TLDWAE 49

Chapter 49

Had it been ten minutes or so? After sobbing her heart out until she was completely drained, Serivis finally lifted her tear-and-snot-streaked, messy face. Her eyes were so swollen it was doubtful she could even see properly.

“Are you done crying? Look at my dress—ruined because of you.”

“Hmph, so what! You can just buy me a new one, can’t you?”

“Then send me the Marquessate of Balta along with the dress.”

Caría pushed Serivis away while wiping at her dampened clothes with a handkerchief. Watching her deliberately scrub at the stained bodice, Serivis stuck out her lips sulkily.

“Do you really have to have the marquessate? It’s the largest imperial domain I directly govern…”

“Yes, I do.”

“Fine, fine!”

Embarrassed that she had cried like a child until her tears and snot were spent, Serivis hurriedly wiped her face with her own handkerchief and got up. Yet her lips, though still pouting, curved faintly upward. It was as if she felt lighter, relieved to have set aside for a moment the suffocating worries that had been weighing her down.

When she opened the door, the knight waiting outside came into view. He seemed troubled by her tear-stained face, but he lowered his head without asking anything.

Caría remembered his name—Higon Alcestera, the man who had served as her personal knight until she came of age. The princess had begged and wheedled until she managed to steal him away, unable to bear seeing how much Caría trusted him.

“Seri, come to think of it, you really do like picking up the things I’ve discarded, don’t you? Or is it that you actually like me?”

“H-hmph!”

Serivis’s face flushed bright red, and she stomped loudly as she left on purpose. Caría silently laughed at the sight.

The princess had been raised so preciously that she had never learned to doubt others. Her nauseatingly positive worldview, as if the world revolved around her, was utterly repulsive.

Serivis, caught up in her emotions, hadn’t noticed at all—Caría hadn’t promised her a single thing.

“Honestly, being shameless suits you perfectly.”

When hunting prey, you had to leave at least one escape route. Cornered, even a rat would bite a cat.

Caría tossed the soiled handkerchief to the floor. She didn’t usually enjoy theatrics, but for the sake of the climax, she could endure a little filth.

* * *

“So the princess came to see you, and you actually received her? It didn’t look like my lady lifted a finger, but she left crying and…”

Early in the morning, the sound of clashing swords rang out in the townhouse’s back garden. Shagal had combined his morning report with a long-overdue request for a sparring match with Noah.

At first, the townhouse staff had been uncomfortable with mercenaries carrying swords wandering around inside. But now they were fully accustomed to it, even calling out encouragement as they passed.

“Is that so? Perhaps she was moved by my lady’s generosity.”

“Hup! Haa! Well, who knows? Maybe the lady forgave her magnanimously—or… huh! Maybe she’s plotting a grand betrayal behind her back!”

“Either way, the fact that she didn’t strike her down on the spot is proof enough of generosity, don’t you think?”

When Caría had asked Noah to look into the party attended by both the duke and the princess, he immediately realized that Pandion’s mistress was none other than the princess herself.

Regardless of whether a marriage was happy or not, who wouldn’t be furious to discover a spouse was unfaithful? And for the partner to be not just anyone but a cousin—if Caría had been of a more hot-blooded nature, she might have beaten them senseless without hesitation.

Noah despised seeing those wretches parade their faces around as if they’d done nothing wrong. And he channeled every ounce of that contempt into his blade.

Thanks to that, poor Shagal—his sparring partner—was thrown to the dirt again and again, overwhelmed by Noah’s force.

“Haah… good grief. Your Highness, I’m your bodyguard! What are we supposed to do if you’re stronger than me?”

“Sss—!”

“Ah, yes, yes. Fine, ‘Captain,’ then.”

Shagal grumbled, brushing dirt off himself as he got up. His lips stuck out so far he could have passed for a duck.

“What can I say? Perfection is my nature. If you must resent someone, resent the gods for making me flawless in beauty and skill.”

“Everything else aside, I really envy that optimism. So is that why you’re unfazed?”

“Hm? By what?”

“By the children, of course.”

When Caría suddenly appeared claiming Andyion and Alice were her children, Shagal and the others had been shocked out of their wits.

Their captain—so confident in his looks, yet utterly inexperienced with women—was finally interested in someone, only to discover she had children?

Twins, no less!

And then she had even asked them to use his newly-bought title to bring those children into court.

The mercenaries had worried Noah might fall into a deep funk. But instead, he seemed completely unfazed, living easily with the children—something they never expected.

“Did you perhaps have some warning?”

“I was a little surprised too.”

What surprised Noah wasn’t that Caría had children. What startled him was how little the news had affected him.

In fact, he found the children rather adorable. Sunny but scatterbrained Alice, and sharp little Andyion, who trailed after Caría, glaring at Noah with open hostility.

Watching them made him chuckle to himself.

“Maybe it’s because they look so much like her. Somehow, they feel familiar and endearing. Even that cheeky little master.”

“Well, five is the perfect age for being cheeky.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to apologize for finding him so.”

At that moment, a cold, cutting voice slipped into their playful banter.

The two men lowered their gaze to see a small boy approaching, exuding a presence far beyond what a five-year-old should possess.

“Sir Trantes, you always return at night and appear again in the morning. If you’re going to be so noisy from dawn, wouldn’t it be better to stay at the estate altogether?”

“Oh my, do you wish I wouldn’t leave at all? How unexpected… our little master is more clingy than he looks.”

Unruffled by the sarcasm, Noah teased lightly. Andyion trembled with disgust, his tiny face contorted.

Where had such a small child learned to make expressions like that? Noah stifled his laughter with a cough.

“Unfortunately, I run a mercenary company. I can’t stay here all day. And there are things your mother asks me to handle.”

“I suppose those things must be done at night, then? I’m terribly curious what sort of work you do at such hours—with that pretty face of yours.”

“Oh! At last, we agree on something. I, too, think my face is rather pretty, just as you say.”

Deflecting! Andyion glared, eyes narrowed. He had a bad feeling about this man—but no proof.

From the start, he had disliked Noah. Always trying to get close to Caría, always hiding something. That smiling face pretending at kindness without revealing a single thing about himself—it was infuriating.

“My apologies for interrupting. It seems you were sparring.”

“No worries. We were just taking a break.”

“Then, could you use the interval to face me instead?”

Andyion had never held a sword himself, but he had faced many who did—and had always won. After all, he was the guardian of the castle acknowledged by the archmage himself.

He had never once bowed in that turbulent era. What was there to fear from this era without magic? A mere human sword was nothing but an iron stick.

This man is still necessary to Mother. But there’s no harm in a warning.

Yet Noah looked utterly taken aback. Not because he feared the five-year-old before him.

But sparring with a five-year-old? Even for a mercenary, it was absurd. How could such tiny hands even grip a steel sword?

Noah wasn’t confident he could spar with Andyion without hurting him.

“That would be difficult.”

“Why? Are you afraid of losing to a child and disgracing yourself?”

“Haha! There’s that, but more importantly, I can’t raise my sword against you. If you really wish it, get permission from your mother.”

So he invoked the one excuse Andyion could not ignore—Caría. At that, Andyion’s face twisted in frustration. As a good son who obeyed his mother, he couldn’t possibly get that permission.

Five or not, Andyion was clever enough to know this sparring was absurd.

“Shall I speak to her on your behalf?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. On second thought, it would be improper to steal the duties from those already paid to do them. Just work as hard as you’re paid to.”

Andyion sniffed disdainfully and turned on his heel. With his short arms folded behind his back and his short legs moving with noble elegance, he looked every inch a young aristocrat.

Could he really be five? Perhaps a stunted fifteen-year-old instead?

Watching him stroll unhurriedly into the mansion, gracefully acknowledging the servants’ greetings as he passed, Noah couldn’t help but smile warmly.