20 – 20. This Reality

Dawn hasn’t yet broken.

Isaac, as usual, was alone, swinging his sword in the training yard.

This routine, now part of his everyday life, had become the very thing that cleared the sleep from his mind.

‘Scouting party.’

Accepting Silvarna’s request from the night before.

Isaac was now part of the scouts.

It was a dangerous undertaking, venturing beyond the walls, yet he hadn’t refused.

‘With my skill, I’ll just be a drag, won’t I?’

‘Combat isn’t the highest priority for the scouts. We’re not going out to fight, but to gather information and assess things.’

‘In that regard, Isaac, I rate your eyes and judgment highly. It’s not a strange proposal, I think.’

Isaac figured it could be mutually beneficial.

Like other nobles, he lacked practical experience.

Going out with the scouts would allow him to get a better feel for the air and flow of combat.

‘Haa, in the end, it’s still a pity about my sword.’

He slowly lowered the blade.

A standard-issue sword given to ordinary soldiers.

The greatsword in Helmunt was unusable to me, so this is what I received here.

Isaac exhaled with a bitter look, his white breath briefly obscuring his vision.

Just then, a towering man appeared at the end of the training yard.

Even in the pre-dawn darkness, it was easy to tell who it was, due to his presence and size.

Uldirhan Caldias.

The March Lord approached Isaac.

Isaac’s polite greeting was met with a casual wave before the man stood before him.

“Heard from Anna, you’re out here training at the crack of dawn every day. Turns out, it’s true?”

“I’m still far from good enough. So I strive to catch up, same as the rest.”

“Piling it up like that, it’ll become something you can’t so easily dismiss.”

Isaac offered a slight smile at Uldiran’s praise.

As the Margrave, a guardian of the North, one might expect a more severe demeanor.

Yet Uldiran didn’t carry himself with such weight.

Considering he was the root of the unpretentious Silbern family, mixing with common soldiers, it was understandable.

“Truth is, I came here to see you.”

“Me, sir?”

“I understand you’ve been talking with Silbern quite a bit lately? Seems she’s been frequenting the noble’s quarters far too often.”

“…”

Mortified, Isaac fell silent.

What parent would like their daughter visiting some other man, a married one at that, in his room every night?

“At first, I considered giving you a good wallop. One of my knuckle sandwiches usually knocks most people senseless.”

He raised a thick fist.

But his tone was warm.

“But then, yesterday, I saw Silbern training late at night, and I changed my mind.”

“…”

“She’s improved a lot. Even I, her father, hardly recognized her.”

A strange light flickered in Uldiran’s eyes.

A mix of emotions.

“You’ve been helping her, haven’t you? I could see it the moment I looked at you.”

“Might I ask how you knew that, sir?”

“Reminded me of a Helmunt.”

Uldiran chuckled, a touch of childish mischief in his eyes.

“Not that you’re teaching their swordsmanship or anything. But… a special person makes another even more special. That’s why I said you’re like a Helmunt.”

Just like in his previous life and this one.

She’d take a few hints, some advice, and then, quickly, her progress would explode.

He was a case of action quicker than thought.

“The Caldian tradition, with its motto of ‘a spear for all,’ was actually holding that child back. The moment she wielded her spear according to her own instincts, she must have thought she was straying from the Caldian way of the spear.”

“……”

“Isn’t it said that progress is not about discarding, but continuing? She came to me, laughing, and rattling off the very words you told her.”

A gentle smile touched Uldiran’s lips.

His good-natured warmth almost made Isaac lower his guard.

“My daughter is in your debt. Thank you.”

“I, too, learn much from Silverna.”

At Isaac’s reply, Uldiran slowly turned his gaze, indicating his manor.

“A warrior of the North doesn’t express himself only in words.”

“Pardon?”

“Let us go together. I have many things in my storeroom—useless, yet precious.”

He grinned, gesturing towards Isaac’s sword with a tilt of his chin.

“Judging by the look of it, you need more than just that, don’t you?”

“……!”

Uldiran, having watched only a brief training session, had immediately discerned Isaac’s dissatisfaction with his current sword.

“They say a great swordsman shouldn’t be picky about his blade, but you know, there’s no one as sensitive to their swords as the Helmund.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Ha ha! Once, when I tried sparring with that fool, Arandel…”

* * *

Early morning, with the sun rising.

A satisfied smile graced Isaac’s lips in the training grounds.

A snow-leopard fur hat and gloves, gifts from Silverna and Anna.

And boots that wouldn’t slip even on the icy path.

Finally, a wide-bladed sword named a “Palsun” hung long at his waist.

“You look like a Northerner now?”

Isaac simply shrugged at Silverna’s words.

The Palsun at his waist, in particular, was a sword of considerable quality, gifted by Uldiran.

Though not exactly the shape he desired, it was far superior to the standard issue blade.

The ‘Isaac’s Sword’ he was currently writing envisioned a single-edged blade, and the Palsun was a perfect fit.

“Haaahm, sleepy.”

Then, a girl with pigtails, dragging her feet, walked onto the parade ground.

Sharen Helmont.

She yawned, a series of small ‘snik-sniks,’ clearly tired from sleeping in a new place, and approached the two of them.

Sharen was also a member of the scouting party that Silverna had envisioned, a team she’d assembled based purely on skill, disregarding lineage. A self-made elite.

“Did you both eat breakfast?”

“No, not yet. We’re planning to grab a spot first, then eat something.”

“I ate a cookie.”

To Silverna and Sharen’s answers, Isaac pulled out the sandwich fixings he’d grabbed from the mess hall.

He spread his cloak on the ground, and sitting on it, Isaac started making the sandwiches.

“It’s good to have something in your stomach, at least. Who knows what might happen outside.”

At Isaac’s words, Silverna hesitated for a moment before taking a sandwich.

“That’s right. I guess I got a little tense thinking about leading the scouting party.”

“What about me?”

Sharen asked, wondering if she’d get one as well.

Isaac glanced at her, then quickly made one and handed it over.

“Well, since it’s Isaac who made it, I’m not expecting mu– what?! This is crazy delicious?”

Sharen’s attitude changed in an instant, and she began devouring it like a starved beast.

“I used to eat these for lunch when I worked as a boatswain. You have to get the jam ratio just right.”

The result of trying to make even a simple sandwich delicious, somehow.

“You used this to win over Unni, didn’t you?”

Sharen mumbled, her cheeks smeared with food. Isaac looked like he was about to say something, but gave up and just nodded.

“Yeah, I used this to win her over.”

Honestly, it was to win her over back then.

He remembered trying to come up with all sorts of lines, wanting to impress this woman somehow.

It was a dark history.

“You used to give these to Rianna to win her over, and now you’re giving them to me?”

Silverna murmured, staring down at the half-eaten sandwich in her hand. Isaac quickly jumped in to defend himself.

“Don’t go putting weird meanings to it. It’s just to make sure we’re not hungry, at least.”

“Ah, I know.”

Even as she said that, Silverna started eating her sandwich with a peculiar sort of caution.

* * *

Rianna’s morning was later than she’d intended.

‘Haa.’

It was because her dreams were savage, and she had them quite often. Nightmares.

Her morning starting a bit later than others.

But it didn’t matter.

She was only disguised as a handmaiden; she wasn’t one for real, so sleeping in didn’t cause big problems.

Sharing a room with the other handmaidens was a rather strange experience though.

Rianna checked under the bed – no cushions there, really, more like a big wooden crate.

Her greatsword, tightly wrapped in bandages, waited forlornly for its master.

Ragnabel.

Rianna’s greatsword.

Finding it safe, she did a quick wash and went outside.

Looking just like yesterday, completely hidden.

The closest thing Rianna saw when she came out of the lodgings were the Malridian Wall soldiers, each moving busily.

If she shifted her gaze further, she could see nobles training in the parade ground.

And further still, under the rising sun, stood the Malridian Wall, steadfast.

‘Cold.’

The weather was chilly.

It was her first time with nothing to do, and as she felt bored,

the cold northern air made her hands numb and a memory suddenly came to mind.

Back before they were married.

“You talked about the north, remember?”

A blue river stretched behind them, like a backdrop.

That day, the water was unusually calm, and they were spending some time on a boat.

Two of them, sitting face to face in a small ferry.

The chat they shared to digest the sandwich they’d halved and eaten together.

It was so sweet, tea and sweets were not needed.

[When you are in love, everything seems good.]

Isaac, speaking with a smile.

Is that truly it?

Is that why everything about you looks good to me right now?

Rianna swallowed her inner thoughts and spoke something else.

‘Nonsense.’

[It’s the truth. There’s a reason they say love is magic.]

‘You have to think realistically.’

[I *am* speaking quite realistically. When you’re with someone you love, everything, everywhere, looks good.]

Rianna, with no experience, could only continue to deny it.

Without her realizing, on the boat that had drifted afloat, the two began to speak as if in a dialogue.

‘The North? It’s terribly cold there.’

[Then we can hold hands.]

‘The humid weather in the East? It’ll be irritating just being together.’

[I’ll make you a cool drink. Let’s sit together in the shade and pass the time.]

‘It’s going to rain, it’s the rainy season.’

[We can share one umbrella. My shoulder doesn’t mind getting a little wet.]

‘…Did you practice this somewhere?’

[What do you call it… the power of love, perhaps?]

Isaac, finding himself silly, laughed shyly.

That look of his was rather cute, and Rianna nearly laughed along without realizing, but.

Isaac, a commoner oarsman.

Rianna Helmundt, of a distinguished noble family.

The gap between them struck her again, and Rianna’s expression turned sharply dark.

[What’s wrong-]

‘Helmundt.’

Meeting Isaac’s eyes as he worriedly went to ask, Rianna asked that instead.

‘What about Helmundt?’

Not the cold of the North.

Not the heat of the East.

A place far more grueling to be.

Rianna, this time, she was sure, Isaac wouldn’t have an answer, and she tasted the bitterness.

Softly.

Taking her hand, Isaac smiled.

[You’ll be there.]

‘…!’

Rianna, biting her lip tight, dropped her head low.

Her fallen hair hid her face, and Isaac didn’t press the matter, didn’t seek to shame her further.

Embarrassed.

Her face felt like it would burst.

Such a memory.

“Good thing I’m wearing a mask,”

Rianna mumbled to herself, the awkwardness returning.

As the northern wind cooled her burning face, she spotted three people huddled in a corner of the training field, eating sandwiches.

‘Isaac and Sylverna?’

Her younger sister was with them, but Rianna paid her no mind.

Silently, she crept closer, careful to hide the sound of her footsteps.

No need to get too close.

The great Helmunt’s body possessed even exceptional hearing.

It started with Sharen.

“Gimme another one. These are good.”

“Make your own.”

“Tch! I’ll make them better!”

“They’re simple ingredients, but tasty. I thought all sandwiches were pretty much the same.”

Sylverna’s last words sent a jolt through Rianna.

Sandwiches?

‘Isaac made those sandwiches?’

That was the food they used to enjoy on their little boat dates, wasn’t it?

He even made them for her for breakfast this year for their 4th anniversary.

“……”

A strange feeling surged in her chest.

Rianna thought she knew what this was, but decided against putting it into words.

‘Just like up on the ramparts. You’ve gotten friendly with the Lady Caldias, haven’t you?’

The chatter continued to reach Rianna’s ears, dispirited.

“Strictly speaking, it tastes a little different from the sandwich we usually eat. The ingredients are different, and there’s a difference in the preparation.”

“Oh? You’re rather proud of that?”

“Of course.”

“Chomp, chomp.”

Sharen’s chomping made it hard to hear, but Rianna’s shoulders loosened a bit.

‘Yeah, that’s right.’

The sandwiches they ate together on the rowboat, weren’t they special?

Not something you could easily taste just anywhere.

“What, is it the taste of love? Something like that?”

Sharen asked, with jam smeared all over her mouth.

She seemed rather interested in such things, like a 17-year-old girl would be.

‘Well, you could say that.’

Rianna nodded, even if she didn’t feel it now, she was certain it was true back then.

“Get a grip. Love, my foot. It’s tasty because the jam and meat are tasty.”

“……”

…She was about to nod.

But at Isaac’s words, Rianna sharply turned her head to stare at him.

“There’s no such thing as the power of love! Don’t be swayed by romance!”

“Okay, okay! Stop talking! You’re being way too sincere all of a sudden, it’s scary! Don’t get in my face!”

“It’s reality! Marriage is!”