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Chapter 10
Just as their light banter eased some of the awkward tension between them, the carriage arrived at its destination and came to a stop.
“Welcome, Sir Knight! Employment rate No. 1! Satisfaction rate No. 1! The one and only Knights’ Union on the entire continent—Melbourne Southern Branch! Existing members to the building on the left, new members to the building on the right!”
Well, since it was the only one of its kind, of course it would be ranked first. It was the kind of advertisement that could easily hook you if you weren’t paying attention. Then again, broadly speaking, the Knights’ Union was a type of interest group, so strategic marketing was only natural. Standing at the entrance, which he had expected to be solemn and austere, Yulian felt his tension ease as he realized that everywhere people lived, things were much the same.
Sol, who had received the rather theatrical greeting, called the gatekeeper over to the carriage window and spoke quietly.
“I’d like to meet the branch chief.”
“Do you have an appointment? Please present your identification.”
“I didn’t make one beforehand, but—”
The gatekeepers exchanged troubled looks and asked for his credentials. In that brief exchange of glances, Yulian sensed concern—and a hint of fear—about dealing with a difficult person. Even in the countryside, a branch chief was a high-ranking official who commanded around three hundred subordinates. Busy by nature, and not someone who could be met just because anyone showed up asking.
However, when Sol lifted his robe instead of presenting an ID and revealed his face, the gatekeepers froze instantly. He hadn’t even removed the robe completely because of the scar on his forehead, but a single glimpse was enough for them to recognize him.
“T-The Knight of Flash!”
Who was Bartholomew, the “Knight of Flash”? The face of the Knights’ Union, its idol, and one of the Three Union Lords. If the branch chief was a superior difficult to approach, Bartholomew Edgar was a cloud-dwelling existence one might see only once in a lifetime.
“H-His Excellency the Union Lord…!”
“Shh. Handle this quietly.”
“I swear on my life no one will find out! I’ll guide you along a less crowded path! Please, come in—though it’s humble!”
At his words, the gatekeeper nodded eagerly, his flushed face twitching with excitement. Even Sol’s small gesture of brushing his fallen hair back drew little “Eek! Eek!” sounds, as if this were a fan meeting. Half admiration, half near-madness shone in those eyes—enough to make anyone uncomfortable—but Sol ignored it as if he were used to such things.
“Lady Yuli, would you please wait here for a moment? I’d like to go in first and speak with the branch chief.”
“Of course. Do whatever’s convenient.”
“You gentlemen, wait here as well.”
Sol wrapped his robe tightly again and stepped down from the carriage. Watching him stride off with his long legs, the gatekeeper looked positively overwhelmed with emotion. Indeed—when you were a union lord, even learning to walk earned applause. It was astonishing.
To be honest, on the way here Yulian had doubted that even if Sol was a union lord, his influence would reach a rural branch like this. But seeing the gatekeeper’s lovestruck face, she realized again just how extraordinary he had become.
“Since the Union Lord went personally, things will be settled quickly. There’s nothing to worry about now. Within the Union, no one can harm you, my lady.”
“Ah—thank you. I’m sorry you’re all going through trouble because of me.”
“Not at all. We’re Sir Edgar’s direct unit. His business is our business.”
Delcian replied proudly as he approached the carriage window. Regardless of her less-than-pleasant first impression, he was a diligent knight. With the refined looks of a noble young master, he was also one of Sol’s three adjutants. Aside from occasionally slipping up unintentionally, he was the very model of a knight—proper in etiquette and devoted to service.
“Don’t make a show of it, Delcian. This isn’t something that deserves praise,” Uber said.
“Sir Uber, dismissing a lady’s gratitude isn’t courteous either.”
“…….”
Unlike Delcian, whose chivalry seemed ingrained, the other adjutant, Uber, was a textbook soldier. If anything happened to Yulian, he would draw his sword without hesitation—but unless necessary, he didn’t socialize with her. Even now, he stood at a distance, focused on his duty and keeping a sharp watch.
Right. An organization needs all kinds to function well.
“It’s a relief Sol has such good subordinates.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“Um, my lady—may I ask you just one thing?”
Among the courteous knights, the one who leaned in again with curious eyes was Sol’s last adjutant, Roxita. His face looked as though he’d weathered every storm life could throw at him, yet he was the youngest among them—and the loosest-lipped. Yulian had a bad feeling another awkward question was coming, and before she could say no, his mouth was already running.
“What exactly is the relationship between Sir Edgar and you, my lady?”
As expected. With an expression full of anticipation—more like a dreamy adolescent boy than someone who matched his burly build—he asked eagerly, oblivious to Yulian’s sour expression.
“Hahaha.”
“Please, I’m dying of curiosity! If it were just a knight and a lady, Sir Edgar wouldn’t have been so—no, extremely—devoted to finding you! He never neglected his duties as Union Lord, but every spare moment he spent searching for you. So we thought maybe it was a forbidden love between a knight and a young lady—!”
“Hahaha. It’s not like that.”
“Oh! Then is it Sir Edgar’s unrequited love?”
She’d expected the question, but the straight punch still hurt more than she liked. Yulian answered with an empty laugh.
Normally, that would be enough of a hint to stop—but Roxita wasn’t normal.
The other knights, maintaining decorum, didn’t speak up, but they were clearly just as curious, ears practically twitching. It was easy to imagine giant bunny ears flapping atop their heads—an absurd, unbalanced vision.
With no other choice, Yulian sighed deeply and beckoned Roxita closer. When he leaned toward the window, she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him close. Their faces nearly touching, Roxita turned red like a tomato. Ignoring that, Yulian whispered in his ear in a low voice.
“I got rejected. So shut it.”
Yes—the beautiful boy with a tragic past, and the girl who saved his life. Looking back, how could there not have been romance between them? Especially since Yulian always pitied him. The fate endured by that kind, gentle boy was far too cruel. When someone who’s already beautiful is also pitiable and precious—what happens then? The game was over before it began.
Hey, Sol. What do you think would happen if I said to hell with being a noble and asked you to run away with me?
On a bright, warm day when she was fourteen, Yulian had tossed out the words as if they were nothing more than a silly joke. She always treated Sol that way. Others thought her carefree attitude meant she was teasing him—but that wasn’t true.
They were already employer and employee. Any suggestion she made could become pressure backed by authority. Yulian didn’t want to disregard Sol’s feelings, especially when he barely asserted himself as it was. That was why she always waited for his answer with an indifferent, either way is fine expression.
But at her question, Sol looked as though his world had collapsed.
Did I seem like someone who would harbor such outrageous thoughts?! You misunderstand! I would never dare covet my mistress! That could never happen! Please don’t test me with such dangerous words, even as a joke! If anything—if anything—please beat me until you feel better!
Rather than run away with you, I’d rather be beaten to death. The nuance differed, but his rejection was absolute, without the slightest room for consideration. That refusal struck Yulian’s heart like an arrow—a critical hit.
“Ah—uh—sorry.”
Sorry for saying something stupid. Thus the girl’s confession was wrapped up as a joke no one could laugh at and buried as a dark memory. There had never been any chance. From that day on, no matter how devoted Sol was to her, no matter how impressive or beautiful he looked, Yulian never saw him as a man again—because she had realized, painfully clearly, that he saw her not as a woman, but only as his mistress.
