Sigrid

“It’s not like that. Sparring is— sacred. I can’t let you win. And above all, for what purpose? Sparring is meant to gauge one’s own skills. If that’s the case, what’s needed is training, not sparring.”

Sigrid spoke earnestly.

“I can observe your form, Marie-Chez, or even teach you swordsmanship—”

At the mention of teaching swordsmanship, Lowengrin looked at Sigrid in surprise. Marie-Chez also hesitated at those words before replying:

“I don’t need it.”

“Huh?”

“I said I don’t need it. I don’t like getting muscles on my arms.”

“……”

Sigrid’s jaw dropped.

“But Marie-Chez, you’re a knight. Basic strength training is obviously…”

“I’m just in the 2nd Knight Order anyway. Besides, I told you before. Being a knight isn’t my goal.”

“Even so, Marie-Chez, that’s not right.”

Sigrid’s face hardened.

“Even if being a knight isn’t your goal, once you’ve become one, you should fulfill the basic duties. As an Imperial Knight, you should at least have skills worthy of the position. Self-discipline is fundamental. Asking to lose in sparring without doing any training is simply cheating, isn’t it? It’s not right. I don’t think Marie-Chez should do such things. It’s deception. Think about the salary we receive.”

“More preaching. Right, you’re correct, and I’m wrong. Is that what you want to say?”

Marie-Chez’s sarcasm made Sigrid frown. Lowengrin inwardly marveled.

‘Wow, in the past she would have gone on about the shame of knighthood and such, but Sigrid is holding back?’

“Sigrid.”

Lowengrin called her, and Sigrid quickly turned to look. Seeing her stern face for the first time in a while, Lowengrin smiled and said:

“Show me your arm.”

“Huh?”

“Your arm.”

Though confused, Sigrid obediently rolled up her sleeve to show her bare arm. Lowengrin looked at Marie-Chez and said:

“See, a toned arm. Isn’t it pretty?”

“But if she flexes…”

“It’s not like you’ll be showing off your biceps at a ball, right?”

“Well…”

Sigrid’s slender arm, with lean muscles built for practicality, was undeniably beautiful. With arms like that, one might want to wear sleeveless dresses even in winter, not just summer.

“Since you’ve become a knight anyway, wouldn’t it be good to be skilled with a sword too?”

“I suppose…”

“Besides, Sigrid is offering to teach you. You know there aren’t many people who would teach swordsmanship, right?”

Swordsmanship is like a secret art passed down from master to disciple. Of course, there are instructors who teach basic swordsmanship, but once you reach a certain level, it becomes a battle with oneself. People don’t easily share their techniques with others. That’s why there’s a long apprenticeship period where one learns by observing and trying.

After a moment of silence, Marie-Chez answered:

“A little bit, then.”

“That’s great.”

Lowengrin smiled, while Sigrid couldn’t understand. After Marie-Chez left, Sigrid confided in Lowengrin:

“Was what I said wrong?”

“Hmm, no.”

“Then why did Marie-Chez ignore my words and get angry, but listen to what Lowengrin said… Is it because of different friend levels?”

“Levels?”

“Yes.”

At that, Lowengrin burst out laughing. She shook her head and said:

“It’s not that. It’s more about… the difference in approach. For example, Sigrid, wouldn’t you like to go to a ball to meet men?”

“Huh? No, I’m not really…”

Sigrid answered without thinking. Lowengrin continued:

“Then how about going to the same ball to socialize and gather information?”

“Umm…”

As Sigrid pondered what to do, Lowengrin said:

“I don’t want to go alone, so would you come with me?”

“Alright.”

After Sigrid answered, Lowengrin smiled and said:

“It’s like that.”

“Difference in approach…”

Sigrid muttered, lost in thought. Lowengrin sighed.

“I wonder what will happen with Alkerto and Marie-Chez now.”

“What do you mean ‘wonder’? Aren’t you going to mediate?”

“It’s not as simple as your issue with Marie-Chez. Marie-Chez directly hurt Alkerto’s pride. Marie-Chez needs to bow her head and apologize, but if I tell her to apologize, I might have to deal with another round of drama with Marie-Chez, and I’m not sure if it’s worth spending my energy on that?”

“That’s cold.”

Sigrid said without thinking, then quickly shook her head, saying, “Ah, I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

“I know. It’s both my strength and weakness.”

Lowengrin smiled slightly.

“But I hope they reconcile.”

At Sigrid’s words, Lowengrin nodded.

“I have no intention of stopping you from acting according to your own thoughts.”

“Okay.”

Sigrid nodded.

‘Though I said that…’

Sigrid sighed.

‘I can’t concentrate.’

She lowered the tip of her sword.

“Are you done already?”

As she stood there staring blankly at her sword, Arkana, who had been pruning nearby, called out to her. Sigrid looked at him and said:

“Well, there’s been a bit of a troublesome situation…”

“Troublesome?”

“I want to reconcile two people, but…”

“…Wouldn’t it be better not to get involved? You might end up on bad terms with both of them.”

“But if things stay as they are, they might not reconcile…”

“Isn’t there someone else who knows both of them?”

“Ah.”

There’s Morris.

“There is.”

“Why don’t you talk to them?”

“That’s a good idea. Thanks, Arkana.”

“Don’t mention it. By the way, about this tree. I think we need to buy a ladder. Don’t you think the branches at the top are sticking out too much?”

At those words, Sigrid looked up.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, I think it would be good to cut about 30cm off that end. We’ll probably need a ladder.”

“Step back for a moment.”

“…?”

Puzzled, Arkana stepped back, and Sigrid took a deep breath.

‘Compress the Aura sufficiently—’

The sword in its scabbard began to vibrate with a hum. Sigrid flicked the sword, drawing it simultaneously.

Ping—

A sharp sound rang out. Arkana looked up at the tree thinking, ‘Surely not?’, but the branch was intact. He laughed and said:

“It didn’t work yet?”

Sigrid grinned, then approached the tree and kicked its base. The tree shook, and only then did the upper branch fall with a thud.

“That’s amazing!”

Arkana’s eyes widened. As Sigrid tried to sheathe her sword again, there was a clang, and the sword shattered.

“Ah.”

“Oh dear.”

Sigrid sighed, holding the sword handle without its blade. Arkana asked:

“Did the sword fail to withstand the force?”

“Yeah, I guess I pushed in too much Aura. It couldn’t handle the process of compression and release.”

Thinking ‘It used to be fine before,’ Sigrid realized that the sword she used to use was the one bestowed upon her by His Majesty.

‘It was a good sword.’

She crouched down, trying to fit the large sword fragments back together. Of course, there was no way they would reattach.

‘Swords are expensive too.’

Should she aim for a promotion, if only for the money?

Sigrid looked at the sword fragments with sad eyes, groaning.

“Shall we bury it?”

“Huh?”

Sigrid looked up at Arkana’s words. Arkana pointed at the sword and said:

“The sword, I mean.”

“Why bury it? We could sell it as scrap metal or something.”

“…Sigrid, you have no sense of romance.”

At Arkana’s words, Sigrid thought ‘Is that so?’ and lifted the sword fragments to look at them, then sighed again.

“It probably won’t even weigh enough to sell as scrap. It wasn’t even good quality steel anyway…”

“Then I’ll clean it up.”

“Huh? No, you don’t have to.”

“It’s okay, leave this much to me.”

At Arkana’s words, Sigrid nodded. She dusted herself off, stood up, and returned to her room.

‘I should have another sword somewhere…’

In her wardrobe, Sigrid found the sword she used as a squire. When she drew it, the quality was poor, but it was better than having nothing.

She replaced her sword and headed to Morris’s house.

Guided by a servant to the reception room, Sigrid stood up when Morris entered.

“Oh, Sig. Hello.”

“Morris? Are you okay? Are you feeling unwell?”

Morris sat down on the sofa with sunken eyes, burying his face in his hands.

“Hangover.”

“Hangover?”

“I drank too much last night.”

“……”

Dozens of lectures about a knight’s comportment and self-care came to Sigrid’s mind, but she held them back.

“Are you feeling very bad?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. I’ll come back when you’re feeling better.”

“No, if that were the case, they wouldn’t have let you in from the start.”

Morris mumbled, raising his head. He asked the servant to bring strong tea and slumped back on the sofa. Sigrid asked:

“Who did you drink with?”

“Alkerto.”

“Ah—”

Sigrid’s face darkened, and Morris waved his hand.

“I know you didn’t say those things.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’ll come to apologize later.”

“That’s a relief.”

Sigrid let out a sigh of relief. She glanced at Morris and said:

“Hey, Morris.”

“Yeah?”

“About Marie-Chez and Alkerto.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there any way to reconcile them?”

“Reconcile…”

Morris looked at Sigrid.

At that moment, a maid entered pushing a trolley, setting down a teapot and cups. Morris poured himself a cup of strong, steeped tea.

“Sigrid, Alkerto is…”

“Yes?”

Morris recalled drinking with Alkerto the night before.

The good liquor he brought disappeared quickly, and they both downed a lot of cheap gin that Alkerto produced. With an alcohol content of about 40%, they soon became intoxicated.

With a reddened face, Alkerto slumped over the table and said:

“I knew Sigrid wouldn’t have done that.”

Morris looked at Alkerto without responding.

“But, I don’t know. I’m really pathetic. Sigrid is truly strong. And she— she’ll rise quickly. Because she has talent.”

Alkerto could see his own heart laid bare. His head felt fuzzy and dizzy.

“If I didn’t have a family, if I could have devoted more of my time and money to swordsmanship, maybe I could have become like that too. If I had practiced sword instead of going to other parties or bars because I didn’t want to appear poor, I might have become stronger.”

Alkerto raised his head and downed his drink. Morris silently refilled the empty glass.

“I’m jealous of Sigrid. I’m jealous of her talent— if only I had devoted myself to swordsmanship as much as she has. But I could never do that. Because I have five family members all relying on me.”

Alkerto laughed.

Maybe he should live at home and commute instead of paying rent in the capital, cut off all other social gatherings, and save money ruthlessly regardless of whether people call him poor or not. Maybe he should beg for sympathy to get treatment costs or whatever else.

But he absolutely didn’t want to do that.

He didn’t want to show that side of himself. It didn’t matter if it was called unnecessary pride. For him, it was a matter of dignity.

If only he didn’t have his half-siblings—

He could enjoy a free life as much as he wanted.

So he felt pathetic for resenting them, pathetic for his lack of talent—

He envied Sigrid’s talent.

And Sigrid, who looked at him directly and said, “I think Alkerto is amazing.”

“When I’m with her, I feel like the most pathetic person in the world.”

As Alkerto said this with a laugh, Morris shook his head.