6.

Count Zellered took a step back—three steps would be more accurate.

The command would be suspended until the woman’s identity was confirmed for security purposes. For this, Leo Fric’s side would move within the fortress, allowing members of his order to come and go freely. The surrounding troops would not follow, and Leo Fric and Jinpetsu would have their weapons returned.

To handle the matter with gravity, Leo Fric also made it clear that he would formally request an audience with King Wintran, vowing to find those responsible and ensure they paid the price.

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Grinding his teeth, the Count begrudgingly accepted the terms, taking some comfort in not having the entire knight order brought into his estate. Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the one being surrounded. Only the knowledge of nearby reinforcements gave him any peace of mind.

“Well, it worked.”

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His bluff had succeeded. With Jinpetsu’s sudden intrusion still fresh in his mind, Zellered couldn’t shake the thought that more knights might be hidden somewhere. Thus, he quickly backed down.

“Pick an appropriate escort and bring them.”

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“Are you sure you’ll be fine alone?”

Leo Fric silently pointed to the sword that had been returned to him. Jinpetsu sighed quietly.

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“I really should have brought more men from the start.”

“Who could’ve predicted this?”

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No one had.

King Wintran. Leo Fric could not fathom why his cousin had issued such inexplicable orders.

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There was much he needed to uncover.

“Will you leave that wound as it is?”

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“Oh.”

He glanced at the wound on his left hand—a clean puncture, though it hadn’t hit bone. The wound was already clotting, with no more blood seeping out.

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“It’s just a scratch.”

“If it’s bothersome, I’ll summon a healer or doctor.”

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“No need. I think if I make one more demand of the baron today, he might truly collapse from exhaustion.”

With a faint, wry smile, Leo Fric shook his head. The beleaguered baron, eyes wide at everything that had transpired, had barely managed to stammer, “It’s an honor to host the hero. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask,” before retreating.

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“The bride… no, that woman…”

The word “bride” made Leo Fric’s brow furrow slightly. Noticing this, Jinpetsu quickly corrected himself. The silver-haired knight raised a brow and responded.

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“You think I’d let myself be taken down by a girl like that?”

Jinpetsu dared not answer.

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Instead, he merely cast a sidelong glance at Leo Fric’s left hand, still sporting a fresh hole.

“…Twice? In a single day?”

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“…”

Jinpetsu sighed softly as Leo Fric tried to justify himself.

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He considered using one of the baron’s servants as a messenger, but Leo Fric dismissed the idea.

“I don’t trust them.”

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Even if the baron’s people had no intention of disrupting the message, there was no guarantee the messenger would safely cross the encircling troops. Who knew what might happen along the way?

After some hesitation, Jinpetsu, unable to shake his concern, left with a promise to return quickly.

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Left alone, Leo Fric traced patterns on the ceiling with his eyes, lost in thought.

Without many questions, Jinpetsu departed—his silent way of showing thoughtfulness.

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It was likely his way of giving Leo Fric time to gather his thoughts before the upcoming meeting with everyone.

Leo Fric slowly mulled over the details of Wintran’s decree.

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A countship, the former Ledetian Empire’s territory of Sumertha, and… a bride.

In essence, the command seemed straightforward.

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Sumertha was one of the border territories absorbed into the Thornfeld Kingdom after the war. The border areas, where boundaries had shifted, naturally held inherent risks, hence the decree for Leo Fric to become the Marquis of the frontier and defend it.

Naturally, the local populace might still feel more allegiance to the Ledetian Empire. There could even be potential for rebellion. Thus, placing someone as symbolically strong as a “hero” there was a logical move.

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Leo Fric didn’t deny he was well-suited for the role. However…

…a bride.

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Princess Ateira Ledetian.

Sending her as his bride, beloved by her empire’s people, would serve as a powerful symbol of unity. The cherished princess, once an honored priestess of Akalem, would return to the disquieted borderlands to bless her people and live happily among them—a beautiful fairy tale that anyone, young or old, would find captivating.

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On a pragmatic level, placing her with him near the border also served as bait for those who might seek to restore the Ledetian Empire.

“…Efficient.”

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What was peculiar about this efficient plan was that Wintran had never handled Leo Fric efficiently.

When the former Duke Helton was stripped of his title, all of their vast lands were confiscated. The high nobles approved of the previous king’s decision, as it offered them more personal gain and allowed them to avoid falling out of favor with the crown.

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The Helton family was left with a meager estate near the border, much like a wounded beast retreating to its den.

A small, desolate land, neglected by most, even plagued by frequent monster attacks, leaving barely any subjects behind.

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The once-great house faded, and for a time, it was fodder for gossip until it was forgotten.

The high nobles offered no aid to the fallen Helton family, even when the former Duke passed, leaving behind only a pretty, young boy. Only a few loyal retainers remained at his side.

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Then, when Leo Fric’s life was at its most precarious…

…the only one who reached out was his cousin, Wintran, who had just become the crown prince.

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Wintran helped him quietly, and as Leo Fric’s reputation as a knight grew, he began to actively employ him.

He endured the jealousy of the high nobles and accepted the inevitable backlash.

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How could he not love Wintran and be loyal to him?

‘Leo.’

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In his memory, Wintran wasn’t the imposing figure on the battlefield, but a calm man with fair hair, looking almost serene.

‘This is the last battle.’

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A strong hand gripped his shoulder.

‘Once we return, you’ll remain my sword, won’t you?’

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‘Why say something so sappy before the war is even over, Your Majesty?’

Embarrassed, Leo scratched his neck, and as if sensing his discomfort, Wintran chuckled, giving him a few hearty slaps on the back.

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‘Haha! But I’d hate to use you solely as a sword.’

‘Am I not giving my all? You’re more demanding than when we were young, Your Majesty.’

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‘That’s what it means to be a ruler. Speaking of which…’

With a serious gleam in his eye, Wintran continued.

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‘Leo, once this war ends, enter the capital as a triumphant general. I’ll restore your title, and you’ll regain Helton’s lands.’

‘…It won’t be easy.’

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The nobles would hardly welcome it. The envy, jealousy, and covert sabotage they already exhibited would only intensify.

They would undoubtedly do their utmost to sway Wintran. He could think of several noble families, including the Duke of Yulvia and Count Zellered, who would stand against such a restoration.

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Who among the prestigious nobles would celebrate the return of an old noble family with whom they’d have to share power?

‘You’ve made it easier with your achievements, so it’ll be fine. Persuasion is my responsibility. I could even shout at them, “You’d be headless if not for him!”’

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His king chuckled softly.

‘And one more thing…’

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‘…’

‘How about marrying Princess Freya?’

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Wintran’s half-sister, Princess Freya—a suggestion that left Leo staring wide-eyed in shock.

‘Return as my family.’

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Wintran’s voice was warm, and Leo felt a deep heat welling up in his chest.

That was then.

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On that day, the Ledetian capital had fallen.

The Black Wolf Knights, at the forefront of the Thornfeld forces, shattered the defenses and played a critical role in capturing numerous royals.

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It was assumed that the missing royals hadn’t escaped the flames engulfing the capital.

The war ended, and the Thornfeld army returned triumphantly, led by Wintran, the “King of Spring.”

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Since then, Leo Fric hadn’t seen Wintran.

And today, he received orders from the cousin who had once asked him to “return as family,” commanding him, as the “King’s Sword,” to depart.

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He wondered if this was truly Wintran’s own intention.

If not, then… was Wintran himself safe?

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Without realizing it, his hand tightened, causing a sharp pain in his wounded left hand.

Reclining, he raised his hand to examine the crimson wound, as if replaying the earlier scene. In his mind’s eye, a pair of burning red eyes overlapped with it.

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Pure, unwavering enmity.

As he grasped her pale, frail arm that aimed to stab him with her hair ornament, he felt the fierce pulse beating at his fingertips.

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He was momentarily unsure if it was his own heartbeat or that of this woman, so filled with enmity.

 

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