The Weight of the Watch
Count Roxen’s daily routine had changed very little over the years. He spent the vast majority of his days buried under mountains of paperwork, always confronted by an endless pile of tasks demanding his attention. Even now, with the Grand Ducal throne vacant, his routine remained largely unchanged. If anything, his workload had grown heavier, casting deep shadows beneath his eyes. Though he had effectively taken control of the Grand Duchy, he lived a life entirely devoid of luxury. He had been a key administrator of the Ilencia Grand Duchy for years; material wealth was something he had secured long ago. Count Roxen was simply not built for indulgence.
The finest delicacies from across the continent? Marveling at gourmet food was a novelty that wore off after a day or two; once his youth had slipped away, no dish could stir his appetite. Moreover, the Empire’s culinary culture relied far too heavily on meat. The Count was a sedentary man, and meat was not easily digested. At some point, he had transitioned to a diet consisting almost entirely of bread, vegetables, and a bit of fruit. It was a modest spread that even a minor viscount in some backwater corner of the countryside could easily afford.
Vast fortunes of gold, precious gems, and extravagant garments meant absolutely nothing to him. He was fast approaching fifty. What use did a frail, middle-aged man have for such ostentatious displays? He would be fortunate enough if the stress of future invoices didn't claim the rest of his hair. He was an administrator to his very bones. Aside from a perfectly balanced ledger, there was precious little in this world that brought him joy.
“My Lord, it is Yulen. May I enter?”
“Come in.”
The voice was so familiar it had long since become a part of his daily routine. As always, his adjutant stepped inside and set down a stack of documents. Normally, this would have been the end of their interaction, but the Count still had a question to ask.
“What of the children?”
“The reports from the Sewer Rats are delayed, My Lord. They have significantly exceeded the agreed-upon deadline.”
“Does that mean they failed, or have they run?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
Count Roxen let out a deep sigh. Under normal circumstances, his adjutant should have arrived today with a report of the children's deaths, accompanied by proof. That proof meant the severed heads of the siblings. He had intended to verify them with his own eyes before burning them to ashes.
He tapped his fingers against the desk three or four times—a habit of his whenever he felt a tightness in his chest and needed to organize his thoughts. The faces of the siblings flashed through his mind. They were children who had trusted him implicitly. Innocent, naive little things, young enough to walk straight into a death trap without suspecting a thing. He had set out to kill them, and yet, the attempt had failed.
“Which do you think it is?”
“I believe they failed, My Lord. Had they taken the money and attempted to flee, we would have captured them by now.”
“Indeed. They were never clever enough to slip past our eyes.”
Rajen. Was that brat the problem? He had heard the boy possessed some talent, so he had generously estimated his strength to be around the level of a regular knight of the family. It seemed even that estimate had fallen short.
This was truly unexpected. It was true he had employed bottom-feeding scum—after all, he had intended to dispose of them the moment the job was done. However, he hadn't just hired any random trash. He had selected men of decent caliber, primarily mercenaries who were wanted for crimes elsewhere. They were men who had at least tasted blood and knew how to swing a blade.
And yet, Therion and Rajen had managed to deal with them?
His dry voice muttered his thoughts aloud.
“This has become troublesome.”
Yes. It was an annoying development, but that was the extent of the Count's concern. Even if the siblings had escaped alive, it changed very little. Though he was always pressed for time, in this matter, he had plenty of leeway. He was entirely confident he could hunt down and kill those brats before they could accomplish anything.
Besides, would they even be able to escape that forest in the first place?
Though he had never spoken of it aloud, the forest where he had confined the siblings was a treacherous place. It was a wilderness so neglected that even the rumors about it had died out. A demonic realm capable of swallowing four young children in an instant. While he would send a pursuit party, it was far more likely they would return after recovering corpses rather than chasing living prey.
His adjutant inquired, “How shall we proceed? It will be difficult to deploy the family's official forces for this.”
“I know of some who are suited for this kind of work. I had hoped to avoid using them, but I have little choice.”
Since the wheels were already in motion, he would see it through to a clean end. From the Count's perspective, the siblings had to die in that forest. Quietly, without anyone ever knowing.
To achieve that, he needed a silent, highly capable group. They had to possess tracking skills sharp enough to swiftly run down fugitives, and their ambush had to be flawless, ensuring the siblings' breaths were cut short without any unnecessary fuss.
The nameless assassins. They did not move for cheap coin, but the current Count Roxen had more than enough resources to employ them.
“Ten days at the absolute latest. Within ten days, I want the heads of the Ilencia siblings brought before me.”
“Understood, My Lord.”
Just as the order was given, a commotion arose outside. Roxen's brow furrowed briefly, but his lips soon curved into a faint smile.
“My Lord, Young Master Glen has arrived.”
“Let him in at once!”
We traveled a bit further after our brief rest, but we didn't make it very far. Sirien protested, claiming she could keep going, but I thoroughly ignored her. The young lady of the Grand Duchy had been raised in such pampered luxury that she had absolutely no idea of the physical toll she would pay tomorrow if she pushed herself too hard today.
“Enough. Just get ready to camp. We're sleeping here tonight.”
“But the sun hasn't even set yet.”
“If you wait until it's dark to set up camp, it's already too late.”
“Ah, I see.”
We filled our stomachs with a simple meal from the supplies we had brought from the cabin. Perhaps she was ravenous from the walk, because Sirien ate significantly more than usual. Even with that factored in, it didn't change our overall timeline by much, but I realized I would need to pay closer attention to our food supply.
If we ration it carefully, do we have about three days left?
Despite packing as much as I possibly could, our provisions were still dangerously sparse. Since there was no guarantee we would escape this forest within three days, I would have to start hunting or foraging tomorrow, even if it was just basic gathering, to prepare for the worst. Fortunately, the forest seemed to have plenty of wild game. As long as we kept moving, opportunities would present themselves.
So, the most pressing issue wasn't actually the food.
“Are we really sleeping like this? Ugh, the ground is so cold and hard.”
Sirien lay down on the blanket and immediately grimaced. Even though I had brought the thickest, warmest blanket available despite its weight, it still wasn't enough to satisfy her. The cold could be managed to some extent by building a campfire, but the hardness of the earth was entirely beyond my power to fix.
“Come inside quickly, Rajen. Won't we be warmer if we're together?”
“I'll come in after I start the fire.”
“Okay. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, nothing, but...”
There was a massive problem. I had no idea how to bring it up. My mind was already filled with agonizing conflict.
From this moment on, I had to make Sirien understand the concept of a night watch. Would she be able to accept the fact that she couldn't sleep peacefully through the night? This was a young lady who found it difficult even to lie down on this hard ground. I had to ask a girl who used to be terrified of walking down a dark hallway alone at night to stand guard in the pitch-black wilderness.
No matter how capable I was, I couldn't shoulder the burden of the night watch entirely on my own while continuing our journey. If it were only for a day or two, it might be manageable, but our journey had no set end date.
Starting tonight, you have to watch over this dark forest all by yourself while I sleep. Wake me up when you feel like you can't keep your eyes open anymore.
I simply couldn't find the courage to say those words to her...
“Why? Is something wrong?”
As I hesitated, Sirien stepped closer. Her clear, ruby-red eyes and flawless, pale face were suddenly very near. Her innocent, tilted head was undeniably cute, but it felt like the calm before a storm, leaving my heart heavy.
It took an immense amount of resolve just to open my mouth.
“You know... there might be terrifying beasts living in this forest, right?”
“W-why are you bringing that up all of a sudden?”
“Well, wild beasts usually hunt at night.”
“Right. And...?”
“What do you think would happen if a beast approached us, and neither of us woke up?”
Sirien's expression froze. Or perhaps “petrified” was a better word. Her face, locked in a state of sudden anxiety, went completely still, and she fell silent.
Sirien was clever, so she would have reached the correct conclusion instantly. The problem was that the conclusion was a reality she absolutely did not want to accept.
She tried to negotiate.
“Couldn't you just sense it early and wake up, Rajen...?”
“Even I don't have that kind of ability.”
“Ugh, uuuugh! What about magic or something?”
“If we could use it, that would indeed be the best way.”
Though, of course, I didn't know how to use it. Did she? Obviously not. Sirien had never been trained in swordsmanship or magic.
“...What do we have to do, then?”
“We have to take turns standing watch.”
“Alone?”
“Of course alone. What's the point of both of us staying awake?”
“Well, that's true, but...!”
It didn't take long for Sirien to accept it. That is, if you could call her tearful, whispered, “Okay...” an acceptance. She made that familiar face she always did when she was holding back tears. Seeing it after so long brought a wave of nostalgia, but it also filled me with guilt.
“You can wake me up if you feel like you can't handle it.”
“No, I'll endure it.”
“You can't fall asleep on watch, okay?”
“I won't!” Sirien snapped, her pride wounded.
But then, she quickly averted her gaze and murmured in a tiny voice,
“I'll really be fine... but in return, hold my hand when you sleep.”
She extended her pale, delicate hand toward me.