Chapter 24:
An Abrupt Return by a Royal Order
THE FIRST BATTLE OF PRINCESS VALIELE, THE younger of the kingdom’s two princesses, was referred to as Caroline’s Revolt. A month had passed since that grisly battle. I’d successfully finished my conscripted service on behalf of House Polidoro and returned to the Polidoro fief with my citizens to enjoy my days of peace. For personal reasons and for my own dignity, I’d begged for Martina’s life to be saved, and I brought her back to my fief as well to train her as my apprentice. I was in the midst of teaching her to take care of my personal steed, Flugel, in the stables. She’d be in charge of the horses from now on, but I liked taking care of horses and would probably continue to look after them in my own spare time. As I spoke, I pet Flugel’s head.
“This is my steed, Flugel,” I explained.
My warhorse stood tall and solemn, emanating an aura of grandeur and power. Flugel was a great horse, and my beloved mother, Marianne, had obtained him from somewhere for my sake. He stood more than two meters tall; I didn’t know his precise weight, but he was easily heavier than a ton. I had a narrow view of the world, but through my military campaigns, I’d traveled around Anhalt and seen my fair share of horses. None could match Flugel in size.
“He’s enormous,” Martina remarked. “It’s only natural for the strongest knight in Anhalt to have such an impressive steed.”
“When I was fifteen, Flugel was three,” I said. “Even back then, he was able to support my size and weight.”
This horse was one of my few treasures. I’d given away hair ornaments and rings to my citizens, and Flugel was my only remaining possession that my late mother had given me. I suppose it’s not right to refer to my beloved horse as an object, I thought. But I had no other way to describe him. How should I speak of my precious horse? My words should be filled with endearment. During the Campaign of Villendorf, if not for Flugel’s valiant performance, I would’ve lost in my duel against Knight Captain Reckenbell.
There was no denying my burly physique. I stood at a towering two meters tall, and weighed over 130 kilograms. I wore hefty military gear as well, but my horse could easily soar through the air without a care. Indeed, Flugel was my trusty steed—there was no other fitting way to describe my military partner.
Flugel nuzzled at my face, and in turn, I rubbed my cheek against him. We enjoyed the feel of one another.
“He’s very intelligent,” Martina observed. She stared at us.
“He truly is,” I agreed. “Horses are smart creatures.”
Whenever Flugel was praised, it made me ecstatic—as though I were the one who’d received the compliment.
But Flugel’s already ten years old. Truthfully, I knew that my horse could still be active—he was special. This world had some abnormal people who could only be called superhumans, and Flugel was a superhorse of sorts. Even so…
“I’ll happily take good care of him,” Martina said. She seemed to have read my mind. “Flugel is already quite old, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
It was high time that I found him a bride. If possible, I didn’t want to search for a new horse to replace him; I’d rather have Flugel’s bloodline live on in the Polidoro fief. He was the one who’d walked a tightrope to save my life numerous times; it was the least I could do. As his partner in war, I had a duty to preserve his lineage. But we don’t have nearly enough money to buy a new mare… Wait, maybe I can use the reward I received when I stopped Caroline’s Revolt. No, I already decided to use that money to help reduce my citizens’ taxes. I agonized over my decision.
“I’d like to say that it’s time to get a new horse, but…” Martina trailed off. A bright girl like her could easily predict my response.
“My fief isn’t wealthy,” I confessed. “And besides, Flugel has a hearty appetite.”
A horse was very expensive to purchase, but by far, the greatest expense would be raising it. In this fantastical Middle Ages era, the Engel coefficient for my fief was quite high. If a horse were to work, we would have to feed it exponentially more food than a human could consume. My trusty steed, Flugel, worked hard and well—it was his right to eat as much as he wished. And he ate very well, at least three times more than a normal horse could. It was heartwarming to see his healthy appetite, but I took a hefty financial hit. If I have to maintain another horse on top of him, my funds won’t cut it…
“I should do something,” I muttered.
This issue had been on my mind for quite a while now; it was one of my largest worries. Even Princess Valiele wouldn’t be able to help me with it. I knew that the quickest solution was to simply purchase a new horse, but I desperately wanted Flugel to continue his bloodline. What should I do?
While Martina and I tried to come up with a solution, Helga, my chief squire, approached me.
“Lord Faust, a messenger has arrived.”
“Again?” I asked. “She sent another letter, didn’t she?”
Duke Astarte sent an endless stream of letters to me in defense of her actions and words. After leaving the royal capital and returning to my fief, I’d already received her letter that contained her genuine thoughts. She must’ve concluded that she’d leave a better impression on me if she were honest and made no attempt to provide flimsy lies. And my honest thoughts about her letter? Frankly, she was a real idiot.
She knew my personality well, and if I’d possessed the values of a normal man in this world, I would’ve given in to her. Admittedly, I would’ve struggled to pin her as a simpleton. If she’d predicted that I would lose control and prostrate myself to beg for Martina’s life, she wasn’t ingenious—she was insane. Frankly, I was quite impressed with her honesty. I was the one who’d lost my composure. It wasn’t right to blame the duke for my actions. However, I couldn’t forgive her.
“I shall open Duke Astarte’s letter and scan the pages,” I said. “But I won’t respond. I’ll simply send her letter back.”
“Are you sure?” Helga asked.
“I am.”
I didn’t mind that Duke Astarte wanted my chastity. What I couldn’t forgive was that she’d toyed with Martina’s life and treated the young girl like a tool. The duke had manipulated the mind of a child and made Martina beg for her head to be taken by my blade. That was what I found absolutely inexcusable.
I turned to gaze down at Martina beside me.
“Um,” Martina said. “About Duke Astarte manipulating me…”
“What?” I asked. “I don’t plan on forgiving her.”
“Forgiveness aside, I don’t really hate her for her actions or anything.”
Huh? Stunned, I peered into her face.
“Martina, she toyed with your life,” I said. “Don’t you resent her for that?”
“Lord Faust, are you angry at Duke Astarte for steering your actions to her own ends?” Martina inquired.
“No, I’m not.”
While I might have been goaded to act, my own childishness was really to blame. Duke Astarte wasn’t responsible for me prostrating myself. But Martina, you have every right to be angry.
“And I’m not either,” Martina replied. “I’m not particularly angry.”
“Martina, you’re still a young child,” I pointed out. “Duke Astarte treated your life as a pawn to use as she saw fit. You should be furious about that.”
“Lord Faust, if you had beheaded me on the spot during that trial, I genuinely wouldn’t have had any regrets.” She looked as composed as ever. “And judging from what you’ve said, it seems Duke Astarte had plans to save my life anyway. I’ve heard that she wanted to make me her retainer. I was supposed to die at the trial, and she was the only one who scrambled to save my life.”
“Well… I suppose…”