The Day the First Snow Falls (4)

Marion buried her face in Maxim’s chest and rubbed her cheek against him, then practically draped her entire upper body over him as if she had no intention of holding back. She didn’t seem to care in the slightest that he was still a patient, so Maxim simply accepted her without a word. Like a cat in heat, she kept pressing herself into his hands and against his chest.

“What are you doing?” Maxim asked, stroking her hair. Marion answered in a muffled voice, face still buried in his embrace.

“I’m erasing the strange smell that’s clinging to you.”

She spoke as if the question itself were absurd. Maxim couldn’t bring himself to ask exactly what kind of smell she was trying to remove. After answering, Marion pressed her head against him even harder. Though Maxim smiled awkwardly, he couldn’t stop her. He had committed his share of sins; he had no right to protest either her actions or her words.

“It’s soaked in deeper than I expected…”

Maxim decided his fiancée must possess some special ability. Marion stopped sniffing and simply held him for a long while, as if he were an oversized doll. When she finally lifted her head again, her smile was far brighter than before. She seemed satisfied that she had thoroughly overlaid her own scent on top of the “strange smell.”

“There. That should do it.”

Maxim didn’t ask what she meant. Even though she had succeeded in covering him with her scent, Marion showed no sign of wanting to peel herself away from him.

“Um… Marion?”

Maxim called her name cautiously. The current position and expression were far too easy to misunderstand if a nurse walked in, so he was trying to get her to sit up properly.

“Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“Not at all. You’re the one who might be uncomfortable, Maxim. If having me like this bothers you, should I get up?”

The chill in her voice made it impossible for him to tell her to move. Her clenched fists made her look exactly like a sulking cat—adorable, really—but Maxim couldn’t fully enjoy the sight.

After staying in that position a few minutes longer, Marion slowly pushed herself up, bracing her hand against the bed. Her fingertips lingered on the sheet for a moment, reluctant, before letting go.

“Maxim.”

He looked into her lake-blue eyes. They showed no tremor of anxiety. While he inwardly marveled at how much she had grown, he also scolded himself.

“What is it?”

“I’ve heard the name Christine several times already. And she said she met you before I did.”

Her eyes burned with determination to face this head-on. Maxim didn’t look away.

“Yes. Today must have been the first time you actually saw each other face to face.”

“It wasn’t exactly a pleasant first impression, but… yes, it was.”

After delivering those sharp words, Marion let out a heavy sigh. Her man was upright and honorable, but he had too much affection; he would probably attract women without even realizing it.

“Tell me, Maxim. What kind of person is Christine? What is your relationship with her? How did you meet, and how do you feel about her?”

I won’t run away from this. With that resolve, Marion looked straight at him. She probably had just as many stories tied to Maxim as he did to her. That was why she needed to know. Perhaps—even though she hated the thought—she might have to leave a place beside him open.

Maxim let out a long, shallow sigh. He was at a loss for how to explain his junior, who openly admired him yet could not be pushed away. He decided to tell Marion everything, from the very beginning, without hiding a single thing.

Even if she looked at him ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with disillusionment, even if she hated him for a while, he would endure every emotion if it meant they could overcome what lay ahead together.

“…Christine was once my subordinate, my junior, and someone connected to my curse.”

Marion’s expression hardened—cold and frightening. Still, she simply watched him, as if determined to hear the story to the end.

“She came from an orphanage. She showed talent for mana from a young age, so the Magic Tower sent people for her. She was taken there and began her training.”

It had been a turbulent life. Once the Magic Tower acknowledged her, the orphanage that had raised her fell into crisis. The request she accepted to help them turned out to be part of a conspiracy to curse someone. To seek forgiveness and atone, she joined a failing knight order on the verge of collapse—and that was where she met Maxim.

“…I see.”

Marion sighed deeply, unsure whether she should be angry or let it go.

“So you forgave her.”

“There wasn’t anything to forgive in the first place. The only person I need to hate is Count Benning.”

Maxim spoke in a calm voice. Since the story involved her as well, Marion had grown quiet, returning to her usual self.

“…I’m sorry. For suddenly pressing you like this.”

“It was something I should have told you eventually. You don’t need to apologize.”

Even as guilt continued to twist inside his chest, Maxim forced the words out. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠story continued, moving on to what had happened in the Raven Knight Order. What occurred after Theodora arrived, the circumstances that led them to No Man’s Land, and everything that had taken place between him and Marion during that time. When Maxim recalled those events, Marion’s face flushed with embarrassment, but unlike before she didn’t try to avoid the subject.

“After the No Man’s Land incident, it was Christine who stopped them from kidnapping me while I was unconscious.”

Marion narrowed her eyes.

“Kidnapping…?”

“She planned to turn me into a Puppet and use me however she liked. It failed, of course.”

Christine had been stabbed by Roberto’s sword and was dying when she tried to atone to Maxim until her final breath. He had already received more than enough atonement, yet she still…

After that, the mages sent by the Magic Tower kidnapped Christine, and the story flowed into the present. Meeting Adeline, being imprisoned in the Magic Tower’s underground dungeon, discovering clues about Christine, and ultimately rescuing her.

“So there was a reason you had to save her.”

“…Yes. I had to.”

After listening to everything, Marion closed her eyes. Maxim waited quietly until she had sorted through her thoughts. When she opened them again, her gaze held a measure of understanding.

“I’m glad you saved her.”

Maxim blinked, surprised, then smiled bitterly.

“Thank you for saying that.”

If he hadn’t been able to save her, how deep would his despair have been? Marion gazed at him, wondering. Had he been thinking the same thing when he saved her? She even wondered if asking him these questions was selfish of her.

“Still… I’m a little jealous.”

Marion’s expression turned slightly sullen. The words important person and precious person echoed in her mind as she gripped the edge of Maxim’s bedsheet tightly.

Maxim placed his hand on her bowed head. She narrowed her eyes in pleasure at his touch, then flopped back down onto him. Her arms wrapped firmly around his waist, and Maxim gave a small start.

“Marion?”

She lifted only her face while still holding him. Realizing she had squeezed too hard, she timidly loosened the strength in her arms. In truth, whether she held him tightly or gently, her strength could never hurt him.

“I’m going to exercise my fiancée privilege now.”

“…All right.”

Maxim silently moved his hand to her hair again. As he gently stroked it, a mumbled voice rose from her.

“I’ve been working hard at the Royal Palace.”

Maxim gave a low chuckle. He already knew. Along with the Count’s request, Marion had been carrying out her duties brilliantly. After he rescued her from Murat, her transformation had been dramatic.

It was fortunate she was by his side. Seeing her like this was salvation for him as well.

“You were always diligent in Murat too. You’re not pushing yourself too hard, are you?”

“I want to be helpful. Besides, you’re the one who’s always overdoing it.”

At her petulant tone, Maxim had no reply. Marion had now fully climbed onto the bed.

“Her Highness the Princess even let me leave work early so I could come see you.”

Only to find another woman visiting you.

Marion added the last part in a voice so soft it was barely audible.

“You’ve worked hard.”

When Maxim spoke gently, Marion buried her face in his chest once more. He could feel her small sigh against him.

“I didn’t want to act this spoiled.”

“It’s your fiancée privilege.”

Apparently displeased with his answer, Marion puffed out her cheeks a little.

“That’s mean.”

Without further explanation, she buried her head again. Mean—he seemed to have heard that word several times lately. Maxim shook his head and focused on stroking her hair. As always, her well-cared-for locks were soft and carried a pleasant scent.

A year was drawing to a close. Just as someone had once said, the Magic Tower incident was gradually fading from people’s memories, and the square once again saw increasing foot traffic. After the first snowfall, snow fell quite often. It piled up in the square, and children built snowmen and threw snowballs at one another on the very ground where the dungeon had once stood.

People’s attention had now shifted to the martial tournament in the Royal Capital that would be held at the turning of the year. What remarkable knight would appear this time? Who would claim victory and rise as the new star of the capital? People dug up stories about the previous two years’ winners and all the various tales the tournament had spawned.

In truth, the Royal Capital’s martial tournament was a festival period disguised as a competition. For ten days, people could set aside all other thoughts and simply enjoy themselves. It was a special event not only for the citizens but for the nobles as well. To their eyes, the New Year’s martial tournament appeared less like a pure festival and more like the fierce political maneuvering taking place behind the scenes.

For the knights of the Royal Capital—indeed, for knights across the entire kingdom—it was arguably the most important day of the year. Enormous sums of money were poured into breaking through the hellish preliminaries just to appear in the main bracket. Bribes for the judges, favors for nobles higher in rank—everything was part of the game.

And for those vying for the pinnacle of power, it served as a preliminary skirmish. A chance to gauge the opponent’s strength and identify knights who could become their own forces. With the preliminaries approaching, both the Royal Capital and the Royal Palace spent their days steeped in sharp tension.

Meanwhile, the Raven Knight Order, having learned of the Magic Tower incident far too late, still could not quell their fury. Leon Benning had completely ignored them when forming the personnel, so they only received the news after everything had already been settled.

“No matter how much we were recruited merely for appearances, we aren’t so incompetent that we should be excluded ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from a matter of such national importance.”

Paola growled in a low voice. She hadn’t been pleased about being placed under the Second Prince to begin with; now they were being treated like medals displayed in a glass case. It was enough to make anyone angry.

With her face twisted in displeasure, she spat, “We are knights, not babysitters for some spoiled brat.”

Expectations had never been high, but as Paola said, the Second Prince truly was little more than a child. His martial talent was outstanding and his mind seemed reasonably sharp, yet he still possessed the temperament of an immature boy. It occasionally exhausted the Raven Knight Order members assigned to guard him.

Sitting across from her was Theodora. She, too, was clearly displeased with the situation; her expression was far from bright.

“Vice Commander, your voice is too loud. Please restrain yourself.”

Paola sighed and nodded. Her attitude suggested she wouldn’t care even if they dragged her away for lese-majeste and executed her.

“If they’re going to treat us like chaff in this tournament as well, we might as well return to being adventurers.”

Paola grumbled as she sat down. Theodora, in an unusually flat tone, addressed the rarely angry vice commander.

“They won’t treat us that way during the tournament.”

Paola raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think so?”

“If we were truly only for show, the New Year’s martial tournament would be the perfect opportunity to display us.”

Theodora spoke bitterly as she gazed out the window. It was the familiar winter landscape—snow piled high, bare branches trembling in the wind. In her hand was the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠message Leon Benning had sent.

“Vice Commander.”

Paola accepted the letter with a dark expression. Theodora, who must have received it with equally heavy feelings, wore an equally hollow look.

“Yes, Commander.”

“What is right… and what is wrong?”

Theodora’s shadowed face trembled as her fist shook.

“…Whatever you choose to do will be the right thing, Commander.”

Having no choice but to offer such a clichéd answer, Paola let out another deep sigh. Her chest felt stifled. Declaring that she needed to swing her sword to clear her mind, she rose from her seat. It was just then that news arrived that the First Prince’s swordsmanship instructor had returned.