Chapter 17

 

‘I didn’t notice at all before…’

Looking closely now, his eyes were red. His hair was jet-black.

Why hadn’t she noticed earlier? The reason was simple.

Aside from his hair and eye color, everything else about the knight’s aura was completely different from what she had imagined.

Maybe it was because the boy in her dreams always looked so adorably cute.

There was a jarring sense of disconnect.

In truth, the brother she saw in her dreams always appeared around the age of eight.

By now, it must have been ten years. The child would have grown into a full adult.

‘What a foolish thought I had.’

If they did meet again—would her brother find her awkward or unfamiliar? That silly thought crossed her mind.

So much had changed. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her now.

Still, if he had grown up as a knight in the Northern Territory, that was about as good a life as one could hope for.

Even if the Grand Duke had a prickly temperament, from what she’d heard, there was no place in the Empire that offered better pay or treatment.

Besides, the atmosphere here didn’t seem bad at all.

That couldn’t be entirely thanks to the knights themselves. The Grand Duke must have some redeeming qualities if he commanded such loyalty.

In a place like this, even with a strict superior, life would be manageable.

That’s why… she hoped he was here.

He used to be a shy child, cheeks flushing red, fiddling with grass blades—could he really have come to such a harsh place?

There were times, in the past, when she imagined what he might be like all grown up.

She’d thought he’d be solidly built, rather than bulky.
Taller than her, probably.
Would he have a fiancée by now? What kind of life would he be living?

Following the endless threads of imagination, she’d sometimes form a picture in her mind.

And in that sense… the knight she’d just spotted was different from what she’d imagined.

Even so, seeing someone with black hair and red eyes made her heart race.

Once the Grand Duke leaves, I’ll need to speak to him in more detail.

Meanwhile, the Grand Duke continued cutting down knight after knight, parading his overwhelming skill, then casually swept his gaze over them.

The knights, drenched in sweat, received that gaze with downcast faces.

“Those embarrassments of the North who lost will run a hundred laps around the training grounds.”

A hundred laps—around this massive training field? Wouldn’t that cause them to collapse?

Shouldn’t someone stop this? she wondered.
But the mood said otherwise.

They all seemed relieved, even thankful.

As if a hundred laps were no big deal.
As if they’d do anything just to see the Grand Duke leave.

A very fitting attitude for the so-called “pride of the North.”

She felt sorry for them—but also oddly relieved.

Because she wasn’t one of the Grand Duke’s direct subordinates.
That ridiculous emotion came from that alone.

Of course, she was still an employee like them, technically.
But she wasn’t a limb of his.

Yes—that’s right.
Just a hired worker, seen only when she was needed.

That level of distance would be best.
She reaffirmed her resolution.

The Grand Duke, having finally finished his crude hobby of tormenting the Detroit Knights, sheathed his sword and turned away.

Just then, one of the knights stepped forward.

The captain of the order moved to stop him—but the Grand Duke raised a hand, halting him.

“Vikel, are you requesting a duel too?”

The Grand Duke spoke his name with an oddly gentle tone. Perhaps they were close?

But that notion was quickly dismissed by the fierce light in Vikel’s eyes.

The energy radiating from him was sharp—completely different from the other knights who had stepped forward earlier.

His long silver hair and striking golden eyes only heightened the intensity of his aura.

When he dipped his head in a light nod, it was the most informal gesture anyone had made toward the Grand Duke so far.

To put it nicely, his attitude was relaxed—but it bordered on arrogant.

And yet, the Grand Duke was treating this knight more generously than anyone else so far.

‘It’s like he’s making an exception just for him.’

This knight had stood out from the beginning.

Even when the others had formed a circle around her, trying to surround and impress, he alone had stayed at a distance, watching her as if observing.

After all, it’s the gaze from afar that catches your eye more than the ones right up close.

Seeing him step up now, she wondered if he had a case of “main character syndrome,” or maybe he was some hidden master… or just completely oblivious.

It had to be one of those three.

Either way, she was curious. Just how skilled was he?

Would he be able to withstand at least three exchanges with the Grand Duke’s blade?

It seemed the others had the same thought, as every gaze turned toward the knight named Vikel.

With the attention of the whole training ground on them, the two men faced each other.

At the center of the training grounds, where the heat had risen so much it erased any trace of chill, a breath-stopping duel began.

Perhaps due to the habit she picked up while dancing at Agriche, her eyes instinctively followed their footwork.

The silver-haired man’s steps were incredibly light.

Like a bird riding the wind on feathered wings.

Even that alone was enough to tell he was highly skilled.

‘So he’s not the clueless type after all. That boldness must’ve come from real confidence.’

His sturdy frame looked solid when seen alone, but next to the Grand Duke, it almost seemed slim.

This time, the Grand Duke took up a proper stance.

As if to say, everything until now hadn’t been a real duel.

‘Wouldn’t that bruise the pride of the other knights?’ She couldn’t help but glance sideways.

But the knights themselves showed no concern, focused solely on the duel.

In their eyes was a mixture of admiration and brotherhood—
as if to mock her thoughts.

Ah—

No, they were watching the silver-haired man as if he were a savior here to end their torment.

‘Is it because a knight order is built on collective strength?’

She’d heard that punishment and praise alike were shared among them.

Well, that made sense.

In a real battlefield, you’d need to trust the man guarding your back—so of course there’d be this kind of loyalty.

Either way, this atmosphere was quite the contrast to what she had experienced, and it felt… refreshing.

When she turned her gaze back to the dueling ground, the two were still facing off, swords drawn.

Judging by their stances, this could turn into a very interesting match.

The Grand Duke seemed to recognize the silver-haired knight’s skill as well.

Their gazes clashed sharply, filled with tension. It was only a battle of stares, but it felt like the air could shatter from the pressure.

Then, it was the silver-haired man who made the first move.

Clang—

A sharp metallic ring echoed in the air.

And yet, his sword neither flew from his hand nor broke.

In fact, the way he held his ground—firm and unshaken—was clearly different from all those who had come before.

After that, the silver-haired man continued to strike with sharp, refined movements like a honed blade—thrusting and retreating again and again.

Each time, his long silver hair, neatly tied back, fluttered in the sunlight as it caught the light.

In contrast, the Grand Duke’s footwork remained endlessly clean and precise.

Where the silver-haired man was aggressive, the Grand Duke maintained a defensive stance.

It looked slow, almost languid, but in truth, his movements were far swifter and more solid than in any previous spar.

It was the first time she was seeing his footwork properly.

His strides were long, yet his movement made no sound, and his gaze remained unhurried.

Even in moments where a sharp sword strike looked like it could cause real injury, he didn’t blink once.

That unshakable composure gave him the air of a noble, untouchable sovereign.

The duel of spear and shield continued for quite some time.

Because the Grand Duke remained purely defensive, it appeared as though he was simply humoring the silver-haired man.

At times, it even seemed mocking—causing everyone to hold their breath and closely monitor the fight.

The heated air surged and dipped in waves.

As the match dragged on, the Grand Duke finally showed an opening. His footwork came out a half-beat too fast.

It made sense. He had already gone through several duels, so fatigue was expected.

The silver-haired man, already at his limit, seized the moment and dove in with a sharp strike.

Just as the surrounding knights started covering their mouths to stifle cheers and save the Grand Duke’s pride—

A blade seemingly summoned from thin air spun back into the Grand Duke’s hand.

And in an instant, it was pointed at the silver-haired man’s throat.

His earlier slip-up had been a feint.

The Grand Duke had lured his opponent in with a false weakness, then claimed his prey in one clean move.

‘His whole life must be like that.’

Judging someone’s life based on their swordplay—
what a ridiculous generalization. And yet, as the saying goes, ‘you can see the whole by looking at a part.’

The Grand Duke didn’t seem like someone who acquired things by honest means alone.

Everything she’d heard about him so far supported that idea.

From arriving in the desolate Northern Territory to transforming it into a place fit for human habitation, he had used any means necessary.

His people had benefited, but the territories caught in his web had suffered greatly.

There was a famous story from the southern coast’s Kaphran Territory, where excessive loyalty to the Crown Prince led them to withhold healers from the Grand Duke’s plague-ridden lands—only to pay dearly for it later.

The Grand Duke had cut off their trade routes, then bought up wheat—Kaphran’s staple crop—at better rates elsewhere.

Kaphran had no choice but to surrender with a white flag.

And then, with a cruel smile, the Grand Duke sold back the very same wheat—at ten times the price.

All while wearing the face of someone doing them a favor.

The Lord of Kaphran had supposedly cursed so loudly that there wasn’t a place in the Empire where that story hadn’t spread.

In a twisted way, it worked out in his favor. After that, no one dared mess with the Northern Territory again.

The Grand Duke always returned what he received—with interest. No matter what it was.

‘No wonder people say the crest of Detroit stands for repaying kindness twofold, and enmity tenfold.’

She didn’t think it was a bad thing.

No, in fact, she thought it made him clever.

Better a sharp, cunning lord who knew how to protect what was his than a fool who sat idle and got everything taken away.

Still— there was no denying he was an intimidating man.

Facing someone like that head-on… it seemed like it would be an exhausting task.

Of course, it wasn’t anything she needed to worry about.
She was just a hired hand, nothing more. Why should she care about the temperament of her employer?

While she was sorting through her thoughts, the Grand Duke’s gaze turned in her direction.