Chapter 12
Chapter 2. Duke Richmond's Lover
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Five hundred knights with closely shaved heads, large and small scars earned from brushes with death, eyes burning with the desperation unique to those who claw to survive, gravelly voices, and mountain-like physiques, all turned their gazes to one place in unison.
"Oh, thank you."
While the senior knights were having an epiphany that 'an exclamation could be something other than a curse,' Andrew, who had handed Grace the water, blushed and nodded.
Andrew, barely seventeen, was the youngest son of Baron Isaac, who had only recently joined the knighthood following his brothers. Joseph had placed him in the coachman's seat instead of himself, reasoning that 'this handsome fellow would be more pleasing to the Princess than those nightmare-inducing guys.' Minor errands were a bonus.
"Your Grace, what if the Princess faints from all this?"
Joseph said, chewing on jerky, and Walter, who had been eating, looked up.
Grace's expression was bright. She seemed completely unconcerned, even though she must have felt overwhelmed by the literal downpour of attention.
"There's too much jerky. Give me half and you can have the rest, Sir."
"Ah, no!"
The young knight, accustomed to the inhuman treatment from his senior knights, was flustered by the polite and gentle offer from the Princess.
"Keep it for tomorrow, or give it to the others. Thank you for driving the carriage all day today. To think that a knight of Duke Richmond's household would be doing a coachman's job. I'm sorry."
"Ah, no, no! I love driving carriages!!"
Andrew's booming voice echoed through the dark mountain. Some burst into laughter, while others frowned at the volume, seemingly forgetting they were in the mountains.
"That punk needs more training."
As Grace smiled faintly and entered the carriage, Andrew squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't possibly ignore the 500 pairs of eyes piercing his back like arrows.
Please, don't let them open their mouths.
The young knight's prayer was shattered miserably by the voice of his second older brother, Sirius.
"I didn't know our Andy liked driving carriages?"
As his own flesh and blood opened the floodgates, the barrage began as if they had been waiting for it.
"Andy! We don't have a coachman at our house. Come to our house when we get back!!"
"Hey! Our house first! There's an order to things!"
"Send the wages to the family! We can't lend our precious youngest for free!!"
Andrew hung his head and clamped his mouth shut. After serving the elegant Princess and then facing these people... the words the capital nobles used to spout came to mind.
Typical, uncouth knights.
Joseph chuckled at the sight, and Walter poured cold water on him in a languid voice.
"Joseph, you shouldn't be laughing, especially since you dreamed of being a coachman, right?"
"Ah, Your Grace..."
At that moment, the scouting party sent a signal from the darkness.
[Northwest. Approximately one hundred.]
The expressions of the knights who had been joking around changed in an instant. Walter leisurely drank his water and then gestured to Joseph.
"Go take care of it."
"I'll take care of it quietly."
As Joseph stood up, about fifty of his subordinate knights rose with him, as if by agreement. Although his comrades left without making even the sound of stepping on grass, the remaining men didn't even change their breathing. It was a scene that showed their trust in their comrades.
"Fools. They only brought a hundred."
Someone's voice scattered through the wind, and as if by a lie, a heavy vibration was felt beneath their feet.
─Thump, thump.
The leisurely look in Walter's eyes changed at the steady vibration. At the same time, all the remaining knights moved in perfect order. Andrew also swallowed hard and stood close to the carriage with the Princess inside.
The murderous intent, enough to make even demons crawling out of hell retreat, seemed to lower the cold night temperature even further. The vibration that had been heard from afar seemed to rush closer, and then a chilling howling began.
The knights drew their weapons as if by agreement, and Walter strode to the carriage and flung the door open.
Grace, sitting upright, showed no sign of surprise. She must have been watching the situation outside.
"You are to obey Andrew. Don't be afraid."
"I understand."
"It will be over soon."
The sounds of death began to be heard from all directions, breaking the peace. The sounds of blades clashing grew louder as the battle between Joseph's knights and the assassins seemed to have begun, and the dull thud of footsteps shaking the ground grew closer every moment. At the same time, the sound of swift, four-legged creatures descending the mountain poured down like rain.
As Walter disappeared among the knights, Andrew quickly reached out his hand to her. Magical beasts tended to target large things like carriages first.
"Put on your hood and come down!"
Grace moved quickly. As soon as she got out of the carriage, the scream of a werewolf, killed by the knights' swords, was heard. The appearance of the troll illuminated by the torch was hideous, and the howling to confuse the enemy seemed to drive them crazy.
Even when faced with trolls and werewolves in the pitch-black night and rugged terrain, Grace didn't ask unnecessary questions or make a fuss in fear. Instead, she stared intently, surveying the knights who were sweeping through the battlefield.
They were the ones who had survived for a full ten years in the Wall of Death, where they said no one could last even a year. Even among these great warriors, it was clear who the leader was.
Walter's presence seemed to swallow even sound. There was nothing left in the place he passed, and it was impossible to even guess how he fought. Grace was mesmerized by his god-of-war-like figure, dancing with his sword, so overwhelmed that she was unaware of her own reaction.
At that moment, a gust of wind blew. Before Grace could even grab it, her hood was blown off, and her brilliant blonde hair embroidered the darkness.
"Andy!!! Above!!!"
At someone's shout, Andrew reflexively swung his sword into the air. But the gargoyle, shaped like an eagle, was faster in snatching Grace. It seemed that Grace's blonde hair had caught the eye of the creature, which was crazy about shiny things.
"Princess!!!"
Walter, who had just beheaded a werewolf, looked back in surprise, and Grace was hanging precariously from the gargoyle's claws.
Without thinking further, Walter ran towards Grace.
But Andrew, who was closer, was faster. As the young knight threw himself forward, swinging his sword as if to make up for his mistake, the gargoyle, with its wings cut, screamed miserably and flapped its wings before dropping Grace.
The problem was that it was right above the slope.
"No!!"
The boy, having discarded his sword, threw himself towards the falling Princess. By the time Walter ran madly, Andrew and Grace had already disappeared below the slope.
