TTDBK43

Chapter 43

At the rebel base in Koksan, Pumpkin was deep in worry.

“I never expected Baslui and Rondar to form an alliance.”

Martu mined gems in Koksan and sold them to Rondar. Many of the residents were miners or sailors.

Some also sold gems to Yasgo, though Yasgo had mines of its own, so the supply wasn’t abundant.

Then one day, Rondar’s lord died, and the sea route was cut off.

“Rob will retake Rondar soon.”

Baslui assumed the matter would be resolved quickly. But contrary to his expectations, it dragged on for a long time.

The mined gems continued to pile up. When the warehouse nearly burst, they had no choice but to sell to Yasgo.

“A B-grade gem that used to fetch 30,000 gold now only sells for 20,000?”

Prices had plummeted. Martu’s people waited anxiously for trade with Rondar to resume.

But the situation resolved differently than expected. Rob was defeated, and a country called Baberania was established.

The only relief was that they suggested reopening the sea route.

“Using that man as a knight, and a knight commander at that?”

Baslui was annoyed that Baberi had taken back the man he had abandoned. He rejected Baberania’s overtures.

Subordinates still working by Baslui’s side went to complain to retired Pumpkin.

Pumpkin sighed deeply as he recalled that time.

“I should have held back then.”

He had been imprisoned and unable to be at his wife’s deathbed. He had resolved never to intervene again.

“But I suppose I felt a little pleased that they had hope in me.”

Pumpkin went to the castle, intending to negotiate, and confronted Baslui.

“Are these wretches saying that starving for a day or two is more important than my pride?”

To risk starvation for his pride—he was furious and dumbfounded.

He argued vehemently, only to be imprisoned again. The next day, he was sentenced to death.

Perhaps if he had begged then, he might have been spared.

“This temper of mine,” Pumpkin muttered in regret.

“Thank you for not making me look at any more foolish faces!”

He braced himself to die, yet somehow survived. His comrades secretly freed him. He entered Koksan, hid, and gradually became a core figure of the rebellion.

Though he often spoke harshly to lords, he had never truly considered rebellion.

“How did it come to this? How did I let it get this far?”

Pumpkin lamented. Carrot took his father’s hand.

“If you had ignored those who would have starved, Father, I would have been disappointed.”

Carrot smiled faintly at her father’s dark expression.

“You’re the most righteous rebel in Martu,” she said.

Though meant to comfort, Pumpkin couldn’t smile. “Righteous” was too grandiose. A more fitting description would be “the angriest man in Martu.”

“Don’t worry. We hold the gems, so the advantage is on our side.”

Carrot spoke optimistically. Pumpkin shook his head. What good were the gems without a magician to use them?

“Baslui will return from Yasgo soon, and Baberania will strike us.”

“There’s hope. I’ll marry King Menmi.”

Pumpkin’s furrowed brows of worry widened.

“The queen has died. The king likes young women, so I might have a chance…”

“What are you saying?”

Pumpkin’s face stiffened. King Menmi, nearly seventy, had a disturbing preference for young women.

It would have been better if he cherished them—but he was a monster who liked to abuse young wives.

The late queen had surely been his eleventh wife.

“That’s practically a death sentence.”

“If Father can live, I’ll do it willingly.”

Carrot’s eyes shone with determination. Pumpkin admired her sacrifice but also felt the weight of sorrow.

“No. It breaks my heart. I’d rather die than send you to Menmi.”

“Yes. You don’t have to do that.”

Pumpkin held Carrot’s hand, refusing, when someone interrupted.

It was Onion, the third child studying in Lancaster.

“When did you arrive?”

Carrot looked surprised. Onion glanced at his sister, then back to his father.

“I heard I had become the child of a criminal. I was too ashamed to face Sir Blake.”

His face was full of anger.

Pumpkin’s smile stiffened, unsure whether to greet his son.

“Child of a criminal?”

Carrot, stepping in for her speechless father, scolded Onion.

“You condemned Father for speaking the truth. Were we supposed to accept that quietly?”

Onion snorted.

“Speaking the truth? Father simply has a stubborn illness—he cannot stand when things don’t go his way.”

“He insists because it’s right.”

“If it’s really right, why did Mother suffer and die?”

Pumpkin said nothing, watching his son and daughter argue. Each of Onion’s words pierced his heart.

“Onion, did you come here just to fight? If so, go back to Lancaster immediately.”

Carrot, angry, pushed her brother’s shoulder.

“Enough, you two.”

Pumpkin intervened. As the three tangled, a rebel comrade rushed in.

“Pumpkin!”

He urgently informed Pumpkin that a visitor had arrived.

“The King of Baberania is here.”

Why was she, Baslui’s ally, here?

Pumpkin was puzzled but quickly went to greet her. The siblings stopped fighting and followed their father.

At the mine’s entrance, among the crowd, stood a strikingly beautiful woman.

“Why are there so many mosquitoes here!”

She swatted at her arms in annoyance. Frustrated at failing to catch any, she let out a disappointed sound.

“You’re hopeless at catching mosquitoes.”

A silver-haired man beside her snickered. The woman glared, then spotted Pumpkin and his group.

She tilted her head while pointing, trying to identify someone.

“I asked for the man who sent the letter to Medo—Pumpkin. Which one is Pumpkin?”

The crowd made it hard to tell. Frowning, she pointed at another.

“Are you Pumpkin?”

She studied the man’s face closely.

“Now that I look, he even looks a bit like a pumpkin. Maybe not?”

She asked the silver-haired man. He glanced at the pointed man coldly and said:

“That’s not him.”

Pumpkin guessed the short blonde woman was Baberi Rangs. But the silver-haired man’s tone wasn’t fit for a king—it was casual, like speaking to a friend.

Before further confusion arose, Pumpkin stepped forward.

“I am Pumpkin.”

Baberi pointed at him.

“Oh! Solid like a pumpkin!”

Baberi laughed loudly. Medo looked at her with a slightly embarrassed expression, then approached Pumpkin.

“Long time no see. You look healthier than I feared.”

Medo extended his hand. Pumpkin was about to shake it when Carrot interrupted.

“Sir Medo! Did you come to help us?”

Carrot’s eyes sparkled with hope. Medo awkwardly smiled, embarrassed by the reaction.

“Yes. I came to help you. I am the King of Baberania!”

Baberi pointed at herself with her thumb.

“Her?”

Could this really be Baberi Rangs, rumored to be the King of Baberania and a Dragon Rider?

Pumpkin condensed his thoughts into a single phrase. Medo understood and nodded.

“This is Her Majesty Baberi Rangs.”

Medo formally introduced her. Baberi crossed her arms, raising her chin.

“I am the sovereign.”

Pumpkin had guessed correctly—she was Baberi Rangs, claiming to be the King of Baberania.

He observed her stance, expression, and tone. The first impression: she felt light, frivolous.

“The sovereign has come to save those of you who were near death,” Baberi said with a sly smile.

No matter the kingdom, those in the highest positions usually carried weight, unlike mere lords.

“Grateful? Be more grateful. More than now.”

Yet she was as lighthearted as a child playing king.

“Stop making a scene and stand still, Your Majesty,” Kur scolded.

Pumpkin glanced at Medo. He seemed embarrassed but clapped along. Other knights followed, clapping, though one boy looked sullen.

“…?”

Pumpkin noticed something odd: a knight was carrying a woman.

She could have been a wounded civilian, but Pumpkin felt uneasy. Her dress didn’t resemble a knight’s or soldier’s attire.

“Who is that?”

Pumpkin asked Medo, pointing. Medo smiled awkwardly.

“Rest assured, she’s not a village girl we kidnapped.”

Pumpkin glared; if they had committed such insolence, he would have shouted.

“Of course not.”

Medo laughed lightly, though his smile felt stiff.

“She’s not a village girl.”

Baberi spoke. Medo tensed, looking at her.

“Lavender.”

Baberi asked if he knew who Lavender was. Of course, he did. He had worked at Martu Castle for thirty years; how could he not know the lord’s daughter?

“Why is Miss Lavender here?”

That was the problem. Why was Baslui’s daughter here—and unconscious?

They hadn’t kidnapped her, had they?

Pumpkin anxiously looked at Medo.

“Sir Medo?”

Medo desperately avoided his gaze.

“Apparently, she doesn’t get along well with her father,” Baberi said cheekily.

“She said she wanted to come here with me, and I brought her—but she must have been tired and fell asleep.”

Of course, it wasn’t true. But Baberi spoke smoothly, without hesitation.

“If there were a lying contest in the world, Your Majesty would win first place.”

Kur whispered, and Baberi nudged him quietly with her elbow.

At that moment, Lavender opened her eyes. Realizing she was carried by a stranger, she screamed.