A Predetermined Future
I stood speechless for a moment. An entirely unexpected mastermind had just been revealed.
It was a crest depicting a black horse with a snow-white mane—the coat of arms of the Persia family, belonging to Franche's fiancé, Cassus.
Even as someone who had cleared every single quest in the game, this was news to me. It was shocking enough that Franche had been ambushed on her way to the party, but to think the Persia Ducal family was the one behind it.
"..."
Were they trying to eliminate her early? No, a household of the Persia family's stature wouldn't send such amateurish assassins.
An attempt to sow discord. If a conflict erupted between the two ducal houses, it would spiral out of control. And I would inevitably be dragged into the crossfire. For now, I should keep this as insurance for the future. I slipped the crest into my breast pocket and walked back to the carriage.
"Hey, slave."
"What is it?"
"Watch your tongue, you bastard. Did you find anything?"
"Nothing."
"Still speaking informally to the very end, I see."
Perhaps it was because they had witnessed my skills, but the knights no longer tried to find fault with my actions. After all, I had shown them a level of mastery that allowed me to channel Aura into my blade. They knew that pushing their luck with me would mean death. The only one who could control me was Franche.
I stepped inside the carriage. Franche was waiting, resting her chin on her hand with a bored, listless expression.
"Have the assassins been dealt with?"
"Yes."
"And did you discover who was behind them?"
"I apologize, but I could find no clues."
"Is that so?"
Not a single muscle in Franche's face twitched. She seemed entirely indifferent to the identity of those who had tried to kill her, despite having her life threatened only moments ago.
Has she lost her will to live? Or does she simply place no value on her own life? Whichever it was, it was deeply tragic. Humans, by nature, prized their own survival above all else.
Just then, the coachman's voice echoed from outside.
"We are ready to depart!"
With a heavy rattle, the carriage wheels began to turn, jolting us forward.
"Are you comfortable, My Lady?"
"I am fine."
Was that all she had to say?
"If there is ever anything else you wish to say, please do not hesitate to speak. I am always here to listen."
Only after I finished speaking did Franche finally turn her gaze toward me.
"It seems I have acquired quite an excellent slave. You are strong, and your attentiveness is certainly worth five hundred million. I am pleased with you."
A faint smile played on Franche's lips. I was glad to be of use to her.
And yet... a strange, tickling sensation lingered in my chest.
What on earth is this? The emotions I had felt for her so far were pity, anger, and sorrow—along with a protective instinct to shield her and a desperate wish to save her from her tragic fate as a villainess.
But what I felt right now was none of those things. It was the same sensation I had experienced before—a tightly tangled ball of yarn that refused to unravel. For some reason, it made me feel incredibly uneasy.
"Your expression is grim. Were you injured in the skirmish earlier?"
"It would take far more than that to harm me."
"Then I am glad."
With those words, Franche turned her gaze back to the carriage window.
"Please do not lean too close to the window, My Lady. Though the glass shards have been cleared, you could still get hurt."
"...Are you truly that worried about me?"
"What slave wouldn't worry about their master?"
Franche's brow twitched slightly.
"There is something I wish to ask you. Do you not resent the Empire? It destroyed your homeland and reduced you to a slave. And I am a noble of that very Empire. I understand obeying orders out of necessity, but I see no reason for you to harbor such deep loyalty."
Well, I didn't really know either. Originally, my plan was simply to guide her toward a better future, have her release my Slave Brand, and part ways with both of us happy. How did things turn out like this?
Has there been a change in my heart? Hearing her story had stirred something within me. She was no longer just a villainess in a game; she had become Franche, a human being living a tragically cursed life.
Yes, my heart has changed. When the end of this journey finally arrives, will I truly be able to leave you behind? Franche Decartes. What do I mean to you? Am I merely a pawn to be discarded and replaced at any moment?
"..."
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I wasn't some schoolboy nursing a one-sided crush. I only needed to move forward for the sake of my goal.
"I simply do not dwell on the past."
"...Hardly the words of a former royal," Franche murmured, still staring quietly out the window. After a brief silence, she spoke again. "I am tired."
"Why not take a nap?"
"...Are you suggesting I lie down on this seat and sleep?"
"Is there any reason you shouldn't?"
"It is hardly proper behavior for a noble lady."
"..."
Proper behavior for a noble lady. I found those words deeply ironic. The treatment she received from her own family was anything but fitting for a noble lady.
"I appreciate your concern. But I will not lie down. I will simply close my eyes and lean back against the seat."
"Sleep well, My Lady."
The emerald brilliance of Franche's eyes was veiled beneath her eyelids. I quietly watched her sleeping face.
The carriage came to a halt. We had arrived at the Eldas Marquisate.
"My Lady."
"Mmh..."
"My Lady, it is time to wake up."
Franche opened her eyes. Though heavy with sleep, her emerald gaze still shone brightly.
"I feel as though I barely slept, yet we are already here."
"A fair amount of time has passed."
"...Is that so?"
I opened the carriage door and stepped down first. Standing beside the steps, I gently took her hand as she descended.
"You escort me now without even being asked."
Franche let out a soft chuckle. Of course. Having done it once, I had to do it better the next time.
"Let us go."
I walked behind Franche. The coachman went to stable the carriage, while the eight knights fell into formation around her.
"I am to meet the Young Duke of Persia here. It seems we have arrived first."
"..."
It would be best not to hold her breath for the Young Duke. He had absolutely no intention of showing up. But I couldn't tell her that. If I did, she would demand to know how I knew, leading to endless questions. It was a secret best kept to myself.
Some time passed. The party had long since begun, but just as I predicted, the Young Duke was nowhere to be seen.
"My Lady, the time is..."
"I know."
Franche's eyes, which had remained steadfast even when persecuted by Eden and Line, and even during the assassin ambush, trembled violently. She clenched her jaw, her fists tightening so hard her knuckles turned white. At this rate, she would have to enter alone. For an engaged couple to enter a party separately was as good as publicly announcing that there was trouble in paradise.
The Young Duke... He has no intention of entering with Franche.
This, too, was exactly as destined.
"My Lady."
"What is it?"
"The Young Duke will not be coming."
"...What do you mean by that?"
"Exactly what I said."
"...How could you possibly know that?"
"It is merely a hunch. Seeing as he has yet to show..."
"Stop."
She cut me off.
"Do not say another word. I know as well."
A dark shadow fell over Franche's face. It was the expression of someone forced to accept a truth they desperately wanted to deny. I watched her in silence. After a long moment, she finally spoke.
"...Let us go inside."
In the end, Franche was forced to make her entrance alone. As her personal guard, I followed closely behind her as we reached the entrance of the Eldas Marquisate's ballroom. The other knights remained outside, as only personal guards were permitted entry. Franche took a deep breath. She, too, surely knew what awaited her.
"Open the doors."
The Marquis's guard nodded. With a heavy thud, the massive arched wooden doors swung open, and she stepped inside.
"Announcing Lady Franche Decartes!"
Every eye in the room instantly turned toward us. The nobles narrowed their eyes, staring at Franche in silence before whispering among themselves. Thanks to my heightened senses as a Sword Master, every single word reached my ears clearly.
"Where is the Young Duke? Why did she enter alone?"
"Who knows? Perhaps there is trouble between them."
"It wouldn't be surprising. After all, their engagement was forced upon him from the start."
"She always did strut around flaunting her dresses and jewels. This is quite a satisfying sight, isn't it?"
Was this truly the conversation of high society? If they were already spewing such malice and gossip at the very beginning, what lay ahead? I closed my eyes briefly.
Click, clack.
The sharp sound of her heels echoed through the suddenly quiet ballroom. Franche walked forward. Her face remained completely expressionless. Had her emotions died, or was the shock of the Young Duke's absence simply too great to bear?
"Go wait with the other guards."
"Yes, My Lady."
Following her command, I made my way to the corner of the ballroom where the other nobles' escort knights were gathered.
"Wow, the food is incredible today."
"The wine is excellent, too."
"The Eldas Marquisate certainly knows how to host."
"Let's have a toast of our own!"
The escort knights chatted casually among themselves, clinking their glasses and enjoying the party. They gossiped while stuffing their faces with hors d'oeuvres. Having nothing to say to them, I sat down on a chair and kept my eyes on Franche.
Franche's fists remained tightly clenched. No one approached her, and she made no move to approach anyone else. She likely knew that trying to socialize right now would bring nothing but humiliation.
Sigh.
Was it because I now knew how she was treated by the Decartes family and understood her past? Seeing her stand there so isolated made my heart ache. As I watched her in silence, the whispers of the nobles drifted into my sensitive ears once more.
"Look at her face. She looks as if her entire world has collapsed."
"She has undoubtedly been abandoned by the Young Duke."
"Though he is rather cruel himself. If he had given her some warning, she wouldn't have shown up to be humiliated like this."
"What do you expect? The engagement was forced upon him because Lady Decartes threw a tantrum. She has no right to complain even if she is cast aside."
The malicious gossip and slander continued unabated. Could she hear them? ...I hoped not. It would only wound her further. I continued to watch her blankly. Franche leaned against a pillar, sipping champagne. It was a bitter, pitiful sight. Her profound loneliness was palpable.
It was then.
"Announcing the Young Duke of Persia!"
The man who had dealt Franche such a deep wound finally made his appearance. Naturally, there was no one by his side. Cassus Persia, the Young Duke, entered alone, utterly indifferent to the pain he had caused her.
Thud. Thud.
He strode into the ballroom with long, confident strides. Once again, the attention of the entire room shifted.
"The Young Duke entered alone as well!"
"There is definitely something going on between them."
"Did anyone actually expect this engagement to last?"
"Indeed. Lady Decartes really needs to learn some humility."
...Just what kind of reputation had she built for herself? She wanted to be called a madwoman, so she must have run rampant everywhere. After all, that was exactly what she wanted and intended. Franche quietly watched Cassus before stepping forward to meet him. Their voices drifted over to me, picked up by my sharp senses.
"Young Duke Persia."
"Franche Decartes."
"...Why did you not enter with me?"
"Ah, that. I was actually looking for you. This works out well."
Cassus furrowed his brow and continued coldly.
"Franche Decartes. I wish to break our engagement."