Chapter 23 - The Resolve of the Marquis's Son, Kurtfried
A soft knock echoed in the room.
"Master Meiros."
At the lady-in-waiting's voice, Arveil responded with a "Yes."
"Master Hazen—Master Kurtfried Hazen has arrived. Will you see him?"
"Yes, I am ready at any time."
Answering, Arveil stood up.
"Then, I shall guide you."
Along with the lady-in-waiting's voice, the sound of a key turning was heard, and the door was opened. There was the lady-in-waiting who had brought his meals three times a day and tidied the room during his roughly three days of house arrest, and one large retainer wearing a sword.
Whether it was during service or cleaning, the lady-in-waiting never entered the room alone; this retainer was always stuck to her. Arveil had no intention of complaining about that. Rather, he accepted it as a matter of course. He even found Viscount Redan's attitude, treating him as a guest of sorts while paying attention to the safety of the servants, to be favorable.
The lady-in-waiting, who said she would guide him, walked ahead, and Arveil and the retainer followed behind her.
"It must have been hard work for you as well."
The words thrown at him by the retainer walking beside him were a bit unexpected for Arveil. To think he would be spoken to with words of sympathy, rather than being shunned as someone who brought trouble.
"No, the same to you."
Even though there were shifts, if they were monitoring him, they had to remain constantly alert. Even if the side being monitored was just idly passing the time, they couldn't relax their surveillance.
"Well, for us, this is our job, you see."
"In that case, we're in the same boat, I suppose."
At Arveil's reply, the retainer chuckled softly.
"Jobs we were both told to do by our masters, eh? The Viscount was praising you quite a bit. Said you had great guts for someone so young. And from the looks of it, you seem quite capable."
"I served as an assistant and guard for the Marquis's daughter."
"No wonder. Even here in Redan, we hear rumors of the young lady. If you're her assistant and guard, it stands to reason your guts and martial skills would be appropriate. I'd certainly like to have a match with you once, but—"
This time it was Arveil's turn to chuckle softly.
"I would like to save that for another opportunity."
From the retainer's bearing, it was easy to imagine that he was well-versed in martial arts. It wasn't that he didn't have a personal interest in what would happen if they had a match, but that was not what he should be doing now.
The retainer didn't seem offended by Arveil's reply and laughed brightly.
"I suppose so. Then, once everything is settled, Master Meiros. I am Farhalen. Willem Farhalen."
"Once things are settled, Master Farhalen."
Arveil crossed his left arm against the right arm that the retainer—Willem—held up with a grinning face. It was a greeting between warriors who fought side-by-side on the battlefield.
※ ※ ※ ※ ※
When the lady-in-waiting knocked on the door of the room, there was a reply from inside saying, "Come in." It was Kurtfried's voice.
The lady-in-waiting and Arveil, who opened the door, gave a bow from the waist, and Willem took a knight's salute.
Kurtfried, dressed in formal attire, acknowledged them with a nod, looking at the lady-in-waiting and Willem. It was a perfectly natural gesture possible only for someone accustomed to leading others.
Once Willem and the lady-in-waiting left the room and closed the door, Kurtfried suddenly relaxed his posture. If anything, even his expression changed to a gentle one.
"I'm glad you were able to successfully secure the promise of a joint struggle, Arveil."
His casual tone and face that seemed to smile softly were things he didn't show to anyone in the royal capital except Ariarein and a few very close subordinates.
"Thank you, young master. I am glad above all that both you and the young lady are safe."
"I heard about the story of my marrying into this family from Sister on the ship. She apologized a lot. Said she was sorry she couldn't let me inherit the Marquis house."
"That is—"
Arveil was at a loss for words. If it hadn't been for the annulment of his older sister Ariarein's engagement, and if there hadn't been the exile, it should have been Kurtfried who succeeded Randolph and settled in as the next head of the Marquis house.
"Well, to be honest, I had a heavy heart about it. I'm actually more relieved. I don't have the caliber for a Marquis, you see, especially when I look at Father or Sister. I thought if Sister was going to be Queen, well, we're the only two siblings, so it couldn't be helped, I guess."
Kurtfried was still fifteen. If compared to his sister who was two years older, it was unavoidable that he would seem inferior. Even so, considering his future potential, he was more than clever enough, and in martial arts, he already managed to snatch a victory from Arveil once every three times. His likable personality without any sharp edges might even be a superior trait compared to Ariarein.
"—That is not true. You have your own merits, young master."
"—That's so like you, Arveil."
Hearing Arveil's words, Kurtfried laughed amusedly.
"Don't get me wrong, I really think so. And I think that's your merit too. I told Sister too, but I want you both not to worry about it. Being a son-in-law of a Viscount house probably suits my nature better than being the head of a Marquis house. That's what I think."
He had an eye for people, a gentle personality that attracted others, and he never spared any effort in anything. Arveil thought that alone exceeded the standard required for someone who stands above others.
But Kurtfried had grown up always watching his sister, who was two years older and hailed as the greatest talent since the founding of the Marquis house.
—Is it because he knows the young lady's talent and effort?
An outrage born from not trying to know the young lady's excellent parts. A distortion born from having watched her from close by since childhood.
"Well, I think Sister is just as much not the caliber for a Queen as I am not the caliber for a Marquis."
At the unexpected words, Arveil furrowed his brow. At that change in expression, Kurtfried grinned.
"Sister, you see, isn't a Queen. She's the caliber of a King."
At Arveil, who unintentionally let out a small smile, Kurtfried wore a satisfied expression.
"You think so too, don't you, Arveil? She's not the type to support someone, she's the type to lead while being supported by everyone. —Because she's Sister, after all."
Ah, I see, Arveil thought. It was a concise and accurate evaluation that could only be made by a younger brother who had been close to her since childhood.
"Yes, exactly, young master."
"I will support the young lady of this house, this house, and Sister from here. So, Arveil."
"Yes."
Kurtfried, his smile gone, stared straight into Arveil's eyes. A hand was placed on his shoulder, and a tiny bit of strength was put into that hand.
"You stay by Sister's side and support her."
"—Yes."
It's handover time from the young master to the retainer.