51 – 51. Leaving the North

*Thunk.*

Galenia pushed open the door, stepping into the office. She was the only one in the household who could enter Arundel’s office without knocking.

Arundel stood silently, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out the window.

His gaze was fixed on the lines of stalls, the makeshift market created by the procession of the nearby village.

Though just moments ago there had been two corpses, the interior now bloomed with the thick scent of roses, evidence of the servants’ diligent cleaning.

Galenia approached, her steps light upon the carpet.

Standing behind Arundel, she gave a soft, knowing laugh.

“Rianna has grown much more than I expected.”

“……”

He didn’t respond, but the greatsword resting on Arundel’s desk, clearly just used, was answer enough.

Though her skill was still embarrassingly lacking compared to Arundel’s, she had evidently reached a point where she could make marks on the greatsword.

“I heard you named Loengrin as your successor. Is that decision still firm?”

“……”

“I know why you chose Loengrin. It’s because of the succession, after Rianna. But Rianna has broken off her engagement with Isaac.”

“……”

“Now you just need to find her another match. So she can bear children suitable for the family.”

Galenia’s voice quickened.

The reason was unease.

Her eyes, filled with fear and anxiety, pleaded for Arundel to give the answer she craved.

“Make Rianna the head of the house. And… and then…”

Galenia cautiously took Arundel’s hand. The moment she touched his thick, clasped hands, her face flushed crimson.

“Let’s leave.”

“……”

“If Rianna is head of the house, Helmund is something you don’t need to worry about. Her commoner husband-to-be has decided to leave too, right?”

Her voice now carried the hint of tears. She gripped his hand tightly, speaking urgently.

“Is it because of the Sword Trials? Rianna can’t participate because she has a husband? What does that matter! The Sword Trials are just a festival! The successor announcement is ultimately your decision!”

She covered Arundel’s hands with both of hers, which were warm, trembling with a plea.

“If Loengrin becomes the head, can you leave this manor?! You can’t! Because he’s not the great Helmuth you desire!”

That’s right.

“Please, make Rianna the head.”

Galenia, her head resting on his back, implores him through tears.

“You have to live, first of all.”

“…”

“Make Rianna the head, and leave with me. There must be a way to save you. They can wield mysterious powers, and they’re renowned in medicine, they said.”

A short intake of breath.

Arundel finally turns, looking down at his wife.

“You’ll do it? Yes? Please.”

His wife pleads.

Arundel asks, his demeanor unchanged from usual.

“You think mere whelps like them can truly save me?”

“It’s possible! I saw it myself in Blackthorn! They are, they are something beyond human! They also use sorcery, something different from magic!”

“How do you know them?”

“There’s no need to worry. I didn’t speak of your condition. We don’t even know if we need them.”

Galenia had, conversely, created a situation where the transcendentals craved Arundel.

“Let’s go, us. After the Sword Offering Ceremony…in Helmuth’s carriage. We’ll see the flowers, the moon, like a picnic together. We’ll live like that-.”

A faint smile graces Galenia’s lips, as if imagining that day.

“We’ll become transcendentals. Their sorcery is different from magic, it will be able to heal your sickness.”

Although, she had killed the two envoys. It would have been a great opportunity to show Arundel’s authority.

It was clear now they knew he was such a needed asset, they would not want to give up.

Even as he listened, he could tell it was a game prepared by Galenia.

How much she had been involved, how many years had she been putting these plans into motion.

A somewhat distant feeling came over him.

“I refuse.”

A response came, crushing all of Galenia’s efforts in an instant.

* * *

Click-clack!

Click-clack!

Her very footsteps already brewed an unease within the manor.

Mistress Galenia’s eyes were rimmed red, but she paid it no mind.

Even passing servants lowered their heads and eyed her warily as she went by.

For Galenia, normally so kind, to be so troubled meant a state of emergency for the staff.

The servants who’d passed her quickly relayed this news, cautioning others to be careful.

Galenia headed out of the manor.

Following the scent of sweat through the blooming roses, she found Loengreen, wielding his greatsword.

“Mother?”

Loengreen lowered his sword and wiped his brow.

Perhaps seeing Rianna and Arandel, he was training harder than usual.

“Is something the matter? Your eyes…”

“Son.”

Galenia stared at Loengreen, her fists clenched.

“You know how much I love you, yes?”

“Mother?”

“Become the head of the house, no matter what.”

Loengreen’s body tensed, never having heard such intense words before.

“You must become the head. By any means.”

“Mother, the thing is…”

“I know. What you worry about. It’s Rianna’s true strength, isn’t it.”

Loengreen was speechless.

He had already been utterly defeated even before Rianna left.

Seeing her match blades with Arandel since her return, his confidence had only dwindled further.

“It’s alright. You can do it. Don’t concern yourself with the means. You, you are the true heir. You must be the head of the Helmunt house.”

“Mother…!”

Loengreen gazed at Galenia, his expression choked with emotion.

He clenched his fist and nodded.

“I will, I will surely meet your expectations as the eldest son.”

The image of one man naturally rose to the surface of Loengreen’s mind as he vowed to become the head of the house, no matter what.

There, he, the one they might call Rianna’s weakness.

“My son.”

Galenia, choked with sobs, clutched Loengreen. Sweat soaked her, but she cared not at all.

“Ah, my son.”

Stroking his head, Galenia lamented as if she were literally tearing off an arm, a sharp, searing pain.

“I love you so much, truly.”

But.

If asked who she loved more.

She would answer Arandel.

“It’s about clinging on with all your might.”

So, challenge Rianna with all your strength.

And shatter in that process.

To the point where you can’t possibly become the head.

Miserably.

* * *

Bubble, bubble, bubble.

The Helmund kitchen.

Cook Milly was hard at work brewing broth in a massive pot.

She stirred and stirred with a wooden ladle.

This wasn’t just any broth.

She’d gathered expensive and high-quality parts like oxtails, kneecaps, and ribs.

And not only that, she’d also placed medicinal herbs in a mesh bag to simmer alongside them.

“Heh heh.”

The best meal for him, returning from the North.

Knowing it must have been bitterly cold there, Milly was planning to make the finest stew, so he could feel warmth.

She’d also secured the finest cuts of meat, promising to receive them on the day she made the stew, so that she could serve them fresh.

“Whew, you’re working hard. I’ll go first.”

“Yes, Head Chef. You’ve worked hard today.”

Even as everyone else left the kitchen late at night, Milly kept stirring.

She wiped away the sweat with a towel, focusing intently, lest even a drop of sweat fall in.

* * *

*Screak*.

A door opening, secretive.

“Did you leave some–?”

Milli, thinking the chef had returned.

Her expression stiffens, recognizing the guest.

“M-Mistress.”

Milli, hastily dropping her spatula, greets Galenia.

Rumors of Galenia’s sour mood today, she’d certainly heard them.

Was that why?

Milli couldn’t even lift her head, so unnerved.

*Thump*.

A violet pouch, dropped on the kitchen floor.

Small enough to hide in a hand.

Milli’s eyes widen; she lifts her head in a panic.

She knew exactly what it was.

“……!”

“When I signal, you’ll put it in Isaac’s meal.”

“Mistress. That is–!”

“It has to be done. The only way to control Rianna.”

“But–.”

“Too much talking.”

With eyes brimming with chilling intent, Galenia presses down on Milli.

“If you get thrown out from here, who’s going to look after your family?”

“……!”

Milli’s body shivers.

In fear and dread, she swallows hard.

Her family flashes through her mind.

“It’s alright. Nothing to worry about.”

Galenia, who’d already seized Milli’s mind, soothes her with a sickly smile.

“You’ve done it before, haven’t you?”

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

The sound of Galenia’s footsteps fading away.

Millie, left in her place, squeezes her eyes shut.

The screams from four years ago still ring clear in her ears.

[Isaac-ah! Isaac—!]

She hadn’t known a woman could shed tears like that.

Those eyes, which she’d thought were the color of blood, now dripped with tears like rubies.

Her throat raw from screaming, a plea for him to wake, a desperate wish for his return to consciousness.

[Bring him back! Why! Why the hell is this happening!]

She didn’t know how many times she’d spat out those words.

And the doctors and mages, they gave the same answer each time.

[Well, we don’t know. The symptoms, if we have to compare them, are hardly different from a cold. It’s strangely—.]

[Magic doesn’t work. Magic is only good for external wounds, after all—.]

[Isaac-ah—!]

A desperate scream.

A plea that tore at the throat.

And then.

Herself, who brought it all about.

* * *

“Hachoo!”

“What, you got a cold?”

Isaac, sniffing, shakes his head.

“No, it’s not a cold. Just, my nose suddenly got itchy.”

“Be careful. You’re leaving now, don’t go getting sick, or they’ll think everyone in the north lives with a cold.”

Isaac lets out a chuckle at Silverna’s words.

A cold, huh.

‘Come to think of it, she kept telling me to be careful.’

[She told me to be careful!]

[Careful?]

“Ah, no! Be careful!”

Even when relaying words through Sharen, she’d warn about catching a cold, handing over warm tea and a towel along with it.

“Take care not to catch a cold, Isaac.”

Before leaving the North, Rianna had added one last “take care not to catch a cold.”

‘If I catch a cold after all that fuss, I’ll deserve every bit of the fool remarks.’

Rubbing his hands together, he glances at the carriage.

The same carriage as the one that brought him, with Jonathan busily loading luggage.

“Well, we don’t need any dramatic farewells, right?”

He says to Silverna standing next to him, she gives him a ‘thump’ on the back and nods.

“Aye, I’ll be right behind you.”

They’d be meeting again at the Sword Order anyway.

No need for drawn-out goodbyes.

“Sir Isaac! We’re ready to leave!”

“Alright, let’s go.”

As he moves to step onto the carriage, a roar rises from behind him, from the North.

“Thank you for everything!”

“We’ll never forget this day!”

“Come back anytime! You’re welcome here, Sir Isaac!”

“Next time you visit, I’ll show you a spear technique that will blow you away!”

The fervent send-off of Malridian’s soldiers.

Seleni, pinching Ulldiran’s side who was glaring at them to hurry them along.

And at the very front.

“Farewell, Isaac!”

Silverna, waving, a bright smile on her face.

Receiving their send-off.

Isaac turned back towards Helmund.