What is this?
Arkan thought. He couldn’t remember a single thing Erdene was talking about.
What was this talk of reorganizing the knights, and what was a Duke?
‘Isn’t this another headache?’
Arkan touched his forehead for a moment and looked at Erdene.
“Duke? What do you mean? Which Duke are you talking about?”
“Pelarhar, Your Majesty’s cousin. The Duke of Sonetum.”
Arkan was even more confused.
“Pelarhar? No, why is Pelarhar here?”
Erdene explained.
“After watching the adjutants’ training this morning, I thought that the Knights of Vetor were very inefficiently organized. Even the captains leading the soldiers were not utilizing their talents or strengths at all. That’s why I thought we should reorganize the Knights.”
“I understand. But I wonder why the story of Pelarhar is being brought up.”
“He was at the parade ground. He must have come to watch the training. I thought he had already done so when he said he would talk to His Majesty after talking about the Knights."
Arkan slumped his shoulders as if he was disappointed. Erdene’s explanation was clear and concise, but the most important question was still unanswered.
“Yes, I understand the story of the Knights. But why didn’t you... tell me directly? Why did you try to talk to me through Pelarhar?”
Erdene said nonchalantly.
“I thought Your Majesty wouldn’t listen if I told you. The Duke also said it would be better if he tried to make a fortune himself.”
At that moment, Arkan shuddered invisibly at the familiar feeling that came over him.
The same unpleasant, heart-pounding sensation he had felt in the morning passed through him.
Only this time, it was shockingly strong.
And then one memory came to mind... It was a very old memory that he had never imagined would still remain.
[Go away! I don’t want to see you!]
When was that? Arkan thought. It must have been not long after his brother died.
It was when he went to comfort his mother, who was depressed every day unlike before, and sobbed no matter what she did.
She pushed Arkan and shouted. The maid behind him, probably the Marchioness of Fiddler’s, was there.
Anyway, thanks to someone holding him back, he was able to avoid falling down violently, but Arkan’s heart was not like that.
Something seemed to be crumbling inside his chest and head, and he could actually hear it.
The feeling he had at that time was exactly the same as now.
Regret... Yes, that was it. He was so resentful and hurt that all the energy in his body was drained.
Arkan closed the novel he had been reading loudly.
Then he threw it down on the table and stood up abruptly.
Erdene looked up, bewildered by his suddenly sharp reaction.
“What is it?”
“I can’t read a book like this. It’s fun to read when you’re relaxed, but right now, I don’t think even the words are coming into my eyes.”
“Why are you suddenly like that?”
“Well, I’ll think about it, so why don’t you think about it too?”
Arkan, whose lips were quivering, glanced at the thick tactics book still on Erdene’s lap. It suddenly looked so clean and undamaged despite all the pounding, and he couldn’t stand it.
“If you don’t want to think about it, read your favorite tactics book. I’ll leave, so that’s good. Why don’t you call your favorite adjutant and read it together? What’s the point of missing me when I leave?”
Arkan, who had been sarcastic as much as he could, left the study with the hem of his cloak fluttering.
Erdene was dumbfounded as if Arkan had slapped her, and only belatedly turned her head in the direction he had left.
The door hadn’t even closed, so she could see the hallway clearly.
“I should have just bit his finger off.”
Erdene muttered.
Pelerhar had heard the sound of thumping footsteps approaching from outside long before Arkan opened the door and barged in.
“I don’t know who could be so impudent.”
His close aide, Imeon, glared at the door with a displeased expression.
Imeon, who had just recently become an apprentice aide, was a young man of nineteen and had been serving Pelarhar since he was very young.
As such, Pelarhar treated him as if he were a younger brother who was a bit timid.
Pelarhar replied with a laugh as he trimmed his nails.
“That’s right. There must be no one who doesn’t know that this is my home, and I don’t know who can be so impudent.”
“I’ll go out and beat you up.”
Arkan thought. He couldn’t remember a single thing Erdene was talking about.
What was this talk of reorganizing the knights, and what was a Duke?
‘Isn’t this another headache?’
Arkan touched his forehead for a moment and looked at Erdene.
“Duke? What do you mean? Which Duke are you talking about?”
“Pelarhar, Your Majesty’s cousin. The Duke of Sonetum.”
Arkan was even more confused.
“Pelarhar? No, why is Pelarhar here?”
Erdene explained.
“After watching the adjutants’ training this morning, I thought that the Knights of Vetor were very inefficiently organized. Even the captains leading the soldiers were not utilizing their talents or strengths at all. That’s why I thought we should reorganize the Knights.”
“I understand. But I wonder why the story of Pelarhar is being brought up.”
“He was at the parade ground. He must have come to watch the training. I thought he had already done so when he said he would talk to His Majesty after talking about the Knights."
Arkan slumped his shoulders as if he was disappointed. Erdene’s explanation was clear and concise, but the most important question was still unanswered.
“Yes, I understand the story of the Knights. But why didn’t you... tell me directly? Why did you try to talk to me through Pelarhar?”
Erdene said nonchalantly.
“I thought Your Majesty wouldn’t listen if I told you. The Duke also said it would be better if he tried to make a fortune himself.”
At that moment, Arkan shuddered invisibly at the familiar feeling that came over him.
The same unpleasant, heart-pounding sensation he had felt in the morning passed through him.
Only this time, it was shockingly strong.
And then one memory came to mind... It was a very old memory that he had never imagined would still remain.
[Go away! I don’t want to see you!]
When was that? Arkan thought. It must have been not long after his brother died.
It was when he went to comfort his mother, who was depressed every day unlike before, and sobbed no matter what she did.
She pushed Arkan and shouted. The maid behind him, probably the Marchioness of Fiddler’s, was there.
Anyway, thanks to someone holding him back, he was able to avoid falling down violently, but Arkan’s heart was not like that.
Something seemed to be crumbling inside his chest and head, and he could actually hear it.
The feeling he had at that time was exactly the same as now.
Regret... Yes, that was it. He was so resentful and hurt that all the energy in his body was drained.
Arkan closed the novel he had been reading loudly.
Then he threw it down on the table and stood up abruptly.
Erdene looked up, bewildered by his suddenly sharp reaction.
“What is it?”
“I can’t read a book like this. It’s fun to read when you’re relaxed, but right now, I don’t think even the words are coming into my eyes.”
“Why are you suddenly like that?”
“Well, I’ll think about it, so why don’t you think about it too?”
Arkan, whose lips were quivering, glanced at the thick tactics book still on Erdene’s lap. It suddenly looked so clean and undamaged despite all the pounding, and he couldn’t stand it.
“If you don’t want to think about it, read your favorite tactics book. I’ll leave, so that’s good. Why don’t you call your favorite adjutant and read it together? What’s the point of missing me when I leave?”
Arkan, who had been sarcastic as much as he could, left the study with the hem of his cloak fluttering.
Erdene was dumbfounded as if Arkan had slapped her, and only belatedly turned her head in the direction he had left.
The door hadn’t even closed, so she could see the hallway clearly.
“I should have just bit his finger off.”
Erdene muttered.
***
Pelerhar had heard the sound of thumping footsteps approaching from outside long before Arkan opened the door and barged in.
“I don’t know who could be so impudent.”
His close aide, Imeon, glared at the door with a displeased expression.
Imeon, who had just recently become an apprentice aide, was a young man of nineteen and had been serving Pelarhar since he was very young.
As such, Pelarhar treated him as if he were a younger brother who was a bit timid.
Pelarhar replied with a laugh as he trimmed his nails.
“That’s right. There must be no one who doesn’t know that this is my home, and I don’t know who can be so impudent.”
“I’ll go out and beat you up.”
Imeon clenched his fists and strode toward the door. His long legs stretched out smoothly.
“Ugh!”
Imeon screamed the moment the door opened.
Then Pelarhar, who had been watching with excitement behind him, tilted his head and burst into laughter.
“Your Majesty! I’ll meet you, Your Majesty.”
Imeon, his face pale, quickly bowed and looked at Pelarhar.
Even as Pelarhar continued to giggle, he noticed that Arkan’s mind was firmly set.
“Hmm, it looks like they’re having another fight.”
Pelarhar said.
“Imeon, go get the tea and the chessboard. Your Majesty, it seems, has come to repay the last match of last year.”
“Yes? Oh, yes.”
“Ugh!”
Imeon screamed the moment the door opened.
Then Pelarhar, who had been watching with excitement behind him, tilted his head and burst into laughter.
“Your Majesty! I’ll meet you, Your Majesty.”
Imeon, his face pale, quickly bowed and looked at Pelarhar.
Even as Pelarhar continued to giggle, he noticed that Arkan’s mind was firmly set.
“Hmm, it looks like they’re having another fight.”
Pelarhar said.
“Imeon, go get the tea and the chessboard. Your Majesty, it seems, has come to repay the last match of last year.”
“Yes? Oh, yes.”
Imeon rushed out. Arkan just stared at Pelarhar as if wondering what on earth he was talking about. He stood there as if he had lost his way, even though the door closed behind him.
Meanwhile, Pelarhar put down his nail file and pulled out a long pipe.
The shiny white tobacco case, with its wavy blue pattern, was small, perhaps a fingertip’s length, and the spout was a luxurious thing, decorated with amber and ivory.
Pelarhar put some tobacco in it and lit it.
He watched the pale smoke rise with pleasure and said.
“How is it? I bought it when I stopped by the Duchy of Stradhog. It seems like this kind of thing is popular again there these days. They must have been used two hundred years ago, but they are quite stylishly made.”
Arkan, who was staring at Pelarhar, who was smoking leisurely, approached him.
He quickly snatched the pipe away, turned the tube upside down, and emptied everything inside into a silver ashtray.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
Arkan did not answer the question and held the pipe tightly.
For a moment, he thought about breaking it... but he put it back down with a boiling sigh.
“Why, again?”
“Why are you doing this?”
Arkan suddenly raised his voice. At that very moment, Imeon came in with another servant, bringing tea and a chessboard.
They were so surprised that they forgot to be polite and looked back and forth between Pelarhar and Arkan.
They wondered who on earth had shouted.
“Imeon.”
Pelarhar snapped his fingers and tapped the table.
The servants then hurriedly poured tea as if their butts were on fire, prepared the chessboard, and disappeared outside.
Pelerhar said,
“I don’t know why you’re angry, but please sit down.”
Arkan took a deep breath, roughly tossing his bangs back, and sat down across from him.
Pelarhar lit a new cigarette, took a long drag, and exhaled, setting up the chess pieces one by one.
“This carefree brat.”
Arkan glared at Pelarhar with a sour expression and crossed his arms.
“When were you going to talk about the Knights?”
Pelarhar’s hand holding the bishop paused in midair.
He had forgotten to smoke, and a thin stream of smoke was flowing out between his lips. He put down his horse and asked,
“What are you talking about?”
“Are you going to pretend not to know? I'm talking about reorganizing the Knights or something.”
Only then did Pelarhar realize why Arkan was so angry, and why he had stormed in here. He had thought Arkan had fought Erdene again, but that was not the case. Arkan was angry with him. He slowly lowered himself from the table, holding his pipe in one hand.
“Oh, that’s what it was? I was going to tell you tonight.”
Arkan’s stomach turned again at his calm response—it seemed like it was time to return to the same place, but it didn’t—but he held his patience.
He could endure for quite some time, even when he was quite angry.
If it wasn’t Erdene.
“Why did the Queen discuss that with you?”
“No, to be exact... she didn’t discuss it with me.”
“You said it would be better to tell me. You said that, and the Queen agreed. Didn’t you?”
“That’s true... Does that matter?”
“You say it is?”
Pelarhar took a deep breath, spat out a glob of water, and turned his head away.
The smoke streaming from between his lips was ghostly.
“What’s the problem? I would indeed have spoken better. If Her Majesty had just told you that she was forming a new order, would you have agreed?”
Meanwhile, Pelarhar put down his nail file and pulled out a long pipe.
The shiny white tobacco case, with its wavy blue pattern, was small, perhaps a fingertip’s length, and the spout was a luxurious thing, decorated with amber and ivory.
Pelarhar put some tobacco in it and lit it.
He watched the pale smoke rise with pleasure and said.
“How is it? I bought it when I stopped by the Duchy of Stradhog. It seems like this kind of thing is popular again there these days. They must have been used two hundred years ago, but they are quite stylishly made.”
Arkan, who was staring at Pelarhar, who was smoking leisurely, approached him.
He quickly snatched the pipe away, turned the tube upside down, and emptied everything inside into a silver ashtray.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
Arkan did not answer the question and held the pipe tightly.
For a moment, he thought about breaking it... but he put it back down with a boiling sigh.
“Why, again?”
“Why are you doing this?”
Arkan suddenly raised his voice. At that very moment, Imeon came in with another servant, bringing tea and a chessboard.
They were so surprised that they forgot to be polite and looked back and forth between Pelarhar and Arkan.
They wondered who on earth had shouted.
“Imeon.”
Pelarhar snapped his fingers and tapped the table.
The servants then hurriedly poured tea as if their butts were on fire, prepared the chessboard, and disappeared outside.
Pelerhar said,
“I don’t know why you’re angry, but please sit down.”
Arkan took a deep breath, roughly tossing his bangs back, and sat down across from him.
Pelarhar lit a new cigarette, took a long drag, and exhaled, setting up the chess pieces one by one.
“This carefree brat.”
Arkan glared at Pelarhar with a sour expression and crossed his arms.
“When were you going to talk about the Knights?”
Pelarhar’s hand holding the bishop paused in midair.
He had forgotten to smoke, and a thin stream of smoke was flowing out between his lips. He put down his horse and asked,
“What are you talking about?”
“Are you going to pretend not to know? I'm talking about reorganizing the Knights or something.”
Only then did Pelarhar realize why Arkan was so angry, and why he had stormed in here. He had thought Arkan had fought Erdene again, but that was not the case. Arkan was angry with him. He slowly lowered himself from the table, holding his pipe in one hand.
“Oh, that’s what it was? I was going to tell you tonight.”
Arkan’s stomach turned again at his calm response—it seemed like it was time to return to the same place, but it didn’t—but he held his patience.
He could endure for quite some time, even when he was quite angry.
If it wasn’t Erdene.
“Why did the Queen discuss that with you?”
“No, to be exact... she didn’t discuss it with me.”
“You said it would be better to tell me. You said that, and the Queen agreed. Didn’t you?”
“That’s true... Does that matter?”
“You say it is?”
Pelarhar took a deep breath, spat out a glob of water, and turned his head away.
The smoke streaming from between his lips was ghostly.
“What’s the problem? I would indeed have spoken better. If Her Majesty had just told you that she was forming a new order, would you have agreed?”
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