His anger was only natural. Without the quick thinking of Ras and Fiarca, Val’s imprudent move could have harmed the valued dinner guests.
But Valdemar barely heard his father’s complaints, for something even more terrifying weighed on his mind.
“That’s impossible… She’s unharmed!”
As the smoke cleared, Valdemar raised his swords once more. Standing at the center of the explosion was Kanalayka, illuminated by the moonlight, without a single scratch on her smooth and fair skin. She had managed to defend against every last one of Valdemar’s flying blades.
“Not so,” she said. “This dress is not my own, and yet I allowed it to be damaged. My training is still far from complete.”
Sure enough, there was a large rip in Kanalayka’s dress that ran all the way up one leg, revealing the soft skin of her thigh. The legate sighed deeply, as if more embarrassed by her own mistake than the indecent exposure. Blocking Valdemar’s attack had been no challenge, but Kanalayka had failed to take into account the way her dress fluttered.
“As my way of atoning for this failure, I shall show you my full strength as well,” she said, leveling the point of her sword at Valdemar. Her cold eyes bored straight into the young lord’s, yet he returned only a gleeful smile.
“Fascinating! I must say, I’m quite taken by you, Lady Kanalayka! Once this duel is over, allow me to ask for your hand!”
Valdemar leaped high into the air. The benefit of a two-sword style was the overwhelming quantity of strikes it allowed. The best way to take advantage of that was by getting into ultra-close quarters with one’s opponent.
The only reason Valdemar had not done that yet was because in such a state, it was difficult to hold back. For an aura knight, just a few millimeters could spell the difference between a grazing blow and a fatal wound. In many ways, unleashing an Over Art, the danger of which was obvious at first glance, was the kinder option.
However, right before Valdemar unleashed the culmination of his training, Kanalayka vanished from his sight.
“I’m honored, Lord Grey, but I shall have to refuse.”
The voice was like an icicle dropped down his spine. It came from directly behind him.
Valdemar suddenly thought back to the fleet-footedness Kanalayka had displayed in their duel so far. It was almost as if the legate had been trying to warn him. Valdemar had mistakenly believed that to be the limit of her speed. Perhaps that was Kanalayka’s intention all along. As it turned out, neither combatant had been showing their full strength from the beginning. If anyone had been merciful so far, it was Kanalayka.
“I never show favor to men who are weaker than I.”
“…What?!”
When Kanalayka unleashed her full potential, not even Valdemar could track her. Before he knew it, he was lying on the ground, with the tip of the legate’s blade pressed against the back of his neck. To all the spectators, watching with bated breath, it must have been impossible to tell what had happened. For a while, the crowd was dead silent. Nobody spoke a word. Then after ten seconds had passed, a murmur spread among the guests, which gradually turned into loud cheers.
“Are you willing to continue, Lord Grey?”
“No. You got me fair and square, I’m afraid.”
The point of Kanalayka’s rapier was rigid and unmoving, and Lord Grey slowly raised both hands beside his head. Kanalayka lowered her sword and reached out to help him up.
“My, my, I might really fall in love at this rate,” said Valdemar, going in for a hug.
“I’d prefer you didn’t, Lord Grey,” parried Kanalayka, stepping aside with flawless ease. “You’re a nuisance.”
Instead, the legate walked back over to where Ras and Fiarca were waiting. The imperial princess took a step forward and addressed the crowd.
“That settles it, Lord Grey. Ras and Pernille shall not be married. Any objections, Marquis Burndy?”
“None at all, Your Highness.”
Frédérique gave a dignified bow. From his point of view, there was very little difference between Lord Grey winning and losing the duel. The match had already served its purpose, both to entertain the night’s guests, and put to bed any rumors about the house’s involvement in the plotted assassination of Princess Tishna. Even though Valdemar had lost, he had more than shown his capabilities, and to top it all off, no one had been seriously hurt. The marquis could hardly hope for a better outcome.
Meanwhile, Ras and Fiarca were not without gains as well.
“Now then, Lord Grey, I believe you owe us a favor.”
“I’m a man of my word, Your Highness,” Valdemar said, straightening in response to Fiarca’s words. “Ask me anything you wish.”
“I would like you to accompany our delegation to Charlgia and assist us in rooting out the organization seeking to assassinate Princess Tishna.”
“An assassin hunt, you say?”
For a moment, Valdemar looked blank. He clearly hadn’t been expecting to hear such a proposal.
“Should you succeed in preventing the princess’s assassination,” said Fiarca, “your house will surely be absolved of any baseless suspicion. Plus, you’ll be upholding your sister’s honor. What do you say?”
Valdemar bowed deeply. “I humbly offer my life in your service, Your Highness.”
“Thanks,” said Fiarca with a small nod. “We’ll be counting on you.”
Just then, Ras leaned over and whispered in the princess’s ear.
“Was this your plan all along?” he asked.
From their time together at the academy, Ras was well aware of Valdemar’s personality. He was never the most diligent student, but he was exceptionally talented at human psychology and gathering information—two skills that made him perfectly suited to hunting down the princess’s assassins. He was also well informed about goings-on in the kingdom, thanks to the many trade routes between the northern march and Charlgia.
Ras was starting to wonder just how deep Fiarca’s schemes ran, but the princess only gave him a sullen look.
“It’s not like that, Ras. We needed some diplomatic way to stop you getting married off to Pernille, and this was the first thing I thought of. Besides, none of this would have been necessary if you’d just minded your own business.”
“And what if Kanalayka lost the duel?”
“Oh, there was no risk of that,” replied Fiarca with a smile. “I’m pretty sure Valdemar realized what I was up to halfway through.”
Startled, Ras turned around to see the man grinning at him.
“I can’t stand that guy,” he muttered under his breath. By his side, Kanalayka looked down sadly at the hem of her torn dress.