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Chapter : 37
Tris spun around. The moment he stepped fully into the hall, she slammed the door shut with all her strength. Bang! The force shoved Tris forward so hard he nearly stumbled. Anger flared at once. He had never been thrown out so coldly in his life. No one had ever slammed a door in his face. Damn it.
Muttering vulgar curses under his breath, he started toward the office—then stopped. He stared down at the front of his trousers, eyes widening in disbelief. He was still aroused. Stunned, he asked himself:
“Have I lost my mind?”
There was not a single thing about Emblin he liked. The women he liked were, well… well… He didn’t actually know, since he’d never liked a woman before—but it certainly wasn’t her. And yet, here he was.
Damn it, damn, what the hell—still cursing under his breath, he entered his office. He began gathering ledgers one by one, and then abruptly stopped.
“Wait—why am I doing this?”
He was her husband, after all. And the owner of Wintergarden and the five surrounding villages. That had been the deal he made with Emblin. Why should he drag all this back to the village inn? Tris let out a cold laugh and put the ledgers back down.
“She can come whenever she wants and look at them herself.”
She needed to learn how to compromise. If he had given up his rights as a husband, then she could endure his comings and goings.
Tris left the office and grabbed his cloak. As he swung it on, he instinctively glanced down at his trousers again. He angrily tugged his shirt loose to cover himself. His brow creased in annoyance.
Peta watched Tris carefully. Last night had been the consummation. Peta had never imagined Tris would actually go through with it, and so stared at him wide-eyed. Wasn’t he supposed to have zero interest in women? No matter how many times Peta had urged him to join him in those private places full of women, Tris had never budged.
Peta had been ready to write the Duke of Ake a letter that went like this:
<Yes, he married her, but as I’ve said before, it’s only because he needed a place to settle. In time Tris will regret his mistake and return to his rightful lands, and then Redian’s Burk Village will belong to House Ake again. I can say this so confidently because Tris has not even shared the marriage bed…>
The Duke of Ake despised Princess Emblin. Above all, she brought nothing to the Ake lands—no dowry, no inheritance, and worse, she carried only the king’s hatred. That was why Peta had planned to emphasize that at least they’d gained a small piece of land. But now, that was useless.
Breakfast arrived—bread and potato stew.
“Ugh. What is this?”
It hadn’t been this bad yesterday… probably. He’d been too relaxed under a roof for the first time in a while to notice. Now, looking closely, the bread was rock-hard and the stew smelled strange. His appetite vanished.
But Shaun and Ron ate happily. Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp. They kept glancing at Tris and Peta’s untouched plates.
Tris pushed his plate toward them.
“Eat it all.”
“Thank you!”
Peta winced. Did they have pig throats for stomachs? How could they eat that and call it food? The smell alone made him want to grab the innkeeper by the collar. If he kept watching, he’d be sick, so he turned to Tris. Tris was tapping his fingers on the table, clearly thinking.
Peta spoke.
“So what now?”
Tris shot him a sidelong glance.
“You’ve got a plan, right?”
Tris folded his arms.
“First thing is to build a gate bar.”
Peta immediately understood.
“Because more people are going to come trying to take the land.”
“Exactly.”
There would be no shortage of men seeking the chance to marry a princess. Only when word of Emblin’s marriage spread across all of Sloeland would they stop.
Tris muttered to himself.
“If they’re useful, beat them just enough and take them in. If they’re not, beat them half-dead and drive them out.”
He was married now; he had every right to defend himself. No husband would show mercy to a man coming after his wife. And even if he killed someone, the king couldn’t stop him.
Though the king would never be pleased. The child he had cast aside like trash suddenly had a protector. Well, too bad. No reason to care about the feelings of a man who abandoned his own child.
Peta snorted. He didn’t doubt Tris’s skill. Hadn’t Took—the man always boasting of his strength—had his wrist snapped like a dry twig by Tris using a wooden sword? And that probably wasn’t even half of what Tris could do. Peta had never seen him truly angry. His concern was something else.
Peta said coldly:
“And you trust loyalty gained like that?”
“I’ll have to make them trust me. And before that, I’ll have to show them something worth trusting.”
In Tris’s mind, trust, loyalty, even survival were not things that could be won with words—they had to be proven.
“Finish eating. We’ll go inspect the village.”
“We could go without them. Let’s just go now.”
Peta wanted nothing more than to stand up—the potato stew smelled awful.
“No.”
Tris shook his head.
“This is their chance to see with their own eyes what we only taught in words. They need to learn. It’ll make them useful.”
On the journey here, Peta had taught Shaun and Ron the basics of swordsmanship—forced by Tris at first, but eventually, he changed. He realized he actually had talent for teaching. And watching the boys slowly improve felt… good.
After sword practice, Tris would sit the two blockheads down and teach them how to defend territory. The most basic of basics. Because any land is worthless if you cannot defend it. It was torture for them—unlike fighting, it required thinking. The fools.
Tris noticed Peta’s expression.
“Want to spar?”
Neither had been able to train properly on the way here. Tris hadn’t skipped his own drills, but he missed a live match.
Peta stood.
“Go easy.”
“I’ll take it easy.”
Peta snorted. A passing dog would laugh at that. “Easy”? That might be the one word least connected to Tris.
They went to the back yard. No armor—just as they always did. Real blades. Tris grabbed his sword with both hands and fixed his gaze on Peta. Peta gripped his sword diagonally across his body.
They moved at once. Swish-swish-swish. Clang! Peta’s brow twitched. Vvvmmm. Pain shot through his wrist—Tris’s strength was unreal. His body still felt stiff from travel, making it worse. Tch! Peta spun and slashed in a straight arc. Tris bent lightly out of the way, then swept upward.
Clang! Peta barely blocked, but was driven back two steps. He grit his teeth. But in speed, he had the advantage. No—he was faster, he swore it. His movements accelerated. Whish! Whish! At first, Tris dodged here and there. A triumphant grin crept over Peta’s lips—just as Tris’s speed changed. Swish—CLANG! CLANG!
Each strike rattled Peta’s wrist like it was cracking. His shoulder felt like it was collapsing. He blocked and blocked, but his knees bent lower every time. That bastard—he was still relaxed. Endless. Still—Peta refused to lose. Just once. Just once, he wanted to win.
He put all his strength into his legs, pivoted on his right foot, and slashed across Tris’s chest. CLANG! His sword spun through the air and landed on the ground.
Tris grinned.
“That was really good.”
Peta, face flushed, grumbled,
“Good? I didn’t so much as touch your damned coat.”
“No—you were faster than before. Cleaner, too. You could take on Took at this rate.”
Peta picked up his sword.
“How could I fight Took? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Even though Took lost to Tris, he was still Sloeland’s greatest knight—cruel, vicious, and terrifyingly strong.
Tris said,
“No need to be modest. Pick up just a little more speed and you’ll beat him.”
“Tch. Easy to say after knocking my sword away.”
Tris chuckled and pulled Peta into a playful, one-armed headlock. Peta laughed.
“Cut it out. You think that makes up for it? What about my wrist?”
Vvmm, vvmm. It still tingled.
“You brute. That was you going easy? Unbelievable. I should’ve known better than to trust you.”
But Peta was laughing too. It was impossible to hate Tris. He was the friend Peta admired—the strength, the skill, the talent, the birth… everything. And yet Tris had always treated him as an equal.
At ten years old, Peta had wandered as a squire to a wandering knight and eventually arrived at Ake territory. He had been thin as a dry branch, beaten down by a harsh world, flinching at every sound, unable to answer aloud, mocked by the locals.
Then Tris returned from Dello Castle. Also ten. And dazzling from the first moment. He had smiled confidently and offered his hand.
<I’m Tris Ake.>
From the moment Peta grasped that hand, he stood beside him—not behind. From then on, Tris was his only friend. His brother.
