Chapter 33
The noble reputation of Prince Rochefort, which Mia had only ever heard of through high society gossip, turned out to be rather ineffective—at least in matters of romance.
‘He does have great character as a commander, though.’
That much only made him a good person, not necessarily a good husband. Still, in the Lux court, overflowing as it was with scoundrels of trashy character, someone like him could indeed stand out just by not being terrible.
Now Mia could somewhat understand why so many noblewomen longed to brush even just the hem of his cloak whenever he returned to the capital from his long campaigns.
As someone who had never once considered herself a “marriageable noble lady,” let alone ever thought of marrying a political enemy’s second son, Mia found the sentiment unfamiliar.
“It’s fine, Étienne.”
Mia gently pushed his hand away. To be honest, even that gesture was more kindness than a bothersome man like him deserved—though one could chalk it up as repayment for the amusing spectacle he had just provided. Or perhaps, as the minimal courtesy due a superior officer.
Either excuse sufficed; there was no need to dwell on it further.
“It’s not a serious wound. It’s nothing compared to what you’ve probably endured on the battlefield. So there’s no need to overreact like this.”
It wasn’t as if he didn’t know that—so his reaction, then, must have been entirely performative. Yet there was no need for Étienne to put on a show like that for her.
It was Mia who had returned to this world with the mission of protecting him. It wouldn’t do for the ignorant one to be the one worrying over her safety. Light flared casually from her fingertips. A deeper red spilled over the already flushed mark.
“Wait, Mia!”
Étienne quickly reached out to stop her—trying to prevent her from acting on something.
Mia lightly stepped back out of his reach. Even that slight show of refusal made the legion commander freeze, not daring to move.
‘If he really meant it, he could just give an order. The man’s hopelessly soft.’
Mia thought to herself. It wasn’t exactly a compliment.
But the fault didn’t lie with Étienne. It was her own original sin.
When asked what a soft-hearted man could do on the battlefield other than sacrifice himself in place of his subordinates, all Mia could offer was a feeble excuse: This time, it’ll be different.
“As you saw, I’ve already treated it. And Étienne, I appreciate your concern, but from now on, I’d prefer it if you didn’t meddle quite so much.”
Ah, that expression again. Mia didn’t want to put a name to the emotion clouding his face. There was no plausible reason for him to feel such a thing toward her. Even if the emotion existed, it had no right to.
“It’s not about the treatment, Mia.”
His voice, as always, was calm and steady as it pierced her sudden confusion.
“Then what is it?”
Mia prompted him, demanding an explanation.
After a short breath, he finally spoke.
“Mia, I know that you often treat your own body like a disposable tool.”
“You make it sound like that’s some grand tragedy.”
“Just now, even. You’ve always fallen ill after using a little divine power—how could you even think of treating a wound on your own?”
A silence followed, as if inviting him to continue. That silence was more terrifying than any sharp response.
Still, it wasn’t something he could ignore.
“As a commander, it’s part of my duty to monitor the condition of my officers. If you won’t take care of yourself…”
“If you’re a commander.”
Mia cut in coldly.
“If you’re a commander, shouldn’t you know better?”
“What do you mean…?”
“Tell me, which soldier on the battlefield doesn’t treat their body like a disposable asset? Do you think we can win a war by coddling ourselves? You know better than anyone that the more a commander avoids combat, the more their troops will suffer.”
“Mia…”
“Conversely, the more I get hurt, the safer you are.”
“……”
“Then you should be happy, Étienne. Why do you look like that?”
If only she had acted like an inexperienced noble lady ignorant of war, or even a rookie soldier who couldn’t accept her superior’s decisions, Étienne might have had something to say.
But Mia hadn’t said a single wrong word. In fact, she had pointed out a fundamental truth that every commander eventually had to grapple with:
A general who treats their soldiers like consumables is unfit to lead. But a war without sacrifice simply doesn’t exist…
Even so, no soldier is ever truly fine with being treated as expendable.
And yet Mia looked utterly unfazed. As if it really didn’t matter how he treated her. As if she believed she deserved to be treated that way…
It was all wrong.
His thoughts were broken off by a gentle touch that guided him to sit. Étienne could only stare blankly at her.
‘Does she… want to say something?’
Mia stifled a growing discomfort in her chest. She didn’t know why the commander was so unreasonably worried about her, but if she took away even his right to speak, she had a feeling she wouldn’t like what came next.
Eventually, Étienne spoke. His dry lips cracked slightly as he did.
“Did you go out just to end up like this?”
It was more of an accusation than a question. Even the concern laced within his words felt suffocating. Mia looked away and gave a faint smile.
“Of course not. There was a purpose. You’ll understand soon enough.”
He tried to protest—When exactly is ‘soon’? What are you trying to make me understand?—but Mia ignored him.
Fortunately for Étienne, “soon” came quickly. While Mia turned away from him, a loud knocking echoed at the door.
‘At that rate, even the downstairs neighbors will hear.’
Mia murmured dryly. The startled commander didn’t even move into her line of sight.
“Hello? Are you there?!”
Even before the door opened, a young boy’s urgent voice seeped through the cracks.
“A gentleman is looking for you both! He says he wants to buy every horse from Grenier and will pay three times the market price!”
Mia exchanged a glance with Étienne. Though no words were spoken, her arrogant gaze conveyed everything she meant to say.
See?
She mouthed the words.
Étienne slowly nodded. He didn’t know what trick she had pulled or what was unfolding exactly, but one thing was clear: Mia was playing a much larger game.
“So what will you do now?”
He asked with a mock-serious tone. But his words were, in truth, an earnest declaration—I’ll do whatever you say. It wasn’t befitting of his position, but he knew she understood the intent behind it.
Yet Mia casually turned her head toward the door and said,
“Tell him we’re not interested!”
No negotiation. No meeting with the errand boy. Just a flat rejection. There was no clearer way to make her intentions known.
Étienne didn’t even wait for a direct order before pulling his attention away from the door. It was not the behavior of the commander of the Empire’s First Holy Legion. More like a dog wagging its tail for its master’s favor.
Still, Étienne trusted Mia’s judgment. He could even guess what she was aiming for.
Raven wasn’t some small town—of course there were places to buy horses. Just from the supply reports he had received from the Merchant’s Guild before the war, there were several stores with decent stock.
If someone was seeking out Grenier’s horses specifically, it could only mean two things:
Either they had already bought up all the other good horses in town—or they needed a large number of them. Specifically, horses that could haul heavy loads over long distances without tiring.
And if someone of high status suddenly wanted to buy up such horses at three times the price, the reason was obvious.
They’ve realized war is imminent.
With all his battlefield experience, Étienne knew well how the scent of war could shake merchants—and national economies. He had no reason to oppose Mia’s plan.
