Shadow Oath

Chapter 39: Trial of Maraka (1)

“...So, the conclusion reached at the chieftains' meeting is that the judgment for Maraka’s trial tomorrow morning will be left to me, and until then, the two of us will share this banquet hall for the night?”

Jedric conveyed all the details from the meeting, and Demion found it absurd.

Ram instinctively observed Charlon’s expression.

She seemed surprised, like Demion, but her emotions didn’t shift dramatically.

Her expression didn’t make her look angry, but it could have been her way of expressing anger.

She didn’t appear embarrassed about the suggestion of sharing a room, but that was also uncertain.

A woman’s expression was difficult to read.

“Stuga, is this true? He’s not just making this up to mess with me, is he?”

Demion asked Ram.

“It is true. The chieftains were concerned about Your Highness’s potential anger and were trying to find a way to ease it.”

“I wasn’t angry before, but now I’m starting to feel it.”

In response to Demion’s words, Jedric spoke in a persuasive tone.

“I’m merely relaying the outcome of the meeting. The decision is yours. But to clarify, sharing a room doesn’t mean you both have to sleep in the same bed. It’s simply about the two of you staying overnight as guests, nothing more.”

“Ikahm isn’t trying to trick me into some scheme, is he?”

“Ikahm is more earnest about these negotiations than anyone else. He’s also anxious.”

Jedric continued speaking slowly.

“You could have demanded more from us. Instead, you accepted our request. You could have raided us, but instead, you promised to protect us from the seven tribes. The elders and chieftains view these negotiations as a tremendous gift and wish to repay you in a way that moves you, the conqueror.”

Jedric pointed at Charlon.

“And in my opinion, the elders may have already approved simply by seeing that Prince Demion brought a ‘woman’ with him.”

“Approved? What do you mean by that?”

Charlon asked.

“The presence of a lady wasn’t part of the negotiation process.”

Jedric spoke, casting his gaze toward General Terrdin, who had remained silent so far.

“That’s something the general can explain.”

General Terrdin was still seated in the center of the grand banquet hall, near the dwindling fire.

The fire had grown weaker, but no additional firewood was added.

Under normal circumstances, the fire would be extinguished, and preparations to leave would begin, leaving no reason to stoke the flames.

Ram, seeing Terrdin sitting with his arms crossed and eyes closed, unconsciously thought of thirty different ways to kill him.

Then he tried hard to erase and discard those thoughts.

Terrdin stroked his chin as he spoke.

“Just as Jedric said, we didn’t mention the prince bringing a wife or fiancée to this banquet. At that time, it seemed natural. But the prince brought her along, and the Gerans appear to have interpreted it a bit broadly…”

“Should I not have brought Lady Charlon with me?”

“That’s not the case, Your Highness.”

Terrdin glanced around the banquet hall for confirmation.

Inside were ten knights stationed at each corner, while the remaining knights guarded the exterior.

Not a single Geran remained within the building.

The hall was quiet enough that the sound of the firewood burning stood out.

Even the northern wind was unusually absent, amplifying the silence.

“First, let’s all take a seat.”

Terrdin gestured to the seats prepared by the fire.

Demion let Charlon sit first and then took his seat beside her.

Ram stood behind Terrdin.

At that moment, Kura’s words echoed in his mind.

‘…You may take responsibility for failing to protect the Grand General, but there will be no suspicion that you killed him.’

Terrdin, now leaning closer to the ‘three young ones,’ looked at Jedric before asking,

“What do the Gerans think about the prince bringing a lady?”

“It was a good decision. If you had sought my advice, I would’ve told you to bring her. We consider it the utmost courtesy for someone of high status to bring their wife as a guest.”

“Wife?! We’re not even…”

Demion quickly glanced at Charlon and continued,

“…Technically, we haven’t even held an engagement ceremony yet.”

“We don’t have a concept of engagement. If a man brings a woman to an event like this, she’s considered his wife. The formalities can follow later.”

“Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I’ll adhere to Geran customs! In the south, men don’t share a bed with a woman unless they’re married!”

Demion spoke stubbornly.

‘Not necessarily true, is it…?’

Ram thought to himself.

Terrdin calmly interjected.

“They’re not asking you to be seen entering a bed together. Simply staying overnight in this large banquet hall should suffice. If nothing happens between you two, then it shouldn’t be an issue, should it?”

“General! I’m concerned about Lady Charlon’s safety and comfort!”

“For security, ten knights will be stationed inside the banquet hall and another ten outside. The entire village is essentially under our soldiers’ control. Jedric, what’s your opinion?”

Jedric responded as though the answer was obvious.

“The woman’s will is what matters most.”

Finally, Demion turned to Charlon.

“What do you think, Charlon?”

Having listened in silence until now, Charlon responded immediately when the prince asked.

“I didn’t come to the north unprepared. Serving the man who will govern this land as his wife means there’s no reason to feel discomfort staying in this house. I do feel a bit sorry for my brother, Ruseph, who’s busy setting up the barracks, but I don’t imagine they’ll be more comfortable than here. The beds here…how are they?”

Jedric nodded and replied.

“The bed in this banquet hall is, to us, equivalent to the king’s bed.

It is covered with the finest cloth, leather, and wool blankets.

It can’t be compared to the makeshift ones in the barracks.”

Charlon placed her hand on Demion’s and spoke.

“That’s good.

If they take this well, I’ll stay here.”

“If Charlon is okay with it, then I will accept it too.”

Demion said.

Terrdin clapped briefly and stood up.

“Then it’s settled.

I will personally discuss the details with Ikahm, including the issue of Hak Maraka’s trial, Your Highness.

Afterward, I’ll stay near this banquet hall as my lodging.

And Shadow—no, Stuga—I hope you’ll stay here as well.”

Ram flinched and asked in surprise.

“But I am the general’s shadow.”

“Haven’t you essentially been the prince’s shadow for the past week?”

“Wouldn’t my presence here, where it’s meant to be a private space for the two of them, make things uncomfortable…?”

Terrdin interrupted Ram’s words to ask.

“What do you two think?”

Demion mimicked Jedric’s earlier tone.

“In such matters, Charlon’s opinion is what’s important.

What do you think?”

Ram thought Charlon would decline.

Surely, she wouldn’t want someone unfamiliar, not even a female guard, to stay by her side throughout the night.

“I’m fine with it.”

Charlon said.

She even smiled at Ram, a surprising choice that Demion accepted without hesitation.

“Then I’m fine with it too.

Stuga, stay here.”

Ram was about to decline again but changed his mind.

It might be better to stay by the two of them through the night, away from Terrdin.

He could avoid following that cursed prophecy from the mage!

“Understood.”

As Ram accepted the order, a lingering problem came to mind.

At his waist was still Maraka’s dagger.

He couldn’t stay near the two of them while carrying a cursed blade.

‘I need to deal with this somehow.’

“Absolutely not!”

Not long after Terrdin left, Charlon’s nanny, Oedel, burst through the doors of the grand banquet hall, shouting.

“No! Absolutely not!”

Ram thought the elderly woman’s scolding voice was as fierce as a Geran warrior’s battle cry.

“It’s already decided, Oedel.”

Charlon openly showed her annoyance as Oedel stormed toward her, speaking firmly and resolutely as the older woman approached.

“Both Chieftain Ikahm and General Terrdin have agreed, so there’s no going back.”

“That’s irrelevant. I object.

You must hurry to where Master Ruseph is…”

“Oedel!”

Charlon cut her off, raising her voice.

“This is where the prince is.

Show some respect. What do you mean by ‘irrelevant’?”

Oedel, only then noticing the prince standing behind Charlon, gave a half-hearted bow of acknowledgment but didn’t back down.

“I don’t know what agreements were made with the barbarian chieftain and others.

But one thing I know for certain is that a noblewoman like you shouldn’t stay in a barbarian’s house!”

“Don’t call them barbarians.

This land will soon be ruled by the prince, and those you call barbarians will become his subjects.”

Charlon stood her ground.

Oedel resorted to a threatening tone.

“Then I’ll go and inform Master Ruseph immediately.”

“Thank you. I needed someone to inform him.”

Oedel left, stomping her feet with a face full of anger and humiliation.

She didn’t even bother to bow again.

Charlon, embarrassed, apologized.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.

I didn’t want to bring her, but Ruseph insisted on her accompanying me.”

“There’s no need to worry.

I’ve grown used to hearing complaints from attendants who follow royal women.”

“What sort of complaints do royal women hear?”

“The same ones, I suppose.

‘Stand properly,’ ‘maintain a proper posture,’ ‘speak in a certain way,’ and so on.

They’d even go on about women’s duties.

It was exhausting just listening to it.”

“And what are women’s duties?”

“There were so many that I couldn’t even remember them all.

I thought I should read up on them, so I asked which texts they were from, but they didn’t know either.”

Charlon chuckled softly, and Demion smiled warmly.

Then Charlon’s gaze naturally turned to Jedric.

“What are women’s duties to the Gerans?”

“Hm, I’ve never really thought about that…”

Jedric answered nonchalantly, clearly avoiding Charlon’s gaze on purpose.

“To protect the family.

To guard the home when the husband is away and, if necessary, to go to war in his place.

If I had to put it into words, those would be women’s duties.”

Ram had seen Geran women on battlefields, clad in the same armor and wielding the same weapons as men.

He didn’t want to fight them, but when he did, he had no choice but to kill.

“They must also maintain chastity.

If a man approaches without the husband’s consent, she can kill him without consequence.

If her husband dies, she takes on his role.

Thus, if her children and husband are killed, the mother can slaughter the enemy’s entire family in a frenzy and still be forgiven.”

“That’s strange.

Then what about a husband whose wife and children are killed?”

Demion asked.

“That would need to be judged at trial.”

Jedric answered as if it were obvious.

“Why does it work like that?”

“It’s so obvious, I’m not even sure how to explain.”

Demion opened his mouth as if to speak but didn’t know what to ask.

Charlon asked with curiosity in her voice.

“Come to think of it, why am I the only woman in the banquet hall?

Even the attendants were all men.

I thought serving food was a task for female attendants, but is it only done by men here?”

“No one of low rank is allowed to enter here.”

Before he realized it, Jedric was locking eyes with Charlon as he explained.

“Women of high rank handle cooking.

We can’t let just anyone prepare the prince’s food.

That leaves only men of high enough rank to carry it.”

“Why didn’t you or Ikahm’s mother appear?

Wouldn’t it be proper to greet the prince and show courtesy?”

“She cannot meet the man who killed her husband.

It’s not so much about vengeance; it’s simply the custom.”

“Does that tie into what you mentioned earlier?

That a wife is forgiven if she kills her husband’s murderer?”

“Exactly.

Would the prince be able to eat and drink comfortably in front of someone who could kill him and still be forgiven?”

Demion cleared his throat awkwardly.

Charlon continued with her questions.

“I noticed symbols on the columns of the banquet hall.

They’re unique characters. What do they mean?”

“They’re symbols to ward off evil spirits.

There’s a superstition that corpses rise at night to seek out those who killed them.”

“If he’s a king, there must be many corpses after him, so he’d need a lot of symbols like these.

It’s fascinating.”

“Is it really?

Your culture has similar charms, doesn’t it?”

“Of course we do.

For instance…”

Charlon began explaining the culture of Boron with a delighted expression.

Demion, sitting between them, glanced at the two sideways.

‘If this were Lord Selkon, he wouldn’t let his wife talk so casually with another man like this.

Is it because they’re not married yet, or is the prince simply tolerant?’

Amid the lively conversation, Ram sensed an unsettling tension.

While guarding Demion, he had often noticed the prince’s feelings toward Charlon.

But strangely, he didn’t sense the same emotions coming from Charlon toward Demion.

Ram assumed it was simply because he couldn’t read women’s emotions.

But that wasn’t it.

Charlon’s emotions were clearly visible when she interacted with Jedric.

‘That’s impossible.

Charlon and Jedric have only recently met, and they’re not in any relationship where love could bloom.

One is a barbarian man from the north, and the other is a lady from the south.

Anyone would think such a pairing is unthinkable.’

Even Jedric was looking at Charlon with warmth in his eyes.

Ram almost wished they’d go back to fighting like they had at the start of the banquet.

This felt like a prelude to something going terribly wrong.

“Excuse me, I have something to say to the three of you.”

Ram deliberately interrupted their conversation, also cutting off something Demion was about to say.

It was an unthinkable breach of etiquette.

For a servant to interrupt a conversation between nobles!

In truth, Ram had been carefully timing when to speak.

After Terrdin left?

After Oedel left?

After Charlon’s barrage of questions ended?

He waited and waited, then suddenly cut in now.

But as silence fell and the three stopped talking, Ram realized something.

There had been plenty of quiet moments to speak.

Right after Terrdin left, right after Oedel left, and even during Demion’s silent confusion after noticing Charlon’s affectionate gaze.

Yet Ram hadn’t taken those opportunities.

He didn’t want to bring this matter up.

He had hoped to let it quietly pass.

But that wasn’t possible.

When Kura said he would acquire the barbarian’s blade, Ram had thought, ‘As long as I don’t touch the blade, it’ll be fine.’

But now, he held the blade.

He thought it would be impossible for Terrdin to ever be alone, yet now the general had gone off somewhere by himself.

Even now, he could follow Terrdin, saying he had something to discuss, and kill him without interference.

Ram feared that if he let things proceed as they were, he’d end up carrying out Kura’s prophecy and executing the royal command.

That fear compelled him to stop their conversation.

He knew it was an unthinkable rudeness, but he had no other choice.

Ram felt momentarily suffocated under the simultaneous gazes of Jedric, Charlon, and Demion.

But he soon drew the dagger from his waist, holding it flat in his palm so its blade was visible.

“I have something to say about this blade.

It’s urgent, so I interrupted your conversation.

I apologize.”

“What is that blade?”

Demion asked.

“It is Hak Maraka’s dagger.”