— After the Marquis — Neril's eyes widened with surprise.
"No. He agreed."
"We have arranged to establish housing for the retired soldiers within the royal castle."
"Ha."
Only then did Neril release the breath she had been holding.
Her teacher was an all-or-nothing man—someone who would not yield his convictions even with a blade pressed to his throat.
She had expected the Princess to fail.
"Do you wish to say goodbye before we depart?"
Medea gestured over her shoulder. The door to the Marquis's office remained firmly closed.
Neril shook her head.
"He doesn't want to see me. And we must return to the palace before dinner."
— The Courtyard — "Your Royal Highness, the carriage you arrived in appeared somewhat damaged, so we have prepared a replacement. Please, this way."
Perhaps having received word from the Marquis, the butler guided Medea with considerably more warmth than before.
At first glance, the carriage hitched to fresh horses appeared to be an ordinary four-wheeled vehicle.
However, closer inspection revealed exterior plating of thin steel and wheels reinforced with iron.
Built for survival, not comfort.
"The carriage has changed, but your coachman remains the same. I shall deliver you safely to the palace—not even a speck of dust will touch Your Highness."
Tom spoke while leaning against the carriage. Neril strode toward him.
With her back to the Princess, she seized his collar with one hand and drove her fist into his solar plexus.
"Oof—!"
"Disappear. Do not approach me again."
"Tsk. I rather like that... sorry to disappoint you, friend."
Tom had to grit his teeth behind his forced smile. What did the royal family feed their people to become so monstrous?
He concentrated fiercely on keeping his knees from buckling before the Princess.
"You think I don't know you drove recklessly on purpose?"
As Neril glared, Tom raised his hands in surrender.
"Did I do it because I wanted to? I don't enjoy offending nobility unnecessarily."
"My teacher ordered you to do this?"
"The moment either you or the Princess emerged from that carriage to confront me, they would have been turned away immediately."
Neril's blood ran cold.
It had all been a test.
Had she descended to strike Tom, or forcibly silenced the soldiers, today's meeting would have been cancelled entirely.
Had the Princess known? Was that why she had stopped her?
Tom laughed at Neril's speechless expression.
"Did you imagine our teacher was someone anyone could meet simply by requesting? How naive."
"'Anyone'? How dare you speak of Valdina's bloodline as 'anyone'?"
"You're exactly like a mother hen guarding her chicks. Though I admit things have shifted considerably from before."
Tom added casually:
"Well, I suppose I should relay what matters. The Master mentioned earlier—"
"It wasn't a foolish choice, taking the Princess as your lord."
"What?"
Neril's head turned sharply toward the tower where the Marquis's chamber would be.
Beside the purple curtain, she thought she glimpsed a familiar silhouette.
"So what can I do when even the Master approves? I'll make amends for my earlier behaviour and serve as faithful coachman. Hey! Where are you going!"
Neril had already turned and sprinted toward the residence.
"Your Highness, please wait a moment!"
— The Study — She took the stairs two and three at a time. The stone steps rose so steeply that her breath came in gasps almost immediately—but Neril did not slow.
She burst through the mahogany door and rushed down the corridor. Familiar curtains, furniture, and carpets greeted her like old friends.
"Hah... M-Master..."
Gilliforth turned slowly from the window. His sigh carried a hint of resigned laughter.
"Child, your short temper has not changed at all."
"Ma—hah—Master, I made my choice."
"Is that why you came running here? To hear those words from this old man's mouth directly?"
A flicker of anger crossed Gilliforth's weathered features.
"N-no."
Neril caught her breath, looked up, and grinned fiercely.
"My weapon that I entrusted to you—I am reclaiming it."
"You still remember our wager, don't you?"
⚔️ She strode forward purposefully, then retrieved her greatsword from where it hung on the wall.
"Stay healthy, Master. Until we meet again."
"Troublesome child."
The Marquis waved his hand dismissively, as though to hurry her out before his composure wavered.
— Years Ago — "You're abandoning knighthood to become the Princess's maid? Have you lost your mind?"
She had been his beloved disciple. Which made it even more incomprehensible.
"Is it Her Highness? What useless notions has she planted in your head? Do you think I trained you to die like a dog because of factional politics?"
"There is no one else for Her Highness the Princess right now except me. I want to protect her, Master. Please allow it."
"The moment you walk through that door, you are neither my disciple nor my knight!"
"If you insist on going to the Princess, leave your sword behind and go empty-handed."
"Master!"
"You will never wield it again unless I acknowledge you worthy."
The Marquis, reminiscing on the past, shook his head.
"You were always so stubborn. You actually threw it down and left, just as I commanded you."
He looked down through the window at the departing carriage.
"Neril, you surpass me."
His disciple could perceive stars even in mud, while he could not.
After the late King's death, he had lost hope.
Hope of raising Valdina into a powerful nation again—exhausted by the hyenas obsessed with power, he had relinquished everything.
He had despaired that the stars would never rise again.
The stubbornness and foolishness of recent years suddenly seemed refreshing.
Perhaps it was he who had been truly foolish.
Yet fortunately—
"I am Princess of Valdina. I simply must do what a Princess must do."
"God has not abandoned this country yet."
Because Valdina's light continued to burn.
A faint smile touched Gilliforth's face as he watched the departing carriage.
— Several Days Later — Marquis Gilliforth sent word through Neril. The message included matters related to the preliminary plans—notably, the proposed location was near the castle ramparts.
"I suspect he intends to utilise them for the castle's defence if necessary."
A soldier's instincts.
"Neril, tell the Master to compile a list of all veterans in residence. Everything—including their families."
That way, they would not even consider joining the rebels.
Though Medea was spending all her resources to support their livelihoods, she held no illusions about their loyalty.
Because humans tended to forget kindness once their bellies were full.
"Strictly speaking, retired soldiers are the royal family's responsibility, yet Your Highness is depleting your entire fortune to aid them..."
Neril could not hide her dissatisfaction.
"Are you worried I shall end up destitute?"
"Honestly, I think it is a terrible investment. You're pouring water into a bottomless vessel."
Medea laughed softly at Neril's rare display of complaint.
"I am a Princess with a cursed name—I can hardly become more wretched than I already am."
"You would rather see me bankrupt than Valdina collapse, would you not?"
The light remark carried bitter undertones, and Neril hesitated.
The Princess treated herself as kindling that could be burned at any moment for Valdina's sake.
It was as though Her Highness owed some immense debt to this country...
A desperate urgency that transcended the simple patriotism royalty typically possessed.
Neril could not understand what drove her young mistress to such extremes.
"If Your Highness goes bankrupt, I shall take care of you."
This was all she could manage to offer.
"Ahaha."
Light laughter dissolved gently beneath the sunlight.
"Very well—then I shall live with Neril, agreed?"
Why did that faint smile somehow pierce her heart?
— Return to the Palace — It was when Medea entered the palace grounds that a waiting maid approached.
"What is the matter?"
"Her Highness Duchess Claudio is waiting inside."
---