Sigrid

Beramund paid for the sword with a promissory note. Given the impeccable credit of the Lunatil ducal family, the shop owner accepted it respectfully. Beramund handed the sword to Sigrid. With the shop owner’s enthusiastic “Have a great day!” behind them, they stepped out onto the street, and he asked:

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, I absolutely love it. I’ll cherish it for life. Thank you!”

Sigrid beamed, hugging the sword tightly. Her crimson eyes sparkled as if lit from within.

‘So it’s the sword over the dress, huh?’

And not even a pretty sword at that. A thoroughly practical item.

With her cheeks flushed, Sigrid kept sneaking glances at the sword handle and blade before sheathing it again, looking like a girl who’d just received her first ball gown.

Beramund said:

“Shall we go then?”

“Huh? Where to?”

Sigrid actually wanted to go straight home. She wanted to return home and swing her new sword to her heart’s content. Beramund smiled and said:

“Don’t you want to test out the sword? My house is nearby. How about a sparring match?”

“I’d love to!”

Sigrid’s response was so enthusiastic she almost jumped, making Beramund laugh again.

“Ah, if only inviting women to my home was always this easy.”

He joked and whistled sharply to hail a nearby public carriage. As they climbed in, Sigrid finally asked:

“By the way, what brings you here, Beramund?”

“A date.”

“Without a carriage?”

“Is that what you’re asking about? I’m hurt that you’re not jealous.”

“Is there a reason to be jealous?”

“Ouch, that’s quite a blow too… I’m joking. What date? I was hanging out with some guys and escaped.”

Beramund lightly tapped the lion-shaped brooch on his cape, the emblem of the Imperial Guard.

“Was there an Imperial Guard gathering?”

“Yes.”

Seeing Sigrid looking at the brooch, Beramund leaned his arm against the window and smiled.

“It’s not too late, you know? The door is wide open.”

“I—”

Sigrid pondered what to say. She always stumbled when trying to share her inner thoughts. It was an area she was thoroughly uncomfortable with.

As Beramund tilted his head, encouraging her to speak, she gathered her courage and continued:

“I wanted to become an excellent knight. No, I still want to become one. But no one ever showed me how, and I thought if I followed all the rules, I would become one.”

Later, even rules became unnecessary.

Just one person. The words of her lord became the law, the rules, and all the guidelines for her life.

‘But…’

She failed.

It’s fair to call it a failure, no, it is a failure.

“Why did you want to become a knight?”

At Beramund’s question, Sigrid looked up.

Right eye blue, left eye red.

She used to think it was a grotesque mutation, but looking without prejudice, it seemed rather beautiful. Sigrid furrowed her brow.

‘Why?’

Why did she want to become a knight?

“I… don’t remember well.”

Although it shouldn’t have been that long ago, her memories from the orphanage were hazy. The carriage came to a stop in front of the ducal mansion. As Beramund got out, he said:

“Isn’t ‘excellent knight’ too abstract? I think you should consider more about what you actually want to do.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

Sigrid nodded. Despite being in the capital, the ducal estate boasted a considerable garden. It was spacious enough to host an outdoor party without issue.

Beramund strode confidently through the garden, with Sigrid following behind. The grandeur of the mansion visible beyond the garden was also impressive.

“Your house is big.”

“It is. But the countryside mansion is even bigger. The estate mansion— is even larger.”

“The current Duke…”

“Ah— my older brother is at the estate, so the capital mansion is usually empty. I normally stay at the place you visited before— my house. But I came here specifically because—”

Beramund grinned and pointed to a training ground.

“There’s a sparring area here.”

“Ah—”

It felt like arriving at the knights’ backyard.

‘No, this is far more luxurious than the knights’ quarters.’

Sigrid marveled at the stone-paved floor of the training ground, covered with thick carpets. It was an extravagant use of carpets expensive enough for indoor use.

On one side, benches were set up for resting, with weapon racks beside them. Beramund unfastened his cape and hung it on the rack.

Sigrid placed her original broken sword on the bench next to it. After a light warm-up, she stepped onto the training ground. The carpet made the footing subtly soft.

“Why is there carpet?”

“To prevent serious injuries if someone falls.”

“I see.”

Sigrid nodded, pushing the carpet with her foot a few times.

‘It’s a bit slippery.’

As Beramund stepped onto the opposite side of the training ground, Sigrid straightened her back. A tingling sensation of tension ran through her. Beramund chided:

“Don’t smile like that.”

“Pardon?”

Surprised, Sigrid asked, and Beramund grumbled as he drew his sword, tossing the scabbard aside:

“Like you’re going to eat me alive. Of course, in bed that would be fine— ahem, no, um, I misspoke. Anyway.”

Sigrid touched her face.

‘Did I make such an expression?’

She hadn’t even realized she was smiling. Sigrid drew her sword respectfully. They raised their swords, exchanged light bows, and immediately began swinging.

A resonating hum-like sound came from the vibrating swords.

Sigrid stared at Beramund’s sword, completely enveloped in pitch-black Aura. Across from her, his eyes smiled.

‘You’re the one smiling.’

Grumbling inwardly, she began clashing swords.

“Tch”

Clicking her tongue, Sigrid started minimizing direct collisions. Her Aura quantity was less than Beramund’s. The swords nearly touched, clashed, slid, and rebounded—

Their spinning footwork began to move rapidly.

Only the sound of clashing swords echoed through the training ground.

Kee-kee-kee-kick—

A strange sound emerged as the blades met and pressed against each other. Crimson and ink-black Aura, like different types of flames, emitted light. Beramund thought as he looked at Sigrid’s eyes, rippling with Aura light:

‘That’s why I told you not to smile like that—’

In an instant, he suddenly withdrew his strength, and Sigrid’s sword headed straight for his neck. But before that, Beramund kicked Sigrid.

Being much lighter than Beramund, Sigrid was thrown to the edge of the training ground as if flying.

Sigrid sprang to her feet, but Beramund’s sword was already at her throat. She said with a blank face:

“Isn’t this supposed to be a sword match?”

“It’s realistic, realistic. Are you okay?”

“……”

Sigrid got up, brushing off her clothes. Rather than a kick, it was more like Beramund had pushed her stomach, so the impact wasn’t too severe.

Except for the burning competitive spirit.

“Realistic, you say? Let’s go another round. Realistically.”

At her words, spoken through gritted teeth, Beramund nodded.

“Bring it on.”

Suddenly, the hair on his arms stood on end with a tingling sensation. Beramund said, “Oh?”

“Wait, when I said realistic, I didn’t mean actually trying to kill—”

Before he could finish speaking, Sigrid’s sword thrust in, and Beramund hastily stepped back.

‘So in a practice match, you were hiding your killing intent, huh?’

Well, well.

Beramund realized he needed to completely reassess his preconceptions about Sigrid. He clearly understood that he shouldn’t treat her like an ordinary female knight.

Their exchange of attacks and defenses was fast.

30, 40, 50, 60—

Just listening to the sound of clashing swords, one might think it was a single person striking swords together at that speed.

‘An opening!’

As Beramund swung his sword, Sigrid raised her left arm. Beramund could see that she had wrapped Aura around her left arm. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to strike there. His sword hesitated for a moment, and in that instant, Sigrid brought her sword to his side.

“You—!”

Exasperated, Beramund grabbed Sigrid’s left arm and lifted it. Seeing her triumphant expression underneath, he couldn’t even get angry.

“I win.”

“What kind of move was that?”

“Guarding with my left arm, of course?”

“Is Aura alone enough? Just in case I need to remind you, I’m an Aura user too. If I had infused my sword with Aura and swung, there’s no guarantee your arm would have remained intact.”

“It’s realistic, isn’t it? Realistic.”

Hearing his own words thrown back at him, Beramund was dumbfounded. He lifted her left arm that he was holding, and Sigrid followed with an “Uh-oh,” her toes leaving the ground.

“Wait, Beramund? What are you doing?”

Although having all her weight on one arm wasn’t painful due to frequent training, being dangled like this was a bit insulting to her pride.

As Sigrid flailed her legs in the air, Beramund set her down with a thud and sighed.

“Two more realistic matches with you, and my heart might give out. What if I had actually severed your arm?”

“It would have been an accident, so nothing could be done.”

“And what about me, who would have cut off your arm?”

At those words, Sigrid hesitated, and Beramund looked at her. Seeing his serious face, she became flustered.

“Since it’s an accident—”

“Are you saying I should just let it go?”

“Well…”

“Conversely, what if you had cut off my arm?”

Sigrid flinched. Her gaze shifted to Beramund’s left arm. After a moment, her face turned pale.

‘At least she’s shocked by the thought of cutting off my arm.’

Beramund inwardly swallowed a sigh and flicked her forehead.

“Will you be careful, or not?”

“I will.”

As Sigrid answered, rubbing her forehead, he nodded and said, “Good.”

“Shall we go once more?”

At his question, Sigrid looked up and grinned.

⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱⊰⋆⋅⭑⋅⋆⊱

Sigrid tried to steady her breathing. Sweat dripped down her chin. Beramund exhaled with a “Phew—” and said:

“It’s been a while since I’ve moved around this much.”

Sigrid glared at Beramund, and he laughed.

“It can’t be helped. You’re smaller than me, so you have to move more. You make up for the strength difference with Aura, but I still have more Aura. Even so, the fact that the win-loss ratio was quite close—”

Beramund sat down in front of the seated Sigrid and asked:

“How do you know?”

“Know what?”

“My habits.”

Sigrid flinched. Beramund’s eyes narrowed.

“I thought it was strange, but how do you know my sword-handling style so well? Our Lady Sigrid Ankertna? You even know my eyes are good, so you try to deceive me by adjusting your Aura quantity…”

“That… I’m sorry. I can’t tell you.”

Beramund briefly turned his gaze to empty space. His eyes returned to Sigrid.

“Are you connected to the Western Nobles Alliance?”

“No.”

“What about His Majesty the Emperor?”

“In a way, maybe yes, in a way, maybe no…”

After pondering, Sigrid shook her head.

“Currently, I have no connection at all.”

“Then in the past?”

“In the past as well.”

She smiled bitterly. Was that the past? Or the future?

“Any relations with other noble factions?”

“None. This is purely my own issue.”

“I see.”

Beramund stood up, stretching his knees. Sigrid grasped the hand he extended, and Beramund effortlessly pulled her to her feet.

“Go wash up.”

Beramund gestured towards the mansion with his head and started walking. Sigrid thought about declining, but her clothes were so drenched in sweat that she followed him.

‘It’s luxurious, but—’

Sigrid glanced around the interior of the ducal mansion. Though luxurious, it felt completely different from the Imperial Palace. While the palace exuded majesty, solemnity, and the epitome of luxury, the ducal residence was comparatively modest. Each item seemed simple in design, but the materials and craftsmanship appeared expensive.

‘Moreover, the staff isn’t stiff either.’

Beramund easily greeted the maids and servants, and they returned his greetings with bright smiles. Overall, the mansion had a lively atmosphere.

With a sense of wonder, Sigrid followed the guidance to the bathhouse. She carefully removed her clothes, hesitated for a moment, then undid her hair before entering the bath.

“Aah~~”

As she entered the hot water, a sigh of contentment escaped her lips. While she was leisurely enjoying her bath, there was a knock, and the door opened as maids entered.

“What’s the matter?”

Startled, Sigrid asked while covering herself. The maids politely replied:

“We’re here to attend to you.”

“What?”

The maids smiled gently at the confused Sigrid and rolled up their sleeves. Sigrid, who had only known of the existence of bath attendants, followed their instructions with stiff movements.

The massage was enjoyable, but otherwise, it was far more exhausting than bathing alone.

After the maids finished bathing her and helped her into a robe, they led her outside where other maids were waiting.

They fanned Sigrid’s long hair to dry it, applied fragrant oils, and helped her dress.

“Huh?”

Sigrid was surprised to see the clothes the maid brought.

“Ah, um, those clothes are what I gave to Lord Lunatil…”