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Chapter 12. Because of You
Petals drifted to the ground. Spring was beginning to wane. Upon checking the newly arrived letter, Dian de Benoit frowned. As if spending these fine days surrounded by the stench of blood wasn’t bad enough, the letter addressed to his superior gave him a headache. More precisely, the thought of the sender’s temperament alone twisted his expression.
Although he was the second son of the pro-Emperor House of Benoit, he was utterly fed up with the hypersensitive temperament of the Second Princess. His father, the head of the family, or his elder brother would surely scold him if they knew.
“Well, I only need to stay in good graces with His Highness the Prince.”
Along with delivering the letter, Dian planned to submit a petition requesting some rest. Lately, His Highness had been sweeping through every troublemaker on the borders, leaving all the resulting paperwork for Dian to deal with.
“Your Highness Tanasis, it’s Dian.”
“Come in.”
Dian entered the largest outpost in the military camp and greeted the man who was sharpening a sword. The man had hair as cold in hue as the blade he tended.
“No matter how many times I see him, he’s always so emotionless.”
Ever since he began serving the Second Prince, he had never once seen him express emotion.
“And with that blank face, he just slices enemy heads clean off.”
Having seen countless such scenes while serving him, Dian had become numb to the blood and gore of the battlefield—all thanks to this prince.
“A letter?”
“Yes. It’s from Her Highness Aracne.”
Tanasis read the letter silently, his gaze turning frigid.
“What does she say?”
“She attended the launch ceremony.”
“What? That headstrong woman?”
It was a statement that could be considered slanderous toward royalty, but Tanasis didn’t bat an eye. He leaned back in his chair and tossed the finished letter stack onto his desk. Dian quickly picked it up and skimmed through it—then gasped in disbelief.
“She traveled to Bastia and attended the launch ceremony? Princess Rose led the Remigis Knights—wait, Princess Rose?”
“Yes. The youngest princess went in person. Looks like Aracne followed her there.”
Tanasis tapped his finger against the desk—a habit he displayed when deep in thought. Dian took the cue and shut his mouth. He brought the spent paper stack to the brazier and burned it.
The journey from Bastia to this border region took over two weeks, so the ceremony must’ve concluded by now. That the quiet Third Princess had suddenly made a move… Could it mean another faction had emerged while the capital was unattended?
“But Father gave no hint of it.”
In the capital, House Benoit’s information network was always active. When had this all happened? As Dian spiraled into confusion, a chill voice pierced his ears. Calm though it was, it roused a sense of urgency.
“We’re returning to the capital.”
“Marching to Erythria?”
“Yes. We’ll depart at full speed starting tomorrow, so be prepared.”
Though the return would be grueling, Dian welcomed it. Finally, a reprieve from this muddy battlefield. A new leaf sprouted where the petals had fallen—the sweet rest he longed for arriving only at the very end of spring.
✧ ✧ ✧
“You’re in the training grounds again?”
Upon hearing from a maid where Arsen was, Rose sulked. It had been nearly a month since their return from the launch ceremony, yet her relationship with him hadn’t progressed. After completing his duty as the captain of the Remigis Knights, ‘Sir Lafayette’ disbanded the unit and promptly disappeared. Things had seemed to end on a high note, but contrary to her hopes, he hadn’t shown his face since.
“I mean, I even confessed to him. Isn’t this too much?”
Not to mention, though the excuse was sharing body heat, he had still held her in his arms. If he had even a sliver of respect for a noble princess, he shouldn’t have ignored her bold confession. The fact that he had coldly walked away? She’d already buried that deep in her mind.
“I’m not giving up. If he won’t come to me, I’ll just go to him.”
She changed into clothes more suited for training. She ditched the cumbersome dress for snug, soft-fitting trousers. Admiring how functional she looked in the mirror, she fastened the obsidian-studded token of love to her belt, stretched her legs, and headed to the training grounds.
“Today’s the day I ask him to teach me swordsmanship.”
She intended to formally request lessons.
Recalling the monster attack during their journey to Bastia still gave her chills. If Arsen hadn’t been there, she would’ve died. If she learned to wield a sword, at least she could protect herself.
Upon arrival, the knights recognized her and greeted her warmly—a stark contrast to their past demeanor since the launch ceremony.
“Your Highness?”
Lance approached, surprised to see her.
“It’s been a while, Sir Lance.”
“What brings you here?”
“Have you seen Arsen?”
“The captain just finished training and went into the barracks with Sir Hagen.”
It seemed she’d missed him. Rose clicked her tongue.
“But Your Highness, your outfit…”
“I came to ask for sword training.”
“You wish to learn swordsmanship?”
Lance scanned her attire before quickly averting his gaze, realizing it was impolite.
“Aha! Would you come with me, please?”
He seemed to have an idea and led her energetically. They arrived at a small, circular training ground with three wooden dummies and a neat rack of practice swords.
“This area is for apprentice knights. Perhaps it would help to start with a wooden sword?”
“Sounds good.”
Lance picked up a wooden sword and demonstrated with practiced ease. Rose imitated his stance clumsily, gripping her sword.
“It’s heavier than I thought. I figured wood would be light.”
“Even wooden swords require strength. You’ll need to swing it comfortably to avoid injury when using a real blade.”
The weight pulled forward awkwardly. She wasn’t sure if she was swinging the sword or if the sword was swinging her. Every time she struck, her movements flailed around comically.
“No, like this—wait! Your Highness—!”
Lance finally lost patience and grabbed her wrist.
“You’re not supposed to swing it like that. Here, like this—”
“What are you two doing?”
“C-Captain!”
Arsen’s unusually low voice rang out as he glared sharply at them. For some reason, his expression was visibly displeased as he rebuked Lance.
“Didn’t I tell you to inspect the equipment?”
“I—uh—”
“Your hand.”
“Ah!”
At the captain’s stern voice, the boy flinched and dropped his wooden sword.
“You’ll be punished later for laying hands on Her Highness. Dismissed.”
Lance gave a stiff salute and fled. Rose glared at Arsen, who had chased away her sword instructor.
“Sir Lance did nothing wrong. I was the one who grabbed him.”
“What brings you here?”
“I came to learn swordsmanship. I’m fully prepared today—look, convincing, right?”
Rose proudly showed off her trousers—the kind stable boys might wear. With hands on her hips, she declared with confidence.
“Oh my. What in the world are you wearing?”
“You told me before—proper attire is essential for swordsmanship. So now you have to teach me. You even interrupted Lance!”
“Were you… serious about that?”
At that, Rose raised her voice indignantly.
“Of course I was! Did you think I was joking?”
“To be honest, I didn’t think you needed to learn. You’re protected by the Imperial Guard and the Remigis Knights.”
“Pfft, funny thing is, I don’t see a single guard. I’ll protect myself, so don’t argue and teach me.”
She had come here alone—no handmaids, no guards. Arsen belatedly realized this and scolded her.
“Even if the palace is well-guarded, it’s careless of you. You should at least bring a maid—”
“That’s why you should teach me swordsmanship. So I won’t be careless.”
With no maid to accompany her, she pouted.
“It’s because you wouldn’t come find me that I had to come here. Technically, this is all your fault.”
“My fault? What are you talking about?”
“Wow, look at you pretending not to know. You hugged me and now you’re playing innocent?”
Her wording was risky enough to cause a major misunderstanding. Arsen flinched.
“I—I never did such a thing.”
“You totally groped me! Take responsibility for touching a royal’s body!”
She was the one who had groped him, and Arsen had desperately tried to resist. But Rose spoke shamelessly, even pretending to hug him again. He glanced around anxiously, worried someone might overhear.
“That was purely a survival tactic to preserve body heat—”
“Whatever. If you teach me how to use a sword, I’ll overlook it. But you’ll be responsible from now on.”
Still unmoving, Arsen watched as Rose raised her index finger close to his face and said sternly:
“I’m being serious. Don’t make me issue a royal command.”
“…Then first, don’t drop the sword.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he finally pulled the wooden sword from the ground and handed it to her. With permission granted, Rose snatched it eagerly. Arsen adjusted her footwork carefully and stood across from her.
“Now swing at me.”
“Attack you?”
“Yes.”
Rose shook her head.
“No. That’s dangerous.”
“I won’t get hurt, so go ahead.”
“Geez, even when I try to be nice…”
Annoyed, she swung with more force, hoping her blade might reach him. But the moment she moved, the sword slipped from her hand and flew in a clean arc. Arsen twisted slightly to avoid it and watched as the sword clattered across the training ground.
“…”
“Ha ha, my hand slipped. I’ll try again.”
Rose laughed awkwardly and retrieved the sword. Gripping it more tightly, she tried again—only to have the same result. Over and over, the weapon flew out of her hands like she was practicing throwing rather than swordsmanship.
“Wow. Is this my real athletic ability?”
Rose de Calonne had a body as small as it was frail. In her modern life, she had mastered all sorts of sports, making this discrepancy feel all the more bitter.
“Do you intend to continue?”
At last, Arsen delivered her death sentence. Her reluctant training came to an end.
“As I said before, you don’t need to push yourself. You’ll be protected.”
With those cold words, he returned to the main training hall. Rose collapsed where she stood, defeated.
“Protect myself with swordsmanship?”
She’d be lucky to even hold one properly. Frustration boiled up as she glared down at the hilt in her hand.
