Chapter 58:
Saviz, Younger Brother of the King
“I’LL BE PROTECTING YOU from the queen dowager?”
No matter how you looked at them, Saviz was definitely stronger than Hyacinthe. I cocked my head, confused.
“Fia, it is my understanding that you tend to forget conversations you have while intoxicated. I, on the other hand, do not.”
“Huh?” His strange statement left me bewildered, and I blinked a few times before catching on. “O-oh, wow, your memory is very good, but I can’t help but notice you’re implying I would be so discourteous as to forget one of my precious conversations with you! Oh no, no, no. I simply value the words you share with me so dearly that I forget them preemptively so they can remain something for the two of us alone!”
Saviz was likely alluding to the discussion we had a few days ago when we ate dinner together in the royal castle. No matter what happened, I couldn’t admit that I had forgotten what we discussed, even when I had him all to myself. I’d make an enemy out of all the knights who adored him (that is, every last one of them).
As I squirmed, Cyril nonchalantly said, “Ah, indeed. Liquor does tend to make Fia exasperatingly forgetful.”
“Oho ho ho. Oh you, Captain Cyril! You may be my direct superior, but you can’t presume to know everything about me,” I said, willing Cyril to keep his trap shut.
Humored, Saviz said, “Is that so? Then, Fia—do you recall who my first love was?”
“Huh?!” No way. My conversation with Saviz was one of those conversations? Nooo! What a waste it was to forget a thing like that!
I hemmed and hawed, but ultimately my desire to weasel my way out of my predicament lost to my desire to hear this juicy gossip.
“As both of you say, my memory is known to lapse at times, but to think I would forget such an important conversation! This shame shall hang over me for the rest of my days. I swear to never forget again, so would you please tell me the name of your first love one more time?!”
Saviz chuckled at my begging. “How am I to tell you the name of somebody who doesn’t exist?”
“What?!” He smiled, and I had to wonder if this was the exact same conversation we’d had at dinner. Or maybe such a topic never came up at all and this was bait. …Judging by his amusement, it was probably the latter. “Geck.”
I croaked like a squished frog, and his smile grew.
“It appears you really do forget the conversations you have while intoxicated.”
Trying to outwit him would only dig me a deeper hole, so I threw in the towel. “I do.”
“I, however, do remember what was said, so I’ll proceed as though you do too.”
He forced events along just like anyone with power would—but then again, he was the commander of the knight brigades as well as a member of the royal family. Such high-handedness must have come naturally to him.
Or so I thought, but then he reminded me of something I’d forgotten that night.
“During that dinner we shared, I told you I view the saints as selfish, self-righteous, and attention-seeking.”
“Huh?! It’s not like you to say such a biased thing! N-not all saints are the same! I mean, I know at least Charlotte’s a good girl.”
He grinned. “Even sober, your thoughts remain the same, I see.”
“What?” Did we have a similar exchange during our dinner? Or perhaps he’d laid out another trap and I took the bait again. …Judging from his amusement and what he said, it was probably the former.
His good mood made it hard to tell how serious he was, so I pressed for confirmation. “Uhh, I take it you’re not too fond of saints, Commander Saviz?”
His mother was a saint, and his future wife would be a saint as well. Surely nobody could hate family so much, but then I recalled how my brothers from my past life hated me. Maybe it was possible.
“Sadly, all the women around me are saints, aside from you and Clarissa, so I am indeed not fond of them. Drinking tea with the queen dowager is grueling for me. That’s why I want you, somebody who has qualities a saint would die for but isn’t saint-like herself, to serve as my good-luck charm.”
Interesting. In other words, Saviz didn’t see the upcoming tea party as a gathering with family but rather an engagement with a saint—meaning he saw Hyacinthe as a saint more than he saw her as his mother.
Hmm… Royalty sometimes couldn’t meet with family, so maybe they had naturally grown distant? Cyril did mention that Hyacinthe was always busy.
I nodded thoughtfully.
Suddenly, Cerulean broke his silence. “I’ll have you know I find it just as grueling! I hate saints even more than you, Saviz, and I hate tea as well!”
Goodness. It seemed the royal family was competing to see who could complain the hardest. I glanced at Cyril, wondering if he was going to throw his hat in the ring as well given his close ties to them. He kept his mouth shut, however, and furrowed his brow at Saviz and Cerulean.
Oh, right. Cyril sided with saints no matter what. He probably took issue with the two openly criticizing saints.
Or so I thought, but as though reading my mind, he turned his gaze on me and shook his head. “I understand and can accept their aversion to saints.”
“Really?!” I exclaimed. Despite always praising saints, Cyril put Saviz and Cerulean first. They were childhood friends, so I supposed the strength of their bond outweighed his feelings toward saints.
Kurtis, who had been waiting quietly in the corner of the room, stepped forward. He just so happened to be in Saviz’s guard today and therefore already in the room when Cyril and I arrived. Or rather, he was the only guard in the room when we arrived, so I assumed the rest were sent away.
Despite being someone who usually took his work seriously and did not speak while on duty, Kurtis unexpectedly broke that rule. “Commander Saviz, may I have permission to remain on your guard detail for the rest of the day?”
Saviz weighed the request. Seeing the look in Kurtis’s eyes, he said, “You may. It’s decided then. Cyril, Kurtis, and Fia will comprise my guard detail for the tea party.”
A knight entered then with a message from Hyacinthe. It said she was tired from using her saint powers earlier in the day and wanted to postpone the tea party.
Card in hand, Saviz furrowed his brow. “It seems we have some free time… How about we go monster hunting in the forest?”
“Huh? Right now?” I said. Sure, we had some time to kill, but shouldn’t we use it to prepare, maybe change into fancier clothes? Saviz showed no interest in anything like that, however. The fact that monster blood might dirty his clothes ahead of the tea party didn’t even seem to cross his mind.
Cerulean tried to slip out unnoticed, but Saviz caught him by the collar again and ordered him to return in three hours. Then he grabbed his sword, apparently quite serious about heading to the forest.
His decision struck me as too spontaneous for a man of his position, but nobody said anything, so perhaps this wasn’t uncommon for him. Maybe it was even necessary. When I was down, I liked to practice uncommon chants and healing magic to blow off steam. Hunting monsters in the forest must have served a similar purpose for Saviz. I was sure he had plenty of worries to contend with.
“Fia? Is something wrong?”
He met my gaze, but I couldn’t bring myself to directly ask what was on his mind. I thought about cracking a joke instead, when I recalled something.
“I was just thinking,” I said. “Earlier, you moved the conversation along for your own convenience just like Cerulean would. You really are royalty, huh?”
Cerulean frowned sulkily, but Saviz smirked.
“You really don’t remember anything from that night, do you? I only spoke my true thoughts then because you claimed you wouldn’t recall a thing. I never intended to speak of any of that again, to anyone, ever.”
“Huh? Then why’d you reveal what you really thought of the saints again?” I asked, even though I could have let the matter lie.
He stared at the Náv flag that adorned the wall, a standard the same red as my hair. “It’s because of you. You spoke to me of a dream, one that I couldn’t help but want to witness. I can’t bring myself to let that night come to nothing.”
“Huh? Wh-what exactly did I say?” I spoke to him of a dream? I didn’t recount an actual dream, did I?
…Yikes. I totally might’ve.
Cold sweat prickled down my back. I couldn’t recall a thing from that meal with him, so I shouldn’t have felt ashamed or embarrassed. Why was it that I yearned to remember what I said back then?
He leveled a meaningful look at me. “That’s something for you to recall yourself.”