2.

The man didn’t seem entirely convinced by Count Zellered’s words.

“…Is something the matter with His Majesty?”

For the first time, an emotion flickered across Leo Fric’s normally inscrutable face. His icy expression softened with a hint of suspicion and concern.

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Leo Fric was a knight of unbreakable loyalty. It was that unwavering devotion that had enabled him to propel Wintran and the Kingdom of Thornfeld to the pinnacle of the continent’s might.

“Nothing of the sort. His Majesty is in excellent health. He simply did not deem it necessary to come himself.”

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The count’s nonchalant tone grated on Leo Fric, who tilted his head slightly, irritation simmering beneath his cool facade. Meeting Zellered was already a disappointment, and now the count’s insolent manner only added fuel to the fire.

“…I tolerated stationing my knights outside the estate and even allowed myself to be unarmed because His Majesty summoned me here.”

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“…”

“So, would you kindly enlighten me on exactly what’s going on here?”

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Leo Fric’s tone held a semblance of respect, though barely. His eyes were deeply shadowed, while his mouth curved into a faint, mocking smile.

He had come all this way to speak with the king, only to find Zellered in his place. If this continued, it would mean that this audacious count had used the king’s name to call him here on his own accord.

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“You’ll need a good reason for this, Count.”

* * *

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So this was the source of his strange foreboding.

Leo Fric maintained his smile as he mentally reviewed the unfolding situation and considered his options.

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The letter he’d received not long ago had undoubtedly been in the king’s handwriting.

[Apologies for keeping you waiting so long. Before you enter the capital, there is a matter I must discuss with you. Let’s meet at a small fief near the capital.]

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There hadn’t been any substantial details, which might have been reasonable if the king were concerned about the letter falling into the wrong hands.

Still, an unsettling chill had prickled at the back of Leo Fric’s neck. He wasn’t one to ignore such feelings—it was likely the reason he was still alive.

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‘Investigate the one who delivered the letter.’

He had even gone so far as to have his spies check the capital for any suspicious movements among the nobles within the palace.

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The rational conclusion, after accounting for all factors, was that there was no significant cause for alarm. None of the Knights’ Corps officers or even the vice-commander had uncovered any basis for concern.

Furthermore, the option of not going was never on the table.

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Even if the instructions had been for him to leave his knights some distance from the baron’s estate and enter alone.

He wanted to see how far King Wintran would honor the promises made during the war, and as his cousin, he wanted to ensure Wintran’s safety.

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In this fortified kingdom his cousin had worked so hard to strengthen, was he able to enact his will as he’d hoped? Had he succeeded in curbing the influence of the powerful high nobles?

‘What is truly happening here?’

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With these thoughts circling in his mind, Leo Fric looked down at the count seated before him, silently demanding an answer.

“I see you hope for some grand conspiracy,” Zellered remarked with a smile, “but it’s simply that His Majesty entrusted this meeting to me. Perhaps… it’s a sign that His Majesty no longer wishes to spend time on you.”

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Zellered’s smile was sly as he spoke.

“And coming from the very man entangled in the incidents where my letters went missing during the war. You expect me to believe my cousin, fully aware of my distrust for you, would send you as his representative?”

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“Perhaps it’s a clear sign of who he trusts more.”

Leo Fric’s smile grew colder, nearly mocking. A dangerous energy filled the room, and the knights stationed around Zellered tensed, instinctively readying themselves.

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“…I see we have nothing further to discuss, Count. I’ll be on my way.”

“You should listen to His Majesty’s words.”

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“I will hear them directly from him.”

Leo Fric turned his back on the count, signaling that he had nothing more to say. He had come here to meet the king, not Zellered.

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“Stop him.”

Armed knights quickly moved to block Leo Fric’s path, and at some point, the heavy doors had been shut. Standing before him, the knights couldn’t fully mask their unease as they placed hands on their weapons, prepared to oppose him.

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Leo Fric looked down at them, his low voice resonating as he spoke, the faintest shadow of a smile gracing his lips.

A bitter chuckle escaped him.

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“So, now that I am separated from my knights and unarmed, you think you’ve set a trap for me?”

With a casual flick, he unbuttoned the collar of his crisp formal attire.

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“How vexing.”

He folded his arms and leisurely unbuttoned the cuff around his wrist before continuing.

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“Now, where should I begin to clear up that little misunderstanding?”

Beneath the perfectly tailored formal attire, which fit Leo Fric’s frame like a glove, the tightly coiled muscles in his arms and shoulders seemed ready to pounce on the knights before him at any moment.

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“If I thought I couldn’t leave, I wouldn’t have come in the first place.”

A playful smile touched his lips.

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“If you’re so eager, go ahead and try.”

A subtle hint of red seemed to flicker around his blue-grey eyes, betraying a swirl of anger, sharp irritation, and a broader concern within him.

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At the core of his heart, a deep unease took root, something he couldn’t acknowledge or understand.

Could it really be that Wintran, his cousin, had changed his mind?

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He shook his head slightly before that uncertainty could solidify. His arms dropped in an unguarded, almost casual manner.

Despite the murkiness of the situation, his course of action was clear. If he wanted answers, he’d have to go out and find them himself. He was leaving.

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“Please calm yourself. Do you truly intend to raise a hand against His Majesty’s knights?”

“If you’re worried, then you’d do best to ask them to step aside.”

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His voice was cold as he retorted, flexing his hands slowly, as if loosening them for what might come.

“Perhaps you misunderstood—I wasn’t here to exchange pleasantries,” Zellered replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I am here to deliver an official order, Sir Leo Fric.”

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From the corner of the room, a servant approached with a silver tray, holding it out to the count. Zellered tapped the tray, revealing a thick, luxurious scroll, carefully rolled and sealed on fine white silk.

Two seals adorned it, one in red and another in gold.

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The sight of the golden seal, an indicator of the highest importance, brought a slight hardening to Leo Fric’s expression.

So, this wasn’t a conversation from the start.

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If that was the case, the order could have simply been sent. Why make him come all this way to receive it in person? Leo Fric’s brow furrowed at the peculiarity of it. Clearly, this had been orchestrated to create a misunderstanding, to toy with him up to this very moment.

“Sir Leo Fric Helton, receive your royal command.”

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Leo’s gaze deepened, and after a moment’s hesitation, he slowly knelt on one knee. There was no choice but to listen to the command before him.

“In recognition of Sir Helton’s distinguished service in the war, a countship is granted.”

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“…”

“Additionally, though it may hardly befit your greatness, the estate of Smertha is bestowed upon you.”

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It was a harsh land, mountainous and barren, seized from the defeated Ledetian Empire.

A slight tension clenched in Leo Fric’s jaw.

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With each word, the promises once made between him and King Wintran seemed to shatter into fragments.

Was this truly his cousin’s will?

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“And lastly, for the lifelong peace and happiness of the kingdom’s great hero and my beloved cousin, Leo Fric Helton…”

Zellered’s voice continued, each word carrying an unsettling weight.

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“A bride shall be given to him.”

“…”

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What is this?

Leo Fric instinctively lifted his head, looking forward with a mixture of disbelief and irritation. Count Zellered, undeterred, continued reading from the royal command.

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“Since Smertha is newly conquered territory, we have selected the most suitable person to serve as your bride, one who will ensure its seamless subjugation. Thus, accept this order immediately to solidify the peace we have achieved.”

With a casual gesture, the count dropped the command onto the silver tray.

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“Sir Leo Fric Helton. Do you accept this command?”

Alongside the document, the tray bore a pen and a pot of ink, ready for his signature, clearly meant to pressure him into compliance without room for thought.

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Leo Fric stood up in one fluid motion, feeling his heart grow colder. The command felt like an outright attempt to exile him from the kingdom he had risked his life to bring glory to.

Once again.

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As it had happened before, in the previous generation—and now, to him.

“…Leo Fric Helton accepts His Majesty’s command.”

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He closed his eyes briefly, suppressing the storm of emotions within him.

He would take the command, leave this place, and seek counsel with his trusted knights. There had to be a way to navigate this.

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There would be time before the command required full execution.

“Very well. Then let us make preparations immediately.”

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“…?”

“For Sir Leo Fric’s wedding night,” Zellered replied smoothly, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

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“A wedding night ceremony will ensure the validity of your betrothal. Exchange vows with your bride, formally securing the engagement. As for the actual wedding, you may plan it at your leisure, in consultation with her.”

It was as if Zellered anticipated Leo Fric might try to delay the command and was already one step ahead.

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