Akershus Fortress—the lord’s castle of Oslo—stood upon the shore, ancient beyond measure.

  It was said to have existed even before the Age of the Gods. Rising above the coast, it seemed to watch the bay alongside its guards, surveying every merchant vessel that came and went, while keeping the town behind it under constant vigilance.

  After Ga’s disastrous haircut had been dealt with, Robert Schmitz and his wife traveled by carriage to Akershus Fortress.

  As they approached the gates, an unfamiliar canine howl rang out, long and echoing, as if announcing the arrival of visitors. Soon enough, a steward and two guards emerged to receive them with courtesy and led them inside.

  They passed through a long corridor and stopped before the doors of the audience chamber. As they had not yet been summoned, the doors remained closed. While they waited, the steward chatted quietly with Robert and Jana.

  Ga noticed a maid standing beside the doors, cloaked in a long mantle. The woman stood silently with her head lowered, her presence unusually cold and distant.

  “Oh! Welcome! Welcome!”

  Without warning, the doors burst open. A large, broad-shouldered man strode out with his arms wide, greeting them enthusiastically.

  This was Felix Thomsen, Count of Oslo. It was said that during the campaign to seize Oslo, he had personally fought on the front lines—his valor rivaling that of Viking berserkers. Among the Romans, he was hailed as a hero.

  The audience chamber was vast, filled with stone sculptures, ceramics, and paintings from Felix’s personal collection, as if the room itself were hosting an exhibition.

  Jana wandered among the artworks, admiring them with interest. Ga frowned at the strange pieces, staring in silence. Meanwhile, Robert and Felix spoke cheerfully.

  “Ha! Truly savage—like father, like child,” Felix laughed. “You get exactly the kind of children you’d expect from their parents.”

  Despite his noble title, Felix spoke without restraint, his manner open and boisterous. The teacup in his hand looked as though it might as well have been a mug of beer.

  “Indeed,” Robert replied with a wry smile. “To this day, I’m still grateful they didn’t catch me and roast me alive. I never imagined I’d have to come back and ask permission to return there again.”

  “My apologies!” Felix laughed. “At the time, I couldn’t think of anyone else to send. You looked harmless enough—who knew you’d still get surrounded and beaten?

  Now imagine this: if I’d sent Tabor to Sanvika, he’d come back saying, ‘We must slaughter every last Viking.’ Hahaha!”

  He even mimicked Tabor’s tone and gestures.

  “Oh, that man is truly unwell,” Robert said, deeply sympathetic.

  “Dangerously so. I already convinced the council to approve his honorable retirement—set him up for a comfortable life, money without lifting a finger. And yet he insists he still has some ‘mission’ to fulfill.”

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  “I hope he learns to let go,” Robert said, lifting his teacup.

  Just then, a commotion broke out beyond the chamber doors—footsteps and hurried voices, as if someone were being chased. The doors were pushed open, and a small boy burst in, both hands covered in wet clay, his face glowing with excitement. He ran straight to Felix and climbed onto his lap.

  Behind him, stewards and maids stood frozen in awkward embarrassment.

  “Daddy! I found you! Wasn’t I amazing?” the boy said proudly, nestling into Felix’s arms.

  “Very impressive,” Felix chuckled, rubbing his son’s head. “But weren’t you making pottery with your sisters?”

  “It’s tiring. I wanted a break—and I missed you.”

  “Haha! Missing me already after such a short while?”

  At that moment, the Countess entered the room and nodded politely to Robert and Jana.

  “Your father is speaking with the Director right now,” she said gently. “Let’s not disturb him. And look—you’ve gotten clay all over his clothes.

  If you leave your pot unfinished, it’ll crack. Go finish it and show it to your father properly.”

  “Oh! Okay!”

  The boy hopped down. “Daddy, I’ll finish it right away! Come see it later!”

  He waved at Robert. “Goodbye, Director!”

  “Goodbye. Keep it up,” Robert replied warmly.

  The Countess kissed Felix lightly on the cheek and led the boy away.

  As he passed, the boy waved at Jana. “Goodbye, Head Nurse!”

  “Take care,” Jana smiled.

  At the doorway, the boy suddenly stopped.

  His gaze had been caught by Ga.

  Ga’s emerald-green eyes shimmered faintly, and the boy froze, staring with open curiosity.

  Ga, too, found herself unable to look away, as if seized by the purity of his gaze.

  Seeing the two children locked in silence, Felix smiled.

  “Ah, their first time meeting,” he said. “My wife and children only moved here from the Roman interior last week.”

  Noticing the bandage on Ga’s head, the Countess offered a blessing.

  “May the gods grant you a swift recovery. You’re always welcome to visit us.”

  “Oh.”

  Ga merely nodded.

  “Then we’ll take our leave,” the Countess said. “My son, be polite—say goodbye

  “Mm! Goodbye!”

  The boy hesitated, then waved politely to Ga.

  Ga said nothing. She watched him quietly until mother and son disappeared hand in hand beyond the chamber doors.

  She stepped forward and stood in the doorway, gazing after them. A heavy emptiness pressed against her chest, hollow

  At that moment, Robert turned to Felix.

  “If you were to face the same fate as Tabor… do you think you could truly let it go?”

  Felix touched the cheek that had just been kissed and looked toward the artworks displayed around the room—some of them clearly created by his family together.

  “I can’t imagine the pain of losing those I love most,” he said slowly.

  “I believe it would… drive a man mad.”

  Robert nodded. “If you were to go mad as well, Oslo would surely fall into chaos.”

  “Haha! But our wise Emperor wouldn’t be foolish enough to entrust a city to a madman.”

  “Hmph—long live the Emperor,” Robert raised his hand and called out lightly, though he didn’t look particularly serious.

  “Long live the Emperor… all right, all of you, you may rise! I have no illusions of living that long myself—so long as Rome endures,” Felix replied, even adding an exaggerated imitation of a Roman emperor’s tone and gestures.

  The two of them couldn’t help but laugh like children.

  “But perhaps the Emperor never anticipated this—his appointed law enforcer in Oslo simply cannot overcome his inner demons. Tabor has no intention of coexisting peacefully with the Vikings. His hatred toward them has never faded. One day, that man might actually come with blade and axe in hand and take the head of someone like me, who also carries Viking blood.”

  “He doesn’t have what it takes! Facing a Norman warrior like you in a duel, he wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “Hahaha, you give me too much credit. That man is still an axe fighter trained in the Imperial capital—his strength is no joke. Hey, all right, all right. I won’t keep you any longer. We’ve reached the final stage now. I need to confirm what that child is thinking.”

  Felix turned his gaze toward Ga, who was standing by the doorway.