He stared silently down at the still tip of his pen for a moment. The ink from the wick was spreading, leaving an unsightly stain on the surface of the letter.
He crumpled it dryly and set it aside, and the man continued speaking worriedly.
"But it seemed like that wolf was the reason for the negative rumors about Her Highness the Grand Duchess. There also seemed to be frequent friction with the Grand Duke's vassals."
Barcas frowned as he opened the drawer and took out a new piece of paper.
"Friction?"
"Oh, it wasn't that serious a conflict. However, that wolf guy was so aggressive... I think the soldiers felt fear."
He scratched the back of his head and answered vaguely.
Barcas set the door on fire.
"Is that monster causing harm to those around it?"
"No, I watched him closely while he was in Kalmor, but he just bared his teeth and scared everyone around him."
The man denied it urgently.
"He was incredibly protective and possessive towards his master. He seemed to absolutely hate anyone approaching Her Highness the Grand Duchess. He was very well-behaved as long as you didn't get too close to Her Highness. He followed Her Highness very well. He was also very clever, so he didn't seem like he would attack people without warning."
The man who had been spouting off words as if he were defending himself took a breath for a moment and then added quietly.
"However, because it is so large... the problem is that just growling can be a threat to the lives of those around it."
Barcas looked down at the pile of letters on one side of his desk with pensive eyes.
He, too, had some inkling that the dire wolf was causing trouble. Reports containing indirect complaints about the dire wolf had begun to arrive from the subordinates he had attached to her for her safety.
And his reply to that was always the same.
If he appears to be a threat or poses a direct threat to those around her, use force to subdue him. However, if he does not cause any actual harm, leave him alone.
The fact that the wolf's head is still in place means that, at least so far, it hasn't attacked anyone.
So, he had no intention of taking any action right away.
Barcas can easily tolerate the complaints of priests and retainers about raising monsters. If she's happy, what difference does it make if she's raising a demon child instead of a monster?
As long as Thalia gets better...
In that instant, the image of her sobbing in the light flashed through his mind like a seared imprint.
He quickly shook off the afterimages flickering on his retina and gave the order to leave in a somewhat cold tone.
"If you're done chatting, then you should probably back off. We need to get out of the canyon before the sun sets."
"No, Your Excellency asked me..."
The man who had been muttering in discontent sighed in resignation and turned toward the entrance. Then, as if remembering something, he stopped walking and held something out to him.
"I almost forgot. I came here to tell you this."
He narrowed his eyes, looking down at the scroll of parchment in the knight's hand.
"What?"
"This is a telegram from His Highness the Crown Prince."
He accepted the scroll with a blank expression.
The telegram contained a rather direct proposal, written in the clerk's characteristically neat handwriting, to participate in the siege of Blodar.
Barcas, who was scanning it with a cold gaze, stopped at the words written at the end of the document.
[ Remember the oath you took. ]
He stared at it intently, then placed the letter on the candle. Then he nodded at Edric Rubon, who looked astonished.
"If you're done with your business, then go now."
The man, who had been opening his lips as if to say something, left the barracks in silence.
Barcas loosened the collar around his uniform, which was tightening like a noose.
The letters on the parchment, which was slowly shrinking in the candlelight, wriggled like small insects.
After looking at it for a while, he put the dried-up quill back into the inkwell.
There will be no need for a siege or a battle with the Amazigh. If the Emperor proposes a meeting, the Eastern Alliance will open its doors wide to welcome the Imperial forces.
Still, to appease the whining Gareth, he has to show some sincerity, such as moving the troops.
At the end of his letter to his vassals, Barkas sealed it with wax, stating that he would return before the end of the summer.
By the time this reached Raedgo Castle, the course of the war would be decided. He was determined to make it so, somehow.
***
A pale light poured down upon the ash-bleached world. As he stood alone at the entrance to the pristine white garden, a ghostly, pale woman reached out a hand that was white and vein-filled.
"Why are you just standing there? Come here."
He looked up at the dark-haired woman standing with her back to the sunlight. No. Maybe she wasn't even black-haired.
He had never seen this woman's true colors. Even in a world stained in black and white, he could only clearly perceive her as a figure with distinct light and dark.
The woman urged him gently, a gentle smile on her lips.
"You don't have to worry. It's safe here."
It was a tone of voice that seemed to calm a timid animal.
He slowly entered the garden. A marble pavilion appeared between the neatly trimmed shrubs.
On a long chair beneath it, two small children were sitting close together, staring intently at the group with their large eyes.
The woman spoke proudly, wrapping both arms around the shoulders of the two children.
"Greetings. These are my children. They are like cousins to you."
He approached the pavilion and gazed blankly at the young siblings. Both had light-colored hair and large eyes, but their expressions were strikingly different.
The boy looked very upset about something, and the girl with pigtails looked like she was about to burst into tears at any moment.
He looked at the girl's tearful face with a puzzled gaze. Then, the girl, whose chubby cheeks had been puckering, suddenly burst into a shrill cry.
“Ayla.”
The woman hurriedly picked up her daughter and patted her little back.
As he was quietly looking up at the sight, something sticky hit his body with a thud.
He turned his head. A dark-skinned boy was haphazardly dusting a piece of soggy cake on the table.
“I hate you! Get out!”
"Gareth! What are you doing!"
At the woman's cry, the maids who had been waiting on one side of the garden rushed over, surrounded the boy, and began to comfort him.
He waited for the chaos to subside, covered in sticky sugar lumps.
When the girl's crying finally subsided, the woman who had handed the young Princess over to the maid approached him.
"I'm truly sorry, Barcas."
Then she took out a handkerchief and wiped the sugar syrup and cream from his face. Her dark eyes sparkled with tears right before his nose.
"What do you think of this? I'll give Gareth a good scolding."
"...I'm fine."
The woman seemed to be feeling overly apologetic, so she opened his tightly shut lips.
Then the woman's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed.
The reaction was puzzling. What could possibly make them so happy?
"Now you're finally speaking. I was worried you'd never be able to speak again."
He frowned. He simply kept his mouth shut, feeling no need to speak. He never expected her to think he was mute.
"Come, follow me, and I'll give you new clothes."
The woman took his hand and pulled him with a smile so innocent it was hard to believe she was the Empress of the empire.
With each step he took following her, he saw his once small shadow grow longer. His once light footsteps gradually became heavier.
Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the large bedroom door, wearing a surcoat embroidered with the emblem of the Imperial Knights.
He was adjusting his clothes when he knocked lightly on the door with the back of his hand. Soon, a familiar voice came from inside.
“come in.”
As he pulled the doorknob, a cozy bedroom decorated with old wooden furniture and carpets unfolded before his eyes.
As he walked and looked around the room, his gaze stopped at the window.
As he sat in front of the terrace, blankly gazing out at the garden, a woman turned to look at him with a faint smile on her lips.
“Thank you for coming.”
At that moment, he smelled death.
"I heard you were going to volunteer."
The woman's smile vanished at the accusatory words. He added harshly to her pale face.
"Why did you do that?"
"I don't even know why I did that."
The woman muttered with a blank expression.
"Everyone said I did it... To be honest, I don't remember anything. When I came to, I was lying on the bed."
The empty eyes returned to the window again.
"...Why on earth did I do that? Did I expect him to regret seeing me die? Or did I hope he would realize my preciousness too late?"
When she muttered as if she were talking about someone else, the woman let out a hollow laugh.
"The maids surrounded me and cried out loud... but all I could do was look for that person's face. Don't you think I'm stupid?"
He made no reply.
The woman's face, reading the accusation in his silence, was distorted as if it were collapsing.
"You'll never understand me. When I first rescued you from there, I felt so sorry for you. I wanted to heal you somehow, to make you feel nothing."
"..."
"But now I'm so jealous of you."
What a good story. Thank you very much.
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