Sigrid

“After enough time has passed. Until the Western Nobles Alliance has suffered enough damage, until their losses are severe. We can’t ignore them completely, after all.”

“I see.”

Beramund pondered for a moment, then said,

“Accept volunteers.”

“What?”

“Suggest it. Say that while the decision is being made, the Western Nobles Alliance is in danger, so if there are volunteers, we should send them. Can’t you push for at least that much?”

“Well, that’s true, but the moment they volunteer, they’ll be drawing a line with His Majesty. How many from your 1st Imperial Guard do you think will go?”

“It’s showing direct goodwill, even if it’s small. I’ll go, for one.”

“Goodwill……”

“We can talk all we want. Don’t we need to show at least some visible results to take credit?”

“That’s true……. Volunteers……”

Serios fell into thought. He got down from the chair and said,

“Alright. I’ll propose it right away.”

“As Your Highness wishes.”

Beramund replied, placing his hand on his chest.

⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱

The Dudain region is quite a protruding area in the west. It’s a region with borders on three sides.

Sigrid said, panting,

“We barely made it.”

“I thought we were going to die on the way,” Beramund chimed in.

Both were wrapped up from head to toe, with only their eyes exposed. The same went for their horses. Fortunately, as they moved further west, there was less snow, so the horses didn’t have to trudge through deep snow. Sigrid regretted not bringing Echo, but at the same time, she felt relieved.

What if Echo had died here?

Viscount Curtis raised his hand towards the guard on the city wall with a grim face. The city gate slowly began to open after confirming it was the Viscount.

“They’re opening even though it’s curfew time.”

“If they made us camp outside after we came all this way, I’d destroy them.”

Beramund growled. Sigrid agreed with that sentiment. She’d had enough of winter camping. To be honest, they might have broken down the city gate.

As soon as Viscount Curtis entered the city with his group, a man wearing a high-quality cloak, who seemed important at a glance, came running.

“How did it go? What about reinforcements?”

“They said they’d send them after the meeting is over.”

Curtis’s words were full of sarcasm. The man who heard this opened his mouth in shock. Soon, the shock turned to anger.

“Such nonsense—!”

“That’s why I came for now,” Beramund said, lowering his hood and muffler.

The man squinted at Beramund, then muttered,

“The Black Knight.”

“I’m honored you recognize me. I’m Beramund Lunatil.”

“Those heterochromatic eyes are unmistakable.”

The man muttered and turned his gaze to Sigrid sitting next to Beramund. Sigrid also lowered her hood and greeted politely.

“I’m Sigrid Ankertna.”

“A woman?”

The man muttered and clicked his tongue. He said to Beramund with a sneer,

“I’ve heard you like women, but I didn’t know you’d bring one to a place like this.”

“That’s harsh. She’s my subordinate from the 1st Imperial Guard. Also a Master. I guess the news hasn’t reached this backwater yet.”

Beramund retorted with barbed words as he got off the sleigh. Sigrid followed without a word. She’d heard plenty of such sneers before, so it didn’t bother her much.

She’d heard countless times about being His Majesty’s mistress, or spreading her legs to become an insider, or being both a knight and a concubine. They always sneered like that, even knowing she was a Master.

“An Aura user?”

The man squinted at Sigrid, who didn’t even bat an eyelash. He sighed and said,

“I’m Ard Okul. This way for now.”

Beramund desperately wanted to collapse and sleep right away, but he silently followed Ard. When they entered the tactical headquarters set up inside the fortress, surprisingly, Duke Fienscha himself was sitting at the head.

“Your Grace.”

Beramund greeted politely. The inside of the fortress was full of warmth, with braziers and fireplaces burning brightly. Feeling his stiff body starting to loosen, Beramund sighed. Duke Fienscha glanced at Beramund and then said to Viscount Curtis,

“Report.”

While Curtis explained the situation in a voice trying to exclude as much resentment as possible, Beramund looked at the map, wiggling his numb fingers.

‘Did they lure the magical beast away from the city walls? How did they lure it? Food?’

“So the actual reinforcements are just the two of you,” Duke Fienscha said.

Beramund looked up and grinned.

“Two Masters. Isn’t that better than a hundred soldiers?”

“I know you well, but—”

Duke Fienscha looked at Sigrid with an unconvinced expression.

“Make that one and a half.”

After correcting the information, the Duke rose from his seat and said,

“You both had a hard journey. Rest for today, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Understood.”

The Duke called a nearby soldier and had him show the two to a room. The soldier led them up to the upper floor of the fortress and gave them one room. It was an unlit room.

“Surely they’re not expecting us to sleep in an ice box?”

Beramund muttered, thinking he could touch the low ceiling if he stood on his tiptoes. Sigrid looked around the fireplace area and said,

“There’s coal and firewood, so let’s light a fire.”

“Fire?”

He tilted his head, and Sigrid realized he truly was a nobleman.

“I know how to light one.”

Sigrid moved the coal and firewood to stack them. Then she searched around and found matches, using tinder to light the fireplace. Beramund exclaimed “Oh” in admiration and said,

“Don’t worry too much.”

“About what?”

“People’s reactions.”

“I don’t care about that.”

Sigrid answered cleanly. Both of them stood by the fireplace, basking in the growing flames. Beramund glanced at her and asked,

“I didn’t expect you to come along.”

“I couldn’t let you go alone, Captain.”

“Even if it means falling out of favor with His Majesty?”

“It’s my decision, unrelated to His Majesty or His Highness. If it appears that way, let them think so.”

Sigrid shrugged. She added,

“And personally, I’m interested in the west.”

“The west?”

“Well, more like one person there.”

At those words, Beramund said, “Ah.” If a swordsman was interested in someone from the west, there could only be one person.

“Utulu Mihas?”

“Yes.”

They had crossed swords before, but never met personally. Beramund thought for a moment and said,

“Don’t be too disappointed when you meet him.”

“Pardon?”

“That guy’s also a western blockhead who thinks women can’t do anything properly.”

“Ah.”

Sigrid nodded in understanding.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Beramund looked at the separate beds and said,

“Anyway, it’s clear they’re not welcoming us. Giving us just one room.”

“They must be short on resources.”

Firewood and coal are all precious resources in the west. It’s probably common for multiple people to sleep in one room. Whether it was because of that or to deliberately show their inhospitality by giving a small room, he wasn’t sure. The room size was just enough to fit one wardrobe, two beds, and a small washbasin. The window, covered with wooden boards, was tiny.

Beramund was certain this room would be dark even during the day.

‘This fortress was built more for combat than for living.’

Maybe that’s natural for a border region. The floor was, of course, bare stone without even a single rug. Beramund brought over a partition placed on one side and set it between the beds. It was fortunate that at least this was available.

‘Only two volunteers, though.’

Beramund inwardly swallowed a sigh. When he asked for opinions from the 1st Imperial Guard, no one stepped forward. Naturally, no one would want to fall out of favor with His Majesty. Especially not members of the Imperial Guard.

Amidst all that, Sigrid suddenly raising her hand had surprised Beramund the most.

And it reassured him.

“Let’s rest for now. I feel like I might fall asleep standing.”

At Sigrid’s words, Beramund snapped out of his thoughts and nodded. He asked,

“Right or left?”

Pointing at the beds, Sigrid chose the left side with the window. A subordinate should take the lower position than their superior. As Sigrid chose the left, Beramund tossed his luggage onto the left bed and said,

“You sleep on the right.”

“Why did you even ask me to choose?”

“I thought you’d pick the better side.”

Beramund grumbled as he took off his outermost coat. By now, the fireplace logs were blazing nicely. Sigrid put down her luggage on the right side. She took off the robe she’d worn as a dust cover and hung it on the partition, then carefully removed the fur-lined cloak she wore underneath and hung it on the partition as well. The snow-white fur cloak sparkled even in the firelight.

It was a precious cloak Lowengrin had lent her for the western trip.

Beramund tried not to listen to the sound of clothes being removed from across the partition. His mouth felt parched.

“Beramund?”

“Y-yes?!”

His voice cracked involuntarily.

“Is the Alliance our enemy?”

Her question felt like a bucket of cold water to Beramund. His mind cleared instantly, and he answered,

“No, they’re people we need to make into allies.”

“I understand.”

Beramund became curious about what expression she had while giving such an answer. But he couldn’t see her face beyond the partition.

As he unfastened his gauntlets, Beramund said,

“Sigrid.”

“Yes.”

“Let me tell you this: don’t listen to unreasonable demands.”

“Unreasonable demands?”

“Yes, even if we’re trying to make them allies, there’s no need to comply with excessive requests. And don’t listen to people who demand sacrifices. Anyone who says things like ‘die for me’ is trash.”

Beramund took off his armor. He felt lighter in just his shirt. When no response came from behind the partition, he frowned and looked towards it.

“Siri?”

“Ahahahaha—!”

What he heard was an explosive laugh, making Beramund’s eyes widen. Not knowing if he should look beyond the partition or not, he fidgeted anxiously and said,

“Siri? Are you alright?”

“Pfft, no, hahaha, no, ha, it’s just—”

Sigrid couldn’t stop laughing.

—Die for me.

There was someone who had said those words. The lord I revered, His Majesty who discarded me. I had wondered if I had done something wrong to him. And yet—

‘Trash, he says.’

Laughter burst out and she couldn’t stop it. It was a knockout blow that swept away all her worries about whether she had done something wrong. Sigrid pressed her mouth, chuckling. Hearing worried noises and voice from across, she barely managed to stifle her laughter, panting.

“I’m, I’m fine.”

Barely answering between gasps, Sigrid looked at the partition. She tapped on it lightly. Immediately, Beramund pushed the partition open.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

Sigrid said with a face full of laughter. Beramund looked at her face and asked with a strange expression,

“Did I say something that funny?”

“No, not at all.”

She quickly became serious and said.

“Then why did you laugh?”

Sigrid answered honestly.

“I remembered someone who told me to ‘die for them’.”

At those words, Beramund’s expression instantly turned grim.

“Who said such a thing? Wait, it wasn’t Serios, was it?”

“No.”

“Did you accept it?”

“No.”

She said with a smile, and Beramund felt relieved. He was afraid this girl might easily accept such things. He reached out and lightly pinched her cheek before letting go.

“You’re not going to tell me who made that proposal, are you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s enough to know you refused. Anyway, don’t listen to such things. Reject them firmly.”

“Yes.”

As Sigrid answered firmly, Beramund nodded and said, “Good.”

“Alright, let’s sleep. I’m dying here.”

Beramund said as he put the partition back in place. Sigrid checked the firewood again, added a bit more, then took off her boots. Just that alone made her feet feel much better, like she might survive. The quality of the blanket was terrible, so she carefully covered herself with Lowengrin’s fur cloak.

‘They say other people’s fur is warmer…….’

Praying in her heart for God’s blessings on Lowengrin, she closed her eyes. A grin kept escaping her lips.

From tomorrow, there would be battles with the magical beast, and the western nobles would surely be difficult. But none of that bothered her at all.

‘Trash.’

Recalling that word and suppressing another chuckle, Sigrid fell asleep. It was a very comfortable sleep.

‘I think I understand why Marie-Chez curses the men she’s met and disliked.’

It feels refreshing.

Gaining such an insight for the first time.

The next morning, in the darkness, Sigrid’s eyes snapped open. Assuming it was between four and five in the morning since she had woken up, she quietly rose.

Despite the short sleep, her fatigue had completely vanished. Sigrid rummaged through the ashes of the extinguished fireplace, found an ember, and rekindled the fire. They hadn’t had the presence of mind to keep it burning all night.

Glancing back, she saw Beramund sleeping without moving a muscle.

‘Should I wake him? No, let’s wait until the water boils.’

She poured water from the earthenware pot under the washbasin into a kettle, placed it on the fireplace grate, and stretched languidly. As she was doing her slow wake-up stretches, the kettle began to boil, making a clattering sound. Suddenly, Beramund jumped up from the bed. Holding his sword and staring blankly at Sigrid, he said “Ah” as he relaxed his tension and spoke.