The Knighting Ceremony (2)
The streets were packed with countless people. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have had a single escort, but since this was an official public event, the ducal house had sent a lavish carriage and a full complement of guards.
I leaned forward and gazed out the window. Every road inside the citadel had been meticulously paved with stone, and the streets were lined with all manner of shops and stalls. The banner bearing the Winfred crest, hanging from the rear of the carriage, fluttered in the wind. Many of those walking along the street turned reverent gazes toward the Winfred procession.
I stared out the window, lost in thought. The ride itself wasn’t bad; the carriage belonged to the ducal estate, after all. Time passed like that.
“We have arrived, young master.”
Before I knew it, we had reached our destination—the Grand Cathedral—and the coachman opened the door for me. I stepped down slowly. A knight with a businesslike expression was already waiting.
“I will escort you.”
Step by step, I followed the knight toward the heart of the cathedral. It didn’t take long to reach the central hall where the knighting ceremony would be held.
And then—
“Damn it.”
A string of needlessly solemn and suffocatingly boring preliminary rites dragged on. The holy flame procession, the blessing ritual, the scripture reading, the prayers, the meditation… No exaggeration—I nearly fell asleep before it even began. Only after enduring that endless parade of tedious formalities did the actual knighting ceremony finally start.
“Nobles, please step forward.”
The knighting ceremony wasn’t merely a ritual. It was a competition. Held only once every five years, it drew nobles desperate for capable and loyal knights. The number of talented knights was limited, and so was the number each individual could appoint. And all those opportunities were distributed according to social rank.
Those of higher status received priority. Those of lower status had no choice but to stand in the back, sucking their thumbs and waiting their turn. That was reality.
Of course, I get a free pass.
The Winfred ducal house—one of the empire’s three guardian families and a founding contributor. Unless the other party was of imperial blood or from another ducal house, no one here could outrank me in status. In other words, I essentially held the highest priority to appoint a knight.
But—
I don’t need it.
The only knight I wanted was Diana. No one else mattered. Priority? I didn’t need that either. After all, Diana was destined to be appointed by no one but me.
More precisely, she couldn’t be appointed by anyone else. That very fact would become the trigger for her long period of stagnation, during which she would dig tunnels underground. After wasting several years like that, she would eventually meet someone who helped her awaken her talent and ultimately claim the position of Imperial Knight Commander.
She should be around here somewhere.
I glanced sideways at the nobles attending the ceremony.
Ah, there he is.
A man sitting in the next seat with a face full of discontent. I checked the family crest on the uniform he wore. A black eagle soaring through darkness. No doubt about it. This was the Torte viscount family, operators of one of the empire’s largest merchant guilds.
The plan was simple.
“Hey.”
At my call, the man beside me turned his head. He spotted the small Winfred crest pinned to my chest and flinched violently.
“Y-yes?! You mean me?!”
I knew the Torte viscount family well. They were the first to buy their title with money, and infamous for flaunting their wealth at every banquet out of an insatiable hunger for prestige. Still, they were only a viscount house.
I put on a friendly smile and asked him, “What’s your appointment order?”
“…My order, sir?”
“That’s right.”
His expression darkened at an alarming speed. A viscount house would naturally have a late slot, and he was clearly ashamed of it. Now was the perfect moment.
Let me say it again: in this damned world, the only thing you can trust is money.
In a gentle voice, I laid out my offer. “Want to sell me your turn?”
He gaped at me, blinking stupidly. It was the reaction of someone who had never even imagined the concept of buying and selling appointment order.
I waited patiently for his answer. A moment later, he glanced at me cautiously and spoke.
“H-how much…?”
Transaction successful. Viscount Torte’s appointment slot has been transferred.
The knight order affiliated with the cathedral was mostly composed of commoners. Since it operated in the name of God, the official reason was that it extended divine mercy to those without opportunities. However, even among commoners, ranks were strictly divided. That was why most commoners who joined the knight order usually came from wealthy or well-connected families.
After all, becoming a knight was one of the few paths available for commoners to rise in status.
Even so, Diana was a slave-born commoner. A parentless orphan with nothing but a sturdy body to her name. In other words, even among the knights who had barely scraped their way into the order, her position was at the very bottom of the bottom.
“Stand up!”
At the woman’s shout, Diana staggered to her feet. Her entire body was covered in bruises as if mold had grown on her, and her face was a mess of dirt. Traces of endless bullying and abuse.
“What’s with that face?”
“…”
“Why? Does it feel unfair?”
It did feel unfair. Unfair that she was slave-born. Unfair that she was an orphan. Unfair that a mere girl had dared to dream of becoming a knight. The cold reality that she would have to miss the knighting ceremony—held only once every five years—felt so unjust it could kill her.
There was no knight order that would keep accepting half-baked failures who couldn’t get appointed. That was why she had poured everything into this single ceremony. She had neither the time nor the money to wait for the next one.
If she missed this chance, she would definitely be expelled from the order.
A knight was noble, but the fate of someone who failed to become one was miserable. Diana would end up wandering without purpose, swinging her sword for no reason at all.
“Not going to answer?”
Diana lifted her head and glared at the woman with bloodshot eyes. She had wanted to become a knight. She had devoted half her life to training for that single goal. But it was all over now. After bone-carving patience, the opportunity had finally arrived—only for the woman before her to shatter it without a second thought. All for the trivial reason of correcting a distorted hierarchy.
Boiling rage melted Diana’s reason away.
“…You bastard.”
“Took you long enough to figure that out?”
The woman shrugged as if she had heard nothing unusual. Soon the women who had been watching from behind burst into shrill laughter.
“She’s gonna cry at this rate.”
“No way. Even after being beaten for days, she never shed a single tear.”
“Hah, what a tough bitch.”
Diana swallowed her fury in silence. A burning lump seemed stuck in her throat.
“Tsk, how boring.”
The woman clicked her tongue. Diana’s reaction hadn’t been very entertaining. As if showing mercy, she tossed out a casual remark.
“Hey, go on.”
“…”
“Go to the knighting ceremony. Oh, but it’s probably already over, isn’t it?”
She let out a mocking laugh and left with the other women.
Diana turned to check the clock on the wall. While she had been caught up in their childish games, the ceremony had already reached its final moments.
“…”
She looked at her reflection in the marble. A face caked in dirt and a disheveled uniform. She looked more like a vagrant than a knight. Even if she went to the ceremony now, the heated atmosphere would have already cooled. Even if any slots remained, no noble would choose a knight who looked like this.
Even she thought her appearance was ridiculous. Pathetic.
A deep sense of helplessness blurred her vision.
“…Ha.”
Am I really supposed to give up like this?
Maybe someone out there would see me and think I have the makings of a knight?
But… who in their right mind would appoint a slave-born knight who looked like this?
Countless regrets tangled together in her mind. Diana closed her eyes.
“…”
When she opened them again, she found herself already sprinting past the training grounds toward the central hall. In her stark-white, flickering mind, the distant voices of her fellow knights whispering about her echoed faintly.
“Huff… huff…”
It was desperate. She wanted to become an honorable knight and pledge her loyalty to the one who chose her. She wanted to forget her past self and be reborn anew.
“Ugh…!”
A beast-like groan escaped through her clenched teeth. Her heart felt like it would burst, but she couldn’t stop. Urgency filled every stride.
After running for a long time, Diana came to an abrupt halt in front of the doors leading to the central hall. Beyond them, a chilling silence flowed. As if every schedule had ended and the event had moved into its closing phase.
Diana shook her head. Then, swallowing hard, she cautiously reached for the door.
Creak.
The doors to the central hall swung open. The pouring light stung her eyes. Her disheveled silver hair fluttered wildly in the swirling wind.
“…”
The seats where the nobles who would appoint knights should have been sitting were empty. The knights waiting to be chosen had also left their places.
Ah, it’s over.
Just as that thought crossed her mind—
“Oh, there she is.”
A deep voice struck her ears. Diana turned toward the sound. There, a familiar-faced bishop was arguing with a young man.
“Young master, I clearly told you the ceremony is already over!”
“Over? What do you mean, over? Can’t you see the knight standing right there? Or is she not even a knight? Strange. She looks like a knight to me.”
“No, she is a knight, but I clearly said the ceremony has already—”
“By the way, how much donation has the Winfred family poured into the cathedral so far?”
“Y-young master…!”
Diana’s mind couldn’t keep up with the flow of the conversation. Only the scattered words “knighting ceremony” and “knight,” along with the sharp gaze the young man directed at her, were burned into her brain.
And then—
“Sigh… Just this once, young master.”
“That’s more like it.”
“Then please rise and choose your knight.”
The man called young master stood up.
“Hmm.”
His vivid blue eyes turned toward Diana. Her chest tightened as if something had lodged there.
“I will appoint the female knight standing over there.”
His finger pointed directly at her.
At that moment, clear tears streamed down Diana’s face.