Chapter 199: The Knight Admired by the North
“Teacher, you said there was a way?”
Flina turned around, anticipation shining in her emerald eyes. Her movement was too quick, and the hem of her dress traced a graceful arc through the air, her long legs faintly visible beneath the light fabric.
Count Owen watched her and sighed inwardly. This was nothing like the crown princess who traded barbs with old foxes in the council chamber. They said heroes were drawn to beauty, yet it seemed beauty also yearned for heroes. After all, the princess had reached that age.
“Your Highness, if the Old Stubborn saw you like this, they would probably write another ten thousand words lecturing on royal decorum,” Owen teased her gently, his gaze warm with the indulgence of an elder. Flina paused, then realized how obvious she had been. Her cheeks flushed as she tucked a stray lock behind her ear and forced her expression into a stern mask.
“I simply think that on the path to restoring the kingdom, encountering a noble knight who shares our ideals and possesses exceptional ability is a blessing for the realm. The people around me are either arrogant nobles who boast without substance or timid officers who dare not act. It is rare to find someone of my generation whose thoughts align with mine. That is all.”
“Oh? Only that?” Owen could not resist teasing her further when he saw her stubbornness. “I did not say anything at all.”
Flina felt exposed under his gaze and turned away in irritation. “Teacher, if you keep this up, I will be angry!”
Owen stopped while he was ahead, knowing how thin-skinned his student could be. His expression grew serious.
“Very well, let us speak of something proper. If you truly wish to meet him, next year’s Festival of Fasting will be an excellent opportunity. The Festival of Fasting is the most important celebration in Elfin. The capital traditionally invites feudal lords to attend the grand ceremony led by the Temple of the Mother Goddess, offering prayers for the kingdom. At that time, you may invite this ‘hero who fought against the undead’ to the capital in the name of the royal family.”
Owen stroked his chin, a habit when he was thinking.
“During the festival, invited lords are not permitted to bring private troops into the city, so there is no need to worry about him plotting anything. Those with ulterior motives tend to hesitate when faced with an unexpected summons. If Mr. Nolan truly supports the kingdom, he will come. It will also serve as a test of his character. Furthermore, the Red City Conference takes place after the festival. According to our plan, that will be the moment when north and south lay their cards on the table, and conflict will be unavoidable. If Mr. Nolan is indeed the knight you have chosen, he may attend as well. The military force he commands would become an additional hidden weight on our side.”
Flina’s face reddened again. “What do you mean, chosen…”
Owen merely smiled. She felt as though all her thoughts had been seen through and quickly turned her face away. Truly worthy of being the leader of the royalists, the Tattooed Count never looked only one move ahead before placing a piece on the board.
Flina lowered her head and thought for a moment. The proposal was indeed sound. It preserved the dignity of the royal family while allowing her to meet him openly and properly.
In the end, she made her decision.
“Very well. This is the most suitable plan. We will proceed as such. I only hope this knight can truly become the sword that cuts through the fog.”
Owen nodded, then remembered something else. “Ah, one more matter. The youngest son of the Raul family came again today, seeking an audience outside the palace gates. He claims to have found a rare deep-sea pearl and wishes to present it for your appreciation.”
“I do not wish to see him.” Flina’s tone turned cold, her good mood vanishing at once. “Send him away. Tell him I have no interest in pearls. If he has nothing better to do, he should go to the southern frontier and kill a few undead. That would be far more valuable.”
“He says he represents the Raul family, Your Highness. They have contributed a considerable sum to the Royal Guard’s logistics…”
“I said no.” Flina turned her back decisively.
“As you wish.” Owen bowed slightly.
He left the room with elegance. As he opened the door, a cold wind swept in.
Looking at the overcast sky in the distance, Owen murmured softly, “Nolan… do not disappoint me, young man.”
***
Meanwhile, in the north of the kingdom, the climate was far harsher than in the south, even the wind carrying a biting edge.
Inside a luxurious manor in Vilford Province, firewood crackled in the fireplace. A group of nobles dressed in fine furs sat around a long table, drinking and laughing.
“Hahaha! Have you heard? That old fool from Demont has utterly disgraced himself this time!” A baron with a fleshy face slapped the table, sending red wine splashing from his goblet. “A coalition of nearly ten thousand nobles, and they were scattered by a so-called Pioneer Knight leading a mob of rabble?”
“And that idiot Pascal even got himself killed at the Somme River. What a disgrace to the nobility!” Another man sipped his wine, his tone dripping with disdain. “The southern armies are only good for bullying commoners. The moment they face a real opponent, their true colors show.”
“That Nolan fellow probably just got lucky, catching the alliance off guard with a surprise attack.”
“Those useless fools cannot even suppress a rebellion, yet they still dream of competing with us for control of the kingdom?”
“You are thinking too small, brothers. Once the distinguished guests from the Rus Empire arrive, I would love to see the look on their faces.”
At the head of the table, Archduke Vilford swirled his golden goblet and sneered, “Let them fight. The fiercer the better. When both sides are weakened, our Lionmane Legion will march south and conveniently take that territory as well. The princess claims legitimacy and holds the capital, but what can a woman accomplish? It would be better for her to yield her position to the prince as soon as possible. It is time we show those soft southern royalists the strength of the north.”
Amid the generally relaxed and jubilant atmosphere of the northern military nobles, Cayman Vilford stood out in stark contrast.
The Vilford estate had been covered in pure white snow. This manor was meant as a retreat, yet now it held only patrolling soldiers, with the gates tightly guarded.
The archduke’s heir, who had been eager to travel south to seek out Nolan, had been confined by his father in this estate outside the city for an entire week.
Inside a room on the second floor of the main building, the air was heavy.
Cayman Vilford faced the wall and slammed his fist against it in frustration. “Damn it!”
That day, he had gone to his father in high spirits, declaring his intention to head south and visit the “true knight.” What he received in return was a resounding slap.
“You want to ‘visit’ a rebel leader of rabble? Do you intend to make the Vilford family a laughingstock of the kingdom? When will you learn to understand your position and think for the family’s interests instead of your childish fantasies?”
His father’s furious roar still echoed in his ears.
Archduke Vilford had flown into a rage, and Cayman’s comfortable days came to an end. Not only was he confined and ordered to reflect on his behavior, but his appointment as an officer in the northern Lionmane Legion was also indefinitely postponed.
The appointment itself had merely been a formality, a chance to polish his credentials. Cayman did not care about that. He only wanted to leave this place and do something meaningful.
***
That day, the sound of approaching hooves echoed as a carriage came to a stop before the estate.
A woman in a thick, luxurious fur coat stepped down. Snowflakes settled upon her dark fur collar like scattered diamonds. Even the heavy coat could not conceal her graceful figure; instead, it lent her an added air of elegance and nobility, leaving the guards at the gate staring in awe.
“Milady!”
Recognizing her, the soldiers quickly straightened and saluted respectfully.
She was Linlin, Cayman’s fiancée. Though they were not yet married, everyone knew it was only a matter of time.
“You have worked hard, standing guard in such cold weather.” Linlin brushed the snow from her coat, her voice gentle and pleasant. “Cayman… has he shown any unusual behavior?”
Her voice alone seemed to soften the soldiers.
“Rest assured, milady. Young Master Cayman has remained in his room these past few days and has not stepped outside.” The leading guard puffed out his chest, trying to appear more imposing.
Linlin nodded and gave them a sweet smile. “Very well, I will go up to see him.”
She stepped forward, but the guards moved to stop her.
“Milady…”
The guard looked troubled, not daring to meet her captivating gaze.
“The archduke has given strict orders. No one is to have contact with Young Master Cayman. He is to reflect on what proper conduct befits the heir of an archduke. No one is allowed to bring him anything either… Please return…”