Carlos pondered for a few moments. “House Vermeil... Ah, yes, I remember. If a girl was born in that household before my lord became of age, the deal was that he would become engaged to her. But there are only three years left before my lord is an adult, and I presume that this promise isn’t rather official... Oh, pardon me. Alba, you hail from House Vermeil, don’t you? I don’t blame you for being so worried.”
“I’m from a minor branch of the family, so I’m not too deeply invested. Above all, I swear my loyalty to House Lightless.”
Carlos quietly turned to the ground and changed topics. “How is your wound? I believe that my lord did a number on you.”
Alba was wearing a fresh suit of armor and appeared perfectly well on the surface, but his injury hadn’t healed completely. Though he didn’t let it show, sharp pain still coursed through his body.
“I’m just fine,” he replied. “Sir Carlos, I worry about you. You’ve been awake since last night, searching desperately for Lord Lofus. Surely you should get some rest. I can serve as his guard while you sleep.”
“You?” Carlos asked incredulously. “My lord seems to hate you quite a bit. I’m not confident that you’d be able to guard him.”
The two men narrowed their eyes and quietly glared at each other; it was clear that there was a touch of hostility in the air.
“Sir Carlos, I’ve received a report from my subordinate,” Alba said. “Lord Lofus has sustained major injuries. She tried to heal him, but he didn’t fully regain his vision in his left eye, and his left arm is still gone.”
“Yes... So it seems,” Carlos said as he quietly glanced down.
“How could a man of your caliber allow such a mistake? I can only call it disgraceful. How will you possibly take responsibility for this?”
“I shall report the whole truth to Lord Lightless, of course. I can only heed his orders and decisions. And of course, I’m prepared to take whatever punishment he decides.”
“Sir Carlos, I know of your accomplishments, but you cannot escape your age. Have you considered retirement?”
“I would love to retire, but Lord Lofus mentioned the other day that I am not allowed to, you see.”
The usually expressionless Alba glared at Carlos with wrath in his eyes, but the elderly butler laughed through his nose.
“Alba, you aren’t able to hide your annoyance,” he remarked. “You’re still too young, too inexperienced. A man of your caliber won’t be able to mobilize House Lightless and Lord Lofus just yet.”
“What?! I-I’ve got no such intention—” Alba started.
“Now, what good will it do when you panic that way? If someone accuses you of treason, you surely have no good excuse.”
“Grr...”
Alba inched back with vexation as Carlos wearily took a cigar from his pocket and lit it.
“Even if you managed to chase me away, that doesn’t mean you will become my lord’s personal guard,” Carlos pointed out.
“Well...” Alba started as he trailed off.
“Speaking of,” Carlos said, raising his head. “Yes, the word ‘personal’ just jogged my memory. The healer that you sent—Miss Yusurika, was it? Lord Lofus seemed awfully fond of her, and he invited her to become his personal guard.”
“What?! I’ve received no such report!”
Shock riddled the captain’s face. Carlos wearily pointed his cigar at Alba.
“Your face,” the butler said.
“Ugh...” Alba groaned.
He immediately turned expressionless again, his poker face causing Carlos to let out another sigh.
“Do you want to become Lord Lofus’s personal guard that badly?” the butler asked. When no reply came, he went on, “No matter the case, I doubt I’d be able to get some rest. I suspect that tonight will be busy as well.”
Alba furrowed his brows with suspicion. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
“Well, I haven’t been able to get some rest for the past few days. And tonight shall likely be no different.”
The captain quizzically tilted his head to one side.
✶✶✶
As the moon shone over the world and the curtain of night fell upon Roguebert, the banquet came to an end. The sailors were blacked out and drunk, and Lofus ordered his Dark Knights to guide them all home. Log, perhaps able to handle his liquor better than most, was the only one who wasn’t completely smashed. He carried his snoring father, Greig, on his back. Lofus stood beside the two with a snoozing Fol on his back. No one had asked the noble to carry the girl; he did so of his own volition, much to Log’s surprise.
“You’re gonna help me?” he asked.
“You can’t carry two by yourself, can you?” Lofus replied.
“Er, well... You’re right. Thanks.”
Log instinctively tried to decline Lofus’s offer, but immediately reconsidered his words. A man as large and brawny as he could easily carry two people, especially if one of them was petite like Fol. But he knew that now wasn’t the time to refuse the noble’s kindness.
“So, whatcha gonna do, kid?” Log asked out of the blue.
Lofus, confused, knitted his brows. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Fol. You’ve realized it, haven’t you?”
Lofus responded with silence. He knew that Log was referring to Fol’s obvious romantic interest in the boy. Anyone could tell, and of course, Lofus had also noticed Fol’s affection for him.
“Realized it? She makes no effort to hide it,” Lofus said.
“Ha ha, yeah, for sure,” Log replied. “As her older brother, it makes me feel a bit bashful myself.” He laughed, maintaining his cheerfulness.
“And? Why do you ask? What do you expect me to do?”
“Well, as her older brother, I’d love for you to react positively to my adorable sister’s feelings.”
“You certainly speak of this like a peon with no responsibility. People like you are called ‘commoners who don’t know their place.’ You’d best commit that to memory.”
“So Fol’s first love will go unrequited? That’s too bad. She might even cry.”
“Then let her cry. Fol and I live in completely different worlds.”
“You think so? I thought nobles were the ones who could do whatever they pleased, frankly.”
“Don’t act like you know us,” Lofus said, visibly irritated.
Log saw the ill-mannered boy as a child shackled by the rules of high society, someone who felt suffocated and bound in place. His thorny words and intimidating aura were reminiscent of a little kid desperately trying to protect himself. To Log, it was pitiful.
Fol had woken up in the middle of this conversation. She gently bit her lower lip as though to ruminate on the conversation she overheard, and neither Log nor Lofus noticed her awake. Normally, a noble wouldn’t carry a drunkard back home, especially not a commoner. The Lofus of several days prior would never have done anything like this. Carlos watched from afar, indulging in the wholesome change that Lofus had gone through, a stark contrast from Alba, who lifelessly stared at Lofus and Fol.