The Pure White Knight (3)
The White Knight.
That was the nickname her father had given her long before the world ever started calling her by it. Born with fragile skin and a deathly pale complexion, the child who still dared to dream of knighthood had seemed so pitiful to him that he substituted an impossible wish for a name. And so, as she drew nearer to adulthood, he fretted endlessly over what words of comfort he might offer.
In the end those frettings proved worthless, yet the constitution that left her so vulnerable to the sun never improved. From the day she became a knight, Ru had therefore lived sealed inside specially forged helm and armor.
Which was why, standing before an enemy for the first time without a single plate of steel between them, the mingled liberation and pressure she felt would have been difficult for anyone else to imagine.
"..."
"..."
I feel naked. The metaphor was imperfect, yet that was precisely how the White Knight felt. Refreshing, yes—but also more than a little terrifying.
After all, she was alone in the heart of enemy territory with no supporting force whatsoever. Even for the White Knight, safety was far from guaranteed.
Still, she had infiltrated Beimesher by herself with quiet confidence, and for one reason alone.
"Ah, yes—Louise, was it? In any case, the reason we asked you to come here..."
"Excuse me, might we continue this conversation indoors?"
"Pardon?"
"My skin is rather delicate. I cannot stay in the sun for long. Please."
Who in their right mind would look at such a frail-looking woman and think White Knight? A half-measure who could barely step outside without a parasol.
Indeed, not a single person who had met her so far had guessed her identity—not even the Black Lady’s own subordinates. No one could easily imagine that this was the hero the knightly orders revered as the White Knight.
Risk remained, of course. Yet she had pressed into Beimesher alone because she had judged that if she let this chance slip, she would never catch the Black Lady again.
"Then let’s have a simple cup of tea before you go. Hot is fine?"
"Yes, that would be lovely. But… is this everyone who is coming?"
"It is."
"..."
The Black Lady never showed herself outside. The duel in Ernia had been a special circumstance. When Ru had let that heaven-sent opportunity slip away, she had believed the chance to capture the woman was gone forever.
Then this man had appeared. Claus—the Black Lady’s closest confidant. Unlike his mistress, he did not shun public activity, yet he was deeply involved in the organization’s affairs.
Capture him and the path to the Black Lady would open. In the eyes of the kingdom he was now the absolute priority target.
"Welcome, everyone. Once again, I’m Claus."
"Ah, yes. A pleasure. As I said earlier, I’m Louise Grisha Everdy… Everdyne."
"Everdyne?"
"Yes. Everdyne. First name Louise… surname Everdyne."
Louise Grisha Everdyne. In truth it was little more than a clumsy twist on Ru Everdeen. Unaccustomed to clandestine work thanks to her upright nature, she was hopeless at lying.
So the truth kept leaking out whether she wanted it to or not. Asking them to call her simply “Ru” had been the bare minimum measure to avoid further mistakes.
"Ru. You asked us to call you that. Understood. Then how about a handshake?"
"Pardon? Ah… yes… shall we?"
Ru swallowed hard. She had not shaken anyone’s hand since the age of eleven, when she had casually crushed the fingers of a visiting knight. Human durability, to her, simply did not rise above that level.
Chronic dread that her identity might be exposed sent sweat streaming down her entire body. Yet the fated moment arrived, and the White Knight finally clasped hands with the Black Lady’s right hand.
"A pleasure."
"Yes, a pleasure."
Fortunately there was still no sign he had noticed. Even the Black Lady’s closest subordinate could not imagine that this woman was the White Knight.
So this is the thrill of espionage. Savoring the electric rush, Ru managed to force the corners of her mouth upward.
Huh.
This woman… she’s that knight from back then.
I knew it the instant our hands met. Reading an opponent’s nature through the blade is the most basic of basics in swordsmanship. Of course, thanks to that eccentric master of mine, I had learned the skill a little deeper and wider than most.
He’d said it would come in handy someday if I ever had to fight someone whose face was hidden. He’d even thrown in nonsense about a secret dark organization and assassins of the swift sword, so I’d completely forgotten the trick for a while.
Never expected I’d actually use it like this. I ought to have been glad to put the lesson to work, yet an entirely different thought was circling in my head.
…
I… lost in pure strength to a sickly noble young lady like this…?
"…Ru. You asked us to call you that. Understood. Then how about a handshake?"
"Pardon? Ah… yes… shall we?"
I shoved the rising self-loathing aside and offered my hand with an awkward smile. She took it while trembling from head to toe, as though the effort itself was almost too much.
It took less than a single second for me to regret the decision.
"..."
"…Urgh."
Had nerves made her fail to control her strength? I nearly had every bone in my hand shattered. Even after she let go, a faint ache lingered.
So even the weakest knights average out around that level? Showing pain would only be humiliating, so I forced a normal expression and opened my mouth.
"A pleasure."
"Yes, a pleasure."
She answered brightly while I hid the pain. Yet cold sweat kept pouring down her entire body for some reason, and the shadows under her eyes made her look thoroughly unwell.
Maybe higher-ups had chewed her out over the mess in Ernia. Curiosity always got the better of me, so I asked straight out.
"So, Miss Ru, what business brings you all the way to Beimesher? You look like the daughter of a noble house."
"Pardon? Ah… well, something rather unfortunate happened recently. I had to change residences in a hurry, you see…"
"Hmm."
"Then I heard the rumor that Beimesher had become a wonderful place to live thanks to you, Claus. It’s far from my hometown, so I thought it would be a good place to sort out my thoughts."
Demoted, just as I thought.
A smile sat on her face, yet behind it clung a darkness that would never wash clean. Whether she was pretending not to know me while trying to stay on my good side, or the shock of demotion had simply made her forget—either way it was pitiful.
Noble society looked glamorous from the outside, but the power struggles inside were supposedly vicious. You never really knew how a person’s life would turn out.
The thought sparked a sudden wave of sympathy; every word she spoke now made her look more miserable.
"My father said it would be for the best. Of course he’ll be lonely with only himself at home, but he thought this would be better for me…"
Only her father. So no other family? Poor thing.
"…Fortunately I didn’t have much luggage. I’ve always lived simply…"
Everything seized, then.
"…So I just came alone, quietly. By carriage all the way from the capital…"
Not even one friend to see her off.
"…I hope I’ll meet many good people here. I… I will, won’t I?"
Even Lia hadn’t been this bad. What a wretched life.
The more I listened, the more tears threatened to well up. A sickly noble young lady who had left everything—family, friends, fortune—behind and come alone to a distant land.
And the thought that I myself might have been the cause made it almost unbearable to keep looking at her face. Any longer and the conscience I had carefully guarded for decades would shatter, so I hurried to wrap up the conversation.
"Ah, yes. I’m sure you will. If you ever need anything, just speak to me… no, to any of our people."
"Oh… are you leaving already?"
"I only came to pay my respects today. I was curious how you were settling in, and you seem fine enough."
"I… see."
Something like faint disappointment colored her reply. I rose from my seat before I could even wonder what it meant.
"Then I’ll be going. We’ll meet again."
"Yes. I’m sorry for taking up your time."
"Not at all."
I gave a polite bow and turned toward the door. That was when a sudden scrape of chair legs struck my back.
"W-wait a moment."
"Ghk—!"
Ru seized my arm with zero restraint; the joint screamed a warning of imminent crisis. Both the one caught and the one catching froze, staring at each other in mutual horror.
"Wh-what is it?"
"Pardon? Ah… well…"
She stared at my arm for a long time, unable to form words. At last she seemed to recover and asked in the softest voice she could manage.
"I didn’t mention it earlier because it felt rude on a first meeting, but there are a few matters I could use help with. If it’s all right… could you come again tomorrow so we might talk further? I’ll prepare a meal as well."
"A meal?"
"Yes. And… there’s also something personal I’d like to ask you, Claus… ah, nothing strange, just…"
"..."
"So… could you spare a little time tomorrow?"
The rough-edged request carried all the hesitation and flutter of a first love. Purely a figure of speech, of course—yet on that pale noble face, now flushed, something far beyond mere excitement seemed to glow.
The fresh scent of spring, come from a distant land. Once, while teaching me the sword, Master had suddenly insisted—twice, thrice—that I learn how a man should respond when a beautiful woman asked him out.
I didn’t exactly worship the old man’s every word, yet the proper reaction for a man in this situation was crystal clear. The moment resolve hardened, I gently freed my arm from hers and answered with a smile.
"I’m busy tomorrow."