After turning seventeen, Hyderlin visited the knight quarters of Kroitze Cathedral at least once a week. It was because Sarg was the only peer who could match her evenly. Seeing each other two or three times a month, Sarg naturally became accustomed to Hyderlin. The other holy knights were the same.
It was thanks to this that Hyderlin could participate in the undead subjugation in the northern mountains.
Originally, the annual undead subjugation was the duty of the holy knights. The commander of the holy knights, who had been watching Hyderlin spar with Sarg, casually suggested that she join the subjugation, and Hyderlin readily accepted. Thanks to this, she spent several weeks rubbing shoulders with the holy knights including Sarg.
After that, as if Sarg had developed some intimacy with Hyderlin, he would initiate private conversations. Hyderlin was quite pleased with this change in their relationship. She had wanted to become close with Sarg.
“According to the principle of primogeniture, shouldn’t you become king?”
In front of the knight quarters stood a tree whose circumference was about an armful. Sarg was standing with his back against that trunk.
At his question, Hyderlin chuckled as if he’d said something absurd.
“Thank you for saying that. But I have a problem with legitimacy.”
“Legitimacy?”
Sarg raised his neat eyebrows. Hyderlin also raised her eyebrows as if imitating his expression.
“You really don’t know?”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“You know doctrine and ethics but don’t know the most famous rumor in Lotsa? Your colleagues didn’t gossip about me behind my back?”
“I’m not interested in stories arbitrarily told by people who don’t even know you well.”
Others would say he was frustratingly clueless, but actually she quite liked this aspect of Sarg.
“Still, isn’t that too little interest in me? Sir, please take some interest.”
At Hyderlin’s joke, Sarg clamped his mouth shut and looked somewhere far away. The answer came a little later.
“…If it’s a story I may know, please tell me. I’ll listen.”
“Thanks for your interest!”
When Hyderlin smiled brightly, Sarg sighed looking at the ground.
“Good. It’s like this.”
Hyderlin ambled under the tree’s shade and then plopped down with her legs stretched out.
“My mother was a maid, and she became queen through my father’s strong push. I was born five months after the two held their wedding ceremony at Kroitze Cathedral.”
Marriage is a sacrament. A child conceived before the sacrament was difficult to recognize.
“Moreover, I only resemble my mother. This red hair is also inherited from my mother.”
Hyderlin fiddled with her hair. She absolutely couldn’t like this red curly hair that didn’t resemble the king at all.
“So here’s the question. What reaction would the church and nobles show regarding my birth?”
“…Did they suspect Her Majesty the Queen’s infidelity?”
“Correct!”
Hyderlin snapped her fingers. Sarg’s face contorted. Hyderlin smiled brightly.
“But thanks to my father recognizing me as a princess, I was able to live as a princess. The fact that I showed talent in swordsmanship also played a part.”
The late king had been a warrior king. He had won consecutive victories in jousting tournaments he entered with his identity hidden. He had also led victories in large and small wars at the borders with Larochelle and Saskia.
So when Hyderlin showed talent in swordsmanship, it was the late king who was most delighted.
“As expected, she’s my daughter!”
Hyderlin loved those words. She felt recognized.
Father! I am your daughter! Not evidence of infidelity!
When she returned to the castle after stopping the southern lords’ rebellion, how happy she had been when her father patted her shoulder saying she was indeed his daughter.
How she had to suppress the surging sadness when she saw her mother stroking her chest in relief.
Reminiscing about the past, Hyderlin suddenly fell into deep sense of loss.
Now both of them were gone.
“…Anyway. Unlike me, whose birth process was awkward, Chesa was born without any problems. And he resembles Father much more than Mother.”
Hyderlin spoke with forced cheerfulness.
“So it’s Chesa who should become king. That’s safer for both of us siblings.”
Sarg was looking at the ground with his lips firmly closed. That serious face made Hyderlin think “oh no.”
I seem to have told an unnecessary story.
She picked up the wooden sword from the ground and sprang to her feet.
“Well, it worked out well for me too. I absolutely hate being cooped up in the castle having meetings with ministers.”
Hyderlin ambled to the center of the training ground. Then she grinned at Sarg, who was still standing under the tree’s shade.
“Shall we spar?”
Sarg looked at Hyderlin intently with gray eyes whose thoughts were hard to gauge. He who had been standing like a statue slowly moved.
Sarg picked up the wooden sword at his feet and said in an uncharacteristically spirited tone:
“I won’t hold back today. So please give your all.”
“You talk as if you’ve been holding back?”
“I have been. Didn’t you know?”
“How arrogant. Come!”
Regardless of anything else, Hyderlin enjoyed crossing swords with Sarg. A spar with full effort was always enjoyable. Every time she desperately dodged and attacked, the sadness and thoughts occupying her mind flew away one by one.
After a long spar, Hyderlin, who ultimately won, burst into laughter. It was quite funny seeing Sarg, who was always clean, dirty with dust.
At that moment, Sarg also seemed to smile faintly.
Was it an illusion?
It must be an illusion.
Hyderlin said in a voice tinged with laughter:
“You acted so confident but you lost after all.”
Hyderlin extended her hand to Sarg. Sarg, who had been dusting himself off, hesitated for a moment, then firmly grasped that hand and stood up. And as always, with a face as cold as if it would freeze at a touch, he said curtly:
“I’ll win tomorrow. So be prepared.”
“Is this you telling me to come tomorrow too?”
Instead of answering, Sarg just stared at Hyderlin intently. Somehow feeling awkward, Hyderlin scratched her sweat-soaked cheek.
Sarg, who had turned his head, ambled under the tree’s shade and just tossed her the water canteen that had been underneath.
“If you don’t feel like it, it can’t be helped.”
Hyderlin, who caught the canteen, chuckled.
“As if. I’ll come tomorrow too.”
It was late afternoon when Hyderlin finally mounted her chestnut horse. Since being called Count Biche, she had dismissed her escort and traveled alone.
Riding home alone from Kroitze Cathedral’s knight quarters, Hyderlin suddenly noticed something strange. Instead of her usual wavy-patterned sword, a practice wooden sword was hanging at her waist.
Damn it. Where is my head?
Hyderlin chuckled hollowly as she felt the wooden sword’s handle. She must have taken off the sword during sparring and meant to put it back on, but grabbed the wooden sword instead of her real sword.
It was a sword she had never once removed from her body. To forget such a thing—her mind was gone, truly gone.
Even pretending otherwise, Hyderlin had taken quite a big blow from the news of her parents’ deaths.
As she debated whether to go back to the cathedral to retrieve her sword, Hyderlin looked at the sky and gave up. The western sky was burning crimson. By the time she returned, it would be completely dark all around.
Anyway, she had to go to the cathedral tomorrow too, so she could retrieve it then while she was at it.
Having arrived at the castle, Hyderlin stopped by the stables. Only after confirming that the stable keeper was managing the horse did she go to find Chesa.
There was no answer when she knocked on the bedroom door. Hyderlin ignored the flustered king’s attendant and threw open the bedroom door.
Chesa was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head bowed. He had been in that state all day since the funeral. If work was forced on him, he handled it himself, but when he was idle, he acted like someone in a daze.
“Your Majesty.”
Chesa didn’t turn around even at Hyderlin’s call. He just sat on the edge of the bed showing only his back.
“…Chesa.”
Only then did Chesa turn around.
“Sis…ter? When did you arrive?”
Looking at his surprised face, it seemed he hadn’t deliberately ignored Hyderlin. He seemed so absorbed in grief that he hadn’t even heard the knock. Hyderlin somehow felt like crying. She struggled to gather her emotions.
“I apologize for entering without permission, Your Majesty.”
Chesa’s expression hardened slightly. Hyderlin continued regardless:
“Count Biche Hyderlin Biche. I have just returned to the palace.”
“Sister.”
“I will be absent tomorrow morning as well, so I’m reporting in advance. Your Majesty. I intend to return as quickly as possible, but if you should need me…”
“Enough with ‘Your Majesty, Your Majesty, Your Majesty!’ Stop saying Your Majesty!”
Chesa shouted. The attendant and servants were startled.
“Withdraw. I need to speak with Her Highness alone.”
The attendant and servants all withdrew and the bedroom door closed. Only Hyderlin and Chesa remained in the room.
She walked up to Chesa with firm steps. And without hesitation, she slapped him.
It didn’t hurt much because she had held back her strength. But it was shocking. Chesa, who had been struck on the cheek, looked at Hyderlin with a bewildered expression.
“What are you…”
Hyderlin said ruthlessly to her brother:
“Snap out of it. I won’t say anything about being absorbed in grief. But act like a king in front of others. Don’t show your weakness.”
Chesa glared at Hyderlin. Hyderlin, who had come close, smelled of horse, sweat, and dirt all at once. While Chesa had been stuck in the palace absorbed in grief, Hyderlin must have been out riding again.
“You reek. Just came back from fooling around with Sir Gloriosa?”
Chesa sneered while holding his burning cheek.
“Do you feel like playing with a man when your parents have passed away? Aren’t you ashamed in front of others?”
Hyderlin slapped Chesa’s cheek once more. It was a blow with much more force than before. Chesa’s head turned weakly. Even this was with held-back strength—if she’d meant it, his mouth would have burst.
Hyderlin said matter-of-factly:
“Low-quality insults aren’t even insults. If you want to crush someone, use the power you have.”
Hearing these instructive words, heat rushed to his head. Chesa glared at Hyderlin with malicious eyes.
Hyderlin couldn’t be unaffected by that gaze either. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Then I’ll take my leave. See you tomorrow.”
Hyderlin turned her back to escape her brother’s resentment. Chesa glared at that back. Seeing the wooden sword hanging at her waist instead of her real sword made him twice as angry.
“Where did you put the sword Father gave you? Are you throwing it away as soon as Father closes his eyes?”
Hyderlin didn’t answer. Chesa glared at that silent back.
Not shedding a single tear at their parents’ deaths, unable to give even a word of comfort to a brother absorbed in grief but only scolding him, carelessly throwing away what Father gave her?
How dare she.
Fine.
If that’s how it is, I’ll act exactly as sister wants.
“You told me to act like a king.”
Chesa said in cold fury:
“Count Biche. Look at me.”
Hyderlin, who had been gripping the door handle, turned to look at Chesa. Chesa glared at his sister and said in a low voice:
“From now on, you will guard my side as captain of the guard. You can’t go anywhere without my permission. Move your bedroom to the room next to mine. The official appointment will be tomorrow morning. Wait in formal attire.”
“……”
“Answer me.”
A high-handed, authoritative attitude. So she should be satisfied now. But Hyderlin was endlessly sad.
I did something terrible to you.
Today she had killed the younger brother who followed his older sister. Hyderlin answered loyally toward her king:
“Understood, Your Majesty. I will see you tomorrow morning in the audience chamber.”
The king’s face contorted.
“Leave.”
The king spat out as if telling her to get lost immediately. Having saluted toward the king who wouldn’t even look at her, Hyderlin went outside the bedroom. After telling the king’s attendant, who was anxiously pacing in front of the door, to take care of Chesa, she headed to her own bedroom.
After entering a bathtub filled with hot water and scrubbing herself clean, then changing into nightclothes, Hyderlin habitually searched for the wavy-patterned sword her father had given her. Polishing the sword once in the morning and once at night was the ritual that began and ended Hyderlin’s day.
But the sword wasn’t there.
Not performing her usual ritual made her anxious and empty.
But it couldn’t be helped. That beautiful wavy-patterned sword her father had given her wasn’t by Hyderlin’s side right now.
I should send someone to Kroitze Cathedral tomorrow to retrieve the sword.
Hyderlin lay down on the bed.
It wasn’t just the wavy-patterned sword that wasn’t by Hyderlin’s side.
Father and Mother were also gone now.
She could never see them again.
Mother. I miss you. Why aren’t you by my side? Father. Chesa hates me. I just wanted him to act like a king…
Hyderlin glared at the ceiling stained with darkness. Soundless tears formed and ran down her temples.
Did I do wrong? Was I too harsh with him? But I’m his sister and his knight. If I act soft and he becomes a weak king… Ah, what should I do? Father, Mother. I…
Hyderlin suddenly felt it was beyond control. The tears that had been flowing soundlessly poured like a waterfall. She couldn’t even cry loudly for fear the sound would leak out.
She buried her face in the pillow. And sobbed for a long time.
