The Bitter Invitation and the Old Knight’s Faith

I felt a sudden jolt after realizing I was thinking it was a “relief” those men had died. To think it was a relief that people were dead—no matter how much one’s personal moral compass tends to lean toward self-interest, I felt a sense of self-alienation. However, the sympathy that had remained like a buried thorn vanished under a surging headache. Rubbing my throbbing head against Cale’s chest, I figured it didn’t matter. If they hadn’t died, I might have been the one beaten to death. The Crown Prince and those thugs were the same in their intent to kill me. I chose to face reality rather than dwell on pity. Because they were dead and the witnesses were gone, the fact that the Crown Prince had tried to kill me remained buried.

I couldn’t think of a plausible excuse for how I escaped that place, so I simply faked dizziness and claimed my memory was fuzzy. I added, as if remembering late, that someone had dropped me off, but I hadn’t seen their face in my delirious state. Cale and Leo seemed to be investigating this “stranger,” but since no one had seen the Crown Prince or Kisyar Tesa, they wouldn’t find much.

I had been sleepy just a moment ago, but lying still, my mind became crystal clear. Judging by the light filtering through the curtains, it wasn’t night. I lay back down as Cale settled me. The eldest brother pulled the blanket up to my neck, then lowered it to my chest. I closed my eyes as his hand rhythmically patted me.

A guest arrived. Since Elliot had left with his mother to inspect the southern ports, it was my first visitor in a while.

I might have been more purely happy to see them if the person hadn’t been Edward Spellman. It wasn’t intentional, but since our last lesson ended on such a bad note, I felt embarrassed to face him.

There were too many people in the castle who would panic if I said I was going to the capital, so I couldn’t move—and honestly, I didn’t want to go there myself. I had procrastinated, using the excuse that sending just a letter seemed insincere, until I finally sent a message along with a gift three days ago. Since there was no reply, I assumed he was deeply offended, so I never expected him to visit in person.

“Your face has thinned out quite a bit.”

“Has it?”

I touched my face. Llewellyn was young, and lately, I had been eating and sleeping excessively well. Because I looked like I was at death’s door every time I saw thin soup, they had started serving me meat since last week. Eating hearty meals made me crave sweets, and after coaxing Abel, I easily secured desserts as well.

Thanks to that, if anything, I had gained weight; I certainly didn’t have the complexion of a dying man. The skin against my palm felt soft and supple rather than haggard.

“I apologize for not contacting you sooner.”

“It is only natural for a child to be disoriented while ill. I am glad you were not gravely injured.”

Surprisingly, Spellman didn’t seem that angry. He was famous for his rigidness, and given the Spellman family tradition where children leave home in their early teens and cannot return until they achieve something noteworthy, I expected him to lecture me about a “weak spirit” even if I was sick. Had he not sent his own beloved daughters out without exception? The story of his eldest daughter, Deborah Spellman, becoming the Colosseum champion at sixteen was a famous anecdote known even by those who didn’t hold a sword.

Yet, Edward Spellman didn’t treat me sternly; instead, he said it was enough that I was alright. I wondered—was it because he no longer considered us master and disciple, and thus felt such comments would be overstepping?

Even though I couldn’t continue the lessons now, thinking that made me feel a bit lonely.

“A gift for your recovery.”

Spellman handed over a wrapped box. I slowly unwrapped it. Being a knight who lived for the sword, I expected a blade, armor, supplements, or perhaps an artifact. Surprisingly, the box was filled with candies.

Did he accidentally bring something meant for his grandchildren? I scanned the old knight’s expression. His face was calm. He didn’t look like someone who had brought the wrong gift by mistake.

“They say these candies are from Girtea.”

I picked one up. The luxurious wrapper barely made a crinkle. The brilliantly colored candy was quite large and transparent; as I moved it, the liquid filling inside sloshed and tilted.

I placed it carefully in my mouth, and a refreshing flavor bloomed. As I rolled it around and poked the thinning shell with my tongue, it burst, flooding my mouth with liquid. It was so sweet that even after swallowing, the tip of my tongue felt tingly. When I stared at Spellman in a daze, his beard twitched. He looked proud. He had every right to be. I had tasted all sorts of expensive and exotic things, but I had never eaten anything as delicious as this.

Blinking in shock like someone tasting sugar for the first time, I carefully closed the box. I didn’t want to lose my mind and finish them all in one sitting. I wanted to eat them slowly, savoring them at their best.

“It seems you like them.”

“Yes… Did you say they’re from Girtea? Do you know which shop they’re from?”

“Hmm, I received them as a gift myself, so I am not entirely sure.”

It didn’t matter. A flavor like this couldn’t be unknown; I’d find it if I scoured the famous shops there.

Spellman then pulled something from his coat. I, who had been happily stroking the box, froze. The seal on the thin envelope was the Imperial Crest.

“I know your brothers cherish you, but sometimes overprotectiveness can become a poison.”

“……”

“Among the letters you received recently, was there one from the Imperial Family?”

There wasn’t. I never imagined they would go as far as intercepting letters and defying an Imperial order. As I bit the inside of my lip, Spellman pushed the envelope closer to me.

“Even if you refuse, you should be the one to see it and decide.”

Spellman clicked his tongue. I couldn’t argue.

With a heavy heart, I opened the envelope. The paper inside was firm and thick. The moment I touched it, I knew. Half of me didn’t want to check, while the other half wanted to get it over with quickly since it was unavoidable.

[…I was worried to hear you were hurt. Your brother says you are recuperating at the castle because recovery is difficult, and I wonder if I am bothering you by making you move. I have prepared a garden and wish to invite you to share its beauty…]

I recoiled in disgust before even finishing the elegant script. As expected, it was an invitation, and unsurprisingly, it bore the Crown Prince’s signature. Does this bastard not have a conscience?

“If I refuse, will there be trouble?”

Spellman remained silent at my question. It was an affirmation.

“They cannot do much if you say your health is poor.”

I could delay it, but eventually, I would have to go. I scratched at the Crown Prince’s signature with my fingernail as if I could erase it that way. But doing so changed nothing. Feeling petty, I shoved the invitation back into the envelope.

“I shall report that I saw you in person, and your complexion looked poor and your condition seemed to have worsened.”

Spellman’s face didn’t look great either. It couldn’t be pleasant to tell a much younger former student that the Crown Prince is calling and that he cannot refuse.

“I will send a separate reply.”

An awkward silence followed, broken by a dry cough. Spellman set down his tea and stood up.

“Rest well, and contact me when you feel better. If you don’t move for too long, your body will stiffen.”

“Pardon?”

I asked back in surprise, but Edward Spellman scolded me as if my reaction was the strange one.

“Why the shocked face? We have lessons to do.”

Well, because I thought the relationship between the Count and the Knight was over.

“It turns out the castle’s training grounds are more usable than I expected. Since I have nothing to do in the capital anyway, I might as well stay here for a bit. The Count is generous, so he won’t mind the cost of that much hospitality.”

He even spoke up first, perhaps sensing how much I loathed going to the Imperial Palace. Embarrassed, I poked my palm with my fingernails.

“I thought you would be furious and say, ‘You spineless brat! Quit at once!’”

“Who are you trying to turn into a petty old man?”

Spellman frowned deeply and asked, “Surely you didn’t intend to let it end so vaguely? I do not enter into teacher-student relationships lightly.”

“I thought you only accepted because the Crown Prince asked you to.”

“Had that been the case, I would have followed His Majesty’s orders and taught the others as well.”

Thinking about it, he was right. As I stood there speechless and fumbling, the old knight spoke with a dignified face.

“I have taught you this far because I found your talent worthwhile. You may seek another master if you wish, but I believe you possess a sufficiently fine quality.”

Comparing myself to Leo, who had been called a genius since childhood, or my fellow student, the Crown Prince, I had no confidence in myself. But hearing the Empire’s greatest knight say that made me feel bashful. The belief that he wouldn’t lie clashed with the despair that it might just be a hollow compliment to soothe a child.

“Where are we going?”

“He is at the Seliase Palace.”

After Spellman left, I immediately sent a reply accepting the invitation. The Crown Prince set the date right away.

My family, of course, went into a frenzy. I had made a firm resolution before shaking them off and coming here, but standing in the Imperial Palace for the first time in a while, my resolve wavered. Perhaps due to nerves, my palms were sweaty. I wanted to turn around and run away even now.