Something Changed in the Tomb
There was a unique aura to every person.
Only two days had passed, yet the Jeanne who emerged from the king’s tomb stood changed in something unmistakable.
Her most faithful retainer, Fabian, had noticed.
Fabian watched her quietly, then spoke.
“You seem… different.”
“Me?”
“I suspected as much since your past life, but the aura itself has shifted.”
Jeanne unconsciously rested her hand on Joyeuse’s pommel. The glance she cast at Fabian drew another question.
“How did the king’s test go?”
“It wasn’t so much a test as a glimpse of what he wished to pass to his successor. Thanks to it, I obtained something more precious than this very sword.”
“Is it this relic you wear about your neck?”
“Of course it is precious. Yet it is not all.”
Laurent’s Rosary might be called a holy relic, but to Jeanne it was far more precious: the king’s heart and her own new resolve.
While her mind turned over memories from the tomb, silence settled between the two.
Rustle.
“Hm?”
A stealthy presence followed from behind.
It tried to hide well, but failed to escape Jeanne’s notice.
Jeanne looked at Fabian. He, too, had sensed it and nodded as he met her eyes.
They had long since grown attuned; words were unnecessary.
Fabian readied to draw his sword while Jeanne addressed the rear.
“Do not sneak and peer. Come out.”
“Nothing to do with you!”
Accompanied by a sharp voice, Heini stepped out from behind a tree, fidgeting.
“Hmm. You have something to say to me, Fabian?”
Jeanne delegated the encounter with Heini to Fabian.
At the order of her lord he approached the girl reluctantly.
“If you wish to follow secretly, you must be more cautious.”
“I only came because I had something to say.”
As a hunter Heini was confident in her ability to conceal her presence.
She had even fooled the senses of a wary wild animal; declaring herself to have deliberately revealed her trail, she puffed up with pride.
Fabian’s expression darkened.
The sight reminded him of the knights he had once tutored—Ethan, for example—and his temples began to throb.
“Hey, Uncle.”
“Nay, Sir Fabian, Knight Fabian… even a mere ‘milord’ would suit you better.”
“Fine. Uncle Fabian.”
To an orphan who had grown up in a backwater village where commoners and runaways had taken shelter, the title felt alien and awkward.
Fabian sighed.
Harassing the weak was contrary to a knight’s spirit, so he could say nothing more and swallowed his frustration.
“So. What is it you wished to say?”
“Are you strong?”
“The measure of strength differs for every person; the question is difficult to answer.”
“Tch. Not that. Who would win if you fought the Rotinzel lot?”
“It depends on the opponent.”
“Ugh.”
Fabian’s evasive tone only made Heini’s stomach boil. Jeanne, watching with a faint smile, interjected.
“Fabian is the knight ranked among the best in Bluisol. He would not lose in a one-on-one against any Rotinzel knight.”
“How can you believe that?”
“Whether you believe or not is your affair.”
“I don’t like it.”
Heini crossed her arms. Seeing Jeanne, who looked no older than herself yet lived in a different world entirely, he felt irritated.
“Then I shall watch you and follow from ahead to see how strong you really are.”
Heini strode forward without waiting for Jeanne’s permission.
Fabian spoke to Jeanne.
“Are you certain this is wise? The dignity of the palace may suffer.”
“Let it. The palace has already lost trust; what use is dignity or authority now? Besides, I have already adapted fully to divine power, so I feel no unease.”
Though Fabian criticized Heini’s rude behavior, Jeanne paid it no mind.
She called out to the figure ahead.
“Do you know where we are going?”
“Ah.”
She was not guiding them now; she must simply follow behind Jeanne and Fabian. Blushing from embarrassment, Heini hurried to position herself at their rear.
Jeanne let out a soft laugh.
Heini could follow or not; it mattered not. Jeanne and Fabian continued onward.
Jeanne wandered the forest with familiar ease.
Unlike the sheltered noble daughters who had grown up only within the palace walls, she had spent much of her childhood outside the castle walls. Because she was not the queen’s child.
She had entered the capital only after some years had passed, yet even then she remained freer to come and go.
The small hut nestled in a forest clearing when the sun hung directly overhead.
Not grand enough for a villa, yet spacious enough to be called a shelter rather than a mere hut.
Around fourteen, Jeanne had found life inside the palace unbearably stifling. For her sake her then-master, Divine, had petitioned the palace to hold outdoor lessons there.
One could study ordinary subjects or, in secret, learn forbidden knowledge.
Jeanne stepped inside the building.
The space was as cramped as it appeared—one small room at most. The only furnishings were a desk and shelves.
Heini and Fabian entered, and the room felt instantly full.
Jeanne moved toward the wall lined with carved animal figures and examined them.
“What’s this scrawl?”
Heini sidled closer and tilted her head. Fabian scanned the wall and asked Jeanne.
“You were interested in drawing, Your Highness?”
“I studied under Divine; you were not my sword master then. So it is no surprise.”
“What do you mean?”
“You yourself consider it the scribbles of a child. Whoever discovers this place will think the same, so Divine’s plan succeeded perfectly.”
Among the countless animal drawings on the wall, Jeanne found the newest one.
Unlike the others, which looked years old, this one had been drawn so recently that the ink had barely dried.
“Before entering the king’s tomb I told Divine to meet me here. But if pursuit by the enemy forced me to leave too soon, I instructed her to leave a clue.”
One animal figure did not match one letter.
Divine had twisted the image further until it formed a complete cipher.
Only Jeanne, who had learned it from Divine herself, and perhaps one close friend could decode it.
“Well, even if I could decode it, it would not matter. By the time I guessed the meaning the location it pointed to would already be empty.”
The task at this site was complete.
Jeanne stepped outside, decoded the final character, and moved to the ladder beside the hut, climbing the nearest tree without it.
“Your Highness?”
Fabian tried to stop her, but she continued upward to the highest branch.
With arms spread wide the summer breeze cooled her. For a moment she felt free again. She returned to the present and gazed toward the distant horizon, recalibrating direction.
Though she knew this forest well, years had passed. She should have checked her bearings before departing.
“Enough.”
“Eek.”
Heini, who had climbed the tree without the ladder in search of something, slid down in frustration.
Once she reached a suitable height she leaped down and looked up.
“Knightess, you cannot climb as well as I? Use the ladder.”
“True. One cannot excel at everything.”
“If you admit it so easily it loses all fun.”
“And my name is Jeanne. Do not expect titles; call me Knight Jeanne. And you may call Fabian ‘Uncle’—I’ll not scold him for it.”
Jeanne stepped down, changed direction toward the spot she had noted earlier, and continued.
Heini glanced at Fabian and grinned.
“Fine.”
Fabian shook his head.
Now that her lord had been so casual with titles, they had already hardened into “Uncle.”
They resumed their journey to rejoin the Second Knight Order.
***
Rotinzel was an island nation, yet its horses were exceptionally well-bred.
To the point that even those who were not its original masters—Bluisol knights—could ride them without resistance. The animals were docile and obedient.
After parting from Jeanne, the first task the Second Order knights performed was to obtain mounts.
It was only logical; mobility was essential for quick strikes.
The suggestion had come from Divine. Following her strategy, they had raided the Rotinzel encampment.
Fortunately the enemy’s focus had been the fire at Roire Castle, so their response from the rear was delayed.
Though Divine was not suited to physical combat, she rode with surprising skill.
Diego had stolen one additional horse and together with the twenty they had taken they fled.
During the escape a skirmish broke out when they collided with the enemy.
The twenty knights, each one a match for any common soldier in strength, faced no shame in the duel.
Yet the belated pursuers loosed arrows, and when they clashed with the knights the battle grew fierce.
Diego checked the knight detachment safely inside the castle.
No deaths, only minor scratches and bruises.
Yet from the corner one knight kept glancing away from Diego and trying to hide.
Diego strode over.
“Knight Nael, what is the matter?”
“Nothing.”
Nael kept backing away, hiding his left arm behind his back.
Diego seized it. Unable to withstand the grip, Nael frowned.
Blood soaked his sleeve; he had been cut.
“Hmm. You are injured.”
“I am fine. It is only a leg wound; I can still move.”
Nael stubbornly refused to yield despite the pain. Diego clicked his tongue.
“A dual-wielder whose arm is injured and still claims he can fight.”
“I can continue.”
“Enough. Do not forget the captain’s order—stay and protect Divine.”
“Captain! I cannot obey this once.”
“The captain is not me; it is Princess Jeanne.”
“I will not accept it! A captain like Diego would never lose to a mere princess.”
When Jeanne had challenged Diego for the Second Order’s captaincy, Nael had not attended the duel.
Only later, when Diego lost and Jeanne became captain, had he accepted the fact—and ever since he had refused to recognize her.
Up to now his obedience to Jeanne had been obedience to Diego, not to her.
“Die by my hand and be silent.”
Diego’s voice dropped low.