“Speaking of which, you can’t wield Eckesachs unless you’re trained in hand-to-hand combat, right? I always thought you learned your style from the marshal, but it seems a bit different from how most knights fight.”
“Oh, the old man isn’t from Bern. He’s from Barlefeldt.”
“The Barlefeldt Kingdom? The one still under the protection of the dragons?! I’ve heard that while the people there can barely use magic, they’re born with incredible physical strength, and that the royals are practically immortal.”
The story goes that the goddess created dragons to punish humans when they started slaying monsters using the sacred weapons she forged from her right arm. As the legend tells it, she tore off her left arm and used that to bring dragons into being.
Since the people of Barlefeldt carry traces of the dragons’ power in their blood, they’re one of the few nations respected by the Egrich Empire, which reveres the goddess and sees the dragons as divine beings.
Apparently, their crown prince inherited even more of that draconic lineage and turned out to be extremely wild. If Lord Barnabash was anything like that prince, I understood why people would be worried.
I heard that he had recently married the Archduchess of Vilde, but, because of his dragon blood, had been causing all sorts of trouble. Perhaps every nation had its own share of chaos when it came to rearing the next generation, just like Majaar.
However, Bern’s transition of power was pretty calm, since we already had Leon as our crown prince, and Lucas, as the second prince, had been flattening any noble who dared to complain. It was peaceful, in a sense. I’m just going to pretend I don’t notice how unbalanced that power dynamic is. Cooperation between princes is the most important thing.
Still, when you think about it, on one hand, the Goddess gave sacred swords to slay divine beasts, and on the other hand, she created divine beasts so humans wouldn’t take over the surface. Her mercy ran deep, perhaps too deep for humans to ever understand.
All we can do is keep moving forward, like Lucas does.
“That old man… It’s hard to believe there was anyone he couldn’t beat with a sword, but apparently, when he fought the former king of Barlefeldt, every time he stabbed the guy, the wound would close right up. Since they couldn’t settle it with swords, they switched to hand-to-hand combat, and that’s where he learned a bunch of techniques for breaking the human body efficiently. Apparently, even choking him out didn’t work, so it turned into an all-out brawl.”
His golden eyes filled with admiration, glittering as he looked up at the sky, while his words painted a picture so bloody, my face nearly twitched.
His eagerness is veering into terrifying territory. Is he seriously wondering if the guy really couldn’t die? If Lucas ever runs into that dragon-blooded prince from Barlefeldt, it’s going to be a disaster.
“Ohh, so did you visit the bazaar with Marshal Webber too?”
“We didn’t visit. He dragged me around by the scruff of my neck.”
Lucas got hauled around like a kitten. That sounded pretty rough, but I was curious to see it.
“There’s a coliseum past the blacksmiths, just like in Bern. You can try out anything you buy there. It’s a bit of a walk, though.”
He glanced down at my feet, as if to see if I could keep walking, and I gave him a reassuring smile. My new shoes were a little stiff, and I was tiring faster than I normally would, but I still wanted to walk and chat with him a while longer. And speaking of coliseums, I remembered Marshal Webber showed up at the one in Kastel-Kues and caused quite a commotion…
“Don’t tell me he did the same thing here,” I said.
“Yeah, he’s pretending to be calm now, but Andreas goes wild when combat and booze are on the table. He spent entire days fighting in that arena. They started calling him the General or some weird nickname like that.”
So he went and made a legend of himself in another country, just like he did in Bern?! Sounds like master and apprentice share the same kind of wild streak…
“What about you, Lukie?”
“…”
I leaned in to peek at his face, but he quietly looked away, which only made me lean in closer.
“You fought against the marshal and the others, too, didn’t you? I want to know what happened.”
There was no way that Marshal Webber would let Lucas just sit on the sidelines, and knowing how stubborn Lucas was, there’s no way he would have been satisfied with just watching.
Sure enough, my hardworking husband flushed with frustration, or maybe even embarrassment.
“I didn’t drop my sword, and I didn’t lose to anyone but my damn master. I mean, I couldn’t beat Andreas at the time, but I did after. I’m not someone who leaves a fight unfinished.”
He didn’t drop his sword, huh? He still remembers that practice match from when we first met…
From the sound of it, whoever went up against Lucas back then probably got a proper rematch down the line and lost. That made sense, considering how quickly he climbed the ranks to Vice Captain of his order, where the knights were judged by merit alone.
And that’s how we got here.
“If you hadn’t taken the marshal’s training seriously, and if you hadn’t kept pushing forward no matter what, I might not have found the strength to try being a princess.”
“I really went through hell, but hearing that makes it worth it.”
The way he said it, with his face all twisted like he had just swallowed a bitter bug, I knew he meant it.
But if I told him how his eyes sparkled like a child’s every time he talked about those memories, I wonder what his eyes would reveal then. I think those memories, whether he realized it or not, were dear to him. They were far more fun and important than he probably realized.
After all, they were what shaped the kind, sincere Lucas standing here now.
“I mean, I’m grateful that it made me stronger.”
I squeezed his hand tighter, and he did the same, still wearing that reluctant grimace.
“He heh. Judging by that face, you’ve never actually told Marshal Webber that, have you?”
“Why the hell would I?”
“I don’t think you need to say it. I’m sure he already knows, but I bet he’d be over the moon if you actually told him.”
“What do you really think about that damn master of mine, anyway?” He looked so confused when he asked that, and I had to pause and think about it for a while. Then I glanced up at him.
Maybe because they’d been master and student for so long, Lucas and the marshal had the same quiet, reassuring presence. All they had to do was stand there, and it calmed people down.
Neither of them cared much about their own appearance, but when it came to swords, they were deadly serious. They both had a relentless drive to improve and an almost childish resistance to being deterred. They even had the same bad habits. It was almost like they were father and son.
I thought Lucas’s manners probably came from his blood father, Duke Herbst. But what lay at his actual core, what made him the man he was, felt like an even mixture of the duke and the marshal.
“Hmm… I guess you could say he’s the person who gave me the chance to meet my knight. I owe him a lot in that sense. So when we’re back in Bern, we should go pay him a visit together, okay?” I said with a bright smile, but my beloved husband scrunched his brows begrudgingly and nodded.
“I’ll think about it.”
Wow. He says that but grabs his hilt like he’s bracing himself for another one of the marshal’s childish comebacks. It always drives him nuts when the marshal calls him “little Lukie.” If the two of them ever faced off, the royal palace might actually get destroyed.
As I was thinking that, Lucas suddenly brushed his knuckle against my cheek, right next to my lips, and I jumped a little.
“Nngh, wh-what are you doing?”
“You’ve got such a big smile on your face. What were you imagining, my dear Cecilia?”
Wait, is it obvious how much I enjoy hearing about his past?!
“I-I’m not imagining anything! It’s just fun, walking and talking like this.”
Just saying it made me realize how happy I was, and my chest got all warm and tingly.
“Is it fun? Are you happy?” he asked, but I thought he already knew the answer.
“Y-yeah, I’m really happy.”
“Good.”
We stopped walking at the exact same time, almost like we’d planned it, and I let his fingertips touch my lips. Heat bloomed against them, so gentle I couldn’t take it anymore.