The Trash Lady Who Stole the Duke's First Night
Chapter 17
“Please, everyone, offer your deepest condolences to the Young Duke of Schuppenhardt for having so tragically broken his engagement with the imperial family. If anyone takes issue with the Young Duke’s pious sense of duty, feel free to take it up directly with His Holiness Pope Gregory.”
With a cold smile, the Imperial Princess finished speaking.
While the elderly nobles rose from their seats, shouting or murmuring Pope Gregory’s name with grim, hardened expressions,
a woman who had been slumping sideways in her seat spat out a curse and shoved herself up.
“…Fucking Schuppenhardt.”
Harry, who had been lost in thought with his innocent, refined face, swiftly caught her wrist. Though as Commander of the Holy Knights his build was broader than most men’s, her frame was so thick and solid that he couldn’t even wrap his fingers all the way around it.
“Oh, dear. Great General, where are you going? His Holiness the Pope instructed you to attend Parliament throughout the session and then secure the pilgrimage route—”
“Shut up, you little bastard. Don’t cling to me.”
Harry let out a hushed chuckle.
“Great General, I’m a commander now, too. In the House of Nobles, you ought to speak to me with a little respect—”
Rolling her bulky, muscular shoulders, the woman violently shook off the prince, strode forward, and kicked open the golden doors of the House of Nobles.
❖ ❖ ❖
Despite the priests’ efforts to control them, the crowd surged like a tidal wave. Elio pressed herself flat against a wall and unfolded her map.
…Schweiz, the great fief of the North, enclosed by rugged Dragon Mountains and national borders.
Bordering the Capital to the west, the Papal State just to the south, and the Cyprus border along with the Dragon Mountains to the north, it almost looked completely isolated.
The thought of starting a new life in Schweiz sent anxiety running wild, yet a tiny flicker of excitement peeked through at the same time.
It was the largest territory in the Empire, after all. Surely there would be plenty of work.
If she could just find work as a low-ranking healer, somewhere would surely provide room and board.
Elio chewed on her lower lip as she folded the map away.
“Will we arrive tomorrow?”
“Probably.”
Ending their sweet, fleeting break in the corner of the alley, she followed Carlos as he gestured to her, stepping out into the procession of pilgrims.
Two weeks had already passed since they left Aquitaine, and only now was the end of their long journey in sight. To make matters worse, their route coincided with the pilgrimage for the Archangel’s Nativity, causing crowds to flood the streets like crashing waves.
“Do they really believe praying will cure them?”
Watching the dense procession of sick people weeping and crying out for miracles, Carlos clicked his tongue coldly.
Elio stumbled in the crowd, her brow furrowing. She let out a sigh at the man, who clearly had zero faith in the gods—if anything, he’d sooner blaspheme them.
“It’s because they’re desperate. If someone in your family fell ill, Sir, you’d be praying to every god in the world right away, too.”
“…”
“You’ve never prayed to God, have you?”
“I have. Damnably so.”
At Carlos’s calm reply, Elio’s eyes widened.
“Why?”
“Because family was sick.”
Carlos answered as if it were nothing, leaving Elio flustered as she moistened her lips.
“I’m glad you’re healthier than you look.”
Carlos curled the corner of his lips into a faint smirk at the woman who had stubbornly endured the arduous two-week journey without a single complaint. As the crowd jostled her away, he wrapped a hand around her shoulder and pulled her close to his side.
“Put your hood up properly.”
He shoved the hood back down over her head, as if trying to hide the face she had peeked out.
“Y-You’re not wearing yours properly either…”
Wondering which of his family members was sick, Elio parted her lips before trailing off, hunching her shoulders. The tide of pilgrims journeying to the holy land surged so violently that being jostled felt like being battered by boulders.
Cold sweat beading on her skin, she grabbed the hem of Carlos’s cloak. With a sigh, Carlos pulled her against his chest.
“Hold on to me.”
Drawn in by his grip, Elio caught sight of Grita standing tall beside him and flinched, pulling her hand away from his cloak.
It was a reflexive reaction—prompted by Grita’s gaze staring quietly at her hand.
“My Lady. Are you struggling?”
Standing rock-steady, Grita asked Elio with a conflicted expression.
Elio quickly shook her head, forcing her awkwardly stiff lips into a smile.
“No. I just bumped into someone for a moment. I’m all right.”
“Take my hand instead.”
Grita reached out to Elio, who was leaning against Carlos. Meeting Grita’s gently curved eyes, Elio hesitated.
“Leon. What about the Holy Knights?”
“They’re still patrolling around. Seems they’ve split into squads. I have no idea why they’re out here during Parliament.”
While Carlos spoke with Leon, Elio swallowed hard, looking at the smile on Grita’s face as she offered her arm.
She didn’t want to because it felt awkward. Yet refusing Grita’s arm and trying to walk on her own only to get knocked down by the crowd seemed like an even bigger nuisance.
“My Lady?”
Flustered over why she was agonizing over something so simple, Elio began reaching her hand toward Grita.
Just then, a muscular arm wrapped around her waist, and a firm body pressed right against her back.
“I told you to hold on to me. What do you think you’re doing?”
Clicking his tongue at the woman squirming with a bright red face, Carlos pulled her even more firmly into his embrace. Shoving her hood down, he looked toward Leon and Grita.
“Go to the Tarke Inn and secure some rooms. Ahead of those Holy Knight bastards.”
“Commander.”
“Go on.”
When Carlos cut her off decisively, Grita looked at him with an oddly bitter expression.
For some reason, Elio couldn’t take her eyes off her face.
…Regret? Lingering feelings?
As if time had paused, the subtle shifts in Grita’s expression seemed to unfold in slow motion.
Just what was the relationship between these two…?
“Hold my arm. Grab my waist, my leg, grab whatever you want. Just hold on.”
Elio snapped back to reality like glass shattering. Carlos had locked her completely within his arm, carrying her along in his embrace as he walked.
“S-Sir! I can walk!”
Holding her flush against him without an inch of space, the man forged effortlessly through the crowd using his own body as a shield.
Buried in his chest, Elio opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. Pressed seamlessly against his dense, rock-hard muscles, her brain felt as if it were burning hot on a stove.
Any lingering thought of whether it was appropriate to hold her so tightly right in front of Grita vanished, leaving her mind completely blank.
As they plunged deeper into the throng, people towering far over her height pressed in from all sides. The chaotic din of prayers, curses, and screams left Elio increasingly dazed.
Watching the alleyways turned into a living hell—horses and people tangled so densely that carriages were out of the question, a mob so thick someone could easily be trampled to death—Elio stared in open-mouthed wonder at whether this was truly the sight God desired.
“Appoint His Highness the Prince as Crown Prince!”
“Everyone! Why do you think the dragons, beloved of God, perished?! Why do the dragons that God Himmel cherished most keep degenerating into evil dragons while monsters overrun our lands?! It means this world is doomed! This is a world abandoned by God! We must vanquish the monsters with the light and glory of His Highness the Prince!”
The priests made no move to stop the men shouting as if agitating the commoners, merely looking on with blank, passive stares.
As Elio bit her lip, her head spinning even more, Carlos pulled her waist tight against him and spoke in a soothing tone.
“Grempins are thick enough to blot out the sky. Taking the pilgrimage route is safer than cutting straight through the mountain range.”
Exhaling a warm breath, Elio fumbled and took hold of his sturdy forearm.
“They’ve blotted out the sky?”
Recalling how the man had returned from his reconnaissance unscathed, Elio asked in a thin voice.
“You made it back just fine back then, Sir.”
“Did you think I’d actually lose to mere grempins?”
Clicking his tongue, Carlos repeatedly tugged Elio’s hood back down whenever it slipped off.
“It’s stuffy. Why do you keep pulling it down? I can’t see ahead.”
“I’m watching for you.”
“I-I need to see, too. What good is it if only you’re looking?”
Holding on to the hood that kept covering her eyes with both hands and sweating profusely, she walked for what felt like ages until the narrow downhill path ended and flat ground opened up their view at last.
Having been swept along trapped in Carlos’s arm, Elio only caught her breath after he released her, leaning against the wall almost collapsing as she sat.
“Sir. Um… is someone in your family ill?”
Carlos let out a faint scoff as he pulled out a cigar and lit it. With deafening cheers, the fireworks celebrating the Archangel’s Nativity burst into the sky.
“Just watch the fireworks.”
Elio gazed quietly at the man’s sculpted profile, bathed in the flickering light of the fireworks.
Across the resolute jaw of a man who looked like a god of war, shades of red and yellow flickered with a warm glow.
“What?”
“I-I’m too short to see them anyway.”
When she pouted and retorted with flushed cheeks, he let out a chuckle. Glancing around for a moment, he reached out, pulled his hood low, and rose to his feet.
“Goodness! Sir!”
He lifted her by the waist straight into the air. The hem of her white skirt fluttered in the breeze. Elio gripped his forearms, her mouth agape.
A summer night showered with prayers of blessing and bursts of laughter.
Fireworks burst across the twilight sky, looking like thousands of fireflies taking flight all at once.
“Can you see now?”
Was this what the Archangel’s blessing truly felt like? Fantastical sparks cut across the dark sky like a meteor shower, glittering brightly.
“N-No, I can’t.”
“Little kid.”
Carlos’s low laugh rumbled beneath her. His powerful hands hoisted her even higher.
The man’s hands were warm, and the open summer breeze brushed coolly against her cheeks.
“…I’m only short compared to you, Sir. I’m average for an adult woman. …Don’t treat me like a child.”
The slightly humid air. Layer upon layer of overlapping laughter. The cool night wind fluttering her hair like a kite.
Savoring her very first taste of freedom in an unfamiliar foreign land, Elio stretched both arms toward the sky, her lips parting in awe.
“Can you see now, my lady?”
“Yes! I can see it now!”
Elio promptly answered like a haughty lady.
“Ah. So it’s only visible to ladies, is it?”
The man chuckled softly and lifted her higher still.
Soaring into the sky just like the three-year-old child beside her, Elio ultimately burst into laughter alongside him before the most beautiful fireworks she had ever seen in her life.
❖ ❖ ❖
“Aren’t you going to eat, Sir?”
“No.”
Once the fireworks ended, the street food alley grew even more bustling.
While watching the Holy Knights holding chicken skewers and laughing boisterously, Elio looked closely at the heat-radiating man who kept giving off an uncomfortably blazing warmth.
Would it be all right to ask who in his family was ill…?
