“...”

  “...”

  Is he going to speak or what?

  Marcus stared blankly at the man in front of him. Captain Fritz Stiglitz had been strangely quiet since their carriage set out on its leisurely stroll through the city. Since then, Marcus had been analyzing the man in front of him.

  He was stiff, vigilant, and clearly threatened. Fritz had always been that way to Marcus. In fact, whenever he wore the white mask of the White Watch, this was how people regarded him. They would keep their distance and observe warily and defensively.

  Quite frankly, the only thing that made Marcus’s presence tolerable for people like Fritz must have been Stella’s words. She declared Marcus a good man, a guard, a hero, someone who saved her from certain death.

  But, Marcus imagined, to the eyes of people like Fritz, he didn’t look that way.

  Whatever. It’s not a big deal. At least they’ll keep their distance until our business is done. That’s all that matters anyway.

  “Would you like to give yourself a name at least?” Fritz asked, smiling politely. “Usually, when folks hide themselves behind a mask, they give themselves an alternative name.”

  “Not interested.”

  “Why so?”

  Marcus didn’t answer. Giving himself a name was quite frankly more pain than it was worth. People would actually try talking to him if he had a cover name. Standing around, being an intimidating presence, and being silent was good enough.

  After all, if you couldn’t even pinpoint who a certain ominous person was standing around you silently, why would you approach him? It was advantageous, Marcus thought.

  “Well…the princess seems to trust you so much.” Fritz looked to his side, watching from the side door’s windows as they passed through streets and buildings. “And I can tell that she’s not faking it. Those eyes of hers tell me enough; she looks up to you, doesn’t she?”

  “And what if she does?”

  “That means there’s more about you. You’re not just some faceless schmuck who’s a fraud.”

  “Why tell me all this?”

  Fritz smiled a bit, leaning back on his seat. Then, he procured a pipe. Probably to calm his nerves. With a mild application of fire magic after he placed tobacco leaves in it, it was ignited.

  Marcus was quite used to that smell. The officers and generals of the Imperial Army were always so fond of their cigars and pipes during the campaign that whenever he was in their command tents, he would smell the characteristic scent of burnt tobacco nine times out of ten.

  As Fritz let out a puff of smoke, he sighed.

  “We don't know how to deal with you, and we can’t ‘deal’ with you, because you’re under the protection of the princess. She’s a [Saint] too. We cannot act. But you, you sir, are a potential threat. Do you understand the headache you presented to me?”

  “Why, yes, of course.” A small chuckle came from Marcus. “You’ve been dealing with quite the conundrum for a while now, haven’t you?”

  “Good for you to know. Explains why I want to rant to someone, and you happen to be the closest bastard I can rant to.”

  “I understand, man.”

  Fritz pointed his pipe in Marcus’s direction, grinning.

  “You, sir, are a pain in the arse,” Fritz nodded. “And I have to keep watch on you alone. They don’t pay me enough for this shit.”

  “Even in this day and age?”

  “Of course. Of course, sir. And wyvern knights are quite well-paid, relative to other folks. But in my eyes, I feel quite underpaid right now. Because of you.”

  “Thinking of leaving the service?”

  “Depends. How much trouble will you bring to this place tonight?”

  “Who knows? Even I have no idea. Tell you the truth, I just got dragged by the princess here.”

  Fritz silenced himself, shaking his pipe lightly as he stared at Marcus. Then a laugh came from him. Marcus realized what really was happening now. Fritz was nervous.

  He was so nervous that all he could do was smoke, talk, and laugh. Indeed, a true soldier.

  “I’ve been in enough trouble as it is,” Fritz giggled. “Man, I didn’t know you’re in the same boat.”

  “If I’m a pain in the arse, she’s twice that, I tell you.”

  “Whoah, brother. This is Her Highness we’re talking about. Watch your mouth.”

  A chortle. Fritz was cackling like a madman. Days or perhaps weeks of stress must be getting to him. Though, his nervousness was dissipating quickly. Was it because Marcus was talking to him?

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Stella doesn’t really care a lot about formalities,” Marcus said.

  “She doesn’t, eh? Royalty acting like that. Quite strange.” Fritz took a deep breath as he shook his head. “Sorry. I really need a wink of sleep soon.”

  “You fought in Eisenfeld, didn’t you?”

  Fritz stopped. His eyes widened as he looked up at Marcus. They hadn’t talked about this much yet, as Stella’s report was dry, and he imagined that Heinrich was still keeping details from Fritz.

  Everything was so hectic that he imagined Fritz hadn't had a chance to truly process what was happening. Even if he was an officer, Marcus knew that people had limits.

  After all, back then, I broke down a week after I fully realized that I had lost people under me.

  Well, ‘break down’ was stretching it. Hell was unforgiving, so one couldn’t break for more than a few seconds. Still, he remembered the feeling of reality and responsibility washing over him.

  It was something he was used to, but he imagined this guy, a peacetime officer, was different.

  “Yeah,” Fritz nodded. “Yeah, you know about that, no?”

  “Of course.”

  “...Were you that person?”

  “What?”

  “The one who shot down those cultists while I was trying to flee like a coward?”

  Coward. That word rang again and again in Marcus’s mind. The way he said it was so self-deprecating and stinging that Marcus felt its venom. Marcus stared at Fritz. Silent. Then, he gave him an order.

  “Smoke your pipe, captain.”

  “Right. Would be a waste, heh.”

  And so, Fritz took a deep huff of his pipe. For a while, the two were just silent, as Fritz continued smoking till he settled down.

  “Good shit,” Fritz nodded to himself. “Want some? I've got rolled cigars.”

  “Sorry, I don’t smoke.”

  “Good. Makes you live longer. You’ll need that. I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”

  “Tsk. What are you even suggesting?”

  “Nothing, man.”

  That was when their carriage slowed down. Marcus noticed that the streets had truly become wider, traffic was lesser, the area was clean, and the buildings were slightly taller, usually four stories high. They were in the noble district, and ahead of them was the domed Royal Palace, the long park in front of it, and on the other side, Sordale’s Royal Diet.

  Fritz quickly grabbed his hat, a black tricorne, and placed it on top of his head. After adjusting his dress uniform a bit, he looked back at Marcus.

  “We’re here,” Fritz said. “Don’t make trouble. I’m telling you. Just follow my instructions so you avoid insulting the royal family.”

  “Isn’t having my mask on already an insult?”

  “They’ve been informed in advance and have permitted your entry anyway.”

  “Ah, I see. Meticulous, eh?”

  “Don’t want any incidents under my watch, damn it.”

  Marcus laughed. Classic, he almost started seeing his old, more inexperienced self in this captain.

  “Oh, and…” Fritz took a deep breath. “Thanks, by the way. For saving me and my men. I think I understand why Her Highness trusts you now.”

  “You only realized that now?”

  “I would have realized it earlier if you removed that mask. Come on, can’t a fellow man see his savior at least?”

  “Bah, forget about it. It’s not happening.”

  “You really are a pain in the arse.”

  “War Minister,” King Aolis looked down at the military man from his throne. “Now that he is here, what is your assessment of my daughter’s ‘savior’?”

  Himmel kept his low bow posture as he answered. Recently, the War Ministry has been besieged by scandal after scandal due to Stella’s disappearance. As a result, he was somewhat of a shamed man.

  He lost way too many men and assets just for one girl. He even lost agents in far-flung nations because of her. As a result, the War Ministry looked glaringly incompetent. Not even the fact that Stella was found helped his case.

  After all, the princess wasn’t found—she walked herself straight to Himmel’s men to reveal herself and get back home.

  Any further incident is unacceptable. My damned position is in trouble.

  He repeated those words in his brain like a mantra as he relayed his report to the elven king.

  “Your Majesty, the unnamed man, so far, appears extremely elusive and enigmatic. We’ve been unable to directly extract information from him, especially because of the 4th Princess’s unwillingness to let him out of her sight.”

  “Is that so? Then where is he?”

  “He’s currently en route in a separate carriage with your daughter. Captain Fritz Stiglitz, a wyvern knight from the 101st Wyvern Air Wing, is currently with him. I have given him orders to try extracting information from the unnamed man.”

  “I see. I see.”

  The king’s eyes darkened as he looked at the tall windows on the side of the palace’s throne hall. It was already late afternoon, so the light filtering in was modest at best.

  Still, it was enough for Himmel to see the silent, hostile storm raging in the king’s face when he glanced up. The king slowly tapped his finger on the armrest of his throne, silent, as if calculating how to proceed.

  “How strong is he?”

  “Our officers report that he is a level 30 [Swordsman]. That, of course, is most likely deception.”

  “So he hides his name, wears a mask, and refuses to reveal his class and level.”

  A dark chuckle came from the king. “My, my. What has my daughter gotten into?”

  “...Do you need aid in bolstering palace security, Your Majesty?”

  “I and the palace guards shall take care of him. There is no need for the military to step in any further.”

  King Aolis raised his chin, while his eyes looked down at Himmel.

  “War Minister, you are dismissed.”

  Himmel held his hat tightly on his side as he bowed before stepping back and leaving with a stiff turn. As he left the throne hall, his ears picked up the annoying murmurs from the elven advisors of the king, who stood on the side.

  That managed to get a rise out of him, enough that he slightly sped up his walking speed.

  Arrogant pricks. Why’d I have to deal with this much crap just because of his disposable girl?

  As he reached the end of the throne hall, the guards beside the door opened it for him, and Himmel left after it was closed with a minor thud. Outside, two military officers were waiting for Himmel, both of them calmly chatting with each other. After an annoyed exhale, Himmel walked straight to them to give them further instructions.

  Whoever that strange man was, Himmel wouldn’t let him be the end of his career.