, for her royal audience, but she didn’t care if they got filthy.
Whether a dragon came and turned the place into a sea of fire—she wouldn’t move.
As she resolved to stay, a stranger approached.
“Excuse me, miss?”
Baveri didn’t answer. A moment later, water splashed onto her face.
“I thought a corpse was crawling out of a grave!”
Baveri opened her eyes to see Mark Scavi sighing in relief.
Enraged, she grabbed him by the collar.
“What the hell did you throw water for?”
“I—I’m sorry! My name is Mark Scavi, second son of Viscount Scavi.”
He apologized frantically. His shabby clothes made him look nothing like a noble.
“Get lost.”
Baveri dropped him and sat back down before the grave.
Mark lingered awkwardly, then stopped before another grave nearby. He pulled a pouch from his coat and scattered its contents—flower seeds.
In the Almeria continent, people honored the dead by sowing flower seeds on their graves.
“So he is a noble. Even has seeds.”
Baveri looked at him with envy. Mark noticed and turned toward her.
“If you’d like, I can share some,” he offered, approaching and handing her the whole pouch.
“In return… could I at least know your name? It feels like fate that we met here.”
It was the first time in her life a man had shown her interest. She felt neither pleased nor annoyed—just… strange.
A rebel, being courted? How bold of him, even if he didn’t know.
“You must be really idle, flirting with a woman you met in a graveyard.”
She sneered, calling him a scoundrel. His face flushed red.
“I’m not usually like this—it’s just, you’re so beautiful…”
“Keep that up and you’ll end up like him.”
She pointed to the old knight’s grave. Mark faltered, then smiled faintly.
“I won’t live long anyway, so that’s fine.”
He gave a bitter smile, then quickly straightened and added, “I’m leaving on a subjugation mission in two days.”
“I heard the expedition doesn’t depart for another month,” Baveri said, sprinkling the seeds he’d given her.
“That’s the real expedition led by Prince Dran. I wanted to join that glorious army, but… wasn’t permitted.”
Baveri’s lips twisted. Tobias’s proud face flashed through her mind—he had told her to see it as an honor to receive the order.
“You seriously think dying in that so-called glorious army would be an honor?”
She mocked him, assuming he was the same type as Tobias. But Mark laughed and waved his hands.
“The official expedition’s survival rate is higher. I’m just choosing the lesser evil.”
At least he wasn’t insane like the royal knights, Baveri thought. He didn’t even want to go.
“Then how about I save you?”
Mark tilted his head, confused by her words.
“I was going to let everyone die together—but I changed my mind.”
It didn’t sound like a joke. Mark sensed something off and grew tense.
“I’ll spare you. Consider it payment for the flower seeds.”
Baveri lifted her chin arrogantly.
“So I brought him into the main expedition—and he survived. Smart guy, right?”
Medo looked troubled after hearing the story. He couldn’t see what part of that tale showed intelligence.
“He saved his life with just a handful of flower seeds! That’s some talent.”
Didn’t Your Majesty just spare him on a whim? He didn’t even know who you were…
Medo thought it but wisely didn’t say it aloud.
“Mark Scavi—do you mean the current Viscount Scavi?”
“He’s a viscount now?”
They had said survivors might be promoted to viscount rank.
Baveri sounded genuinely impressed.
“I know he’s connected to you, but do you think he’d come here?” Medo asked cautiously.
“That depends on how good a letter we send to lure him.”
She began dictating. Medo wrote as she spoke:
[Hey. Long time no see. You owe me your life twice—once at the graveyard, once in Madni.
I’m giving you a chance to repay your debt.
Let’s commit treason together.]
“And make sure to emphasize he could be fourth in rank right now. Add some excitement to it.”
“‘If you come to Rondar now, you’ll be fourth…’”
As he wrote, Medo suddenly frowned. Something about this felt very wrong.
