Chapter 212
The pale hand, thin enough that the veins showed beneath the skin, desperately pushed against his chest.
Varkas gathered both of her wrists into one hand and pressed her head firmly against his shoulder with the other.
How long they remained like that, he did not know.
Little by little, the strength drained from the body that had been taut as a drawn bowstring.
Only after she had completely exhausted herself and was left gasping for breath did he gently lay her back onto the bed.
He touched her forehead with the back of his hand.
Fortunately, she didn't seem to have developed a fever.
As he let out a quiet sigh, she lifted her tear-soaked eyelashes and glared at him.
"I hate you."
Varkas showed no reaction.
Lowering her eyes as though utterly drained, she murmured in a voice barely above a whisper,
"And... I hate myself even more."
* * *
Before long, the Season of Rest had deepened.
The training grounds lay frozen beneath a blanket of snow that had fallen throughout the night, while an icy wind swept across the white expanse.
Ignoring the biting cold, Lucas swung a wooden practice sword wearing nothing but a single Tunka over his bare upper body.
Suddenly, he looked up at the sky.
Gray clouds had swallowed the sun as though more snow was on its way.
He stared blankly upward until a lazy voice sounded nearby.
"So you truly don't remember how you were injured?"
Turning his head, he saw Baredon sitting atop the fence surrounding the training grounds, idly spinning a dagger in one hand.
Lucas let out an irritated sigh.
"How many times do I have to tell you? I don't remember."
"But you remember me, Lady Raina, and everyone else perfectly well."
Baredon tilted his head slightly.
Lucas, who had been striking the straw training dummy over and over, stopped and turned around.
"So you're saying I'm faking it?"
"Who said that? It's just... difficult to understand."
"I don't understand it either."
Fixing Baredon with a fierce glare, Lucas muttered in frustration,
"It feels [N O V E L I G H T] like someone rummaged through my head however they pleased. Bits and pieces come back... but then everything suddenly cuts off, as if something is blocking them. Especially..."
He fell silent.
He had been about to say that nearly all of his memories concerning the wolf that had attacked him—and the wolf's owner—were shrouded in fog.
For some reason, he found himself deeply unwilling to say those words aloud.
Running his fingers over the scar on the back of his neck, he looked toward the woodland path at the edge of the training grounds.
According to the soldiers, somewhere over there he had been attacked by the dire wolf raised by the Grand Duchess.
And she had fled with the wolf, leaving him behind to die.
He couldn't understand why every time he dwelled on that fact, it felt as though there were a gaping hole in his chest.
The only thing he remembered about that woman was the vague fact that the two of them had been on terrible terms.
He also dimly recalled several fierce arguments after Varkas had returned to the East.
Yet the woman's face itself remained hidden, as though concealed behind a veil.
Why had every memory of her vanished completely?
The question had barely formed in his mind when a sharp pain suddenly stabbed through his head.
Grabbing his temple, Lucas grimaced.
An instinctive sense of rejection swept through his entire body.
For some reason, it felt as though he absolutely must not remember anything about that woman.
"Are you all right?"
Seeing his face turn deathly pale, Baredon hurried over.
Lucas waved one hand dismissively.
"It's just a little dizziness. Stop making such a fuss."
"Didn't you overdo it and make yourself worse again? Even the High Priest told you to keep resting for a while."
"I spent more than a month trapped in bed. Isn't that enough rest?"
Lucas snapped irritably.
"If you're that worried about me, then stop bothering me and go do your own work. You already have your hands full covering my duties."
"I actually came to see when you'd be able to return. But judging by how you look... it'll be quite a while yet."
Baredon slid the dagger back into his belt and let out a heavy sigh.
Lucas gave a dry laugh.
"So that's why you kept interrogating me? To see whether I was pretending to be sick?"
"Considering the amount of work you usually handle, I thought it was a perfectly reasonable suspicion that perhaps you were acting in hopes of extending your vacation..."
Baredon was speaking with his usual shameless grin when he abruptly stopped.
A trumpet sounded from atop the castle walls, announcing the arrival of important guests.
Lucas turned toward the main gate.
Amid the thunder of horseshoes striking stone, five or six mounted riders entered the training grounds in perfect formation atop powerful warhorses.
Recognizing the crest of the Roem Knights embroidered on their cloaks, Lucas immediately tossed aside his practice sword and ran toward the gate.
"What brings you here?"
As he called out, the man riding at the front turned his head.
It was a familiar face.
Edrick Rubon.
He frequently visited Laedgo Castle as an imperial messenger.
Swinging down from his horse, Edrick offered a respectful bow.
"My apologies for arriving without notice. We've come to deliver His Majesty's message."
"His Majesty's message?"
Lucas looked at him questioningly.
Edrick nodded gravely.
"A popular uprising has broken out throughout the northern territories. The longer its suppression is delayed, the greater the risk that the unrest will spread. Therefore, His Majesty has ordered every lord throughout the Empire to dispatch reinforcements immediately."
The soldiers around them erupted into uneasy murmurs.
Looking around at everyone present, the imperial messenger raised his voice like a formal proclamation.
"The East is no exception. House Siorcan is hereby ordered to obey His Majesty's command and immediately join the suppression campaign!"
* * *
The Grand Duke finally appeared in the conference hall an hour after the emergency council had been convened.
Crossing the hall with his usual composed demeanor, Varkas took his seat at the head of the table.
The room, which had been buzzing with conversation, instantly fell silent.
Ever since the incident involving the dire wolf, the Grand Duke had secluded himself in the annex, handling all official business solely through written reports.
This was his first public appearance in nearly a month.
Naturally, many of his vassals watched him with unconcealed suspicion.
They seemed worried he might refuse the Emperor's command.
"Issue a general mobilization order across the East immediately. In addition, four thousand mounted lancers will be dispatched to the North."
Having carefully finished reading the Emperor's letter, Varkas finally spoke.
One of the imperial messengers seated at the far end of the table immediately sprang to his feet.
"His Majesty ordered an additional force of ten thousand soldiers!"
"House Siorcan has already deployed eight thousand cavalry to the North. With public order in the East already unstable, we cannot spare another ten thousand troops."
"But the East still possesses more than fifty thousand—"
"Sending another four thousand means nearly one quarter of our total military strength will already be committed to the North."
Varkas cut him off firmly.
"Any further demands are excessive. If His Majesty wishes to retain the loyalty of the East, tell him he should be satisfied with four thousand."
The faint threat hidden within those words caused every imperial messenger except Edrick Rubon to stiffen.
Varkas, however, paid them no attention.
Rising decisively to his feet, he made it clear that he would entertain no further objections.
Seeing this, Edrick hurriedly spoke.
"What should I tell His Majesty regarding his decree appointing Your Grace Supreme Commander of the Imperial Coalition Army?"
Those blue-gray eyes flicked toward him.
After a brief silence, Varkas answered in a calm, emotionless voice.
"Tell His Majesty that I accept the honor with deepest gratitude."
With those words, the Grand Duke left the conference hall once more.
Only after he disappeared did the suffocating tension finally ease.
As the vassals launched into heated arguments over the additional deployment of four thousand soldiers, the imperial messengers gradually rose from their seats.
Quietly observing everything from the end of the table, Baredon also stood.
The servants could have escorted them to their quarters, but he couldn't allow anyone to later claim that the Emperor's messengers had been treated carelessly.
Approaching the Roem Knights with his usual amiable manner, he said,
"Please follow me. I'll show you to your rooms."
"Thank you."
Edrick Rubon replied politely.
Baredon led them out of the hall.
Just then, a low voice drifted from the covered corridor connecting to the main keep.
"You there. Come here for a moment."
Turning around, Baredon's eyes widened.
Leaning against one of the corridor's pillars stood the Grand Duke.
Edrick Rubon pointed at himself.
"You mean me?"
"Yes."
Stepping out of the shadows, Varkas answered in his usual indifferent tone.
"I have a favor I'd like to ask of you."