The Banquet (4)
Most of the nobles had expected Fiore to win. They had never so much as heard the name Adel, whereas Geon was one of Fiore's most notorious swordsmen. He had not become a personal guard by luck, nor by shouldering aside lesser knights.
So when the handbell rang, they assumed Geon's crushing offensive would follow.
Until Geon's right arm went tumbling across the dirt.
"Gaaaaah!!"
Geon crumpled where he stood in the training hall, loosing a scream more beast than man, clutching at his shoulder. Crimson poured from the severed stump.
"Guh—ghhhhk!!"
He had seen nothing. He had felt no presence at all. What had just happened, why his arm was rolling across the floor—Geon could not grasp a single piece of it.
Soft footsteps approached from beside him. His face gone white from the blood loss, Geon lifted his head.
Adel stood there, his expression utterly blank. Geon looked up into the eyes looking down at him.
…!
This was no greenhorn. Those were not the eyes of some nobody. Eyes like that belonged to only one kind of person—those worn down by combat until they were completely weathered. A wraith you must never make your enemy.
Even after cutting off an arm, not a single drop of blood stained the blade. Adel raised that sword high, meaning to take Geon's head.
"Adel!!"
With a bone-chilling whisper of steel, the blade stopped just beside Geon's throat. A thin line of red trickled down from his neck. A fraction of a second later and his head would have come off too.
Still not withdrawing his sword, Adel looked at Sien, who had stopped him.
"Stop. That's enough, Adel."
"But."
"It's enough. Don't—don't do any more than that."
At her restraint, Adel turned his head. Shock, terror, fear, and a dozen other emotions sat in the face of the knight staring up at him, gone deathly pale. The man could not be called weak—one might even say he was reasonably strong. But that was only by the standards of ordinary people. By Adel's measure, this man was nothing at all.
Adel quietly lowered his sword. Then he stepped toward Sien and spoke in a small voice.
"It is finished, Lady Sien."
Just as he said, the duel between the two houses ended in Fiore's crushing defeat in a mere five seconds.
What. What the hell was that? Damn it! What just happened?!
Etria bit down on her lip until it hurt. A result she had never once imagined had just exploded in her face. Geon—her own guard knight—had lost. And not an ordinary loss, but a humiliation so complete it made her skin crawl. He had even suffered the disgrace of losing an arm, the very life of a knight.
How is that even possible?! I didn't see a thing. Not a single thing, right up until Sir Geon's arm came off!
Lineage was not her only weapon. As heir to the renowned swordsmanship house of Fiore, her own blade was one of the strongest cards she held. And even she had not been able to follow what had happened. Something moved with the sound that started the duel, and the next instant red blood was spraying from Geon's arm. That was all her eyes had caught. How the attack had been made, along what path the sword had traveled—Etria had confirmed not a single detail.
"Congratulations, Head of House Lichtenauer."
"Our congratulations on your victory, Family Head."
"Thank you, everyone. Truly, thank you."
Watching that scene, Etria's fury only climbed higher. Her knight had been rushed away with his arm cut off. He would never hold a sword again. And not a soul was worrying over that. They had all flocked to Sien's side in an instant, lining up to offer their congratulations. These were the same people who should have been standing with her, mocking Sien. That woman should have been trembling with shame, swallowing her rage!
That bastard! That man Adel!
Etria turned her gaze on him. She had never heard of a knight of that caliber. Was he some secret weapon they had been raising for a day like this? Just before the duel began, he had seemed to use a Lichtenauer form. If she followed that thread through every possibility, his identity narrowed to one of two things: a master they had truly raised in secret, or talent brought in from outside.
Either way, I walked right into it. I underestimated them far too much.
She ground her teeth, chewing on her anger, and decided to endure the situation as it stood. Better to accept defeat with composure than to make a scene or say something foolish. That way she could at least salvage a scrap of dignity.
"…Head of House Lichtenauer."
She had no desire to bow her head to that repulsive woman, that lowborn half-blood, not when she herself carried Fiore's noble blood. But for the sake of her house and herself, she had to do it now.
"I congratulate you on your victory."
"Thank you, Young Mistress Etria."
"I also wish to convey my apologies. There was no other intent. I merely wished to see for myself the measure of Lichtenauer's strength…"
"You've seen that measure well enough, I trust. Does that mean you'll set aside your concerns about Lichtenauer now?"
There was an edge in Sien's voice. Those eyes, which had always held such warmth, were filled with unmistakable hostility.
"…Yes. That's right."
"I'm glad to hear it, Young Mistress Etria."
Anger surged in Etria all over again at that look. But what could she do? She had lost the duel. Opening her mouth any further here would only make her look ugly.
Instead, she shot meaningful glances at the nobles she was close with. A win was a win and a loss was a loss—but completely burying a knight was another matter. A measured cut would have been possible. He hadn't needed to take the arm. If other nobles raised that point rather than Etria herself, no one could accuse her side of having no pride, and the noble who spoke up might even become a new center of gravity.
"His Majesty the Emperor approaches!"
But even that was swallowed by a booming voice.
"His Majesty? Why so suddenly…"
"Hush. He's coming."
Just as the voice had said, the Emperor appeared at the entrance to the training hall. The moment the empire's absolute sovereign revealed himself, every head bowed. Before the Emperor, every noble was nothing more than another subject of the realm. Sien, Etria—all of them alike.
"…I heard there was a duel, so I came down to have a look."
The Emperor swept his gaze once across the training hall. Then he found the blood that had not yet been fully cleaned from the floor.
"Now then. Was this not said to be a light duel?"
"That is so, Your Majesty."
"Then what, pray, is that pool of blood on the floor?"
At the Emperor's words, Etria's eyes lit up. This is my chance. The imperial household had permitted a duel only within reasonable bounds. They would not have accounted for something on the level of cutting off an arm rather than a mere injury. And to spill blood in a sacred place where the Emperor himself was staying—the empire's absolute sovereign would have every right to be displeased.
Good. If I can just use this. If I play it well…
If she played it well, she might even be able to turn the situation around. That was what Etria was thinking as she started to step forward.
"Tsk, tsk. I shall let today's matter pass. It was a duel between House Lichtenauer and House Fiore, was it not? For houses of that standing, to be told to keep it light would be the greater dishonor. Would it not, young head of Fiore?"
"Eh? Ah—yes! Th-that is so, Your Majesty!"
"Speak of nothing but the victory and the defeat. I shall be generous regarding the blood that was shed. And to the victor, unsparing praise; to the vanquished, an honorable round of applause. Understood?"
"How could it be otherwise, Your Majesty."
Listening to the Emperor, Etria broke out in a cold sweat.
Th-this isn't right.
Something had gone wrong—badly, thoroughly wrong. This was not the picture she had been aiming for, not what she had hoped to see. She had never imagined the Emperor himself would step in and order them not to speak of the duel any further.
But the trial left for Etria was not over.
"Ah, and. Where is the head of House Lichtenauer?"
"I am here, Your Majesty."
Sien stepped carefully forward. The Emperor studied her for a long moment, then nodded.
"You resemble her. You look a great deal like the previous family head. I had already heard the news. A tragic affair, I understand. One who fought for the empire for more than twenty years—a truly lamentable thing."
"…"
"Though it comes far too late, I offer my condolences. It is a genuine regret."
"Not at all, Your Majesty. Your words alone are more than I deserve."
The exchange passing between the Emperor and Sien left the nobles feeling almost dazed. The princess taking an interest had already been more than enough. Now the Emperor himself had come forward to offer comfort in person. He could have sent someone in his place to convey his regards!
"Before long, the imperial household's condolences will be delivered to Lichtenauer as well."
"Your Majesty?"
Sien's reaction was one of complete incomprehension. At that, the Emperor glanced for a moment toward Adel—and simply smiled, kind and warm.
After the imperial banquet ended, on the road back to the trading company, both Sien and Karina stared blankly out the window.
What did he mean? That something would be delivered to the house?
It was true that Lichtenauer had devoted itself to the empire all this time. But for the imperial household to step forward like this was a little strange. Other houses had suffered their own tragedies. And what the imperial household usually concerned itself with was common subjects, not nobles. Why they were doing this all of a sudden, she simply could not tell.
While Sien tilted her head over the Emperor's inexplicable favor, Karina was sinking even deeper into confusion because of Adel.
Just who is that man?
To crush one of Fiore's finest so utterly. Is that even possible?
If he had won after a fierce struggle, that would have been one thing. No such battle had even taken place. It had happened in the blink of an eye. A renowned knight's right arm severed, and the man collapsing on the spot. At that level, even talking about a gap in skill was embarrassing.
I thought he was someone Fiore had sent.
If even Lichtenauer's own people were in awe of his skill, and if he had infiltrated them to scheme at something, Fiore had seemed the most likely source. But after today's duel, that probability was far too low. Rendering one of a house's finest knights permanently unable to fight, and planting a talent of that caliber as a spy—the costs simply did not add up.
What is he? What in the world is he? What?!
She had been fairly confident in her wealth and her information network. Today, that confidence felt as though it were crumbling to pieces around her.