Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Translation: godsn
"No. He agreed. He promised to fully accommodate the retired soldiers' living quarters within the Royal Castle."
"Haa."
Only then did Neril let out a sigh of relief. Her mentor was a man of principle—once he said no, it was a firm refusal to the end.
He was the type who wouldn't bend his will even with a sword at his throat, which was why she had thought the princess would fail.
'That's precisely why I never dared to visit him after leaving the knight order.'
"Would you like to greet him before we leave?"
Medeia gestured with her chin toward the office where the Marquess was. The door to his study remained firmly shut. Neril shook her head.
"He wouldn't want to see me. Besides, we must return to the Royal Palace before evening."
The two descended to Hojeong, where the carriage awaited their return to the palace.
"Your Highness, considering the carriage you arrived in appears rather worn, we have prepared a new one for you. Please, this way."
Perhaps having received word from the Marquess, the butler guided Medeia with a far more cordial demeanor than before.
The carriage stationed in Hojeong looked like an ordinary four-wheeled coach at first glance.
But upon closer inspection, its exterior was reinforced with thin steel plates, and even the wheel rims were made of iron.
"The carriage may be different, but the coachman remains the same. I'll ensure you reach the palace safely, without so much as a speck of dust touching you."
As Tom leaned against the carriage and spoke, Neril strode toward him briskly.
Turning her back to the princess, she grabbed Tom by the collar with one hand and struck his solar plexus with the other.
"Get lost. Don't you dare show your face around here again."
"Kghh...! That's... harsh, my friend."
Tom had to grit his teeth through his forced smile. What had they been feeding him at the palace to make him this strong?
"Wow... Seriously, no joke."
He had to brace his trembling knees to avoid collapsing disgracefully in front of the princess.
"You think I wouldn't realize you deliberately drove that piece of junk?"
When Neril glared at him, Tom raised both hands in surrender.
"Do you think I wanted to? Even I don't fancy crossing the temper of someone so noble."
That meant...
"Did the Master order you to do it?"
"The moment either you or the princess stepped out of the carriage and opened your mouths, I would've turned the horses right back to the palace."
A chill ran down Neril's spine. It had all been a test.
Had she gotten out and confronted Tom or tried to silence the soldiers by force, today's meeting would have ended in failure.
Did the Master know everything? Was that why he stopped me?
'Just how many moves ahead is Her Highness seeing?'
Tom scoffed at Neril, who stood speechless.
"Did you really think just anyone could meet our Master if he said so? How naïve."
"Just anyone? How dare you call Valdina's bloodline 'just anyone'?"
As Neril snapped back, Tom shook his head as if exasperated.
"You're like a mother hen guarding her chicks. Seems you've gotten even more protective than before."
Then he added,
"Well, I should still say what needs to be said. The Master mentioned earlier that choosing to serve the princess as your master wasn't a foolish decision."
"What?"
Neril turned her head toward the tower where the Marquess's room was.
Beside the violet curtains, she thought she glimpsed a familiar silhouette and locked eyes with him.
"...So if even the Master acknowledges you, what's the point of me throwing a tantrum? I'll make up for earlier by being a dutiful coachman again, got it? Hey! Where are you going?!"
Tom shouted after Neril, who suddenly turned and sprinted toward the Marquess's residence.
"Your Highness, please wait a moment!"
Ignoring Tom's words effortlessly, Neril called out to the princess.
She took two or three steps at a time, climbing the stone staircase.
The steep steps left her breathless in an instant, but Neril didn't stop.
Bang.
She flung open the mahogany door and strode down the hallway. The familiar curtains, furniture, and carpet welcomed her.
Just like on that vivid day in her memories, her Master stood by the window.
"Huff, M-Mas... huff, Master...!"
Gilifos slowly turned around. At the end of an exasperated sigh, a faint smile lingered on his lips.
"Still as impatient as ever, I see."
"Tom, I—huff—Master, you—huff—approved of my choice."
"So you ran all the way here? Just to hear those words from this old man's mouth?"
Marquess Gilifos's face darkened with anger.
"N-no, huff—that's not it."
Neril steadied her breathing, lifted her head, and grinned.
"I've come to take back the weapon I entrusted to you, hoo—Master. You remember our wager, don't you?"
She strode forward with heavy steps. Then she retrieved the greatsword hanging on the wall.
"Stay well, Master. I'll see you again."
"Go on, then, you brat."
Marquess Gilifos waved her off dismissively and slammed the door shut as if shooing her away.
"You'd throw away your knighthood to become the Princess's maid? Have you lost your mind?"
She had been his treasured disciple. That was why he couldn't understand.
"Was it His Majesty? Did he plant these absurd notions in your head? Do you think I raised you just so you could die like a dog under factional pressure?"
"If not me, Her Highness the Princess has no one left. I want to protect her, Master. Please, grant me your permission."
"The moment you step out that door! You'll no longer be my disciple, nor a knight. If you're going to the Princess, leave your sword behind and go empty-handed."
"Master...!"
"Unless I acknowledge you, you'll never wield that blade again."
"That stubborn fool—she really threw it down and left when I told her to."
The Marquess shook his head as he reminisced. He gazed down through the window.
"Neril, you were better than me."
His disciple had seen the stars even in the mud, but he had not.
After the Late King's death, he had lost all hope.
He had abandoned everything—his dream of restoring Valdina to greatness, his disgust for the hyenas salivating over power.
He had despaired, believing the stars would never rise again.
Now, the stubbornness and foolishness of those bygone years felt painfully fresh.
Perhaps the real fool had been him all along. Yet, there was one consolation—
"I am the Princess of Valdina. I must do what a Princess must."
"So the gods have not yet abandoned this land."
The light of Valdina had endured.
A faint smile touched Marquess Gilifos's lips as he watched the departing carriage.
[A suitable site has been located.]
A few days later, Marquess Gilifos sent word through Neril.
The message included a rough outline of the plan and related details.
Coincidentally, the chosen site was near the fortress walls.
"So he means to use it for the Royal Castle's defense if necessary."
Typical of a former general.
"Neril, tell him to compile a list of the retired soldiers staying at the estate. Include their families, every last one."
That way, they wouldn't dare consider joining the Rebel Army.
Though Medeia had spent her entire fortune to secure their livelihoods, she held not an ounce of trust in them.
Men forget gratitude once their bellies are full.
"Strictly speaking, retired soldiers are the royal family's responsibility, yet Your Highness is draining your entire fortune to save them...?"
Neril couldn't hide her displeasure.
"What, are you worried I'll end up penniless?"
"...Frankly, as an investment, I think it's doomed. You're pouring water into a bottomless jar."
Medeia giggled at Neril's rare grumbling.
"I'm the cursed Princess, after all. At worst, I'll just be a little more wretched than I am now. Better I go bankrupt than let Valdina collapse, no?"
Her lighthearted jest carried an oddly sharp edge, making Neril pause.
The Princess treated even herself as kindling, ready to burn at any moment if it meant saving Valdina.
'As if Your Highness owes this country some debt...'
It was a desperation that went beyond the simple patriotism expected of royalty.
'I must be too dull to keep up with Her Highness's vision.'
Neril didn't know what had shaped her young mistress this way.
"...If Your Highness goes bankrupt, I'll take care of you."
That was all she could manage to say.
"Ahaha."
A soft laugh scattered like fragile glass under the sunlight.
"Well, then, I'll just live with you, Neril."
Why did that faint smile ache so?
Just as Medeia stepped into the palace, a waiting maid approached.
"What is it?"
"Your Highness, the Duchess Claudio is waiting inside for you."