Chapter 30

“Your left is open!”

With the shouted warning, a sword sliced in from the left. Rezion deflected Marek’s strike with a smooth parry. The knight, undeterred, regained his stance and aimed again, this time for the inside of Rezion’s thigh. A known vulnerability when wearing armor.

Knights were trained to instinctively guard such critical weak points. But Rezion was not a professional soldier who trained daily in full armor.

He tried to block it with an awkward posture, but Marek’s strike was precise, threading through like a needle through cloth. The wooden sword tapped lightly against the inside of his thigh.

Rezion raised both hands without hesitation.

“Surrender.”

Marek lowered his sword. He looked Rezion over carefully, checking to make sure he hadn’t left so much as a scratch. Only once satisfied did he signal to the attendant, who rushed over with a clean towel. Rezion took it and wiped the sweat beading across his brow.

“My skills have deteriorated.”

“You’re still better than most knights, Your Majesty. It’s only that you’re not accustomed to guarding your weak points in armor.”

Rezion clicked his tongue.

“Then shouldn’t I be training in armor?”

“There won’t be a situation where Your Majesty needs to defend those weak points.”

Marek wasn’t wrong. It was highly unlikely Rezion would ever have to face someone intent on killing him in a real duel. His swordsmanship was, and always had been, a gentleman’s art. A means of fitness and refined discipline.

Still, it stung a little to know that a skill he’d been honing since before he could reason might never be used in earnest.

As he handed the heavy wooden sword back to the attendant, Rezion murmured,

“You never know. I might have to fight a duel for a lady’s honor someday.”

“Then you’d appoint a second, of course.”

“And that second would be you?”

“If honored with such a task, I would not disappoint.”

Rezion let out a quiet laugh at the light jest. After a good round of training, the heaviness in his limbs felt just a little lighter.

He exited the training grounds, intent on changing his sweat-soaked shirt, only to find an unexpected figure waiting for him.

“Greetings, Your Majesty.”

“What brings you here, Aunt?”

Rezion had already been informed the previous day that the House of Ervinzel had arrived at Oakhall. The report also included news that, thanks to Ellaris’s persuasion, Elphenlira had agreed to attend the Founding Day ball. Though she had refused to appear at the welcoming dinner held in House Ervinzel ‘s honor, it was still a major triumph.

“I’m embarrassed to appear before you like this,” Rezion said, gesturing toward his sweat-soaked shirt.

“I won’t take up much of your time. But I need to inform you of something important.”

“If it’s about Lira attending the Founding Day ball, I’ve already received word.”

“This won’t have been in any official report,” she said.

Rezion tilted his head slightly, curious. With a grave expression, Ellaris shared something he hadn’t expected.

“Miss Dianne will also be attending the ball.”

He blinked in mild surprise, but that was all. Rezion simply shrugged.

“That’s good, isn’t it? One more pair of eyes to keep watch on Lira. The more the better.”

“Your Majesty, do you really not see what’s happening here?”

Ellaris’s voice was tinged with exasperation.

“Miss Dianne is in a difficult position. One that the princess deliberately placed her in.”

“Does Miss Ortenza dislike dancing?”

If so, he could sympathize. He wasn’t fond of it either.

Ellaris clicked her tongue, clearly unimpressed. Rezion felt, rather suddenly, like a failing student in front of a disapproving tutor.

In the patient tone of a patient teacher, Ellaris carefully explained the “predicament” Dianne was facing. Rezion listened attentively, face growing serious, but by the end, he couldn’t help but respond in disbelief.

“You’re telling me that’s a real problem?”

“Your Majesty. After everything you’ve seen of Miss Dianne, you still say that?”

Rezion truly didn’t understand. From what he had observed, Dianne didn’t seem like someone who would be flustered by such a thing. She always carried herself with confidence and grace.

Ellaris spoke firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Every lady wears a kind of armor, Your Majesty.”

“Then wouldn’t it be best if you helped her, Aunt?”

“Miss Dianne hates being indebted. She won’t ask me for help, nor would she accept it even if I offered. What she needs is someone she can’t refuse.”

“…I see. So, we just need to solve those two issues, then?”

He didn’t fully understand it, but if Elphenlira had backed Dianne into a corner, then it was only right that he be the one to get her out of it.

Rezion gestured for Marek, who had been standing at a distance to avoid intruding on their conversation.

Once the situation was explained, Marek gave a quiet, understanding nod.

“I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? If you already had other plans…”

“I hadn’t planned to attend, actually. I thought my presence might make Her Highness uncomfortable.”

“Well, Lira needs to grow used to it. She can’t go on seeing Edric every time she looks at you.”

Above all, a lady was in distress, and he couldn’t very well stand by and do nothing.

Satisfied with the answer she’d come for, Ellaris departed with a pleased expression.

The two men left behind exchanged looks. It was Rezion who spoke first.

“The world of ladies is deeply complicated.”

“…I’d have to agree.”