The castle lord, who had been studying his expression with a rigid face, let out an awkward laugh and scratched the back of his head.
“I’ve been acting like an old fool. My apologies if I’ve offended you.”
Varkas watched him with frigid eyes, then strode across the courtyard.
In front of the castle gates, the cavalry stood in formation, having already finished their preparations for departure.
Scanning the ranks, Varkas spotted Talia walking along the dirt path and came to a halt.
Her pale tawny hair, neatly braided, shimmered like pure gold in the autumn sunlight.
Observing her pale, fatigue-etched face, Varkas handed the reins of his horse over to a squire and stepped up behind her. At that moment, Talia, who had been grasping the door handle to board the carriage, glared at him warily.
“Wha—what is it…?”
Varkas, who had intended to help her into the carriage, slowly withdrew his hand.
His wife looked like nothing so much as prey cornered before its natural enemy. As he met those frightened blue eyes, a faint tremor rippled deep in his gut—in some part of him he couldn’t name.
He studied her face in silence with narrowed eyes before taking a step back.
Seeing the tension drain from her frame as if she were finally relieved left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Ignoring the strange stir in his chest, he spoke calmly.
“I intend to travel on horseback starting today. I will post separate guards by the carriage, so send for me if anything happens.”
A faint flicker of relief crossed her face. As if to hide it, she lowered her long, thick lashes and replied bluntly.
“Do as you wish.”
Then she slipped into the carriage as though fleeing.
Standing by the door and watching her in silence, Varkas let out a small sigh and turned away. It seemed all the effort he had spent trying to accustom her to his touch had gone to waste.
Yet after his impatience last night, her reaction was hardly surprising.
‘…It would be best not to touch her for the time being.’
She was as skittish and fearful as a young wild mare.
If he wanted her to lower her guard, he could not afford to press her too closely.
With that lingering bitterness in his throat, he swung himself into the saddle.
“Once again, thank you for accepting my hospitality, Your Grace.”
The castle lord, who had been waiting a short distance away, approached him once more. Varkas turned his mount toward the head of the long column and gave a slight nod.
“I will resolve the matter of the bandits as swiftly as possible.”
“Thank you. Then I shall see you in Kalmor soon.”
The man bellowed in a booming voice.
Varkas spurred his horse forward without a word.
As they passed through the castle gates, the mounted warriors fell in behind him. A heavy scent of wine clung to them, suggesting they had made merry rather rowdily the night before.
Varkas scanned the faces of the cavalrymen and spoke dryly to Tyrone, who was riding at his side.
“Bring Lucas to the front. Until we return to Kalmor, I will oversee his training myself.”
Tyrone shot him an uneasy look.
Was he worried that he would break the green boy?
Varkas let out a faint, scoffing breath and added coldly,
“Do I need to say it twice?”
“…I will bring him at once.”
Tyrone wheeled his mount and rode toward the rear of the column.
A short while later, Lucas rode up with a sullen face.
Varkas looked his younger brother up and down with detached eyes and tilted his chin slightly.
“From here on, you take point as scout. Move to the front.”
A flicker of tension showed clearly on the boyish face that still bore the softness of adolescence. It seemed he had grasped what kind of trial awaited him.
Varkas gave a sharp jerk of his chin.
“What are you waiting for? Get to the front.”
After a brief hesitation, the boy flicked the reins and rode to the head of the line.
Varkas cast cold words at his rigidly set back.
“From this point on, you are not permitted to break formation at will or leave my sight. If you fail in your duties, you will answer for it.”
“Your Grace, the young master is still green—”
“Tyrone El Drakan.”
The vassal, having spoken out of turn, clamped his mouth shut instantly.
Varkas delivered his first and final warning.
“Interrupt me once more, and you will pay for it.”
A chilling silence descended over the riders. They understood well enough that the warning was meant for every man among them.
Sweeping the cavalry with a sharp glance, Varkas turned his gaze back to Lucas.
“Ride.”
Lucas, who had been stealing glances back over his shoulder, spurred his mount forward. Varkas followed directly behind his brother.
Their plan was to make a wide sweep through the northeast before heading south.
They would ride as far as the border of the former Alex Kingdom, then cut west to inspect the southeastern lands. Finally, after touring the northwest and reaching Kalmor, the circuit of the territory would be complete.
At most, it would take roughly fifteen days.
More than enough time to drill some sense into a reckless younger brother.
Trailing close behind Lucas, Varkas kept careful watch on their surroundings. He had no intention of interfering with the boy’s scouting unless real danger arose.
Fortunately, Lucas picked out the trail with reasonable skill, never wandering too far from the designated route.
Still, lacking any experience leading a company, he repeatedly plunged down narrow, desolate paths without a thought for those following behind.
Forced time and again to double back along the trail, Lucas grew visibly sullen.
“Make sure you study the map thoroughly. We must reach the vicinity of Brinack tomorrow.”
Having reached the campsite only as the sun was nearly swallowed by the horizon, Varkas spoke coldly to his brother.
“If our march is delayed, it falls entirely on you. Keep your wits about you and pull your weight.”
“…Why is that my fault?”
Varkas, who had dismounted and was leading his mount toward the watering trough, paused and looked back.
Lucas was glaring at him with defiance in his eyes.
“The only reason we’re delayed is because you’re venting your temper over yesterday like a child!”
Sharp intakes of breath rose from all sides.
Tension crept into Lucas’s face as well. Yet, perhaps convinced that Varkas would not truly lay a hand on him, the boy held his tanned neck stiff and unyielding.
Varkas let out a slow sigh and walked toward his brother.
Lucas foolishly thrust his chin higher and glared with both eyes blazing.
A dry laugh slipped from Varkas’s lips. He reached out and brushed back the boy’s mussed, dark brown curls. Startled by the sudden touch, Lucas flinched, his shoulders locking stiff. Varkas clamped his hand onto the back of the boy’s head and drew his face close to those pale, frightened features.
“If I intended to take out my anger over yesterday, I would have dragged you to the sparring ring instead of wasting my breath on this tedious chore.”
All color drained from the sun-browned face. To that sheltered boy who had never known a shred of responsibility in his life, Varkas murmured softly,
“Be grateful that you are not yet a man and that you share my blood, Lucas. Otherwise, instead of riding at my head, you would have ended up where Alec Gutban lies.”
· · ·
“If you understand what I am telling you, offer your brother a proper apology.”
“…I apologize, Brother.”
“Good. I will overlook your insolence.”
He continued in an even tone.
“Before long, you will also apologize for wagging your tongue so recklessly before my wife. For now, I am sparing you only because she refused to lay eyes on you.”
Lucas bit his lip.
Varkas looked down at the face burning crimson with humiliation for a beat, then released him with an indifferent flick of his wrist.
“Now go and do your duty.”
END