Chapter 27
"Milady!"
"Ma'am, are you alright?"
"Ma'am!"
Muriel and the servants passing through the corridor rushed over in a crowd to help Frida, who had toppled backward. Startled, Ricardo hopped over the second-floor window he'd been clinging to just moments ago.
"Oh dear, ma'am. Did you get quite a fright?"
"Ricardo! I thought my heart would stop!"
Unable to calm her pounding heart from the shock, Frida yelled. But soon aware of the gazes fixed on her, she forced an awkward smile.
"I'm fine, everyone. It's nothing, so go back to what you were doing. Haha."
Once the servants had all left with their worried murmurs, Frida glared at Ricardo again.
"What on earth were you doing up there? No, how did you even get up here?"
With Muriel's support, Frida stood, rubbing her sore hip as she turned toward the window. This was clearly the second floor—how had he appeared from there? Ricardo scratched his head and pointed to the tree branch swaying outside the window.
"I climbed the tree thinking it would be good to cut that branch off, and then I heard the Duchess's voice. Curious how well it carried, I perked up my ears and..."
"The tree?"
Frida approached the window and reached for the particularly close branch among those encircling Skadi Hall. Ricardo stepped beside her and closed one side of the window to block the sunlight pouring onto her arm.
"I'd been checking around because it seems like someone might be slipping in and out using the darkness. This one happened to be in the perfect spot to climb over the window, so it caught my eye."
Frida could guess what Ricardo was worried about. The Boild Baron was someone sent by the Dowager Empress to monitor her husband, so spies might sneak into Skadi Hall to collude with him. As his arrival neared, even Dominic—who had initially welcomed the chance to offload tedious tasks—had grown sharply on edge lately. Had the Dowager Empress's affection for Daniel, treating him like her own son, truly been all an act?
"Why bear a child who won't be welcomed anywhere?"
Those words had weighed on her heart, as if the Duke himself were saying he wasn't welcomed. Frida quietly approached Ricardo, who was scrutinizing outside the window, and asked.
"Ricardo, is the relationship between the Duke and the Dowager Empress really that bad?"
Ricardo, who had just snapped off the long-extending branch, leaned on the windowsill and fiddled awkwardly with his jaw.
"Well... The Dowager Empress seems to dislike my lord, but I'm not sure about how he feels."
Frida, standing right next to Ricardo, sparkled her eyes.
"Is it true that the two of them used to be quite close in the past?"
"Well... Hard to explain..."
Suddenly, a gust swept through the window, pushing aside the branch, and sunlight streamed in through the gap. Spreading his palm wide to block the light now hitting Frida's face, Ricardo smiled warmly.
"It's a very desirable thing for a couple to take interest in each other. Shall we find somewhere quiet and have a long talk then? Oh, I heard Adel made some amazing liquor—is that true?"
Her white hair shook vigorously up and down like the tree branch swaying in the wind. Ricardo's lips held a smile for a long while as he watched. *** Whoosh, slice. Each swing of the sword cleanly severed four out of five wooden blocks set on stumps in sequence. The diagonally split blocks thudded into the Training Ground dirt here and there. Dust swirled in one corner of the Training Ground as Daniel ran his fingers along the keenly sharpened, smooth blade and smirked faintly. Dominic sauntered over, glancing at the fine wave patterns unique to Damascus steel on the blade, and grumbled.
"In the end, Koldar fell into my lord's hands. You coveted it so much—are you satisfied?"
Not needing an answer, Dominic moved to pass it off, but Daniel questioned him instead.
"Why can't Svergen still produce swords of this caliber?"
"Not just Svergen—it's the same everywhere on the Rosuman continent; no one can replicate it."
Swinging the sword hard to cleave the last remaining block, Daniel sheathed Koldar. The irritation was evident, as if the smile had never been there.
"What will they do if the Eastern forces push down? How can they be so complacent when their horsemanship and weapon strength are far ahead of ours—don't they know that yet?"
"Probably. They don't even need to go far—the Svergen folk still think the tribes south of Rapas are barbarians."
Dominic snickered and kicked a block at his toe far away.
"They ignore the visible reality that Bologna got a university before Chellino, or that Milabo and Bulenchi already have bigger populations than Chellino. Why would they care about the East?"
Svergenians had acted like masters of the continent for years, based on the flimsy excuse of settling at Rosuman's center. Daniel would have been the same frog in a well if he hadn't wandered as a mercenary. Hah. One more thing to thank the Dowager Empress for? Ending the brief pleasure with a bitter sneer, Daniel left the Training Ground. Every gesture and command to Dominic following exuded the cold precision befitting Svergen's black beast.
"Raise the sword strength by any means. Tell the smiths not to slack on finding a way. If replication is truly impossible, make something new."
"You emphasized that three years ago. We know and are already doing it."
"What's the point of just pouring in money? We need results."
"Do you think dumping that money was easy? Sneaking in and out of the vault like a thieving cat while watching the Duchess—we really sweated."
Ignoring Dominic's complaints, Daniel continued.
"You saw them too. The weapons those Notingen bastards wielded. Spears and swords—all clearly imported from the East. Should've caught that damn Arthur back then and traced the source."
"Yes, yes. All good, but lower your voice. Planning to spread rumors that we're making weapons?"
Shaking his head vigorously, Dominic craned his neck to scan around and said,
"Fortunately, the Duchess was passionate about farm tools. Otherwise, we'd have gone bald inventing excuses to keep the forge going."
Munheim Castle's blacksmith had shared hardships with the Mercenary Corps for years. A wanderer who could've fled long ago somehow got stuck in the duchy. He fell for a castle maid, married, had kids—or had kids then married? It was fortunate, but added to Dominic's workload. Hearing the guy's complaints about no sleep—patching tools by day, researching swords by night—consoling him, secretly slipping money from the back pocket. The Duchess worked hard, sure, but he'd suffered plenty too. Yet handing over that precious vault key without conditions? Dominic scowled at the procession of wagons filling the front yard.
"Anyone would think the steward—or the Emperor—is arriving. We know the Duchess is generous, but isn't this too much?"
Objectively, it wasn't excessive, but compared to what was currently in Munheim Castle, Dominic had a point. The furniture and decorations being unloaded looked far pricier than what the lord's wife's rooms held. Suddenly, he recalled his wife's unchanged, modest appearance even after handing over the key. Didn't noble wives need fancier, more lavish things? Anyway, she was a woman who made him worry in all sorts of ways. Watching the ornate floral carpet head into Skadi Hall, Daniel calmly turned toward Marian Hall, where he resided. His wife's plain white hair without even a simple ornament lingered in his mind, but he soon dismissed it.
"Even if it's a mere rat pup, we can't mistreat a noble sent by the Dowager Empress—must keep up appearances."
"The Dowager Empress will soon learn the Duchess is extravagant."
"Dominic, they'd laugh if you call that extravagance."
Dominic's biggest flaw—despite knowing everything and uncovering all secrets—was his utter lack of financial sense. After all, son of Ricardo, who only knew fighting and was otherwise an innocent fool. If he'd picked up even this much worldly savvy, it was a success.
"The Boild Baron is a different caliber from what you've seen so far. If you don't want to be looked down on, at least learn some etiquette."
"Oh, I didn't know. Rats have ranks too."
Dominic snickered again but halted as Daniel suddenly stopped. Over Daniel's shoulder, beneath the broad fir shade, a man and woman chatted amiably: Ricardo and Frida. Dominic sighed long to straighten his unconsciously curling lips and muttered.
"Just like father and daughter. Worrying. How will that father ever let go emotionally... Sigh."
What the sight of the two sitting face-to-face under the shade shielding from the sun brought Daniel wasn't concern for the future, but a lingering image from the past.
"Daniel, stop sword training and come rest in the shade."
"No, ma'am. I must become a fine knight quickly to protect young master Leopold."
"Daniel, I don't want you calling me ma'am. You're my son too, just like Leopold."
Three years ago, his head hadn't shattered on impact—that was certain. Since these damned memories hadn't faded. Daniel quickly passed them. ***
"Haa..."
Even with eyes closed, sleep wouldn't come, so Frida kept tossing and turning. Finally kicking off the blankets and sitting up, she slumped her drooping shoulders.
"My lord was shocked badly upon learning the truth. He lost his speech for a while. Think about it. Hearing directly that the one who cherished you used you as a shield for her own son—who wouldn't be shocked? And to a child at that."
The more she chewed on it, the more outrageous it seemed.
"Wow, that woman's too much."
Throwing off the blankets and leaving the bed, Frida paced the room, unable to contain her anger and huffing.
"Does that make sense? Even to a child? Wow, bad woman. Really, really bad woman!"
Yelling only fueled her rage further. Her throat parched, she went to pour water, but the pitcher was empty. She'd been so furious all afternoon that she'd forgotten to have it refilled. Too late to ring the bell, and too scary to traverse the dark corridor to the kitchen. But she needed to soothe her burning insides somehow. Hesitating, Frida cautiously opened the bedroom door. Fortunately, the wall lamps lighting the corridor hadn't been extinguished yet. Bringing the room's lantern made it not too dark. Peeking down after a few steps, lamps still burned at both ends of the stairs. Lately, with her reviewing documents late often, they must have kept the lights on. Slowly descending, Frida headed to the kitchen. Her huffing made her yank the door open roughly. Bang.
"Uh...?"
The massive black shadow filling one kitchen wall slowly turned toward Frida, who had frozen in surprise.
"If you're not leaving, come sit."
