Around one in the morning, Eric carefully got out of bed, trying not to disturb Eleanor.
He was going to have a serious talk with his sister, Helia.
It wasn’t essential to his plan, but it was still an important connecting piece.
However, just as he was about to open the door and leave, he found that his room had been locked.
’Who was it?’
Eric took out a pry bar and picked the interior lock. But when he thought he was done and pushed the door again, he discovered an additional lock on the outside.
It was an external lock, the kind usually used on chests containing valuables.
He reluctantly took out his longsword and pried open the hasp of the external lock.
’It couldn’t have been the Old Baron. If he’d wanted to do this, he would’ve done it on the first day.’
After Eric passed through the dim corridor and reached Helia’s room, he was about to knock when he found her door was unlocked.
He pushed the door open instinctively but felt a resistance. Then, he gave it a sharp shove.
There was a loud THUD. It wasn’t the sound of the door hitting the wall, but more like it had hit someone’s head.
Someone fell to the floor.
Eric walked in to see Helia squatting on the floor, clutching her nose.
"Helia? What are you doing?"
"B-big... Big brother!?"
Startled by Eric, Helia jumped, and her head hit the wall behind her.
The pain squeezed a few more tears from her eyes.
"G-good... Good evening."
She got to her feet, holding the back of her head where she’d hit it, and forced a strained smile onto her face.
She had two bundles slung over her shoulders and was wearing trousers instead of a dress.
She wore a tight-fitting black top and trousers of coarse cloth. Probably because it had been rather cold lately, she had added a green tunic and matching overtrousers, along with a grass-green cloak.
She looked just like a clown who had just run out of a Roman theater.
"Why are you dressed like that? What are you planning to do?"
"I’m... I’m, uh..."
Helia glanced left and right, trying to find a good excuse, before her eyes landed on the window.
"The moon! I’m looking at the moon. See? Isn’t the shape and angle of the moon tonight especially... especially perfect? So big... and round..."
Helia pulled Eric over to the window.
Due to the angle, they had to press themselves against the window and look up to see the full moon.
However, the moon tonight was a sliver, as thin as could be.
Instantly, the smile Helia had forced onto her face became even more strained.
All she could do was give Eric a helpless, awkward laugh.
"The only thing big and round I see is your forehead!" Eric said, flicking Helia’s forehead.
"Oww... you hurt me," Helia whined, clutching her head.
"You don’t want to marry him?"
"Yeah." Helia stopped playing the victim and nodded.
"Why didn’t you just tell me?"
"I..."
Helia was about to say something polite and noncommittal, but looking into Eric’s eyes, she swallowed the words.
"You once said it’s much better to trust yourself than to trust others. That most generous people are only pretending to be generous, and most passionate people are only pretending to be passionate. Just like our father."
Helia lowered her head, her confidence wavering.
"Then it seems I’m the one who should be blamed."
Eric suddenly started laughing.
"If you were to disappear on my watch, the old man would most likely blame me for it. And since I already hate him, I’d be more than happy to oppose him to the very end, whether it’s for your sake or for any other reason."
"And since he’s in Italy, his reach is too short to interfere with me anyway."
"I’m sorry, Eric."
"I bet you were so happy to see me today you almost jumped for joy," Eric said, tweaking her ear.
"N-not... not really. N-no, no, uh... Seeing family... that’s supposed to be a happy occasion, isn’t it? Besides, you’re the best to me, Eric," Helia said, hugging him.
Helia nudged Eric’s chin with the top of her head.
"So, this afternoon was deliberate, wasn’t it."
"Does it matter to you, Eric?" Helia took a few steps back, her hands behind her back. She tilted her head and smiled at him.
"That kind of thing makes people dislike you," Eric said with a smile.
"That’s not necessarily a bad thing, is it?"
Helia grinned, placing her hands on her hips, looking rather pleased with herself.
"There was quite a bit of noise from your room earlier. It seems you really like her. I thought that after dinner, you’d come say hi to me first before going to comfort her."
"I bet I really pissed her off. I wasn’t even using a third of my strength, and she went down."
"You don’t need any special tricks to be annoying, you little brat. You’d better give her a proper apology tomorrow."
"I know, I know. For my beloved big brother, I suppose I can bring myself to apologize to my dear sister-in-law."
"The lock on my door was your doing, wasn’t it."
"Ehehe," Helia said, sticking her tongue out.
"Perhaps this so-called eldest son of the Duke of Milan is a handsome man. Maybe you should meet him first before deciding," Eric teased, patting Helia’s shoulder.
"No way. Eric, I don’t want to be his tool. No... I might not even qualify as a tool."
"This marriage is unnecessary. The only reason he’s sending me away is to raise a sum of money. Did you know that? (A feudal obligation in the Middle Ages: when a Feudal Lord’s daughter married, his Vassals were required to provide funds for the dowry and wedding expenses.)"
"Eric, it’s just for a sum of money. I’m not even a commodity; I’m just an excuse to levy a tax."
"’Ah, how wonderful. The future Duchess of Milan, the child-loving Giscard.’"
"’Mann? Fine, Mann. It’s right near Normandy, so off you go.’"
"’Helia, go meet your future husband. Remember to be obedient and humble.’" Helia mimicked his tone. "Bullshit! Utter nonsense! A month ago, he didn’t even know there was a so-called Duke of Milan in the north!"
"There’s no wedding procession, no honor guard, and the location isn’t even in Apulia."
"With just one casual sentence, he sends me to such a faraway place. But I... I’ve never even been to Normandy before."
"The old man only cares about himself. What about your mother?" Eric shrugged.
"Her? She only cares about that kid, Roger. It’s not like you don’t know that." Helia sighed, then seemed to remember something else. "Oh, right, Eric. Did you know? The old man sent our youngest sister to Constantinople last year. She’s supposed to marry a newborn baby. Her name is Helena now."
"What an ugly name. I hate Greek."
"She should be ten this year, right?" Eric mused.
"Yes. There’s a ten-year age gap. Her life is going to be very difficult. Besides, you know full well what the Greeks are like: jealous, cunning, and utterly faithless. They’re fickle and self-righteous, and they replace their King as if it were a child’s game."
"A newly crowned Emperor rarely treats the children of the previous Emperor well. When his authority collapses, they’re suddenly worth less than pigs and dogs."
"It’s still a question whether that infant Prince will even live to grow up."
Helia felt a pang of sympathy for her little sister’s fate, then looked at Eric. "If I stay here, Eric, will you force me to do things I don’t want to do?"
"You can do whatever you want, as long as it’s within moral bounds. If you want to be on your own, I can give you a few of my manors in Normandy to be your personal property."
"But before that, I need you to do me a favor."
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PS: The author hasn’t been feeling well recently, so updates may be a bit slow.