"Yes."
"Yes...?"
Having just finished sparring, Alkerto caught his breath.
The 2nd Knight Order's training grounds were empty except for the two of them. After hearing from Sigrid, he had given up alcohol and entertainnt, focusing entirely on swordsmanship. At first, most people laughed when they heard Alkerto wasn't drinking because of his sword training. Alkerto disliked such mockery and found it sowhat embarrassing and awkward. He had thought about drinking and having fun, but he regained his resolve.
—Does Alkerto have any other choice?
He thought of Sigrid's question, asked in such a bewildered tone. And Morris didn't mock Alkerto for this, so the two diligently devoted themselves to swordsmanship, which made him feel sowhat at ease.
At least he wasn't without friends.
"Should I try it too...?"
Alkerto muttered, and Morris tossed him a towel, asking:
"What did you say?"
"Should I try taking the test too...?"
Alkerto cleared his throat as he wiped away his sweat with the towel.
"I an, I'm probably not good enough yet, but the 1st Knight Order..."
"Go for it. We can take the test together."
Morris replied readily. Alkerto started to say "Should I?" but then sighed deeply and said:
"What if I fail? It would be embarrassing."
"Then you practice more and try again."
Morris answered concisely. Alkerto said "I see" and shivered as the cold set in while his sweat cooled. It seed spring was still far off.
"By the way, is Sigrid alright?"
"What do you an?"
"You said she's guarding the Third Prince. I heard everyone cos out shell-shocked after a week."
"Sigrid seems to be doing well, though?"
"Really? That's good then."
Alkerto replied lightly. He glanced at Morris and asked:
"I heard Viscount Deforest is coming up to formally receive his title."
"How did you hear about that?"
"What kind of news do you think young people in this field hear about?"
"I'm not going to attend."
At Morris's words, Alkerto simply said "I see" and didn't pry further. He didn't particularly want to reveal his own family matters either. Alkerto said:
"Let's go in. We'll catch cold."
"One more round before we go in."
At Morris's words, Alkerto hesitated with an "Uh—" before nodding.
"Since I've decided to take the Knight Order test, I should work hard."
Alkerto said as he lightly rotated his joints. He glanced towards the distant palace and said:
"Sigrid must be working hard too."
And true to his words, Sigrid was diligently guarding at that mont.
As her guard duty passed the one-week mark, Awen realized that Sigrid had no intention of catching him and stopped running away. Still, he continued to tornt his tutor and flee from lessons.
"Your Highness."
"What?"
"Aren't you bored?"
At Sigrid's words, Awen turned to look at her sharply.
"Why?"
"Well, you're not doing anything."
Sigrid made her own guess that this might be why he was causing more trouble. Awen replied gruffly:
"So are you going to do sothing for ?"
"No."
Sigrid's quick reply made Awen frown. Sigrid turned her gaze to the window. There were many unused rooms in the palace, and this was one of them. Naturally, there was no fire in the fireplace of an unused room, and cold air filled the space. The winter sunlight was the only warmth. Dust particles could be seen dancing in the transparent light. Sigrid quietly exhaled. A distinct white breath ford in the sunlight before disappearing.
"Isn't it boring to stay here like this? Why don't we go out to the garden?"
"It's cold."
"It's cold here too."
"I'll go back if you chase away the tutor. Aren't you cold too?"
"I'm not that cold."
"Why?"
"Because I'm an aura user."
"...Is that true?"
"Do you an if I'm really an aura user?"
"Yeah, there's no way a woman could be good with a sword."
"It's true."
"Show ."
Sigrid obediently held out her hand. A vivid crimson aura, like a fla burning brightly even in the sunlight, appeared. Awen's eyes widened, and he swallowed hard before saying:
"Can I touch it?"
The question was identical to Marie-Chez's, and Sigrid smiled unconsciously, thinking of her friend, and said:
"Of course."
Awen's small, childlike fingers carefully caressed the aura. But aura cannot be grasped. Like trying to hold smoke, the aura rose between his fingers.
"It can't be grabbed."
"That's how it is."
Sigrid said and closed her hand. Awen looked at her hand with eyes full of regret. He muttered:
"So it's real... I thought it was fake..."
"If there were soone who could impersonate a master with a fake, I'd like to see that too."
The main issue would be how to create fake aura in the first place. Awen said "I see" and glanced at Sigrid before saying:
"Could I use it too?"
"Use what?"
"Aura."
"You might be able to if you work hard."
"What kind of answer is that."
After grumbling, Awen grinned and held out his hand.
"I'll just take your aura core. Give
your aura co—"
"No."
Sigrid said, grabbing his hand. There was sothing in her action that made even Awen flinch. Sigrid applied pressure to the hand she was holding and spoke coldly again:
"No."
"I, I know!"
Awen shouted defensively and tried to pull his hand away, but Sigrid didn't budge.
"Let go!"
At Awen's words, Sigrid finally said "Ah" and released his hand. As Awen stumbled from his own force, Sigrid caught him and steadied him.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah."
Awen replied softly, unable to protest against Sigrid. Sigrid said:
"I gained my aura core through my own efforts. If you want one, Your Highness should work hard too."
"If I had that..."
Awen glanced at the window and continued:
"Mother might..."
He muttered, then said to Sigrid:
"Teach ."
"Pardon?"
"The sword."
"That's not my responsibility."
At those words, Awen dashed towards the door, saying:
"I'll ask Mother."
Sigrid furrowed her brow but followed him without comnt. Awen ran at full speed to the Empress's palace. The servants who saw the running prince and the guard chasing him paid no attention, as it was a common sight. Entering the Empress's palace, Awen requested an audience, and a maid soon returned with an answer.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness. Her Majesty says she has a headache today and cannot see you."
"But...!"
Awen's face fell. The maid bowed her head and said:
"I'm sorry, Your Highness. We'll contact you when Her Majesty feels better."
"Please ask my mother once more."
As Awen spoke forcefully, the maid looked troubled, but soon bowed and withdrew.
"Mother really is sick."
Awen said loudly, and Sigrid looked at him with puzzled eyes. Awen said with a reddened face:
"She usually ets with ."
"Of course she would."
When Sigrid answered plainly, Awen turned his head with a sowhat hurt expression.
'Did I say sothing wrong?'
As she wondered, the maid returned. The answer was still 'No.' Awen's spirits sank, but then he suddenly lunged at the maid.
"It's because you're not taking good care of Mother!"
"Oh my, Your Highness!"
The maid was startled and didn't know what to do. Awen grabbed the maid's hair and kicked her. Sigrid blinked as she watched the situation. Then, in an instant, she smoothly grabbed Awen by the nape of his neck and lifted him. The maid had fallen to the floor and was crying, while Awen struggled and said:
"What are you doing! Let go! If you're a guard, just guard!"
"You'll hit the table. If you're going to do this, do it away from the furniture, in the center over there."
At Sigrid's words, Awen turned to look at her with an "Eek—" and stopped struggling. The servants who had rushed over at the commotion looked at Awen with bewildered faces while comforting the fallen maid.
"...Let's go."
Awen glared at them before turning away, and Sigrid followed. It was strange to see such small, slumped shoulders after causing such a ruckus. Awen stopped abruptly while walking.
"Mother doesn't dislike ."
"I see."
"She's not feeling well."
"I understand."
Awen looked up at Sigrid. His lips parted slightly, then pressed tightly together. Sigrid waited silently. Awen asked:
"Do you think Mother dislikes ?"
"I don't know."
At those words, Awen's eyes welled up with tears. He reached out and grabbed Sigrid's clothes. Tears began to fall from his eyes.
"Everyone, everyone just lies— hic, sob—"
"Lies?"
"Th-that Mother w-wouldn't, hic, dislike, , ugh, sob—"
"But in reality, she dislikes you.
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