Chapter 6. Screw it, let's give it a shot.
Two hours of grueling training. I squeezed every last drop of energy from my body to maintain that platinum glow, ending up drenched in sweat, but my mind felt refreshingly clear.
Phew, at this rate, I can hold it for about a minute now. If I train every day, maybe in two years—even if my head gets chopped off—I could reattach it with this power? Indulging in that ridiculous fantasy, I stretched contentedly. Even the cold wind whistling outside sounded unusually cheerful today. All that's left now is a delightful dinner to fill this hunger.
What'll it be tonight? Probably the usual smoked meat, rye bread, and soup. But honestly, for a ducal family like this, shouldn't the menu be more varied? I resolved to cautiously bring it up with Betty at dinner tonight.
Hmm, still some time left, so I should at least wash up quick. Humming a little tune, I headed to the washbasin. The face staring back from the mirror was, as I'd noticed at first glance, an absolute pretty boy that could hold its own anywhere. In my old real-world terms, they'd call it a face genius, right? Plus, as royalty, no tax evasion scandals for me. Or... wait, won't I be Winterfell in two years? Gotta ask Betty about that. Taxes have to be handled properly, after all.
After a quick splash, dinner time rolled around.
Knock knock—!
What the? One good shove and this door's toast.
It was a much sharper knock than usual. Opening the door revealed Luna—not her usual soft, bright smile, but a blank stare glaring right at me.
“Your Highness, I've brought your meal.”
Before I could even invite her in, she barged through with the tray and slammed it down on the table with a thud! On it sat way more steak than usual, garlic, and some suspiciously thick black soup.
“Huh? Luna? No dining hall today? What about the Lady?”
Luna bowed her head in response.
“The Lady says she's not feeling well and will dine in her chambers. As for Your Highness... eat this and regain your 'energy'.”
She put extra emphasis on 'energy'. What's her deal? There's a faint disgust toward me in her attitude. More importantly, Betty's sick? She was fine at lunch.
“Wait, Betty's sick? Where? She was perfectly fine at lunch today.”
At my genuine concern, Luna's face flushed red then pale in an instant. It felt like she was inwardly blaming me, but I hadn't done anything to Betty today.
“It seems the Lady doesn't wish to share details. So, please don't go looking for her. Absolutely do not go near her tonight.”
Luna spat the warning and fled the room. Left alone, I tilted my head at the plates. Sure, she's a woman who nitpicks and threatens me, but what if Betty's really ill? The worry wouldn't fade. After polishing off the food, I snuck out toward Betty's room.
Luna's too stingy. When someone's sick, you stay by their side.
I knocked carefully. Knock knock.
“Betty, it's me, Rian. You asleep? I heard you're not feeling well...”
Suddenly, a thunk from something dropping inside, followed by a trembling voice.
“Don't come in. I said don't come.”
“Betty? Your voice sounds off. Are you really that sick? Want me to come in and nurse you?”
“I'm fine. Just a light cold—I'll be better by morning.”
Betty's voice from beyond the door trembled without a trace of her usual icy calm. Hmm. She doesn't want anyone knowing, and Luna's holding back too. Guess it's that time of the month for women. Leading the duchy from a young age as a woman, she'd probably hidden any weakness. Thinking about it made me a bit down.
“Betty, it must've been tough holding back the pain all day. Keep your belly warm tonight and have lots of sweets. Good job today.”
“...”
In my old world, this might've been harassment—hell, definitely would be—but as her fiancé-to-be, it's fine, right? Betty didn't say a word against it. With heavy steps, I trudged back to my room. Once there, I immediately called for Luna.
“You called, Your Highness?”
“Luna, if there's any chocolate, could you pass it to Betty for me?”
“......Pardon?”
Luna's face turned beet red at my words, like she'd witnessed something scandalous. What? Just bringing a snack to her sick master—why the reaction?
“Y-you shameless pervert!! Know some moderation!”
“Hey! Luna! What's with you too?!”
Slam! The door nearly shattered as it closed. Her footsteps had already vanished down the hall.
“What the hell? Calling me a pervert out of nowhere?”
Luna seemed emotionally volatile today—probably exhausted. As a good prince, best to let her rest without calling again. Much later, I learned that in the cold north, bringing chocolate at night means 'I want to spend a hot night with you.'
The next morning, Winterfell's dining hall was shrouded in even heavier silence than yesterday. Up early, I dressed neatly and sat at the table. My reflection today looked healthier than yesterday's—probably thanks to that garlic and black soup(?) from dinner. My skin was smooth, eyes sparkling clear.
Betty, arriving a bit late, looked wrecked by comparison.
“......Betty? You really that sick?”
I stood without thinking as she entered. Her pale face aside, the dark circles under her eyes were stark.
She said it'd be fine by morning.
At my voice, Betty flinched, shoulders tensing, and sat without meeting my eyes, head bowed.
“......Good morning, Your Highness.”
Her voice lacked strength. And she let me call her Betty in front of others without protest? She's in bad shape.
Meal started, but she just poked at her plate with her fork, not eating. Time to change the mood. Chewing a piece of meat, I tossed out a careful topic.
“Hey, Betty. Mind if I ask something?”
“......Go ahead.”
“I heard we're visiting the knight order today. How strong is the Winterfell knight order in the empire? What's their ranking?”
Betty's head snapped up from her plate. Her red eyes gleamed impossibly bright for someone who'd looked half-dead moments ago.
“Your Highness, comparing Winterfell knights to the empire's other so-called knights is a grave insult.”
She set down her fork, leaning toward me. Before I could react to the shift, words poured out like machine-gun fire.
“While the capital's guards prance in fancy armor protecting socialites, our knights stake their lives against northern barbarians on -20°C snow peaks. One Winterfell elite equals five capital grunts in power. Especially the Winter Guard—the Duke's direct order—”
For the next ten minutes, Betty rattled off tactics, gear superiority, and last winter's victories nonstop. She brimmed with energy—definitely not the sick woman from before. People always light up talking about what they take pride in.
“......That's why Winterfell's blades never bend. What Your Highness sees today is worlds apart from the capital's showy spars.”
“Wow, that's impressive. If it gets you this fired up, I can't wait.”
At my praise, Betty realized her excitement, coughed awkwardly, and settled back.
“......Ahem. So Your Highness should brace yourself. Northern men don't pull punches for capital royals.”
“No worries. Pretty as I am, folks love me everywhere.”
“Yes, how enviable.”
She iced me out like the old Betty. I cheered you up, give a little warmth back.
After eating, we headed to the central training grounds where the Winterfell knight order assembled. Hundreds stood in perfect ranks. Iron discipline, metallic tang, and rough breaths filled the air.
“Your Highness, the Winterfell knight order.”
Betty introduced and stepped back. Hundreds of eyes locked on me—filled not with welcome, but doubt and open scorn.
“That's the prince from the capital? Looks like a gigolo.”
“Waste for the Lady. Those dainty hands gripping a sword proper?”
Whispers rippled through the knights. Face geniuses get envy everywhere. I flashed a relaxed smile and strode to the front.
Then a hulking man stepped forward, scars everywhere, arms like human heads. He nodded lightly to Betty, then smiled at me.
“Pleased to meet you, Your Highness. Representing Winterfell's knights. I'm Wolff, captain of the Winter Guard.”
“It's an honor to show the northern knights' might to our visiting prince from the capital.”
Right then.
PINK SUDDEN QUEST!
Quest: Steal the Rough Hearts of Northern Men!
Description: The Winterfell knights see you as a 'gigolo'! Shatter their prejudice and show the dignity (or charm) of a true prince!
Success Condition: Achieve 'Friendly' favorability from 50%+ of knight order members.
Failure: You'll be ignored by Winterfell's knights for life.
💖 Reward: Unlock info windows for key knight figures + 'Knights' Trust' title 💖
Yeah, piece of cake. Screw it, let's give it a shot.