Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The knight chuckled and waved his hand dismissively.

“Look here, Sir. That stuff is all garbage. It completely ruins a woman’s womb. There’s no way our Commander would feed her something like that! Do you know how harsh that medicine is? It destroys a woman’s life.”

“My goodness… What a horrible drug.”

Grita sighed deeply, looking truly dismayed.

“We must make sure it is never used.”

Stepping down from her horse, Elio hurriedly adjusted her raincoat and took a step back.

“I—I’m a woman, too!”

At her sudden outburst, Carlos raised an eyebrow and gently pulled her fallen raincoat hood back over her head.

“What are you talking about? Wear your raincoat properly.”

Her words had come out sounding completely foolish.

“It’s just that this isn’t my raincoat, so it’s way too big for me…. Anyway, entering a woman’s room without permission is your fault, Sir. Not that I have that much resentment built up against you.”

“Whose raincoat is that anyway? And are you saying you have resentment built up against me right now?”

“Do you have no conscience, Sir? How could I not have any resentment? …Though, of course, it isn’t a whole lot. And this raincoat belongs to one of the knights.”

Carlos quietly gazed at the woman, who looked almost swallowed whole by the oversized men’s clothing.

“Commander! How about a sparring match for old times’ sake? Fifteen against one! Let’s sweat off this hangover!”

At the shouts of the regular knights who had gathered after finishing their preparations, Elio raised her head. The knights grinned broadly and playfully offered a quick salute.

Seeing them act so friendly—as if they had bonded over getting dead drunk together yesterday—a breathy laugh escaped her lips. Perhaps they knew it wasn’t her fault, or perhaps they simply felt no resentment toward her despite her father sabotaging Carlos’s marriage.

…Do they already know that I’m leaving soon?

Elio stole a glance at the expressionless Carlos, then intentionally flashed a bright smile at the knights.

“Ah, hello! Did you sleep well? How are your stomachs feeling after drinking so much yesterday?”

“Go inside. We’re about to train.”

Regardless of whether Elio spoke cheerfully or not, Carlos accepted a shirt handed to him by a squire and dismissed her as if shooing away a bothersome insect.

“Grita. Did you get the swords sharpened at the blacksmith’s?”

Carlos lightly nudged Elio toward the annex and began casually sifting through the squires’ swords, which had been sharpened enough to cut a finger at the slightest touch. Frowning slightly, Elio stole a peek at a sword sized for boys.

“S—Sir. I could handle a sword about that size, too…”

“What are you doing? I told you to go inside.”

At Carlos’s cold urging, Elio’s teal eyes narrowed into a sharp glare.

“Yes. I will bring the rest of the swords tomorrow. Everyone, come over here. Change your clothes and fall into formation.”

“Commander! Should we include the squires, too? Twenty against one? Hey, where do you kids think you’re running off to?!”

Elio turned her head away abruptly as she watched the regular knights crowd around to tease the squires, and Grita laughing while trying to restore order.

“I told you to go inside.”

She turned to face the man who kept pushing her back and spoke every word clearly.

“Fine! I’ll head inside now since I can’t bear to watch you embarrass yourself, Sir! Well, I suppose everyone loses sometimes.”

Carlos, who was rolling his left shoulder, paused in confusion for a moment, raising his eyebrows as he failed to grasp her meaning right away. Looking at the blushing woman, he let out a sharp laugh and shook out his wet hair.

“You think I’m going to lose?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you believed in me.”

“No! I don’t.”

When Elio turned around coldly to walk toward the annex, he caught her by the wrist.

“Why are you sulking?”

“Who’s sulking? I’m not sulking at all.”

“Commander, when are we starting?! If you’re going to keep playing around with the lady, should we just start on our own?”

Carlos stripped off his upper garment in one swift motion. He pulled a thin cotton shirt over his head all at once and cracked his thick neck.

When Elio blushed and took a step backward, Carlos twitched his eyebrow and grabbed her wrist once again.

“Stay and watch.”

The rain grew heavier, turning the ground into a muddy mess.

Unable to even wipe the mud splattered on her hand, Elio stood frozen like a shocked baby owl, blinking her large eyes.

Can knights really spar in such a rough and unruly way?

The sight of muscular men tangling together bare-handed was no different from a brutal street fight between alley mercenaries—or rather, fighting dogs.

Elio’s anxious eyes tracked a single, uniquely towering man among them.

They tackled, threw, and slammed one another to the ground until, before long, burst after burst of laughter, groans, jeers, and cheers filled the air.

“Woah, Commander! You’re being way too brutal today!”

The sweltering heat and the smell of sweat mingled with the pouring rain. Amidst the burly, mud-covered men sprawling on the ground and catching their rough breaths with chuckles—

The largest mud figure of them all stood tall. Wiping the mud from his neck, he stared intently at her.

Seeing the man covered in mud down to his toes, the corners of Elio’s mouth twitched. As her eyes met his raised eyebrows, she turned on her heel and fled toward the stables.

Sitting huddled at the base of a pillar in the stables, Elio stole a glance at Carlos’s face, who had pursued her as if chasing down a thief.

“Ahahaha!”

She clutched her stomach again and burst into laughter.

Clear, ringing laughter echoed softly through the cool, rushing sound of the rain.

“Ahahaha!”

Carlos let out a dry chuckle as he watched Elio. She was laughing so hard that her cheeks were flushed pink, and bright tears glistened in her sparkling eyes.

“How long are you going to keep laughing?”

“No… it’s just… your appearance, Sir…”

Elio wiped away the tear hanging at the corner of her eye, her face red, as she looked up at Carlos’s mud-splattered face.

“I came back after winning, and all you do is laugh.”

Carlos sat down heavily beside her, his voice low and raspy. Elio instantly stopped laughing.

Flinching at the man who had turned his head away, she quickly tugged at the hem of his sleeve.

“I—I wasn’t laughing at you to be mean.”

Carlos turned his gaze back to the woman who was nervously pulling at his clothes.

“It’s because I’m happy. Truly. Even if there were a hundred opponents, I knew you would win, Sir! Do you always spar like this every morning? No wonder… you were amazingly fast…!”

She pulled his sleeve and whispered eagerly. But when he remained stoically silent, she immediately began shuffling her hips backward, looking ready to bolt.

Watching the rabbit’s quick retreat as she tried to escape him, Carlos clicked his tongue, slowly leaned his large body forward, and tilted his cheek toward her.

“I wiped your face with my own hands.”

“Pardon?”

Tapping his cheek, he offered a faint, teasing smirk to the huddled rabbit.

“The mud. Are you just going to leave it there?”

Elio’s face instantly crumpled into a scowl.

Holding the handkerchief he handed her, her hand trembled softly as she had no choice but to comply. She hesitated before carefully wiping his cheek, the sound of her swallowing her saliva ringing loudly in her ears.

Every time her hand wavered near his lips, a sense of petty mischief flared up inside her. Just because she laughed a little, this man was deliberately flustering her again.

“Did that woman never teach you how to ride a horse?”

His eyes were fixed straight on her. Avoiding his gaze, Elio focused only on his sharply defined jawline.

“No. I didn’t have a horse. My sister had one, but whenever I tried to ride it, the horse hated it so much that I never could.”

“There were no horses in the Count’s estate?”

“My father had them. Not me. Perhaps he was afraid I might ride off and escape, so my father never even allowed me to step foot into the stables.”

A faint smile drifted across Elio’s lips.

Carlos quietly observed her eyes curved in a soft smile.

“Now I can go anywhere! I was actually worried about how I’d leave when it was time to depart from Schpenhart.”

Elio continued with a bright smile. Carlos slowly let the corners of his mouth curve upward.

“You don’t even know how to ride.”

“I can practice! I might be a bit slow at learning things, but I’m a total hard worker!”

Every time she spoke, her flushed cheeks moved busily.

“How much does a horse usually cost? Is it very expensive…?”

“It’s expensive.”

“How much?”

“Ten million shillings.”

Though, of course, there are ones for a hundred thousand shillings.

Elio stopped wiping his cheek and blinked her eyes wide in shock.

“By any chance… when we part ways… is there no such thing as a farewell gift? Like… a horse…?”

Carlos gently cupped Elio’s chin and lifted her face toward his.

“My, aren’t you quite bold, Lady?”

With a reddened face, Elio licked her dry lips and shifted her gaze toward the pillar.

“I have to leave the territory after we separate anyway, so what am I supposed to do if horses are that expensive? It’s not like I can walk all the way.”

Carlos chuckled softly and took the handkerchief from her hand.

“Don’t people usually think about taking a carriage?”

“I think riding a horse sounds much more fun. You get to take in all kinds of scenery!”

Elio looked up at the eaves, her teal eyes shining brightly.

Swoooosh. The rain thickened again, bringing with it the rich scent of wet grass.

Carlos rested his arms on his knees, leaning his face on them as he watched Elio.

She stared at the clear droplets of rain as if they were precious gems, her eyes sparkling with vibrant life.

The woman reached her small hand out into the rain, fidgeting for a long while before she began closely inspecting the tiny weeds and pebbles on the ground.

Carlos let out a quiet chuckle.

“What? Was looking at me not interesting enough?”

“What?”

Elio absentmindedly pulled up a water-soaked weed by its roots.

“You were scanning me so intently back in the carriage….”

The corners of his lips curved up lazily.

“Was the view not to your liking?”

He looked down at his own chest and thighs in turn before raising his eyes back to her.

Following his gaze, Elio unwittingly scanned his solid, powerful body—and instantly caught her breath.

Drip, drip. Drops of water fell from his dark hair, trailing down his thick, long neck and sliding between his broad chest muscles.

Elio stared blankly at the falling water droplets.

“Guess it wasn’t to your liking.”

Elio’s face turned as red as a cooked sausage, and she shouted frantically:

“When did I ever scan you, Sir?!”

“Ah. You didn’t?”

Carlos let out a subtle laugh and slowly straightened his back. He ran a hand through his wet hair, shaking it off.

“When are you going to show me the purification?”