Chapter 17
The Flower That Bears a Sword - Chapter 17
Translation: godsn
'I must be really irritating him for him to tolerate me this well.'
Eki scratched at her sleep-mussed hair as she rose and picked up the appointment letter. A complicated emotion welled up as she read the contents. Combined with meeting Yurien last night and the dreams she'd had throughout the night, it felt even more tangled. She folded the letter carelessly and shoved it into a drawer.
She wasn't quite sure how she'd managed to return to the dormitory and fall asleep last night. One thing was certain—she hadn't been in her right mind.
If Yurien remembered, there was no way he wouldn't hate her. She had betrayed his trust, slaughtered everyone in his home, and killed him.
Because of the Magic Sword? That was only from her perspective. Could the family or lover of someone she'd killed possibly forgive her just because she said it was the Magic Sword's fault and apologized? Could anyone look at her drenched in their loved one's blood and say, It was the Magic Sword's doing, you had no choice, you're not guilty? Could they face the woman who killed their precious person and smile?
If that were possible, they wouldn't be human—they'd be a saint.
So why was Yurien behaving so inexplicably? It was more reasonable to think there was another reason than to believe he was a saint who could smile at the woman who'd killed him.
Either he didn't remember. Or even if he did, he wasn't certain she was the Demon of the Magic Sword.
'The Birthday Banquet...'
If he didn't remember, it was highly likely she'd done something at last year's Emperor's Birthday Banquet to catch his attention. Yurien had said he'd seen her then. The problem was, for Eki, that event was over fifteen years in the past.
She was sure she'd seen Yurien, but equally sure they'd never spoken or crossed paths. So had she done something to draw his attention without realizing? She wracked her brain trying to recall if she'd done anything particularly memorable, but nothing came to mind.
'I don't know. Damn it.'
Eki rose and opened the wardrobe. As she pulled out the dress she'd wear today, she considered the other possibility—that he remembered, but didn't know she was the Demon of the Magic Sword.
'He might suspect me. After all, an Officer Cadet who didn't exist in the erased past has suddenly appeared. But he couldn't be certain. My identity is clear, and there's no evidence.'
She glared at her right hand, encased in silk gloves. Beneath them lay irreversible proof. Eki curled her fingers into a fist, then took out her corset and petticoat and tossed them onto the bed.
'If he remembers but has no evidence and is just keeping watch... If he suspects I'm the Demon of the Magic Sword who might commit some atrocity at any moment...'
Eki gave a bitter smile. Taking out her jewelry box, she muttered,
"He'd keep me as close as possible... and watch me. Until he finds definitive proof."
[What are you suddenly talking about?]
"I think I know why Yurien appointed me as his Squire."
[Wait, you mean he made you his Squire to keep an eye on you?]
"It's just one possibility."
Had he asked to spar to confirm his suspicions? What would he do if he became certain she was the Demon of the Magic Sword? At the very least, he wouldn't smile at her like he had yesterday. Her chest ached faintly. Her gaze fell on the folded cloak resting atop the drawer—the one Yurien had draped over her. Eki stared at it, deeply unsettled, then tucked it deep inside the drawer where it wouldn't catch her eye.
Either way, there was only one thing she could do now. She had to ensure no one could suspect the Demon of the Magic Sword—she had to appear solely as 'Echinacea Roaz.' She began dressing with militant precision.
Getting ready alone without Nora wasn't easy. The corset in particular was difficult—it wasn't designed to be put on solo. Using mana, she pulled the laces tight from behind. Any Master witnessing such precise manipulation would be horrified.
After putting on the corset, she pulled on stockings and fastened them with a garter belt. She slipped into a petticoat, then draped a pale yellow dress adorned with abundant ruffles over it. She brushed her hair, gathering it into a half-up style, and secured it with an ornate hairpiece surrounded by frills and jewels. She applied makeup, put on earrings and a necklace, and stepped into a pair of high-heeled shoes.
Though tedious, there was a certain pleasure in the process. Watching herself in the mirror grow prettier by the minute was undeniably satisfying.
Finally, she removed her silk gloves and replaced them with a pair embroidered to match her dress. Beneath the golden-threaded embroidery, the ominous mark on her palm—a constant reminder of vigilance—was hidden from view.
For a noble lady dressing herself, she had finished remarkably quickly, though it had still taken a considerable amount of time. Before she knew it, it was nearly nine o'clock.
Eki picked up the longsword she had neglected since yesterday's duel and left her room. The concept of treasuring a sword didn't exist for her. She didn't particularly like swords, and if one broke, she could always buy another.
The 4th Training Ground, located east of the main building, was little more than a small clearing. The high walls and the pavilion on one side—more like a simple structure—suggested it was designed for both training and discussions.
Ian Pelletro was waiting for her inside the pavilion, seated on a bench. He wasn't alone. A man with russet hair sat across from him. As Eki entered, Ian waved with a smile.
"Welcome, Cadet Echinacea."
Now that she knew what kind of person he was, that smile of his made her skin crawl. Thinking back, it had been suspicious—discussing squire matters in the crowded common dining hall, where cadets would soon see the official notice, and even setting the time and place for the duel right there.
'Not like I can do anything about it now. I'll just have to be careful around him from now on.'
She clicked her tongue inwardly but greeted him politely.
"Good morning, Senior."
"Yeah, sleep well? Oh, this is Bread von Poum, a third-year cadet. Say hello."
"Echinacea Roaz, Senior Bread."
Ian introduced the man in front of him. The man looked Eki up and down, then grinned—slow, deliberate.
"Quite the looker. Don't worry, I'll teach you well."
His smile was uncomfortable, his words even more so. Eki furrowed her brow, and Ian gave her an apologetic look.
"Normally, I'd handle the preliminary training, but I just can't spare the time today, so I called Bread. He's got plenty of experience as a temporary squire, so he'll guide you properly."
"...Understood."
A bad feeling settled in her gut. Ian flashed his usual amiable smile and gave her shoulder a friendly pat.
"See you later, then. I've got places to be."
Once he left, only Eki and Bread remained in the training ground. Bread slouched back, arms crossed, eyeing her before finally speaking.
"You've got a month before becoming an official squire, huh? Tight schedule."
"I'll be in your care."
"For today, you're my squire. You'll attend to me."
"...Yes, Senior."
"You call me Lord. That's basic."
Squires addressed the knights they served as Lord—but calling a mere officer cadet, not even a full knight, by that title was excessive. Worse, the way he was looking at her was sticky, like syrup clinging to skin. Eki barely managed to keep her frown from deepening and obediently lowered her head.
"Yes, Lord."
"Good. Now, rub my legs."
Bread leaned back on the bench and stretched his legs forward. For a moment, Eki was speechless. It was true that squires served their knights, but did that really include massaging their legs? A squire was a knight-in-training, not some all-purpose servant.
"Massage my legs, you say?"
"Are you questioning your Lord's command? Just do as you're told."
"I was under the impression today's training was for squire preparation?"
"That's exactly what we're doing—squire preparation. How dare you talk back?"
Bread's face twisted in displeasure. The ominous premonition she'd felt earlier was materializing. Ian Pelletro had undoubtedly deliberately assigned this bastard to her instead. Eki gritted her teeth before responding.
"Is leg massage practice necessary for a squire?"
"Just do it without all this backtalk! Or do you not want to be a squire?"
Bread suddenly roared. Eki stood motionless, looking down at him before asking coldly:
"How exactly would you like me to massage them?"
"Do I need to spell out every little thing? Kneel here, take off my boots, and massage them. Ah, remove your gloves—bare hands only."
Tapping the floor beneath the bench with his foot, Bread gave a slimy smile.
"Consider this customized training just for you. Be gentle."
"...Customized training?"
"Training perfectly tailored to the kind of service you're aiming to provide. Weren't you admitted as a cadet precisely for that purpose anyway?"
"I'm afraid I don't follow what you're implying."
"Playing innocent while swishing your skirts about. Do you think everyone else is stupid? We all know you're just trying to snag a knight to marry. Why else would you dress like that if not to catch men's eyes?"
The absurdity of his logic left her speechless. Snag a knight to marry? Dressing to catch men's eyes? This was such innovative nonsense she'd never even considered it possible. Deciding to see how far he'd go, Eki closed her mouth and simply watched him. Bread's gaze slid down to her chest.
"With your figure and pretty face, it's a smart strategy. Your entrance scores too—after yesterday's duel, everyone figured it out. How could someone with such mediocre swordsmanship become top cadet? Turns out your other scores were average, but your overwhelming performance against a junior knight in the second exam secured your rank."
"......"
"Though honestly, if you could seduce that monk-like Captain, a junior knight would be child's play. What exactly did you melt to get nominated as squire on your very first day?"
"That's the rumor circulating? After just one day?"
"It's obvious, isn't it? Can't blame you—brilliant strategy, really. Even snaring the Captain. Turns out even His Lofty Highness is just a man after all. Been serving him nights since before admission, have you? Now as an official squire, you can attend him openly. Must be getting steamy every night."
Eki laughed in sheer disbelief.
During her time as the Demon of the Magic Sword, she'd endured enough curses and insults to last a lifetime. While gathering Giosa, she'd heard vulgarities from mercenaries that surpassed anything the noble lady she once was could have imagined. Normally, she could let such nonsense slide.
But this crossed a line. This was too despicable. And dragging Yurien into it—
[Master, you're annoyed now, aren't you? Angry? Just kill him. Simple, right? Use me, yes?]
Valdergiosa, sensing her rage, chattered excitedly. Ironically, his urging helped calm her.
She'd never expected an inconspicuous, peaceful life anyway. Becoming a Master by age twenty-three meant her skills would inevitably draw attention. Her original persona was that eccentric genius knight who insisted on wearing dresses, wasn't it? So adding "hot-tempered" and "disrespectful" to her reputation wouldn't hurt. Certainly better than filthy rumors about serving the Captain at night to secure her squire position.
That didn't mean she intended to tolerate this. Her voice remained soft as she said:
"You're being rather harsh, senior."