Dante's Silent Challenge
One week since Patrick and Dante's arrival had ignited the second cold war.
What had begun as an endless clash now stirred with the winds of change. The change was brought not by Duke and Duchess Clementine nor even by Diane, but by Dante Knightray.
Since the day he first pushed that wrong button, Dante had been watching Idel in silence, waiting for any opportunity she might grant him.
“Don't call me by name.”
“Don't look at me like a puppy desperately trying to pee.”
“What? Why aren't you leaving?”
Even a small narrowing of distance would set Idel off again and again, yet Dante refused to give up. Or rather, it was closer to a matter of not being able to stop.
At first, he had only been observing to avoid repeating mistakes. But the more he watched, the more Idel's actions kept catching his eye.
Standing in the corner of the training ground as usual, gripping her neck, Idel suddenly caught Dante's gaze. He bit his lip tightly.
“This is strange...”
The Idel he had seen at Cafe Florant felt nothing like this.
Her straightforward words and attitude remained the same, but the Idel before him here seemed...
“Covered up like an uncomfortable outfit.”
It was Dante's upbringing that allowed him to sense what others, including Duke Clementine and the rest, could not.
From the moment of his birth, countless labels had trailed after Dante like tags.
“Heir of the Knightray House, Guardian of the Empire.”
“The Empire's New Shield.”
“Future Sword Master.”
All fine titles that seemed far too good for him. Yet Dante had never once been arrogant about his own abilities.
Since childhood, watching his mother fight at the borders, he had learned long ago that none of this was owed to him alone.
“The titles given to me are for someone else's hope.”
The soldiers spilling blood and sweat on the battlefield, or the citizens rebuilding their lands from ruins. And his mother had said that to succeed the Knightray name, one must also bear the weight of that hope.
So Dante had decided to accept those titles. To shoulder the hopes of others.
The problem was how to do it.
He did not have his father's gift for calming people with words.
After much thought, Dante chose the silent sword. To prove himself through action, to collide with his body, and to convey his sincerity. He challenged again and again until the message was delivered.
“That is the only way I know.”
Was that why Dante's eyes saw Idel as someone so similar to himself?
If the gap between them was simply that between goal and reality, Idel's discrepancy felt strangely odd.
Dante narrowed his eyes at Idel, propped against the neck, and tilted his head in thought.
“Why does Idel speak differently from her actions?”
Her expression seemed to match her words. She would furrow her brows, pout her lips, or even flick her eyebrows at times.
“But her body...?”
As Dante lingered in thought, Idel sensed his gaze and shot him a sharp glare.
“Hey, what are you looking at? Put your eyes away!”
Despite the irritation in her voice, Dante paid it no mind.
“Slightly puffed chest, hands habitually clenched, eyelashes trembling ever so faintly, and even the swallow she hastily swallowed.”
This was not the usual behavior when picking a fight. Analyzing Idel's actions with eyes like purple-tinged notes, Dante stepped closer and spoke.
“Why do your words and actions differ?”
“What? That doesn't sound like a thing to say.”
“The words you spoke to me earlier weren't born of genuine anger but calculated, weren't they?”
Idel, suddenly pierced to the core, fell silent for a moment. Her unconsciously blinking eyes stiffened her jaw and she retorted.
“No way? Hah! What are you even saying! Have you finally gone mad?”
Idel's desperate denial was useless. The moment her mouth opened, Dante noticed the subtle tremor in her pupils.
Observing the odd behavior of Idel, a thought struck Dante.
“Perhaps it's something words can't express.”
Dante, who had bundled himself and Idel into the same category, wore a serious expression.
It made sense. He himself was full of things words could barely convey.
“Then...”
Without hesitation, Dante reached the most probable conclusion. Instead of lingering, he raised his neck toward Idel just as he always had, aiming it at her.
“Please.”
“...What?”
“If words are difficult, let's understand each other through action. I will teach you the method.”
“No need for that nonsense!”
Despite Idel's refusal, Dante's stance remained unwavering. He had expected this reaction from her.
With a straight posture, Dante suddenly swung the neck at Idel.
Some people even rejected conversations through the body. They tried to express their hearts through action but failed. Those were the prime examples.
“Most of them gave up from the start, thinking it couldn't be done.”
And when facing such people, his mother would do this...
“Thud!”
She would meet the neck to the neck and read the opponent's heart in five exchanges. Remembering that sight, Dante confidently applied the same method to Idel.
It was the most effective method he knew.
However, there was one thing Dante had overlooked. Unlike the people he had observed, Idel had only been holding a sword for a month, and she was still a child.
“Aaaah!”
With a sincere scream, Dante's face flushed with shock. Idel, unable to react in time, had taken his neck against her face instead of her own sword.
“Idel!”
“Ugh... ugh...”
Dante hurriedly lowered his neck in the unforeseen situation. Before he could even set it down, he rushed to Idel, and then his movements froze completely.
It was because red blood was dripping from the nose of the curled-up Idel.
“...Ugh...”
Dante, frozen in place from the shock, saw light brown hair appear from the entrance of the training ground.
Jiana, who had come to the training ground to practice.
Jiana's eyes widened in surprise as she stepped into the training ground without knowing anything. The scene before her was unbelievable.
“What is this happening right now?”
Stopping her steps like Dante, she rolled her eyes to assess the situation.
“...Dante Knightray... struck Idel...?”
The thought that Dante would never do such a thing, along with Idel's words from their first meeting, flashed through Jiana's mind.
“Could it really be that Dante Knightray provoked Idel at our first meeting?”
Common sense told her he had no reason, yet the scene before her was crystal clear.
Dante standing with a neck in hand, Idel curled up and bleeding, and the distant neck.
In the clear situation of wielding violence, Jiana's blue eyes blazed with anger.
“...I don't know what happened between them, but even so, how could you hit... an innocent girl who isn't even holding a sword...!”
The fact that she had fought Idel had long been wiped from Jiana's mind. Or rather, not only wiped, but she had also failed to side with Idel and was now furious with herself.
“No matter who her father invited, Idel is my family!”
Even she thought Patrick’s words had been somewhat unsettling.
“I'll reflect later.”
With an expression eerily similar to Duke Clementine, Jiana narrowed her brows and immediately stepped between the two.
Like a protective hen, she stood in front of Idel, chest puffed and posture straighter than usual. She seemed to be trying to hide Idel from Dante.
From Jiana's lips came a firm, angry voice.
“Dante Knightray, did you just strike my little brother?”
Despite Jiana growling openly in front of him, Dante did not utter a single word.
Not because he admitted his mistake, but because he had not yet recovered from the shock.
Finally catching his breath, Dante barely managed to follow Jiana's sight to Idel, who was hidden behind her.
“...How can a person be so fragile?”
