Max Rockefeller, a general officer in the Frogen Army's Intelligence Command, frowned at Noah as he arrived at the headquarters.
The general, with his dark brown hair, wore a black uniform laden with numerous medals, befitting his long career of military service and distinction. Despite his middle age, his sharp, determined gaze was sharp and powerful, befitting a man with extensive military experience.
He was a man who respected the former Duke, who was one of the leaders of the current military, and tried to protect his son, Noah.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
At his solemn tone of voice, Noah widened his eyes and smiled calmly.
“What are you saying, Commander?”
Commander Rockefeller's forehead wrinkled deeply as he looked at the colonel who pretended not to know anything.
“I’ve already heard everything. That you intend to bring back Admiral Belford’s daughter.”
“...As expected, Molly was a spy who infiltrated the world disguised as a maid. To spy on me.”
Noah sighed, lowering his head and touching his forehead. The general looked Noah up and down with his disapproving yellow eyes and sighed.
"I did that because I didn't know what kind of accident you might cause. I did everything I could to prevent what happened last time, but there's nothing I can do about this."
At his words, Noah narrowed his eyes and smiled.
“After all, there is no one else but my uncle.”
"Why am I your uncle? Call me by my proper title. I had no intention of becoming a soldier, but somehow..."
The commander lowered his eyelids in concern at the title of uncle.
'He's becoming more and more like His Excellency Rotsilt.'
He recalled Noah's father, General Noel Rotsilt, who had the same blue eyes and golden hair as Noah now. He was the heir to a prestigious family, and he had brought a silver-haired woman from the colonies, marrying her and causing a stir in Frogen.
The Duke and Duchess died in an accident, leaving behind Noah, who was not yet ten years old. The Duke often joked about this, as if he had foreseen his own death.
"Max. When I die, will you raise our son for me? Oh, I'm not asking you to remarry my wife."
The gentle, unserious voice of the former Imperial Commander-in-Chief still rings vividly in his mind. He was a man with a mad sense of execution, always getting things done. This guy is no different.
"Colonel Rotsilt. I promised your father I would protect your life. Why are you so obsessed with that woman?"
Noah was thinking about the message Diana had given him. It was a message asking him to tell her the truth. He had to respond.
Noah, who had been thinking silently, opened his mouth.
"We promised to get married. Of course, we'll date a bit more. We need time to get to know each other. Isn't this enough?"
Commander Rockefeller gaped, his mouth slightly open in bewilderment. "Why would you kidnap the daughter of an enemy general for no reason? This time, you're telling me you're going to get married, so you have to bring her back?"
He tapped the chair base with his hand and shook his head. He was determined to convince Noah somehow.
"How many times have you seen each other before you're getting married? I said absolutely not. The armistice negotiations are nearing their final stages, and if you bring the admiral's daughter back, there's a good chance they'll find fault with you and demand renegotiation."
At least it wouldn't end with just a disciplinary action. Despite the stern warning, Noah simply stared at him, offering no response.
"Wouldn't you be able to meet after the war? There's not much time left."
At the commander's added words, his face gradually became expressionless. Noah stood upright, placed his hand on his forehead, and saluted.
His hazy eyes were narrowed beneath a hand raised at a precise angle. The look was a clear expression of rejection.
After the young man, who had no idea where he was going, turned around and left, Commander Rockefeller turned his head and sighed.
“What can I do?”
He is a talent the Emperor cherishes yet guards against. Monarchs often cherish capable commanders who excel in battle.
He is also the man who could provide the greatest support to the current Crown Prince should he one day become Emperor. He could eventually become commander-in-chief of the empire's military, or even potentially ascend to the highest position, that of prime minister.
In the distant future, when the form of government completely changes, he might become the leader of a nation. Commander Rockefeller worried that the young talent who would lead Frogen in the future would become obsessed with small things and lose much.
Noah, who was walking down the hallway after leaving the commander's office, stopped and muttered quietly.
“What if she disappears in the meantime?”
As expected, I got lost in the deep forest because of this crazy horse. If a wolf shows up, I'll throw this damned 'Celine' as bait.
I looked around and sighed.
The endless rows of gray-brown birch trees with their white winter bark gave a sense of the depth of the forest.
The old horse was so exhausted that he couldn't even ride out of the forest. As the sun set and darkness descended, a biting cold and fear gripped me, making me shiver.
The forest was eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the wind rustling through the canopy and the occasional hoot of an owl. I leaned against the horse's side, steaming with its body heat, and huddled against the cold.
“I’m going to die because of you, Celine.”
The horse purred and chewed on my hair. Fatigue washed over me, pressing down on my eyelids. If I fell asleep like this, I might see the same ending as the dog of Flanders with that damned horse.
Every time I was overcome with despair and loneliness, there was someone I desperately wanted to see. It wasn't my parents who had left me nothing but wealth, my relatives who had sought it, or my pretentious friends.
When I closed my eyes for a moment, drawn into the deathly silence, what filled my vision was a thick wool uniform.
The fresh, freshly laundered scent that you might expect from a baby's clothes lingered before my nose.
The senses that had been drowsy and sleeping were awakening one by one, letting me know that 'I am not frozen to death and my body is warm.'
Only after blinking and coming to my senses did I realize I was being held by someone. It was Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal, with a scent that was completely out of place.
"Ah?"
“Are you awake?”
A familiar, low voice rang out. Ahead, a bonfire, lit at some unknown time, crackled and crackled. The lieutenant colonel removed his arm from around my shoulder, and I, with an awkward expression, let go of the embrace.
“Excuse me. I think I’ll die if I leave you like this.”
“Did you come looking for me?”
"Yes. Everyone dispersed and continued searching. Let's go now."
The righteous hero of a classic novel, whose hobby is seeking, smiled kindly. The shadows beneath his eyes, illuminated by the campfire, stretched long.
I got up from my seat, walked over to the horse that was lying limp, and patted its neck.
“Get up. Let’s go back.”
The horse, still exhausted, wouldn't rise from its perch. For an animal that can sleep standing up, it's sprawled out like this. It must have overworked itself.
"You're quite old and probably sick. Running seems impossible in the first place. How did you get here?"
The lieutenant colonel examined the old horse and slowly stroked its neck. The horse's head hung limply on the ground, as if it couldn't even lift its head.
“I gave it a little sugar and started driving, and suddenly it started running like crazy.”
“I don’t know where that strength came from. It must have been a cavalry horse.”
The lieutenant colonel, seeing the old scars here and there on the horse's body, tried to lift it by holding its neck, but was helpless.
"You're a retired soldier, aren't you? It was nice to run again after so long."
I couldn't bring myself to call Celine, so I approached him and asked. The horse purred and snorted. I chuckled and stroked its shaggy mane.
“You understand what I’m saying. You’re clever.”
“That’s right. Did it gain strength from the kind words you praised it for earlier?”
The lieutenant colonel, with a smile on his face, leaned over and looked at me, speaking in a friendly voice.
“Miss Diana. You have a beautiful heart.”
“Ugh.”
I almost hiccuped because I had never thought of that before.
I've only heard harsh criticisms like I'm calculating, two-faced, bad, selfish, and self-centered.
“I can’t leave you behind, so I’ll have to wait until it recovers on its own.”
The lieutenant colonel, who had been crouching beside the horse, stood up. He was a kind man.
“Yeah. Oh, I thought I was going to die from the cold.”
Feeling a pang of guilt, I spoke briefly and stretched my arms out toward the campfire. The warmth of the fire dispelled the lingering chill, sending pleasant goosebumps down my spine.
“Miss Diana.”
The lieutenant colonel called my name softly. I relaxed my hunched shoulders and turned my head toward him.
"Yes."
“Have you seen the article?”
"Yes. Well... I understand. Where can you find a good deed that comes purely from the heart? There's a purpose or benefit to it, so you do good deeds as much as you can within your means."
As the second son of a Duke, it must have been to secure the succession. Or perhaps to obtain a high position. At the almost certain answer, Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal lowered his eyes for a moment, leaving a blank space.
He continued speaking seriously, throwing a few more sticks into the fire.
“Yes, but your sister and I don’t have that kind of relationship.”
His tone was anxious and cautious, as if he were making an excuse. My intention was to address titles and status. As I glanced at him, somewhat bewildered by the unexpected excuse, the lieutenant colonel covered his mouth and coughed.
“Of course, I have no intention of becoming a Duke, nor do I have any desire for promotion.”
“You came to save me without any reason or request?”
“That’s not true. Perhaps it’s true that there’s a bigger reason.”
“Why did you come to save me?”
I asked bluntly. The lieutenant colonel's blue eyes were the color of a crimson bonfire.
“My mother was a Medea, and she had black hair like yours. You yourself know that you are a Medea half-blood.”
I don't know much about this body, and I don't have a portrait or photo of Madame Claire, who is listed as my mother in the original work, so I don't know much. However, I do know that she was blonde, like Celine. At the Frogen Imperial Ball, they mentioned that Medea's Princess Elita was actually related to me. I've always suspected she wasn't my biological mother. If I had biological parents, they would be Medea.
“You’re saying it was because the Duchess was Medea? That’s not very convincing.”
"When I first saw you, I was reminded of my mother, but there were other reasons as well. It was a promise I made to her, and it was also my own will. In any case, it wasn't the reason mentioned in the articles or gossip."
The lieutenant colonel's jet-black hair swayed slightly as he tried his best to explain. He rubbed his face as if washing it dry, seeming embarrassed.
“What is this promise... and what is your intention?”
At the question, which was asked in a raspy voice, his usually affectionate yet cool demeanor shifted into a defensive expression. The expression bordering on embarrassment quickly disappeared.
He regained his detailed expression and rubbed his knee with his hand.
“Do you remember what I said to you the day you were kidnapped?”
“Yes. You said you were curious.”
A faint smile appeared on the lieutenant colonel's lips at my answer.
"I've been interested in you since the moment I first saw you. I can't tell you what the promise is, but it's about protecting that promise and the lives of countless others."
The general, with his dark brown hair, wore a black uniform laden with numerous medals, befitting his long career of military service and distinction. Despite his middle age, his sharp, determined gaze was sharp and powerful, befitting a man with extensive military experience.
He was a man who respected the former Duke, who was one of the leaders of the current military, and tried to protect his son, Noah.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
At his solemn tone of voice, Noah widened his eyes and smiled calmly.
“What are you saying, Commander?”
Commander Rockefeller's forehead wrinkled deeply as he looked at the colonel who pretended not to know anything.
“I’ve already heard everything. That you intend to bring back Admiral Belford’s daughter.”
“...As expected, Molly was a spy who infiltrated the world disguised as a maid. To spy on me.”
Noah sighed, lowering his head and touching his forehead. The general looked Noah up and down with his disapproving yellow eyes and sighed.
"I did that because I didn't know what kind of accident you might cause. I did everything I could to prevent what happened last time, but there's nothing I can do about this."
At his words, Noah narrowed his eyes and smiled.
“After all, there is no one else but my uncle.”
"Why am I your uncle? Call me by my proper title. I had no intention of becoming a soldier, but somehow..."
The commander lowered his eyelids in concern at the title of uncle.
'He's becoming more and more like His Excellency Rotsilt.'
He recalled Noah's father, General Noel Rotsilt, who had the same blue eyes and golden hair as Noah now. He was the heir to a prestigious family, and he had brought a silver-haired woman from the colonies, marrying her and causing a stir in Frogen.
The Duke and Duchess died in an accident, leaving behind Noah, who was not yet ten years old. The Duke often joked about this, as if he had foreseen his own death.
"Max. When I die, will you raise our son for me? Oh, I'm not asking you to remarry my wife."
The gentle, unserious voice of the former Imperial Commander-in-Chief still rings vividly in his mind. He was a man with a mad sense of execution, always getting things done. This guy is no different.
"Colonel Rotsilt. I promised your father I would protect your life. Why are you so obsessed with that woman?"
Noah was thinking about the message Diana had given him. It was a message asking him to tell her the truth. He had to respond.
Noah, who had been thinking silently, opened his mouth.
"We promised to get married. Of course, we'll date a bit more. We need time to get to know each other. Isn't this enough?"
Commander Rockefeller gaped, his mouth slightly open in bewilderment. "Why would you kidnap the daughter of an enemy general for no reason? This time, you're telling me you're going to get married, so you have to bring her back?"
He tapped the chair base with his hand and shook his head. He was determined to convince Noah somehow.
"How many times have you seen each other before you're getting married? I said absolutely not. The armistice negotiations are nearing their final stages, and if you bring the admiral's daughter back, there's a good chance they'll find fault with you and demand renegotiation."
At least it wouldn't end with just a disciplinary action. Despite the stern warning, Noah simply stared at him, offering no response.
"Wouldn't you be able to meet after the war? There's not much time left."
At the commander's added words, his face gradually became expressionless. Noah stood upright, placed his hand on his forehead, and saluted.
His hazy eyes were narrowed beneath a hand raised at a precise angle. The look was a clear expression of rejection.
After the young man, who had no idea where he was going, turned around and left, Commander Rockefeller turned his head and sighed.
“What can I do?”
He is a talent the Emperor cherishes yet guards against. Monarchs often cherish capable commanders who excel in battle.
He is also the man who could provide the greatest support to the current Crown Prince should he one day become Emperor. He could eventually become commander-in-chief of the empire's military, or even potentially ascend to the highest position, that of prime minister.
In the distant future, when the form of government completely changes, he might become the leader of a nation. Commander Rockefeller worried that the young talent who would lead Frogen in the future would become obsessed with small things and lose much.
Noah, who was walking down the hallway after leaving the commander's office, stopped and muttered quietly.
“What if she disappears in the meantime?”
***
As expected, I got lost in the deep forest because of this crazy horse. If a wolf shows up, I'll throw this damned 'Celine' as bait.
I looked around and sighed.
The endless rows of gray-brown birch trees with their white winter bark gave a sense of the depth of the forest.
The old horse was so exhausted that he couldn't even ride out of the forest. As the sun set and darkness descended, a biting cold and fear gripped me, making me shiver.
The forest was eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the wind rustling through the canopy and the occasional hoot of an owl. I leaned against the horse's side, steaming with its body heat, and huddled against the cold.
“I’m going to die because of you, Celine.”
The horse purred and chewed on my hair. Fatigue washed over me, pressing down on my eyelids. If I fell asleep like this, I might see the same ending as the dog of Flanders with that damned horse.
Every time I was overcome with despair and loneliness, there was someone I desperately wanted to see. It wasn't my parents who had left me nothing but wealth, my relatives who had sought it, or my pretentious friends.
When I closed my eyes for a moment, drawn into the deathly silence, what filled my vision was a thick wool uniform.
The fresh, freshly laundered scent that you might expect from a baby's clothes lingered before my nose.
The senses that had been drowsy and sleeping were awakening one by one, letting me know that 'I am not frozen to death and my body is warm.'
Only after blinking and coming to my senses did I realize I was being held by someone. It was Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal, with a scent that was completely out of place.
"Ah?"
“Are you awake?”
A familiar, low voice rang out. Ahead, a bonfire, lit at some unknown time, crackled and crackled. The lieutenant colonel removed his arm from around my shoulder, and I, with an awkward expression, let go of the embrace.
“Excuse me. I think I’ll die if I leave you like this.”
“Did you come looking for me?”
"Yes. Everyone dispersed and continued searching. Let's go now."
The righteous hero of a classic novel, whose hobby is seeking, smiled kindly. The shadows beneath his eyes, illuminated by the campfire, stretched long.
I got up from my seat, walked over to the horse that was lying limp, and patted its neck.
“Get up. Let’s go back.”
The horse, still exhausted, wouldn't rise from its perch. For an animal that can sleep standing up, it's sprawled out like this. It must have overworked itself.
"You're quite old and probably sick. Running seems impossible in the first place. How did you get here?"
The lieutenant colonel examined the old horse and slowly stroked its neck. The horse's head hung limply on the ground, as if it couldn't even lift its head.
“I gave it a little sugar and started driving, and suddenly it started running like crazy.”
“I don’t know where that strength came from. It must have been a cavalry horse.”
The lieutenant colonel, seeing the old scars here and there on the horse's body, tried to lift it by holding its neck, but was helpless.
"You're a retired soldier, aren't you? It was nice to run again after so long."
I couldn't bring myself to call Celine, so I approached him and asked. The horse purred and snorted. I chuckled and stroked its shaggy mane.
“You understand what I’m saying. You’re clever.”
“That’s right. Did it gain strength from the kind words you praised it for earlier?”
The lieutenant colonel, with a smile on his face, leaned over and looked at me, speaking in a friendly voice.
“Miss Diana. You have a beautiful heart.”
“Ugh.”
I almost hiccuped because I had never thought of that before.
I've only heard harsh criticisms like I'm calculating, two-faced, bad, selfish, and self-centered.
“I can’t leave you behind, so I’ll have to wait until it recovers on its own.”
The lieutenant colonel, who had been crouching beside the horse, stood up. He was a kind man.
“Yeah. Oh, I thought I was going to die from the cold.”
Feeling a pang of guilt, I spoke briefly and stretched my arms out toward the campfire. The warmth of the fire dispelled the lingering chill, sending pleasant goosebumps down my spine.
“Miss Diana.”
The lieutenant colonel called my name softly. I relaxed my hunched shoulders and turned my head toward him.
"Yes."
“Have you seen the article?”
"Yes. Well... I understand. Where can you find a good deed that comes purely from the heart? There's a purpose or benefit to it, so you do good deeds as much as you can within your means."
As the second son of a Duke, it must have been to secure the succession. Or perhaps to obtain a high position. At the almost certain answer, Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal lowered his eyes for a moment, leaving a blank space.
He continued speaking seriously, throwing a few more sticks into the fire.
“Yes, but your sister and I don’t have that kind of relationship.”
His tone was anxious and cautious, as if he were making an excuse. My intention was to address titles and status. As I glanced at him, somewhat bewildered by the unexpected excuse, the lieutenant colonel covered his mouth and coughed.
“Of course, I have no intention of becoming a Duke, nor do I have any desire for promotion.”
“You came to save me without any reason or request?”
“That’s not true. Perhaps it’s true that there’s a bigger reason.”
“Why did you come to save me?”
I asked bluntly. The lieutenant colonel's blue eyes were the color of a crimson bonfire.
“My mother was a Medea, and she had black hair like yours. You yourself know that you are a Medea half-blood.”
I don't know much about this body, and I don't have a portrait or photo of Madame Claire, who is listed as my mother in the original work, so I don't know much. However, I do know that she was blonde, like Celine. At the Frogen Imperial Ball, they mentioned that Medea's Princess Elita was actually related to me. I've always suspected she wasn't my biological mother. If I had biological parents, they would be Medea.
“You’re saying it was because the Duchess was Medea? That’s not very convincing.”
"When I first saw you, I was reminded of my mother, but there were other reasons as well. It was a promise I made to her, and it was also my own will. In any case, it wasn't the reason mentioned in the articles or gossip."
The lieutenant colonel's jet-black hair swayed slightly as he tried his best to explain. He rubbed his face as if washing it dry, seeming embarrassed.
“What is this promise... and what is your intention?”
At the question, which was asked in a raspy voice, his usually affectionate yet cool demeanor shifted into a defensive expression. The expression bordering on embarrassment quickly disappeared.
He regained his detailed expression and rubbed his knee with his hand.
“Do you remember what I said to you the day you were kidnapped?”
“Yes. You said you were curious.”
A faint smile appeared on the lieutenant colonel's lips at my answer.
"I've been interested in you since the moment I first saw you. I can't tell you what the promise is, but it's about protecting that promise and the lives of countless others."
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