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Chapter 37.
You and I, We’re Opposites
“Striking the vital points—an efficient method, the kind favored by those who lurk in the shadows.”
At those words, the sand-colored eyes widened ever so slightly.
“How dare you. You actually managed to approach Her Highness.”
Arsène growled low, putting more force into his sword. Their blades clashed and trembled together. The close-quarter contest of strength lasted only a moment before Herya narrowed his eyes and flashed a sly smile.
“Her Highness treats me quite comfortably, though.”
“Do not mistake the kindness Her Highness extends to you.”
Arsène thrust his sword with all his might—its sheer power was comparable to a spear strike. Gone was the quiet knight who usually followed Rose’s side so dutifully; before Herya now stood a feral beast. With nimble movements, Herya avoided the crushing blows and shouted back:
“You’re just the same, hiding your true nature, aren’t you?”
“What are you saying.”
“Look at your face right now. The tender-hearted princess would be utterly terrified if she saw it.”
Arsène disliked hearing Her Highness spoken of so casually by this so-called holy knight.
“Even so, the blade of an assassin can never compare to the heart concealed within.”
“Assassin?”
Herya raised an eyebrow.
“Do not even dream of harming Her Highness. My eyes are always upon you.”
Arsène slashed horizontally with force. His opponent leapt high, so high it was hard to believe a human could reach such heights. Twisting twice in midair, Herya lightly landed behind him.
The crowd roared with excitement, delighted by the exchange. Herya even waved like a jester to entertain them.
“Half right, half wrong,” he shrugged.
“I did approach Her Highness intentionally, but I’m no assassin.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t care. But if I were an assassin, don’t you think I would have acted long before now?”
Arsène shifted his grip, taking an offensive stance—but his brow furrowed at the next words.
“I’ve even snuck into Her Highness’s chambers before.”
“What?”
“It was a very late night.”
As Arsène’s expression twisted, Herya burst into loud, mocking laughter, clutching his stomach.
“That face! Now I understand why Her Highness teases you so much.”
“Do not equate Her Highness with the likes of you. It’s insulting.”
“Oh? But it’s fine if Her Highness bullies you?”
Arsène found it baffling how Herya twisted words so flippantly. From the beginning, this man’s insolent mouth had grated on him. Still, no matter what Herya did, all that mattered was keeping Her Highness safe.
Without replying further, Arsène closed the distance at speed. The ring echoed with nothing but the sound of clashing steel. With each step Arsène pressed forward, Herya was forced two or three steps back. His sly evasions only made Arsène grit his teeth harder.
“Honestly, if I hadn’t seen you duel before, I’d have been down already!” Herya shouted, parrying blow after blow.
“You and I—we’re opposites.”
Arsène’s swordsmanship was relentless, pressing forward like a storm. Herya’s was the opposite—dragging out the fight, toying with his prey like a cat with a mouse. For a moment, his murky eyes gleamed warmly, like sunlight over the desert. Then he sprang forward with sudden ferocity, launching a sharp strike.
Arsène diverted the blade sideways, but Herya used the recoil like a spring, lunging straight for his neck. In that instant, Arsène’s black eyes caught a glimmer of blue. He instantly raised his sword and slashed.
Clash! Startled, Herya flipped backward through the air. Something small dropped to the sand with a dull thunk—a locket, its chain severed.
The holy knight stared blankly at it before muttering.
“Ahh. You really are a jealous knight.”
Arsène had deliberately allowed a strike to slip through, just to cut away that blue glimmer. In truth, it wasn’t the jewel he wanted destroyed, but the trace of Her Highness hidden within it.
Herya picked up the broken locket with regretful eyes. He knew that had been his only chance. Without that blue, he’d never get another opening.
“Such a pity. I rather liked it.”
Something Arsène wished to erase, even at the cost of his own life. That piqued Herya’s interest.
“So this was your aim all along?”
“That was far too precious a thing for you to have.”
“I made a fair deal with Her Highness to get it.”
“And I swung my sword fairly as well. Apologies if I happened to destroy something dear to you.”
Herya’s jaw dropped at Arsène’s brazen response.
“Wow. I’ve seen so many unfamiliar sides of you today. I really hope Her Highness realizes how petty you are.”
Arsène pointed his sword at him sharply. Herya raised both hands high.
“I surrender! I surrender! You know what happens if you strike a defeated man, don’t you?”
With the finals ahead, Arsène couldn’t risk disqualification for foul play. Still, he regretted not silencing that insolent mouth. Reluctantly, he lowered his weapon. The referee declared his victory.
“Woooahhh! That black-blood guy’s incredible!”
“But the smaller one put up a fierce fight too! What a thrilling match!”
The crowd roared in unison, satisfied not with who won or lost but with the spectacle itself.
“Tch. Guess I’ll be going home empty-handed.”
Herya shook his head, clutching the broken necklace as he left the arena. Arsène remained standing, his gaze sweeping the stands until he found a pair of noble eyes. When their eyes met, her lips formed silent words:
You were amazing, Arsène.
Even without sound, he understood. She was the one before whom he never wished to show his ugliness. To her, he would never betray his honor. The blue cloth tied to his hilt fluttered in the wind, and Arsène bowed deeply to it, as though it were that very vivid color.
The final was between Jade Lambert and Arsène de Lafayette. After the intense semifinals, the audience waited eagerly for the match.
From the VIP seats, nobles and dignitaries watched with interest. Both knights were from the Empire, so foreign guests looked on with awe. Yet, contrary to expectations, the final ended more swiftly than the semifinals. The victor was Lafayette.
“A champion has been crowned for the eve festival!”
The referee stoked the festive mood. Pop-pop-pop! Paper fireworks burst overhead, scattering confetti and petals. Autumn sunlight shone on the black-haired man’s face. Where there is a victor, there is also the defeated.
Jade Lambert threw down his sword roughly and stormed out of the arena. Richard Officier watched him go with pity. As a staunch aristocrat, Lambert had always looked down on the Dunstans. Unable to accept defeat, he would be seething somewhere even now.
“Lately, I hear much about the Marquis de Lafayette.”
Prince Tanasis regarded Arsène standing amidst the cheers with a detached gaze.
“He is skilled, and excels at leading men.”
“You say he is to be your successor?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Sir Richard, captain of the Imperial Knights, replied respectfully.
“Who could have guessed he would win!”
“I’ve never even seen one of the black-bloods before.”
“Hush! Don’t call him that. It’s an insult to the Marquis.”
Tanasis overheard the nobles whispering. They were unsettled by the fact that the champion was a black-blood. They admired his swordsmanship, yet feared it; envied him, yet desired him. To Tanasis, who judged by ability alone, such fuss was meaningless. In his eyes, the Marquis was precisely the talent needed to strengthen the Empire’s naval warfare.
“The Remigis knights are undervalued.”
“Yes. Though they’ve built up many achievements since entering the palace a year ago, many still look down on them.”
“They deserve better than what they receive.”
“If the Marquis becomes captain of the Imperial Knights, that will change.”
Tanasis tapped his chair’s armrest thoughtfully.
“And would he hold both positions at once?”
“I considered it, but… perhaps Your Highness might give them a new name?”
“A new name?”
Richard hesitated.
“The Remigis Imperial Knights, Your Highness.”
Tanasis considered the suggestion. It meant merging Lafayette’s order with the Imperial Knights—no small feat.
“The Lafayette family is a symbol of the Empire’s founding. Convincing the Imperialists won’t be difficult.”
“But bringing them in is also a gamble.”
Lafayette was still an outsider. To the aristocratic faction, it could hand them fuel for criticism.
“Most of all, there’s no guarantee he’ll side with us.”
“He is trustworthy,” Richard replied firmly.
But Tanasis’s next words shook him.
“You mean the knight rumored to have an affair with my sister.”
“Y-Your Highness, that’s merely gossip.”
“Yet neither of them has denied it.”
Indeed, the Marquis was often at the Third Princess’s side. But Richard could not believe the loyal man would engage in such impropriety.
“Your Highness, the Marquis is not that kind of man.”
“He’d better not be. A royal marriage is no trivial matter.”
“……”
“Arrange a meeting. The future commander of the Imperial Knights must at least be properly introduced.”
“Yes. I shall set it after the Founding Festival.”
Tanasis dismissed him. Though he did not press further, he didn’t wholly trust Richard’s assurances. Just look—his sister was already rushing down to the victor, her cheeks flushed like any girl in love.
Tanasis gave a cold laugh, his eyes glinting like ice.
“It seems I’ll need to separate them.”
