Previously
As Luwan collapses under foreign and pagans' invasion during a devastating war, King Sid Repos flees the royal castle, leaving Queen Iris Repos alone in the throne room to face the end. Instead of enemy generals, Commander Heyer Asheri and the Tehas Knights arrive, looking for a way to save the kingdom.
Kings are born on the road.
* * *
Not a single span of Luwan was safe anymore.
Enemies surging in from the north and east clashed in skirmishes and battles across the realm. Wherever there were villages, wherever there was drinking water, corpses of the people of Luwan lay piled high.
Only after leaving the royal castle did Iris truly come to understand what it meant to lose a war.
She looked out upon a Luwan where not even the living remained to bury the dead, where snow simply piled over the fallen where they lay.
The Tehas Knights were few in number, but they were remarkably strong. Though they encountered countless foes, they never once retreated.
Yet as they entered the northern highlands, where the snow had never melted for thousands of years, the companions wounded in those relentless battles began to perish one by one.
The horses were butchered for rations one after another, until before long, most of them had to walk on foot.
Winter nights in the highlands stretched on endlessly. Trekking that road was so freezing and dreary that they found themselves wishing an enemy would appear instead.
To stave off the crushing boredom, Heyer, their commander, devised a game: “Who could have taken the throne to keep Luwan from falling?”
With only their mouths left free to move, anyone still capable of speech joined in.
In their game, the knights took turns placing royalty, the eight great noble houses, and three pagan tribes upon the throne.
Iris had never been one for many words, and she kept silent to conserve what little strength she had, but the knights were so engrossed in the game that they chattered on without pause.
Annamaria, a knight of common birth, thrust her sword through the maw of a serpent-like monster that lunged at Iris. Glancing down at the arm scraped by its venomous fangs, she spoke up.
“Shouldn't we imagine what would've happened if the Commander seized power by now?”
At that, Henke, who was ripping a long strip of cloth from his clothes to hand to her, chided,
“Isn't the hero supposed to show up last? You're always far too impatient.”
“I told you, it’s because I grew up starving!”
“How long are you going to keep milking that excuse?”
The two, who bickered whenever they had a shred of energy to spare throughout the journey, started trading barbs once again.
While Annamaria used her free hand and teeth to tightly bind her bitten arm with the strip Henke had handed her, Heyer chimed in.
“Fine. Let’s say I became king. How would I have taken the throne?”
Annamaria called out immediately.
“When you turned twenty, you would’ve committed treason, just like I said!”
“The strength of the Tehas Knights alone wouldn't have been enough, would it?”
Henke answered Heyer’s question.
“House Asheri would have backed you, Commander.”
Yet as their hypothetical tale unfolded once more, there was one detail that remained identical every single time.
Heyer cast a sideways glance at Iris and said with a teasing lilt in his voice,
“Looks like the king and queen were executed this time as well.”
Anyone else ascending the throne presupposed the overthrow of the current monarch.
Iris knew that well enough, but hearing it over and over finally stung, and she couldn't help muttering aloud,
“…I die every single time.”
The moment Iris voiced her complaint for the first time, the three surviving knights burst into laughter together.
Annamaria said,
“I was wondering when you’d finally get mad about that.”
“Me too. If it were Annamaria, she would’ve thrown punches ages ago, screaming about why they kept killing her off.”
“Well, you're not wrong.”
Annamaria shrugged.
They continued weaving their tale, imagining Heyer as king.
“Watching both sides from the border, House Asheri would’ve betrayed us and sided with Suyeo again.”
“To make matters worse, those Kahif bastards from the desert would show up.”
“Since we’re already stationed on the great plains, what if we retreat and ask House Dirfone for aid?”
“You know how fast the Kahif are. They’d catch up in no time.”
In the three months spent on the march, Iris learned far more than she ever had in all twenty-five years spent in the convent and as queen.
Amidst their lively chatter, Annamaria, sensing her own approaching end, spoke cheerfully.
“Right then, guess it's time we part ways.”
At those words, the other three came to a halt.
Annamaria seemed to sense that the arm nicked by the venomous fang would soon claim her life.
She turned to Henke, who had dragged along his broken leg even before her own injury, and said,
“You can't walk any farther either. Come on over.”
“I’m fine.”
“Oh, stop lying. There’s no way you’d outlive me.”
At her words, Henke conceded with a rueful look.
“And here I thought I hid it well.”
“You can’t fool me.”
Watching Henke finally hobble over to her side after all their bickering, Annamaria let out a hearty laugh and looked to Heyer.
“Next time, let's meet in a world where I’m the commander, Commander.”
“I wouldn't mind, but the others would probably object.”
“If you say it’s fine, Commander, everyone will follow right along.”
“Then that’s still a world where everyone listens to the Commander, isn't it?”
At Henke’s dry jab, Annamaria gave a bemused nod. “Oh? True enough.”
Leaving behind the pair who were closer than anyone, Heyer turned away without a single parting word.
Iris had grown accustomed to the peculiar custom of the Tehas Knights, parting in the face of death with jokes and smiles. It was the only courtesy the dying could offer.
Every last member of the order was fiercely stubborn and full of pride, taking honor in showing no fear even when death arrived.
The final two trudged onward up the snowy mountain, their feet sinking knee-deep with every step.
* * *
For more than three days after that, there was nothing to be seen except the eternal snow of the highlands.
Though Iris had heard a distinct people dwelt only in these high mountains, she had not encountered a single soul throughout the trek.
Before the terrible, biting cold, she felt an endless temptation to surrender to the sweet promise of death before her eyes.
The world was far vaster than Iris Repos had ever imagined in her mind.
She began to fear that her own ignorance had driven the Tehas Knights to their deaths.
As night deepened, Heyer dug out the snow and pitched a small tent.
In such dire straits, there was no room for propriety; even when more of the knights were alive, they had slept huddled together in a tangle, and now the two lay pressed closely side by side to sleep.
Under the grueling journey and endless loss, Iris felt as though she were crumbling from the inside out. Their destination remained clear, yet reaching it seemed utterly impossible.
As a fever began to burn through her body, Heyer, who had been resting back-to-back with her, sat up.
He stripped off his thick outer coat and wrapped it around Iris. Numbed by the cold and pain, unable to muster the will to lift a finger, she quietly let him do as he wished.
As her body warmed slightly and her senses returned, Iris lifted her head—only to freeze once more. Stripped of his coat, Heyer’s torso was covered in severe wounds.
Seeking to reassure the startled woman, Heyer offered a smile and asked gently,
“What kind of stories do you like?”
At his sudden question, Iris looked into Heyer's eyes.
Knowing he did not wish to speak of his wounds, she pondered her answer for a long while before parting her lips.
“I don't know.”
Her life had been a dull one.
Iris knew that when her own death came, she would not have a single joke to offer as these knights did.
At her disheartened tone, Heyer remarked,
“No wonder. You've held on this far with that frail body simply because you don't have any jokes to tell when you die, haven't you?”
Flabbergasted by his teasing remark, Iris narrowed her eyes and glared at him. At the look she gave him, Heyer burst into laughter.
Hearing him laugh so heartily that the gloomy air seemed to brighten, Iris found herself smiling as well.
Her mind hazy with fever, she spoke to Heyer.
“I liked that smile of yours. When we first met.”
“…”
“Maybe it's because I grew up in such a cold place, but seeing someone smile so warmly… I couldn't help it….”
At her words, Heyer crossed his arms and said with an entirely solemn face,
“Had I known sooner, I would've taken your hand and run off before you married my brother. What a pity.”
“Liar.”
Seeing that Iris looked sorrowful rather than amused by his jest, Heyer joked no further on the matter.