26 – 26. Sleet

“Unniee?”

Sharen called out in a small voice.

She was so bewildered that she questioned if the scene unfolding before her was real.

Logically speaking.

Why would Rianna be here?

“Sharen, you’re here.”

But the moment she uttered that one phrase, Sharen’s body stiffened.

That was truly Rianna Helmont.

The unique, unordinary murderous intent that she could only feel from her sister, was flooding the room, taking control.

‘Kelsi!’

She glanced at her maid, begging for help, but Kelsi could only lower her head, unable to do anything.

“U-unnie? How did you get here?”

“Is that really what matters right now?”

“Y-yes, it does! If Father finds out you’re here, he’ll be furious!”

“Yes, he would be.”

Rianna nods, head bobbing slightly.

“Don’t much care.”

Her face, a portrait of genuine indifference.

It was a far cry from the Rianna who usually watched Arundel’s every move, a stark contrast.

‘What gives?’

Sharen, in turn, felt a prickle of unease.

It was almost as if she was deliberately courting the lord’s ire.

“Sharen.”

But whatever the reason.

One thing was certain, her sister was mighty vexed.

‘Why should I cower?!’

Staring at Rianna’s strange posturing, Sharen reverts to her usual way of speaking.

“What is it, Sister! Coming all this way, you must have a reason, eh?!”

“Ah, Young Lady.”

“Kelsie, you stay quiet. Right now I’m here representing Helmund, at the Malridan Wall. But you are here ignoring the lord’s orders! I have the right to call you out for—!”

“Did you enjoy your time with Isaac?”

“U-Uh, Sister…”

Sharen’s tail drooped instantly.

Her shoulders slumped, at a total loss.

“You know, Sharen. Isaac is my husband.”

“……”

She wanted to add ‘for now’, but Rianna’s aura was too menacing, and Sharen kept her mouth shut.

“From the outside, it just seems like a brother-in-law and sister-in-law getting along well.”

Rianna moves closer, slow and deliberate.

Her red eyes glint, catching the faint light in the darkness.

“But I know, what feelings you harbor.”

“S-Sister?”

Now half-weeping, Sharen looks up at Rianna.

“Don’t, Sharen.”

Rianna, gently pushing a strand of hair off Sharen’s cheek, speaks with a touch of bitterness.

“I don’t want to see Isaac suffer because of Helmuth anymore.”

“Sis…ter?”

Only after getting closer did Sharen finally grasp the emotion within her sister.

“Let it…end.”

Deep regret.

And yet, the inability to completely let go.

“Let him go.”

It must be because she loves him so much.

“…Sister.”

By this point, Sharen couldn’t help but feel bewildered.

The part Kelsi had wondered about but couldn’t ask.

The reason she was here, even defying the orders of the head of the family, Arundel Helmuth.

“Why did you come here?”

At those words, Rianna only offered a bitter smile, no other answer.

* * *

“I know.”

“Pardon?”

“I know. I know too.”

“…What are you saying?”

“It’s nothing. It’s nothing much. We just need to act like friends.”

“Are you talking to yourself?”

Anna was bewildered, watching Silverna muttering to herself beside her.

‘Why is she acting like this?’

“It’s unlike me. Yeah, let’s not make it awkward for no reason.”

She had been wondering why Silverna was acting so unlike her usual self,

but the question was quickly answered, ridiculously so.

“Aren’t you a moron?! How can you be a Helmuth knight if that’s the best you can do with Red River?”

“S-sorryyyy!”

“……”

The next morning, at the training grounds.

Sharen, eyes narrowed, delivers a cutting remark about Jonathan’s fall from grace.

Isaac, watching them both, scribbles notes in his book.

His pen scratching across the page is a sight so familiar it’s become the norm.

Is he perhaps researching Helmut’s sword?

He diligently transcribes Sharen’s lecture on the fall.

“Ahem, Isaac?”

Silberna approaches, a touch awkward.

“Ah, Silberna.”

Isaac greets them both, curtly. Before Silberna can fumble out a greeting, he speaks first.

“Do you happen to have a hair tie? My hair’s gotten longer than I thought.”

“Now that you mention it, you’re right.”

Isaac’s hair now brushes his shoulders.

Anna pulls out a spare hair tie she’d tucked away.

“You know how to tie it?”

“Uh, sort of.”

In his past life, he’d often be holed up, writing in his room.

Whenever his hair grew long, he’d tie it back in a simple ponytail.

As Isaac neatly ties back his hair, Silberna stares, her face flushed with what appears to be frustration.

“You, you, you wanna die?!”

“…Why?”

“Lady?”

“The way he ties his hair, it’s, it’s-.”

Silberna’s face is red, words failing her. She claps a hand over her mouth, swallowing back whatever she intended to say.

“Go see the blacksmith! I told him, he’s waiting for you to come.”

“Ah! The thing we spoke of yesterday!”

With a sudden burst of energy, Isaac jumps up, heading towards the forge.

Oblivious to Silberna and Anna’s stares fixed on his back, he walks with a bright, innocent stride.

The Maliduan forge was located at the edge of the protective barrier.

Due to the noise and the pungent smells, it was pushed to the periphery.

Yet, it remained one of the most crucial facilities near the front lines.

And here, to speak of the warmest place in the North, all would point to the smithy.

“You’ve got the face to make a fair few lasses weep.”

“Pardon?”

Isaac showed his bewilderment at the smith’s sharp jab as soon as he stepped inside. The smith clicked his tongue while swinging his hammer.

“To think I’d be making a sword for a fop like him. That Silbernna lass is something else.”

“I’ve come as a customer, at the very least show me some courtesy.”

“Smiths are folk who hammer with stubbornness and pride. I ought to be able to choose the one who wields the weapon I forge, wouldn’t you say?”

“So, money doesn’t matter to you?”

“That’s why my missus is always giving me grief.”

The smith let out a hearty laugh. Though this was the North, he wore a sleeveless shirt; his arms bore clear scars of burns and cuts.

“Still, Silbernna said it, so I believe you’ll craft my sword.”

“Tsk, I suppose I have to.”

A sly smile played at the edge of his lips. Usually, such craftsmen are a pain in the arse, but their skills are undeniable. They have the soul of artists, viewing their weapons as works of art. So, no matter who the client, they forge it with their absolute best. As a smith of Caldias, his skill was assured. After all, living on the frontlines, he wouldn’t have had a single day off from wielding his hammer. Even his apprentices, visible behind him, each had the aura of a master.

“I’ve brought my own blueprint.”

As soon as Isaac pulled it out, the smith snatched it, snorting derisively.

“Ha! This is ridiculous! To receive a blueprint from an amateur and forge a swor-“

His free-wheeling tongue ground to a halt. The puzzled looks on the faces of his hammering apprentices seemed to indicate they had never seen him react like this before. The smith stared for a long moment, then slowly raised his head to meet Isaac’s gaze. His eyes now held a grave seriousness.

“…You conceived this yourself?”

“Strictly speaking, it wasn’t my own idea. I had a number of suggestions.”

A blade, black, is a necessity for a swordsman.

Grasping a fine blade is also among the qualities of a swordsman.

In his past life, Isaac hadn’t simply studied swordsmanship.

Rather, in studying swordsmanship, one naturally becomes adept with weapons like the sword.

In his past life, he’d sought instruction and advice on swords from countless blacksmiths.

“A peculiar sword, this.”

“Strictly speaking, it’s a weapon called a ‘dao’.”

“Dao? Hmm, peculiar. Similar to your falchion, yet different.”

Isaac gave a wry smile.

Because this thing was a weapon used by the transcendent races.

“A clash of guards seems impossible with that? It might be light, but a blade that thin can’t hold in a power struggle.”

“I use it because I lack power.”

He confessed his honest feelings.

It was an acknowledgment of his own limitations.

“It looks like it’ll break soon if you swing it around?”

“Then wouldn’t that mean the blacksmith made it wrong?”

“Hmph.”

“So I was thinking of entrusting it to the best blacksmith, but if you’re not confident, I’ll leave.”

“Such childish provocation, like a child.”

The blacksmith grinned, clenching his fist.

“And I’m quite childish.”

Having lived as a blacksmith for many years and not fearing challenges, he could stand where he was now.

“Just wait. There’ll be some trial and error.”

“Very well.”

Either way, there was still some time before the great swarm ended.

Until then, Isaac planned to cooperate as much as possible, so that he could make a blade just for him.

Looking at the blueprints, as he was about to return to the forge, he stopped in his tracks and posed a final question.

“But… I heard you’re from Helmundt?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“I don’t think using anything other than a greatsword is permitted in Helmundt?”

Isaac chuckled, a brief puff of air, at the question.

“Isn’t the point of a sword… to cut?”

“Hm?”

“The moment I hold a greatsword, it’s no longer a sword to me, just a cumbersome weight.”

“…”

“I need a sword.”

At Isaac’s stark declaration, the blacksmith stared at him a moment, then slowly approached, extending a hand.

“Antonio. The one who’ll put a real sword in your hand. You should at least know my name.”

“Isaac.”

* * *

The training ground, after Isaac’s departure.

“Hey, you fool! Can’t you even do *this*?! This is basic!”

“S-sorry!”

Hidden beneath the whimpering voice of Jonathan, receiving Sharen’s harsh instruction, Anna asked hesitantly.

“My Lady, what’s wrong?”

“Anna.”

Her lips moved, a small, restless stirring, before she spilled it out like a complaint.

“You were right.”

“My Lady?”

“I… I think I… like him.”

“……!”

Anna’s eyes widened, and she darted a quick glance around.

Sharen and Jonathan were too caught up in their own thing, and the only other person in view was a masked maidservant.

They were too far away to hear, it should be fine, she decided.

“My Lady, you absolutely cannot tell anyone about this feeling. You understand?”

“I know… That’s why I’m only telling *you*.”

“Haa, alright. He’s already a married man. And from Helmund, no less. Love might be a noble thing, but you also know it’s ruined many people’s lives, yes?”

“Yeah.”

Silberna slumped, defeated.

She holds her tight, patting her back.

“Ah, my young mistress. What ever will we do?”

“Anna… am I… strange?”

“No, young mistress. How could you possibly hold back a heart that’s come to love? It’s just, just-“

Anna hesitates a moment, then answers with a sniffle of her own.

“It’s just… a little, a very little bit late.”

It felt as if a heavy stone had settled in her chest.

It’s a blessing, to be able to rest today.

Let’s take the day to calmly sort out my heart.

‘Ah, the heavens are cruel.’

The first snow falling on my young mistress’s heart.

And of all things, it had to be sleet.