Sleet
"Sis?"
Sharen called out in a voice that sank into a whisper. She was so flustered that she could scarcely believe the scene unfolding before her eyes. Logically speaking, why would Lianna be here?
"Sharen, you've arrived."
But the moment those words left her lips, Sharen's body went rigid. That was the real Lianna Helmont. The unmistakable, chilling killing intent that only she could sense from her sister was roiling through the room, dominating the space.
Kelsie! She shot a pleading glance at her maid for help, but Kelsie could only bow her head and do nothing more.
"S-Sis? How did you even get here?"
"Is that really the important part right now?"
"Y-Yes, it is! Dad's gonna flip if he finds out you're here!"
"Yeah, he probably would."
Lianna nodded. "Don't worry about it."
Her expression made it clear she truly didn't care. It contrasted sharply with her usual habit of watching Father's moods.
What the...?
This only made Sharen more flustered. It even felt like Lianna was deliberately courting the family head's wrath.
"Sharen."
Whatever the case, one thing was clear: her sister was seriously pissed right now.
Why should I be scared of her?! Staring down the strangely intimidating Lianna, Sharen reverted to her usual brash attitude.
"What's the big deal, Sis? If you came all the way here, there must be something worth hearing, right?!"
"Ah, Miss."
"Kelsie, stay out of it. I'm here at the Mallidan Wall representing the Helmonts. But Sis, you're defying the family head's orders! I have every right to reprimand you-!"
"Did you have a good time with Isaac?"
"S-Sis..."
Sharen's tail immediately tucked between her legs. Her shoulders slumped as she floundered, at a loss for words.
"You know, Sharen. Isaac is my husband."
"......"
She wanted to add "for now," but Lianna's ferocious aura kept Sharen's mouth shut.
"To outsiders, it might just look like a brother-in-law and sister-in-law getting along well."
Lianna drew closer, step by step. Her crimson eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness.
"But I know what feelings you've been harboring."
"S-Sis?"
Now half in tears, Sharen looked up at her sister.
"Don't do that, Sharen."
Lianna gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek, her voice tinged with bitterness. "I don't want to see Isaac suffer because of the Helmonts anymore."
"S-Sis?"
Only now, with her so close, did Sharen finally grasp the depth of emotion hidden within her sister.
"It's time to let go."
Deep regret. And yet, her inability to fully release it...
"Let him go."
...must stem from love just as profound.
"......Sis."
At this point, Sharen couldn't help but feel bewildered. It was the very question even Kelsie hadn't dared ask. The reason Lianna would defy Arandel Helmont, the family head himself, to come here.
"Why are you here?"
In response, Lianna offered only a pained smile, nothing more.
* * *
"I know."
"Pardon?"
"I know. I get it too."
"......What are you talking about, Miss?"
"Nothing. It's no big deal. Just treat him like a friend."
"Talking to yourself?"
Anna watched Silberna mutter endlessly to herself, growing more perplexed by the second.
What's gotten into her?
"This isn't like me. Yeah, no need to make it awkward."
She'd wondered why Silberna was acting so out of character. The answer came comically quick.
"You idiot! Is that the best you can do with Red Aura? And you call yourself a Helmont knight?!"
"I-I'm sorryyy!"
"......"
The next morning, at the training grounds. Sharen was berating Jonathan over his pitiful Red Aura. Isaac, meanwhile, observed the pair while jotting notes.
His posture—pen in hand, scribbling away—had become so routine it felt natural. Was he researching Helmont swordsmanship? He diligently recorded Sharen's lecture on Red Aura.
"Ahem, Isaac?"
Silberna approached awkwardly.
"Oh, Silberna."
Isaac greeted her and Sharen casually. Before the hesitant Silberna could speak, he beat her to it.
"Got a hair tie? My hair's gotten longer than I thought."
"Now that you mention it, yeah."
His ponytail brushed his shoulders. Anna pulled a spare from her pocket.
"Do you know how to tie it?"
"Eh, more or less."
In his previous life, he'd often holed up writing books, tying his growing hair into a neat ponytail each time.
Once Isaac had it neatly bound, Silberna stared down at him, looking oddly aggrieved, and burst out.
"Y-You, you wanna die?!"
"......Why?"
"Miss?"
"T-Tying your hair like th-that..."
Her face flushed, she seemed desperate to say something but covered her mouth, swallowing the words.
"Go see the blacksmith! I told him you'd be coming."
"Ah! The thing from yesterday!"
Isaac jumped up excitedly and headed straight for the forge, oblivious to the stares boring into his back from Silberna and Anna.
The Mallidan forge sat in the wall's innermost corner. The noise and acrid smells made it impossible to place anywhere else, but it was one of the frontline's most vital facilities. Ask anyone in the North for the warmest spot, and they'd all point here.
"You've got the looks to make women swoon."
"Pardon?"
Isaac blinked in confusion at the blacksmith's gruff remark the moment he stepped inside. The man tsked, swinging his hammer.
"Making a sword for a bookish pretty boy like you. Miss Silberna's too soft."
"He's a paying customer. Mind your manners."
"Blacksmiths swing hammers with stubborn pride. I should be able to choose who wields my weapons, no?"
"Money's no object, then?"
"That's why the wife nags me."
The blacksmith roared with laughter. Despite the North's chill, his sleeveless arms bore vivid burn scars and blade marks.
"Anyway, since Silberna vouched for me, I trust you'll craft my sword."
"Tch, fine."
A sly smile crept across his face. These artisans were rough around the edges, but their skill was unmatched. They treated weapons as art, pouring their best into every piece regardless of the client. As a Kaldias blacksmith, his prowess was a given. Living on the front lines meant endless hammer strikes, no days off.
His apprentices, visible behind him, all exuded masterly auras.
"I brought blueprints."
The blacksmith snatched them, scoffing. "Ha! What a joke! Taking designs from an amateur to forge a sword-!"
His rant halted abruptly. His apprentices glanced over curiously—clearly a first. After a long study, he looked up at Isaac, eyes heavy with solemnity.
"......Did you come up with this?"
"Strictly speaking, no. I got advice from several sources."
A good sword was essential for a swordsman; wielding one well was a mark of talent. In his past life, Isaac hadn't studied just technique—he'd sought counsel from countless smiths on blades themselves.
"Unusual design."
"Strictly speaking, it's called a taedo."
"Taedo? Hmm, intriguing. Similar to your pearl sword, but different."
Isaac smiled wryly. It was a transcendent weapon, after all.
"Not much for brute clashes, huh? Light, sure, but so thin—it won't hold up in a strength contest."
"That's why I'm using it. I'm not strong enough otherwise."
He admitted his limits candidly.
"Looks like it'd snap after a few swings."
"Then you'd have failed as a smith, no?"
"Hmph."
"That's why I came to the best. If you're not up for it, I'll go."
"Childish provocation."
The blacksmith grinned, clenching a fist. "And I'm pretty childish myself."
Decades of fearless challenges had landed him here.
"Wait right there. It'll take trial and error."
"Fine by me."
The great cluster was ongoing; he had time. Isaac planned full cooperation for his custom blade.
As the smith turned back to the forge with the blueprints, he paused. "One thing... You're Helmont, right?"
"Yes."
"Helmonts don't take kindly to not using greatswords, do they?"
Isaac chuckled. "A sword's purpose is to cut, isn't it?"
"Hm?"
"The moment I pick up a greatsword, it's not a blade to me—just dead weight."
"......"
"I need a sword."
The smith eyed his resolute declaration, then approached for a handshake.
"Antonio. The man who'll give you a real sword. Least remember the name."
"Isaac."
* * *
Back at the training grounds after Isaac left.
"Hey, you moron! Can't you even do this? It's basic!"
"I-I'm sorryyy!"
Hidden amid Jonathan's tearful apologies under Sharen's strict training, Anna whispered, "Miss, what's wrong?"
"Anna."
Silberna's lips trembled before she spilled her grievance. "You were right."
"Miss?"
"I... I think I like him."
"......!"
Anna's eyes widened; she quickly scanned around. Sharen and Jonathan were lost in their drill. The only other figure was a masked maid at a distance—too far to overhear.
"Miss, you cannot tell a soul about this. Got it?"
"I know... That's why I'm only telling you."
"Sigh, alright. He's a married man. And a Helmont. Love's noble, sure, but it ruins lives too—you know that, right?"
"Yeah."
Silberna slumped. Anna hugged her tight, patting her back.
"Sigh, our miss. What am I gonna do with you."
"Anna... Am I weird?"
"No, Miss. Who can control falling in love? It's just... just..."
Anna hesitated, then sniffled along. "A little—just a little—too late."
It felt like a stone had settled heavy in her chest. Good thing she had the day off. Time to sort her feelings quietly.
Sigh, even the heavens are indifferent.
The first snow of the season for her lady's heart: sleet, of all things.