Chapter 68

Edwin was afraid.

He had stood unmoved even if legions of monsters surged forward or the earth opened and flames leapt up, yet an anxiety gnawed at him now that he might lose Elicia.

Honestly, he just wanted her to stop suffering.

He wanted her to enjoy luxuries like other noblewomen, or to lie in the sun with a book she loved and take lazy naps.

If that was impossible, at least he wanted to stay by her side. He wanted to protect her by any means so she would stop getting hurt.

He knew even that wish was selfish.

“Please open your eyes, please…”

It had been three days since Elicia collapsed.

Edwin had barely slept during those three days. He kept vigil at her bedside.

He splashed water on his face, raked more fuel into the stove, then wiped Elicia’s forehead gently with a fresh wet cloth.

He sat back down, ready to drown in guilt again, when quiet footsteps sounded outside.

Edwin’s gaze sharpened.

After shutting the door, Gareth was kneeling in the middle of the corridor, waiting.

“Report. The governor of Bellamare, Count Dorva, is dead.”

“The body?”

“The townspeople burned him completely. There is nothing left to recover.”

The death of his only uncle was terrible, yet Edwin felt no stir of grief.

His anger directed itself somewhere else.

The memory of Elicia’s ruined state, still unconscious after days, had branded itself to his mind.

“Get up.”

“Yes.”

In an instant, Edwin’s fist struck Gareth across the cheek.

Gareth was a skilled fighter, but Edwin’s rage was overwhelming. He crumpled and slid, hitting the corner with a crash.

Despite the suddenness, Gareth did not flinch.

He had failed to keep the duchess safe, and by military law he was prepared to lose limbs or even his life.

“Should anything happen to you, the duchess will blame herself.”

“…”

“You survived today only because of the duchess. Do not forget that debt.”

“My apologies.”

Gareth rose unsteadily and bowed low.

Edwin looked down at him coldly for a moment, then adjusted his rumpled clothes and walked heavily toward the room where Elicia lay, as if nothing had happened.

* * *

Gareth trudged down the inn stair.

They had originally booked only one floor, but after his lord arrived and the duchess’s true identity was revealed, the innkeeper had handed the entire inn over without argument.

Status was certainly the reason, but the innkeeper also had another motive.

It turned out that the sardine vendor, Gibson, was an old friend of the innkeeper and his wife.

“Are you all right?”

“So-so.”

“Sounds like the whole inn’s about to collapse.”

The attending physician who sat at a table on the first floor asked casually.

Gareth spat out a broken molar instead of answering.

The physician panicked and lectured him, but Gareth felt dazed.

“This needs extraction. Once a tooth breaks it’s not simple. Why do these things to yourself?”

“…”

He had been punished with a single punch for failing his lord’s order.

“Listen, leave it and it’ll fester.”

“Then pull it.”

“Do you think extraction is easy? We need a lot of anesthetic. But the duchess’s treatment is my first duty, so your procedure will have to wait until we fetch supplies from the market. And the tooth is not my specialty, so we’ll have to find a surgeon…”

The nagging went on and on.

Gareth thought it would be simpler to find a barber who could pull the tooth and left the inn.

Finding a barber proved troublesome too.

As he stepped out, townspeople who had been hovering about hesitantly came forward to ask after the duchess.

“Sir, how is the duchess?”

“I heard she lost a lot of blood. Is she safe?”

The rumor mill spread fast, apparently.

Gareth shook his head to say not yet, but because the people looked so worried, he added without thinking, “The physician is doing his best. She should start to improve soon.”

“Is that true?”

“She chose her own doctor. He is one of the best in northern Lombard.”

A touch of pride in the physician’s abilities, but Gareth grumbled inwardly at the fuss.

Then a man stepped forward from the crowd with a familiar face. He was the one who had been set to work in the cave where they had sheltered the townsfolk and who had begged Gareth’s clemency before.

He hesitated, then blurted out, “My lord, I committed a great rudeness to you and the lady before. If you show mercy just once…”

Gareth stared.

He realized belatedly that these people were not from the duke’s domain.

If they were residents of the outer wall region, they would never have begged like this.

He understood then.

The duchess from the capital had come and was changing not only Lombard but the very way people thought.

“Do not worry over nothing.”

“Eh?”

“If any harm comes to you over the cave incident, the next morning my head will be off. The duchess cherishes Lombard’s people above all.”

“Then…”

“I mean it. It’s needless worry.”

Lombard was one of the great northern houses.

The retainers who served Lombard were pretty much from families of similar rank.

Gareth’s own family, the Barken house, was one of them.

They had no reason to mix with the outer-wall commoners. Not because the latter were beneath them, but because in Gareth’s world those people simply did not exist.

At least until now.

‘Has a woman from the capital brought reform to Lombard?’

Gareth had spent his life wielding a sword and knew little of politics.

When others raised voices over political matters he would stare blankly out the window.

Only now did he begin to understand why Berthold, Ramon the administrator, and even his lord guarded the duchess as if she were a priceless treasure.

Because he found himself wanting to do the same.

The mistake in the cave stung.

At that time Gareth had broken protocol, revealing his full skill to protect Elicia.

He had cut through the soldiers who surged in, pushing further inward after the duchess.

But they had been blocked by a narrow fissure, not the large passage he had scouted.

Only women or small children could squeeze through it. Gareth and even the young guides could not.

They had no choice but to exit and circle the mountain via another path.

The delay nearly cost the duchess her life.

‘It is a miracle my lord left me alive.’

He still knew nothing of politics, but he vowed that if given another chance he would protect the duchess even if it cost his arms, his legs, or his heart.

“Where’s the barber?” he asked, determined.