The Humiliating March Back
Being carried back to the barracks in Kalia's arms was nothing short of a grueling ordeal. We had to cross right through the camp where the soldiers were gathered, so they all got a front-row seat to this bizarre spectacle. As the second son of the Margrave of the North, my dignity was in tatters.
I might not obsess over noble decorum like the other aristocrats—having lived in the modern world before transmigrating into this romance fantasy novel—but I was still a man with pride, and I'd had months of noble upbringing. There was no way this didn't embarrass me to death, noble face or not.
A noble young master being toted around like a child by a beautiful knight in uniform? This was some twisted setup that only folks with weird tastes would cheer for.
Every time I felt the soldiers' weird stares boring into the back of my head, I buried my face deeper into Kalia's jacket.
'Please, just pretend you didn't see this...'
But contrary to my desperate prayers, Kalia strode proudly right through the heart of the camp.
The "live humiliation show" where I was forcibly put on display in front of the troops while cradled in her arms only ended once we stepped inside the barracks.
The moment we passed the entrance, I sprang out of her arms like a coiled spring.
"I'm good now!"
The thrill of my feet hitting the ground lasted only a second before I frantically threw on my clothes, bundling up my nine-year-old body as tightly as possible.
Once I was dressed, I turned around. Kalia was just lightly clenching and unclenching her empty hands, gazing at me with an odd expression—regretful? Awkward? Hard to tell.
Especially since it was Kalia, it was even tougher to guess what was going through her head.
'Who knows.'
I left the inscrutable Kalia behind and flopped onto the cot.
After the goblin hunt and that recent fiasco, my whole body felt drained, like the energy had ebbed out with the tide.
Staring blankly at the ceiling, I glanced at Kalia still standing rigidly by my side like a statue and tossed out casually,
"Kalia, why don't you rest a bit?"
"I'm fine, Young Master. To protect you, I must always be ready. Standing like this is a form of rest for me, so please don't worry."
It was just a polite suggestion, but her response was overly serious. Her eyes shone with unwavering loyalty—no trace of falsehood—which only made me feel awkward.
"...Uh, yeah. You've got it all figured out, Kalia. Very reliable."
She gave a small, satisfied nod at my half-hearted praise, as if I'd poured my soul into it.
"It's an honor to receive your praise, Young Master."
With her looking so earnest about guarding me, I couldn't muster the courage to say, 'Still, sit down or something?'
I forcibly closed my eyes, bearing the burdensome vigilance of this hardcore "knight."
Kalia Crisia quietly gazed down at her charge, Kasian Valenvalt, who lay on the cot breathing evenly.
'A boy so fragile he might shatter if I just apply a little pressure.'
Kasian's body was small and delicate. To Kalia, raised amid the rugged warriors of the north, the nine-year-old young master's tiny limbs looked like young twigs that would snap at a mere touch.
Originally, Kalia was talent destined for the northern front lines, the blood-soaked arenas reeking of death.
But for some reason, the Knight Commander had assigned her to the coveted role of escort knight to the second son—everyone's dream posting.
Guarding the margrave's direct line came with trust, honor, wealth, and crucially, relative safety. Unless you were a true battle fiend, no one clamored for the brutal front lines.
Those who didn't look kindly on Kalia shot jealous glares, calling it an "easy assignment," but she couldn't comprehend their envy at all.
To her, this peaceful barracks was a prison. Better to go mad on the battlefield and die nameless.
Treated as a "failure" even by her own family due to her unique ability, the only way she'd ever affirmed her worth was through martial prowess proven in the jaws of death. Kalia had no desire to drift here in this tranquil place, losing her sense of purpose.
Yet she never let that show to Kasian. She wasn't one to reveal her emotions to others anyway, and her loyalty to the Valenvalt family was genuine.
So, thoughts of causing an incident to get stripped of her post and flee to the front lines she craved? Not even a flicker.
She couldn't casually defy the "orders" given to her as a knight.
Abandoned by her family and self-loathing as she might be, she wasn't cunning or shameless enough to shirk her duties.
That was her vicious contradiction: craving death while showing near-obsessive diligence in her assigned tasks. It was why Kalia Crisia shadowed the nine-year-old second son of the margrave like a ghost.
Assigned as his escort knight, she intended to fulfill her role to the letter.
'What was the Commander thinking, sending me here?'
Kalia stood motionless, head slightly bowed, lost in thought as she looked down at Kasian.
I have no idea how deeply I'd slept. But a strange gaze prickled at me, naturally pulling my eyes open.
"...!"
The "Kasian" I'd transmigrated into was a lead character with exceptional talent. He could handle mana at a young age, making his body hypersensitive to even faint presences.
Yet the sight that greeted me upon waking nearly stopped my heart.
It wasn't the ceiling filling my view. Instead, cascading black hair blocked everything, and in the darkness, red eyes gleamed like fresh blood.
'...What the hell? Sleep paralysis?'
A chill raced down my spine. Could you even get sleep paralysis in a mana-filled world? Bewilderment surged.
My heart pounded like it would leap out, but I quickly composed myself. This was a fantasy realm where supernatural forces were real.
Acknowledging the mana around me, I forced my gaze steady and examined the figure.
A moment later, I let out a deflated sigh.
It was Kalia.
I'd thought it was sleep paralysis, but no—she was just standing stock-still by my bedside, looming over me.
"...What are you doing?"
My sleep-roughened voice cracked as it came out. It might've sounded pathetic, but it carried my full exasperation.
Kalia didn't even blink. No apology, no fluster—just the same impassive stare as she replied flatly,
"Keeping watch."
Her curt answer left me speechless. Sure, guarding was great, but why loom over someone's head like a ghost, dangling your hair down?
I rubbed my throbbing temple. Looking at this overly diligent escort knight gave me an instant headache.
"...Yeah, thanks a ton. Super reassuring."
Did she take my sarcasm as sincere praise? Her red eyes seemed to flicker faintly.
"Thank you."
Swallowing a sigh at her demeanor, I tried to sit up from the bed.
But Kalia blocked my bedside, so I couldn't even raise my torso fully and had to pause.
"...Move so I can get up."
At my heavy words, Kalia reacted.
"Ah."
She let out her signature airheaded exclamation, slowly lifting her head. Then, with mechanical precision, she stepped back one pace.
My view finally cleared, but the eerie chill from moments ago still lingered in the air.
With a ridiculous feeling, I raked back my sleep-tousled hair and perched on the bed's edge.
"Haa... Anyway, how much time has passed?"
The sun had set; the barracks were pitch black. Recalling the time before sleep, at least a few hours must've flown by. My dry mouth made me curious for the exact hour.
"Around 8 p.m. Dinner time's soon; I was just about to wake you—perfect timing."
Kalia lied coolly with a straight face.
'About to wake me? From that position?'
Anyone could see that wasn't the posture of someone waking another. I didn't know what she'd intended, but instinct told me waking me wasn't it.
Maybe she planned to observe me in the dark until I stirred.
Who knows. I considered asking if it was really to wake me or something else, but dropped it.
Seeing her deflect so calmly, I'd get no straight answer anyway.
Better for my sanity to escape this weirdness than probe her motives.
Besides, Kalia and I weren't close enough to bare our souls. We'd only met a week ago—bound to have some distance.
Unlike the friendly male soldiers, where I'd bonded quickly, an inevitable gap lingered with her.