Still, no amount of reflection changed the present reality: my “young maid” Kuro was currently playing ball with another country’s guardian deity.
Trapped inside the dark sphere, the serpent had long since grown dizzy, its two heads helplessly drooping in unison. Clearly, the time had come to put an end to this.
“Good afternoon, Tia,” I called, my tone warm. “How are you feeling?”
Bertia looked up from her chair, her face brightening instantly. “Lord Cecil! You’ve finished your work for the day?”
“I have. Everything that needed handling is done. So, naturally, I came to see you.”
“You came just to see me? That makes me so happy!”
The way her voice lifted made me feel that quiet warmth I could never quite hide.
Without realizing it, I found myself smiling too.
Much as I wanted to forget all about the “ball” Kuro was so diligently bouncing and simply enjoy a quiet afternoon with my wife, I knew better than to let that temptation win. Ignoring it now would only mean trouble later, and I’d already had enough serpentine headaches for one lifetime.
Suppressing a sigh, I turned my gaze toward Lady Cynthia, seated opposite Bertia. She’d likely been keeping my wife company while I was occupied with paperwork.
“Miss Cynthia,” I said mildly, “we’ll be taking tea here for a while. Kuro and Zeno are both with us, so you and the others may take some time to rest.”
It wasn’t merely a polite dismissal. If I intended to quietly extract that two-headed menace from Kuro’s shadowy plaything, I couldn’t afford an audience.
The maids who served Bertia adored her, but even so, fewer witnesses meant fewer complications.
Cynthia and perhaps Milma were exceptions. Both were aware of the spirits’ existence and close enough to Bertia to be trusted with the truth, but this wasn’t the time or place for such a conversation. That could wait until later, behind closed doors, one at a time.
“As you wish, Your Highness,” Cynthia said.
When our eyes met, she smiled faintly and rose, dipping into a graceful bow. From the glint of understanding in her eyes, I could tell she’d read my intentions perfectly.
The other attendants, catching the mood, began moving with quiet efficiency. Cynthia’s teacup vanished from the table in one seamless motion, replaced with a fresh setting for me.
Even knowing my reasons, I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt at how abrupt my request must have seemed.
“Oh, that reminds me,” I added. “Now that Princess Lysonna’s wedding has concluded, and our return is drawing near, I’ll grant you all the afternoon off. Take some time to see the city before we leave. You’ve earned it.”
Truthfully, I had a few minor tasks I could work on later if I wished, but none were urgent. For today, I could afford to set them aside.
Which meant, of course, that I could spend the rest of the day with Bertia.
With Zeno present and my own guards stationed nearby, there was no real need for the ladies-in-waiting to hover over us.
Bertia had always been the sort to keep those around her on their toes; her attendants had their hands full more often than not.
They deserve a little reward now, and then, I thought.
“If you wish,” I said aloud, “you may take Bard, Kulgan, or any of the others who aren’t currently occupied as escorts.”
Bard, Cynthia’s fiancé, had been one of my closest companions since our academy days. Once a promising candidate for my personal guard, he was now serving as a newly commissioned knight. As luck would have it, he happened to be off duty today.
Kulgan, on the other hand, still had a few minor tasks to finish, but nothing pressing. I’d deliberately kept his schedule light this week. Given how tense he’d been lately, constantly glancing over his shoulder for fear that Princess Bistona might appear and corner him again, a day of peace and fresh air would do him good.
He was my subordinate, yes, but also my friend. And friends needed room to breathe.
No officer of mine would ever collapse under the weight of overwork or stress. Not if I could help it.
“Oh my,” Cynthia said. “Are you quite certain, Your Highness?”
“Of course,” I replied. “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t have offered.”
She looked at me steadily, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as though trying to read some hidden motive. I met her gaze with an easy smile, the picture of innocence, because, for once, there was no ulterior motive to find.
After a brief silence, she exhaled in quiet resignation.
“I cannot quite read Your Highness’s intentions,” she admitted. “But if you say it’s all right, then I’ll accept your generosity.”
“It’s simple,” I said lightly. “You’ve all looked after my wife tirelessly since we arrived. This is simply my way of saying thank you. Besides, I plan to spend the day relaxing with Tia while you’re away. That’s all.”
Her expression softened instantly, the tension in her posture easing. “In that case, I’ll gladly take you up on the offer.”
“Good. Enjoy yourself.”
As soon as I mentioned spending the day with Bertia, her expression shifted in that familiar way I’d come to recognize: something between understanding and relief.
It always struck me as curious.
Whenever I invoked my wife’s name as my reason for doing something, everyone around me, from my knights to my attendants, seemed to accept it without question, even looking comforted by it.
The maids, who had been dutifully tending to their tasks while sneaking hopeful glances toward my exchange with Cynthia, broke into quiet smiles the moment our conversation concluded. A soft ripple of delight passed through them.
Off to the side, as inconspicuous as ever, stood Milma. True to form, she was mumbling to herself in a nervous undertone.
“Um, m-maybe I should invite Sir Kulgan… but what if that bothers him…”
Kulgan was the sort of man who took duty far too seriously. If I didn’t give explicit permission for him to rest, he’d spend the entire day on alert, never taking a proper break, never stepping away from work.
That was exactly why I’d made a point of saying they could take him along as an escort.
Whether Milma found the courage to invite him, or whether Kulgan accepted her invitation, was no longer my affair. Some things had to unfold on their own.
I’d gladly play the role of a discreet supporter of young love, but coercion wasn’t my style.
“Thank you for your consideration, Your Highness,” Cynthia said, her voice bright with relief. “We’ll take our leave, then. Please enjoy your time with Lady Bertia.”
Once my tea had been poured and arranged, she gave a flawless curtsey, her expression radiant, and led the others from the courtyard.
As they departed, I could have sworn I heard her exclaim, “I can’t wait to see what kind of unique weapons or poisons they sell in this seaside kingdom!”
I chose to assume I’d misheard.
I also had the vague, sinking suspicion that the next day, Bard would corner me to recount whatever he and Cynthia discovered on their little outing.
If that happened, I’d nod, smile, and pretend to listen. And if that grew tiresome… I could always order him off to training.
I watched the women depart, so graceful in their manners, yet unable to entirely hide their excitement.
When they finally disappeared beyond the garden gate, I turned back and settled into the seat across from Bertia.
My knights, ever discreet, had already repositioned themselves at a respectful distance. They stood with their backs to us, facing outward.
Usually, a guard maintaining such a distance was expected to keep their eyes on the protected target at all times. Turning away completely, as they were now, was technically a breach of protocol.
My guards might have looked lax to an untrained eye, but in truth, they were following my standing orders.
When Bertia and I dismissed everyone save for Zeno and Kuro, I required my men to maintain this posture: keep a wide perimeter, stay vigilant, and above all, do not watch us.
It had taken some convincing to make that rule stick.
When I first issued the command, several of the more dutiful knights had objected in near panic.
“But Your Highness, if we avert our eyes, your safety cannot be guaranteed!”
The matter was settled, however, after an unexpected comment from the knight commander, Bard’s father.