Even If the North Wind Remembers Nothing
The Northern Memorial Service.
That was the reason no welcoming banquet had been held at the Grand Duchess's Castle despite the arrival of such a high-profile guest as the Imperial Audit Team.
Today was the day to honor the souls of those who had died in the snowfields defending the North ahead of the long winter to come.
A vast cemetery on the outskirts of the Grand Duchess's Castle.
Thousands upon thousands of white tombstones stood across an endless snow-covered plain.
The entire elite order of northern knights—save for the bare minimum left to guard the walls—along with all the retainers stood in solemn ranks before them.
In front of the tombstones, the wives and orphans of the fallen soldiers sat weeping, choking back suppressed sobs.
"Sniff… sob… darling…"
Giselle abandoned even the dignity of a ruler and knelt on one knee atop the frozen snowfield.
She took the cold hands of a woman wailing over the loss of her husband, and gently wiped away the tears of a child standing numbly after losing his father, using her own sleeve.
Sorrow lingered in her own eyes as well.
A solemn and heartbreaking scene.
Caleb inwardly sneered, thinking it was nothing more than a backwater funeral for country bumpkins.
But Enoch, who had stepped back with Cael to watch the spectacle, wore an expression that had grown heavy and dark.
At last, the cemetery fell into a silence so deep even the sound of the wind died away.
Giselle placed a single stalk of white winter flower—Snowflower, which bloomed on the barren northern soil—before an old tombstone.
Then she slowly ascended the platform.
Her uniform coat fluttering, her gaze swept across the thousands of knights and bereaved families arrayed in the cemetery.
"The fierce north wind,"
Giselle’s voice rang out across the vast snowfield.
"will not remember the blood you spilled into this snow, nor the brutal winters you endured."
There were no flowery phrases or words of pity.
"The Empire, the imperial family—even anyone across the continent—will simply take your sacrifice for granted. They will never know how you fought and died in the darkest corners of the land."
The shoulders of the families who had been crying quietly beneath the platform trembled.
"But."
Giselle’s red eyes gleamed.
"I, Giselle Claude, and all of us who survive here today, remember it clearly."
The soldiers’ shoulders began to shake. Some clenched their teeth to hold back tears, while others gripped their fists so tightly they drew blood.
"With the hot blood you shed, the heart of this barren North still beats. Thanks to the lives you offered, we are able to live one more day."
A vow filled with a ruler’s sincerity.
She drew the longsword at her waist and raised it high into the sky.
"As long as I draw breath, as long as we draw breath, your deaths will never be in vain. I swear that I will defend to the very end this land you protected with your blood."
Giselle’s commanding cry split the snow-covered sky.
"All present—observe a moment of silence!"
Clang!!! Claaaaang!!!
The entire northern knight order drew their swords at once and thrust them into the frozen ground.
Then they knelt on one knee and bowed their heads.
Only the sound of snowstorms brushing against the tombstones filled the world.
A majestic and sacred silence offered to the nameless heroes who had quietly become the continent’s shield and perished on the frontlines where no one acknowledged them.
"……"
Enoch’s eyes trembled as he watched the scene.
He felt ashamed of his past self, who had sat in the warm imperial palace in the capital poring over nothing but numbers and law books, dismissing the North’s frequent requests for support as mere incompetence.
‘So the Empire… has been trampling and using such noble souls as nothing more than disposable shields.’
Enoch closed his eyes and joined the moment of silence.
Even Caleb was crushed by the atmosphere and had no choice but to bow his head.
After the long silence finally ended and the audit team and bereaved families began to leave one by one,
Giselle descended from the platform and approached Cael, who stood crookedly at the very back.
"You’re unusually quiet today."
At her words, Cael shoved his hands into his pockets and snorted.
"Ha. You think I’m some kind of idiot?"
Giselle simply listened to his brazen reply in silence.
Normally she would have looked away in disgust, but today she did not leave easily.
After a brief silence, her lips moved slightly before she asked in a low voice, as if having come to some decision.
"Looking at them…"
"Hm?"
"Looking at those people crying over the loved ones they lost in the snowfields… do you truly feel nothing?"
A very small flicker of hope lingered in Giselle’s red eyes.
The cunning that allowed him to launder 100,000 gold as a slush fund. The incomprehensible act of taking a sword for a traitor.
Perhaps, just perhaps, beneath this man’s surface there might still be a trace of human warmth or guilt. That tiny sliver of expectation.
But Cael crushed that hope with a scoff.
"Feel what?"
"……What?"
"A soldier died doing his job on the battlefield. They got paid to do their work and died doing it. Why are you all acting so pathetically dramatic about it?"
Cael even yawned widely, as if bored.
"Isn’t it just the way of the North for those backwater mercenaries to sell their lives for a meal? If they die, they die. Why would a member of the imperial family like me have to mourn every single commoner’s death?"
At those words, the faint hope in Giselle’s eyes vanished completely.
"……Haa."
She let out a long sigh.
"It was my mistake to expect anything from a beast worse than an animal. You are nothing but a selfish creature who will rot away for the rest of your life bragging about your worthless bloodline."
"Yeah, you know me so well."
"Get lost. Disappear from my sight. I intend to stay here a little longer."
Giselle turned her head away in disgust.
Cael scratched the back of his head and shrugged.
"Yep, yep~ I was planning to do exactly that anyway. It’s cold as hell. No way I’m standing around here any longer."
Cael turned his back on her without mercy.
The crunch of his dress shoes echoed across the snowfield as he walked away.
But just before leaving the cemetery,
Cael stopped and glanced back.
Beyond the cold tombstones, he saw Giselle’s solitary figure standing against the freezing north wind.
Her shoulders looked unusually small and lonely today.
"Huu."
A person carrying an enormous burden alone, shining more nobly than anyone else.
The very person he had admired, raged for, and loved so fiercely while reading this novel.
‘Ha, damn it. It’s a funeral. Maybe I should’ve just acted normal.’
Being treated like trash actually made his stomach twist.
Well, whatever.
"Stay a noble hero like that for the rest of your life."
No matter what it took, he would protect the oath she had made.
Leaving behind a vow no one would hear, Cael quietly left the cemetery, the hem of his black coat fluttering behind him.
-
The next evening.
The banquet hall of the Grand Duchess's Castle was brightly lit.
This banquet had originally been scheduled to celebrate the successful first defense against the Magic Beast Wave and to honor everyone’s hard work.
However, the atmosphere in the hall was far too heavy and stiff to be called festive.
It was because the Imperial Audit Team dispatched from the capital was in attendance.
The northern knights and retainers were so conscious of Enoch’s presence that they even hesitated to clink their glasses.
In that awkward air, Giselle approached Enoch’s seat with a wine glass in hand.
"My apologies."
Giselle gave a light bow and spoke.
"I am sorry for delaying the welcoming banquet even though an honored guest from the imperial family has arrived."
At her courteous apology, Enoch waved his hand and answered calmly.
"There is no need for an apology, Your Grace. The memorial service was something that had to be held. If anything, I was deeply moved."
Giselle’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at Enoch’s sincere reply.
She had thought him nothing more than a rigid legalist who only raised his voice in the capital, but it seemed yesterday’s memorial service had caused a considerable change in his heart.
Enoch rose from his seat and raised his voice toward the northerners filling the banquet hall.
"Knights of the North!"
At Enoch’s call, the hall fell silent.
"Since our audit team is present, it seems you have been unable to fully celebrate your glorious victory. Therefore, for tonight only, do not mind the eyes of the imperial family. Drink, rejoice, and celebrate your triumph to your hearts’ content!"
The deputy leader of the Imperial Audit Team’s extraordinary statement.
The northern knights and retainers, who had been standing stiffly, quickly understood his meaning and began to liven up the mood.
"Haha, if the Audit Team Leader himself says so, let’s raise our glasses!"
"Indeed! A toast!!"
The previously rigid atmosphere of the banquet hall began to heat up in an instant.
But.
There was one person watching this harmonious scene with a face that looked like it was rotting away—Caleb, the deputy of the audit team.
‘This is bad. At this rate the mood will completely swing toward the Grand Duchess!’
Caleb bit his lip anxiously.
The audit team was being overwhelmed by the Grand Duchess’s presence and singing her praises.
If this news reached First Prince Arzen’s ears, he would consider Caleb useless.
‘His Highness Enoch is too soft. His heart must have weakened after that pathetic little funeral performance yesterday.’
Caleb clenched his fist tightly.
He had to reverse the atmosphere.
Using the four nobles he had recruited, he would flip this hypocritical banquet upside down and seize the Grand Duchess by the throat!
Having made up his mind, Caleb strode boldly into the center of the hall.
"Caleb? What do you think you’re doing?"
Enoch, who had been about to sit down, frowned and tried to stop him, but Caleb ignored Enoch’s words and shouted so loudly the entire banquet hall rang.
"Everyone, pay attention!!"
The music stopped. All eyes turned to Caleb.
Caleb arrogantly lifted his chin and pointed directly at Giselle.
"Grand Duchess! The Empire has received a shocking report that you have abused your power to carry out oppressive rule and seized the nobles’ assets to amass an enormous slush fund!"
"What nonsense are you spouting?"
Giselle asked in a sunken voice.
The banquet hall began to stir.
Enoch, flustered, reached for Caleb’s shoulder.
"Caleb! What kind of rubbish are you babbling?! Step back at once!"
"Your Highness! You must not be deceived! I will now tear off that hypocritical mask the Grand Duchess wears!"
Caleb turned toward the four northern nobles gathered in one corner of the hall.
It was Baron Killian and his group.
"Come forward! Oppressed nobles of the North! Here, the victims will testify to the whole truth under the protection of the imperial family!"
Everyone’s gaze focused on the four nobles. Caleb looked triumphant.
Once they denounced Giselle’s tyranny, this banquet hall would instantly transform into a courtroom condemning the Grand Duchess.
Even if they didn’t, he would at least gain something to report to His Highness Arzen.
Then he wouldn’t be seen as useless.
However.
The four nobles who had been singled out did not budge from their seats. They merely broke into cold sweats and whispered among themselves.
‘Th-that crazy deputy has finally done it…! What are we supposed to do?’
‘Do what? I’m not doing it!’
‘Me neither! Didn’t you all see Her Grace the Grand Duchess swearing that oath at the cemetery yesterday? After hearing that blood-boiling declaration, how could we possibly frame her?!’
Indeed.
The sincerity and resolve Giselle had shown at yesterday’s memorial service had been so overwhelming that it had shaken even the consciences of these selfish, opportunistic nobles—at least a little.
But there was a more primal emotion that ruled them far more strongly than their conscience.
"Look… over there…!"
Baron Killian, his face deathly pale, glanced furtively toward a marble pillar in the corner of the banquet hall.
There stood the Eighth Prince, Cael, leaning crookedly against it.
Holding a glass of red wine in one hand, he was grinning as if the situation was incredibly entertaining.
When his eyes met those of the four nobles,
Cael gave them a wide, toothy smile.
To the four men, that smile looked like a devil’s.
Then, slowly, he raised his empty hand and drew it across his own throat in a slicing motion.
Swoosh.
‘We’re dead.’
‘If you talk nonsense, I’ll slit all your throats tonight.’
The terrifying voice of Cael echoed in their heads like a hallucination, and every last trace of hesitation in their minds evaporated into the far reaches of the universe.
The First Prince in the capital?
Bullshit. The crazy bastard right in front of them was tens of thousands of times more terrifying!
Thud!!
Suddenly, starting with Baron Killian, all four nobles slid to their knees on the floor.
"Sniff, ugh… waaaaah!!"
And then they unleashed 200% of the acting skills they had learned in Cael’s annex the other day, bursting into tears like waterfalls and beginning to wail.
"Wh-what nonsense is this!! We have never been oppressed!!" "Huh?! Baron? What are you…!"
Caleb’s eyes widened in shock.
Four northern nobles suddenly sliding to their knees and bursting into theatrical tears