The Proposal and the Imp’s Demise

“How old are you?”Johanna inquired, resting her chin in her hand.After a sip of red wine, Noren sampled a piece of candied fruit. It was exceedingly sweet and sticky, immediately coating her teeth. The very first bite left a fragment lodged deep in the groove of a molar. She prodded it twice with her tongue, but the viscous pulp clung stubbornly to the crevices, refusing to be dislodged. “Just turned eighteen… *cough*, seventeen.”Noren caught herself just in time, a cough stifling her slip of the tongue.“And are you married? Which knight is your husband?”Johanna blinked her beautiful eyes, her curiosity piqued by who might be fortunate enough to wed such a stunning noblewoman, and, in doing so, waste such beauty by allowing her to wander freely.“I am not yet married.”Johanna’s eyes widened with confusion. Meeting the young woman’s gaze, she tilted her head slightly.“Not married?”“That’s right!”“Are you truly seventeen?”“Yes, I am.”“Your… your father hasn’t arranged a betrothal for you?”“My father permits me to choose my own marriage.”Noren spoke truthfully; shieldmaidens possessed the right to govern their own marriages, a long-standing Norse tradition.“Is that so? How wonderful!”Johanna’s face blossomed into a wide smile, as she regarded the young woman with eyes that held the gaze one might give an invaluable treasure.That particular look, so reminiscent of her aunts and elderly relatives from her previous life, made Noren intensely uncomfortable.Johanna felt as though God Himself was blessing her. She had been fretting over her eldest son’s marriage, the search for a suitable bride etching wrinkles around her eyes.While the Osbrück family possessed considerable wealth, it stood to reason that many noble ladies would be eager to marry into Sir Černý’s household. Furthermore, her eldest son, Ryan, was tall, brave, and handsome, making him an excellent prospective husband within the lesser nobility.Yet, oddly enough, there wasn’t a single eligible young woman among the knightly families of Olomouc; they were either mere children of five or six, or older, experienced women who had been married two or three times.Her eldest son was already twenty-two, and betrothing him to a five or six-year-old girl presented too many uncertainties; even in noble families, child mortality rates were significant in the Middle Ages.Should the young girl tragically perish a few years into the betrothal, it would merely waste her son’s precious time.As for marrying those experienced noblewomen… Johanna knew precisely their character, and she certainly didn’t wish for her son to be cuckolded.Thus, her eldest son Ryan’s marriage had remained unsettled.Until today, when she finally discerned God’s will: Ryan’s marriage had been delayed solely to await the arrival of this peerless young woman.“I… how about we take a stroll? Allow me to show you around the Osbrück estate?”Johanna nearly lost control of her emotions, almost directly proposing that Noren marry Ryan. However, she understood that a beauty such as this would surely have no shortage of suitors. Her continued maidenhood, rather than marrying at twelve like most girls, likely stemmed from her exceptionally high standards for a spouse.She resolved to be patient, careful not to create a bad impression before Ryan even had a chance to meet the young woman.“A tour?”Noren took another sip of wine, uncertain of the lady’s intentions, but decided to agree, believing she could adapt to whatever came her way.“I would be honored to explore this beautiful estate.”****Led by the noblewoman, Noren toured the timber-framed estate. It featured a stable, a kitchen, a clean stone-lined well, a spacious flat backyard, and several small wooden cottages for the servants.Upon reaching the backyard, Tolke and his companions were resting by the carriage, having let out a few bear cubs to stretch their legs.“Oh! Those are bear cubs!”Johanna was greatly astonished. She had seen bears before; though there were no signs of brown bear activity around the Morava River, her hometown of Zlín, nestled near the Carpathian Mountains, often saw hungry brown bears descend from the hills to attack villages. She fully understood the immense difficulty of capturing live bear cubs.The cubs were securely tethered by ropes, emitting youthful growls. Yet, upon Tolke producing chunks of meat and berries, they unashamedly began to drool.Noren glanced at the bear cubs, then at Johanna, asking tentatively, “Would you perhaps like to keep one, Madam?”Although Johanna, like most women, had an affinity for fluffy creatures, brown bears were emphatically not among them. She had witnessed their rampages; a dozen men couldn’t control one, and only by slaying it with spears could it be truly subdued.Thus, she shook her head. “Brown bears are untamable beasts. If you fail to feed them, they will find a way to sate their hunger—even if it means devouring their keeper.”Moreover, the Osbrück estate lacked the manpower to control a grown brown bear.“I tend to a garden myself. Would you care to see it?”Johanna smiled, raising a hand to point in a certain direction.Following Johanna’s direction, a pebble-strewn path extended from the side of the yard. Several birch trees cast shade along its edges, creating an atmosphere of profound tranquility and peace.The young woman nodded gently, then followed Johanna toward the garden.After traversing a small, sparse grove of trees, they arrived at a lavender garden. A sea of purple blossoms swayed with the breeze, their intoxicating fragrance wafting through the air. Small insects danced among the petals, instantly lifting one’s spirits.“It’s beautiful.”The young woman couldn’t help but exclaim, crouching down to brush her hand over the clusters of purple petals. She instinctively brought her nose close, her nostrils flaring slightly as the lavender’s aroma filled her senses. Its unique, almost hypnotic scent invoked a wave of drowsiness.“Oh? Is that…”The lavender garden spanned about an acre, and in its very center stood a wooden cross. She wondered why a cross would be erected within a garden.“Merely an ordinary grave.”Johanna’s face remained impassive, as if the tomb’s occupant held no connection to her.Noren suddenly noticed a young man kneeling before the cross—brown-haired, appearing to be fifteen or sixteen, and clad in fine linen attire suitable only for nobility. Earlier, his prostrate form had been hidden by the lavender, but now, as he straightened his upper body, Noren finally spotted him.The young man clasped his hands, gazing up at the cross. Beneath his tranquil expression, a profound piety towards God simmered.Noren cast a questioning glance at Johanna, who replied flatly, “My second son, Igor.”Johanna merely offered the name, providing no further explanation, as if she knew little about this son, or perhaps simply wished not to discuss him.“Miss Noren, let us return. I believe my husband and eldest son will soon be back from their hunt, and I am eager to introduce them to such a distinguished guest.”After averting her gaze from the kneeling young man, Johanna’s mood seemed to lighten, and she offered another affable smile. Noren, no longer focused on him, likewise withdrew her attention.After a comprehensive tour, Noren clearly perceived the estate’s opulence, especially upon discovering the countless bottles of wine stored in its cellar.However, the estate’s defenses were utterly disproportionate to its luxury, consisting of only four male servants, one maid, two gatekeepers, and three patrolling soldiers.Such meager defenses could never withstand even a moderately sized band of brigands. Should a dozen robbers, or a well-coordinated group of horse thieves, arrive, the estate would suffer devastating losses: the cellar’s red wine would be plundered, and the vineyards, lavender garden, and magnificent timber manor would be reduced to ashes in a roaring inferno.A flicker of temptation stirred within Noren; surely, this was her Norse blood at work. She almost saw a grotesque, pus-faced imp fluttering, whispering delirious words into her ear—’Free shopping spree! Free shopping spree! Free shopping spree! Free shopping spree! Free…’“Silence!” the young woman snapped at the green-skinned imp.At the dinner table that evening, Sir Černý’s family froze, startled by her sudden outburst.Ryan, touching his handsome face awkwardly, forced a smile. “I apologize for my presumption, Miss Noren.”Hearing Ryan’s words, the young woman’s attention returned to the dinner table. There, seated neatly at the cloth-draped long table, was Sir Černý’s family of four: Sir Černý and Johanna facing her, while Ryan and Igor, the noble sons, occupied the seats on either side.Regaining her composure, she tapped her forehead with her knuckles. She wondered when she had started becoming so prone to distraction. She only indulged in her ‘beans’ once a week; surely, this wasn’t a case of excessive dissipation?“My apologies, I lost my composure. But Young Master Ryan’s suggestion was truly… truly… too abrupt. I have no plans for marriage at present.”The green-skinned imp that had been whispering temptations to the young woman was now roaring with laughter, mocking a man without a penis being proposed to by another man. It lay on the dinner plate, clutching its belly, rolling around in maniacal mirth, its filthy body staining the blood-red venison with green pus.Noren subtly flicked a glance at the green imp, a vein throbbing briefly on her forehead before vanishing. Then, the blood-red gem nestled within her ‘valley’ emitted a faint crimson glow.A slender thread stealthily emerged from the young woman’s neckline, slithering down her arm like a venomous snake. It meandered silently between the dinner plates, pausing soundlessly behind the wildly laughing, rolling green imp.“Hiss!”With a serpentine strike, the ethereal thread coiled tightly around the imp’s neck. Its eyes bulged, its green skin turning purple from asphyxiation, as its short, stubby fingers scrabbled at its throat, tearing fresh red scratches. Gradually, the thread spread over its entire body.“Pop!”The thread tightened, and under immense shearing force, the imp was uniformly segmented into chunks of flesh. Beneath its green skin lay crimson muscle, with a white spine at the center. Swiftly, the imp’s corpse began to melt, then vaporize, as if it had been nothing more than an illusion.A surge of satisfying vindication swelled within Noren: ‘That’s what you get for running your mouth, you bastard!’Noren—Anomaly (Temporarily Dispelled)Stress -10After the green imp’s demise, Noren’s somewhat muddled mind suddenly felt remarkably clear. The clinking of cutlery in the real world amplified and sharpened in her ears.She looked up at the master of the Osbrück household—Sir Černý.He cleared his throat, then feigned a scolding tone towards his eldest son: “You are too frivolous! A noblewoman is not some country farm wife to be summoned and dismissed at will. You must show proper respect!”“Yes, Father,” Ryan conceded, lowering his head. He then turned to Noren, apologizing, “I extend my sincerest apologies to you once again, Miss Noren.”Noren offered a polite smile in return.Igor, the second son, cast a sidelong glance at his brother from the corner of his eye, then quickly looked away. He picked up a piece of the red meat, which the imp had rolled over, with his dining knife, quietly eating it, completely uninterested in their discussion.Seeing his second son’s demeanor, Černý’s hardened, aged brows furrowed. His tone held a hint of displeasure: “Igor, do you have nothing to say?”Igor looked up at his stern father, then to his brother, who watched him with hopeful expectation. He knew his family was waiting for him to offer a suggestion. While his father understood warfare and his brother possessed raw, courageous strength, neither of them had particularly flexible minds.Simply put, in Igor’s opinion, both his father and brother were fools.“Erm… I heard, Miss Noren, that you wish to sell some goods?”Igor set down his cutlery, his gaze, sharp as a hawk’s, fixed directly on Noren. Since his father’s goal was a marriage alliance and his brother desired a beautiful wife, he saw no reason not to contribute.“That’s correct.”“I presume this might be your first visit to Olomouc?”Noren nodded.“Then you will certainly require some assistance, whether in navigating the correct paths to various places or in mitigating unnecessary troubles during your journey. I believe you might benefit from the companionship of a prospective knight like my brother.”Igor believed a “direct approach” was the most foolish strategy; it would be better to travel together first and cultivate affection.Noren pondered for a moment. She didn’t think such an escort was necessary, but Igor’s subsequent words provided an undeniable reason.“Perhaps you are unaware, but the Bishop of Uničov is my uncle, my father’s brother. Since the goods you wish to sell are primarily fine wines, I imagine you could find no better choice than the Uničov Abbey. Furthermore, along the road to Uničov, there are many nobles allied with our family; the accompaniment of an Osbrück family member would undoubtedly alleviate many unnecessary troubles.”Igor expounded, his logic clear. Although he couldn’t fathom why a noblewoman would debase herself with a merchant’s trade, this did not prevent him from leveraging that crucial point to find a solution.“Hmm…”Noren bit her lower lip. Her innate intuition urged her to refuse, yet with such clear benefits and advantages laid before her, she found herself in a state of indecision.“Please don’t misunderstand; we are merely traveling to Kroměříž to visit our uncle, who serves as Bishop in Uničov. We have no ulterior motives; accompanying you would simply be a matter of convenience.”Igor fabricated another excuse, winking at his brother as he spoke.Ryan failed to grasp the meaning behind his brother’s winks and nudges. His mind, as straightforward as a Morphett’s, always went directly to the point. “Igor, what’s wrong? Did you get sand in your eye?”Igor no longer looked at his hopelessly muscle-brained brother, turning instead to his father, Sir Černý.As a knight who had received a proper military education, Sir Černý had learned combat techniques and understood the crude noble etiquette of the era. His mental capacity was considerable, and alcohol had not yet completely eroded his mind, allowing him to react quickly to his second son’s words.“The wine brewed two years ago at the vineyard should be ready to drink by now,” Sir Černý stated. “It’s also time to send some to your uncle.”Newly brewed wine was rarely consumed immediately; it was typically left to ferment further, only becoming palatable after a year. However, aged vintages with richer flavors were always the preferred choice of nobles, making the excuse of gifting wine entirely reasonable.She took a sip of wine, the aroma bypassing her nasopharynx and rushing directly into her nasal cavity, striking her brain. “As you wish. The road lies before us; I imagine no one can prevent a nephew from visiting his uncle.”Aside from Igor, the other members of the Osbrück family exchanged glances and smiled. Igor once again cut a piece of venison and took a sip of red wine, appearing detached and not sharing in their collective joy.