Even at the Cost of My Life #11
“What are you doing here, Cately?”
At Alon’s sharp question, Cately desperately hid her panic as she answered.
“I just… had a lot on my mind. Besides, isn’t the joust still underway? I thought you’d be there.”
“You weren’t in sight, so I came looking for you. When I went to your room, you weren’t there either. So I came to my office on the off chance you might be here.”
As Alon spoke, his eyes swept across the desk. Cately felt her heart tighten in her chest.
“What were you doing?”
“Nothing at all. I was simply thinking.”
Cately clenched her teeth beneath her lips where he couldn’t see and answered calmly.
“The joust isn’t over yet, is it? Then let’s go together. There must be a great deal to do—congratulating the winner and so on.”
“That’s true. There will be a great many things to do. After today passes… you’ll be quite busy as well. So many tasks will pile up.”
“I don’t mind. That is my duty, after all.”
Alon still wore a suspicious expression, but Cately tried to walk past him and leave the office.
“Wait.”
Yet Alon’s hand—almost brutal in its grip—seized her shoulder.
Cately nearly screamed.
“…What is it?”
When Cately turned her head, Alon was staring at her intently.
He narrowed his eyes for a moment, studying her, then continued.
“What is that scent?”
“Scent?”
“There’s a peculiar smell… Yes, the fragrance of orange blossoms. Isn’t it?”
“Orange blossoms? That’s right. I applied some perfume oil.”
Alon wrinkled the bridge of his nose.
“Perfume oil? That’s not all. There’s a sweet scent. Sweeter than perfume. Yes.”
Alon reached out and laid his hand on Cately’s cheek. To her, that hand felt terrifyingly cold.
“You’ve been strange lately. It’s not just the scent… Your speech, your attitude, every single gesture—everything about you has become astonishingly captivating.”
His hand slowly caressed her, sliding down from her shoulder. His face buried itself against the nape of her neck.
“Ah, why have I never noticed your charm until now? You are beautiful. Truly.”
In that instant, Cately felt nothing but revulsion. Any man’s touch other than Emil’s was unbearably disgusting. Even if that man was her husband.
“Alon, stop this. This isn’t the time.”
“Not the time? I can’t even remember when it was the time. You were always too strong. That held no appeal for me. But the way you are now… is astonishingly captivating.”
Cately squeezed her eyes shut and tried to imagine that the hand stroking her belonged to Emil. She struggled to pretend the breath against her skin was his.
“Alon… enough!”
But it was impossible.
Cately could endure no more and shoved him away.
Her husband stared at her with stunned eyes.
Her voice trembled as she spoke.
“Go back to the women you enjoy toying with. Those lowly prostitutes you summon to your bed every night. Don’t even think about playing with something you grew tired of and discarded!”
Alon hissed through his teeth in fury.
“What… How dare you speak to me like that? You are my wife. Damn it! You are my property—to be used whenever I wish and to bear my children!”
“I am not a prostitute. And I am certainly not your property!”
Alon’s face turned beet red with rage.
“Do as you please, you wretched woman! A diseased whore would be better than you. At least she wouldn’t dare refuse me!”
Cately turned away without listening further.
“Damn it, get out! Get out of here!”
Alon’s roar chased her from behind.
She didn’t listen. Only the contents of the letter she had just read filled her mind.
‘Emil is in danger. I have to warn him…!’
She pretended to be angry and hurried away from Alon with quick steps.
The joust was growing even more heated.
Countless lances shattered against shields, and several knights fell from their horses, screaming in misery.
“Priest, who is that knight? His shield is painted entirely black with no crest. Even his armor is black.”
“Ah… that is what they call a Mystery Knight. He enters the lists without revealing his family or origin. In short, he is a childish knight who is overly fond of chivalric romance tales.”
Roen chimed in from the side.
“Indeed. In stories it may sound romantic, but in reality such behavior usually ends in humiliation—unless one has the confidence to win, of course.”
Yet the black knight truly seemed to possess that confidence. He began felling renowned knights one after another.
Finally, the black knight advanced all the way to the finals.
On the opposite side of the arena, Cately’s brother, Aiden Romanden, was mounting his horse.
“That so-called black knight doesn’t appear to be a mere childish braggart. It would be difficult to predict the outcome even against my brother.”
Roen spoke with admiration.
“By Roen’s brother, do you mean Sir Neil?”
“Ah, Neil certainly possesses excellent horsemanship and courage… but he does not often participate in jousts.”
Roen corrected her.
“The brother I spoke of is my eldest brother, Gildeon. He has competed in jousts since long ago. He won every match he entered.”
“Sir Gildeon, I see. Sir Neil mentioned him as well… though he didn’t speak very favorably of his brother.”
“Yes. Neil does not like Gildeon. It is simply the sort of sibling rivalry found in any household.”
At that moment, a cry of astonishment erupted from the arena.
Aiden Romanden had been thrown from his horse.
Daisy, seated beside Alon Ricgard, let out a small scream at her uncle’s fall.
‘Oh dear. Normally I would have to comfort her… but I’m sorry, Daisy.’
Instead, he wrapped his arms around Leni’s shoulders.
Leni let out a pleased little sound.
“I’m fine, Priest.”
“Yes. You weren’t startled, were you?”
Next came the moment for Alon Ricgard to step forward and congratulate the winner.
When Alon asked the knight’s identity, the black knight replied that he would reveal it at the evening banquet.
“Good heavens. It seems that black knight really is overly fond of chivalric tales after all.”
Roen offered that assessment.
Emil agreed with her.
When he glanced toward Alon’s seat, his eyes met Daisy’s downcast gaze.
Emil gave an awkward smile and quickly looked away.
It didn’t feel good, but at the moment Emil’s attention was elsewhere… on Lady Cately, who should have been at her daughter’s side.
‘She’s been gone from her seat for some time. I thought Alon had gone to find her… but they didn’t return together.’
While he was pondering this,
someone grabbed his shoulder from behind.
“Emil…!”
“Who—Lady Cately?”
Emil frowned.
Damn it, why was she approaching him so openly?
He had already drawn Leni’s suspicion once…
“Emil, I need to speak with you for a moment.”
“Lady Cately, I don’t know what this is about, but I am currently with the princess…”
“Please, it’s urgent. Emil!”
She looked desperate.
Only then did he realize she had called him Emil instead of Priest Emil.
“Princess. Please excuse me for a moment.”
“…Yes.”
Leni looked displeased.
It couldn’t be helped.
Cately practically dragged Emil to a secluded spot and spoke urgently.
“Emil, you must run. Leave Iredain. Go anywhere. Quickly.”
“…What are you suddenly saying?”
The choice of words reminded him of his first meeting with Leni.
Cately spoke in a rush.
“I read Alon’s letter. He was discussing some plan with someone… I couldn’t understand everything. But it clearly said they were to dispose of the priest.”
Just as expected.
He had thought as much.
It seemed Neil’s worries had been correct after all.
“Then Alon Ricgard has not given up on his rebellion?”
“I’m not sure about that much. But the letter said they were to deal with you…”
Cately’s body was trembling.
Her trembling hands, her desperate eyes—Cately’s obsession burned like a dark flame. The sweet scent of orange blossoms mixed with the rot of betrayal. She would rather see him flee than lose him forever.
“Run, Emil. It will break my heart if you disappear, but it will destroy me if you die. I… I cannot bear that.”
“But I must protect the princess…”
“Are you still saying that? You could die. The princess has knights to guard her and a queen who will save her. But if you die, what am I supposed to do?”
Cately spoke with heartrending desperation.
Her words shook Emil.
‘That’s right. Leni has Roen and Neil. What help could I possibly be? In the end, it wasn’t me who saved Leni last time—it was Neil… It would be right for me to save my own life first.’
Since when had Emil cared so deeply for Leni anyway? If his life was in danger, the sensible choice was to run first.
There would be time to think about what came after he survived. Wasn’t that so…?
“Hurry, Emil. I know a hidden path out of the castle. Once the banquet begins, Alon will notice you’re gone. We must hurry. Quickly!”