Neos' answer was unexpected to both the Duke and Bartholomew. He thought he too was one of Queen Gilsis's descendants, but was he wrong? Was he forced to come simply because he was ordered to?
“Lord Bibiyu, I think the Queen will be very displeased if she hears what you are saying just now.”
“The knights of the Combler are loyal only to Rotair, Sir. It is not about bowing down at the feet of those in power.”
It was a monotonous yet calm answer without any highs or lows.
Bartholomew, who was standing behind him, was very moved by Neos' words, but the Duke of Vergy was not willing to believe him. The current Royal Palace of Rotair is in a similar situation as if it were being played entirely in the palm of the Queen's hand. The Combler's Knight would be the card she would want to hold in one hand. On the contrary, he was more suspicious of the person who said such nonsense so casually.
He may be targeting Bartholomew by saying such things openly. Now that it was difficult to openly attack Franz or Judith, the opponent the Queen wanted to tie up the most was the dukedom.
“Now the Queen is Rotair.”
The Duke's words were close to being openly sarcastic, but Neos showed no reaction.
From the beginning, Neos' words were sincere. Neos and other Knights of the Combler were able to swear an oath of allegiance in front of Queen Gilsis, but this was because she was a member of the royal family and was currently the King's representative, not because they were afraid of the power she held.
He knew what kind of relationship the Duke of Vergy had with the Queen and the extent of the conflict between them, but it was of no interest to Neos. As he was not afraid of the Queen, the Duke's suspicions were not something he should give much weight to.
“I’ve given the order, so I’ll just head back.”
Neos' voice was very serious and low. Even after he finished speaking, he did not move quickly but stared at Bartholomew's face for a moment.
“...We will have your baggage left at the training center sent by someone within the next few days.”
Bartholomew's expression darkened again. However, he soon behaved like a combler, as was his custom at the training camp, and Neos passed by them and patted Bartholomew's shoulder as if to encourage him.
After Neos left, the Duke of Vergy looked at his son's face with his mouth closed. Complex emotions arose. Because he knew how sincerely Bartholomew devoted himself to joining the Combler, he couldn't say anything hastily.
Bartholomew recognized his father's feelings. Although his feelings were complex and desolate, it was clear that if he showed too much frustration, his father would also be hurt.
“As long as it’s like this, father.”
It was a surprisingly loud voice. Although the end of his words inevitably trembled with disappointment, the Duke could not help but be relieved that Bartholomew did not despair too much.
“We must make Franz King at all costs. Only then will I be able to tell him to let me join the Combler again.”
A distorted smile spread across the duke's lips.
***
It was Franz who was more heartbroken than anyone else when he heard that Bartholomew had been stripped of his status as a combler trainee.
Because of his careless actions, Bartholomew suffered an outrageous situation. Bartholomew was ready to kneel before Krald if he could reverse his decision and turn the Queen's anger against him, but upon hearing such words from Franz, Bartholomew became furious.
“Stop saying that! Who on earth would the King's eldest son kneel before? Franz, I willingly endured this insult to remain loyal to you when you regained your full rights. But don’t you know that saying something like that is the same as insulting me again!”
Never before had Bartholomew been angry at Franz like that. His reaction was so violent that it was surprising that he didn't throw his punches right away. Franz felt even more sorry about that and buried his dry, rough face in the palm of his hand.
“Keep your pride, Franz. Don't forget that the Duke family is loyal to you, even if others don't know it. If you give up your pride, not only mine but also the Duke’s pride will fall to the ground.”
“...Sorry."
The gloomy reply came. However, his sparkling eyes were more vibrant than when he was talking nonsense about his knees. After lightly clicking the tip of his tongue, Bartholomew lightly changed the topic.
“Did Her Highness go to bed today as well?”
"Yes. Oh, no. Because I saw her coming back earlier.”
For some reason, Judith returned to the Princess's palace even though it was still a long time before her usual return time. Franz asked next.
“Why do you ask that?”
“I have something to tell you after seeing Her Highness. Her Highness asked me before if I knew about the doctor outside.”
"It did. Have you met him?”
“Well, I asked my father and he told me the location, so I went there.”
Bartholomew, who was rubbing the corner of his mouth with a thoughtful expression, stood up.
“I’ll come see Her Highness for a moment. You sit here and reflect.”
“Reflect?”
“You should reflect on yourself for taking lightly your knees, which are the most precious and heaviest in the kingdom.”
Chuckling, Bartholomew left Astel Palace, leaving Franz behind. He walked leisurely as far as he could see, but as soon as he entered the hallway, his steps automatically became faster.
In fact, the reason he came to the palace today was to meet Judith, not Franz. He had just come in as soon as the doctor explained to him what the unidentified medicine she had requested was.
On the way, he saw Krald flirting with a woman, but he passed by, pretending not to notice. Krald said a few words and he knew taunts would follow, but he pretended not to hear and made no response.
Judith was sitting across from Cheraan and talking about something. Judging by the expression on her face, it didn't seem like it was a very enjoyable story. When Mary Anne informed them that Bartholomew had arrived, the two stopped talking and looked up.
“Bartholomew.”
“I’m sorry for coming here unexpectedly.”
"What do you mean. It’s okay, come over here and sit down.”
Judith offered him a seat and motioned for Mary Anne to bring another cup of tea. As Bartholomew sat down in his chair, Judith slowly moved her gaze with an expression as if she had something to say. However, Bartholomew realized her intention first.
“Your Highness, if you are trying to apologize for getting me kicked out of the Combler, please stop.”
Judith's cheeks turned slightly red as if she had hit the nail on the head.
She expected that the Queen would not sit still since Krald was injured, but Judith never thought that she would touch Bartholomew first rather than Franz or herself. When she found out how hard the training to become a combler was and how many years Bartholomew had endured that hard training, it became even more difficult for her to endure. It seemed like she wouldn't even be able to see the Duke, let alone Bartholomew.
“I’m on my way after nagging Prince Franz just now. Your Highness, what happened to me is my responsibility, and it is not for Your Highness or Franz to feel responsible or guilty.”
“… But it happened because of me.”
“Why is that to blame for Your Highness? It’s that damn guy’s fault.”
Cheraan reacted sharply and intervened. Last night, ever since Mary Anne heard with concern that Judith was having nightmares again, she had been in a state of anger. If it weren't for Judith, she would have stormed out and challenged Krald to a duel.
Bartholomew also nodded as if he agreed with Cheraan’s words. Judith's eyes, which had been downcast sadly, wavered slightly. It was sad to see the small face with a forced smile.
“But why did Bartholomew come to see me?”
“It’s about something Your Highness asked me to do a while ago.”
His and Cheraan's gazes met for a moment. Looking closely, it seemed like Cheraan was also talking about that. Judith said with a straight face, looking at the two people's faces in turn.
“I was talking about it with Cheraan too. Bartholomew, what have you discovered?”
“It’s about the herb that Your Highness gave us. It's hard to say for sure because it's such a small amount, but the doctor said the herb is probably..”
“Didn’t they say ‘Hand of Fifnor’?”
Cheraan could not stand it anymore and intervened. Bartholomew nodded cautiously.
“That’s what he said.”
“It is said that the doctor whom Cheraan met saw the herb and called it ‘Fifnor’s hand.’ What herb is that? “I’ve never heard of it in Tien.”
Not only in Tien but also in Rotair had she never heard of a herb with that name. Judith searched and reflected on all the memories of her past life, but it was still an unfamiliar name.
“Your Highness, you probably don’t know. When I first heard that name, I was confused too. To be precise, 'Hand of Fifnor' is a nickname. Your Highness, Fifnor, is a name that appears in an old tale of Rotair.”
“What is it about?”
Cheraan helped.
“It is said that a long time ago, a King named Daliga, who ruled the northern land, brought his thirty sons to the rich southern land to meet King Rommel, who ruled that land. King Rommel had thirty beautiful daughters, and Daliga wanted his sons to marry Rommel’s daughters.”
Judith's eyes blinked silently. Cheraan spoke again.
“It is said that King Rommel, who did not want his daughters raised in the warm southern lands to marry Princes from the barren north, accepted King Daliga’s request and had his daughters kill all the Princes who married them on the first night.”
“Kill them?”
"Yes. Twenty-nine daughters followed her father's orders and stabbed the Princes in the chest with daggers, but the youngest, Princess Fifnor, could not bring herself to kill her husband. So she used a drug that would put her husband to sleep for a long time, disguised her husband as a dead person, and then secretly stole him away before dawn and fled to the north.”
Rommel was furious when he learned that his youngest daughter had disobeyed his orders, but he was unable to catch them as they had already crossed the border.
When Fifnor arrived in the north, she tried to wake her sleeping husband, but the Prince could hardly open his eyes. Fifnor, who was in despair because she thought her husband had died because of her own mistake, hugged him and cried until she lost her breath. At the moment of Fifnor's death, the remaining medicinal properties in the Prince's body ran out.
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