Thanks to Kamshin and Lou, the resupply was finished in a single day. They had asked the Feltio knights still stationed in town for help, and with the townsfolk pitching in as well, we managed to get everything stocked at record speed.
Even better, the villagers let both my Seat knights and Panamera’s order stay at the inns for next to nothing. Everyone got a real bed for once. After that rest, we were able to set out at dawn full of energy.
“Thank you all so much for your help!” I called from in front of the city gates.
Not just townsfolk, but even maids and stewards from the keep—and Andre and his fellow knights—had come to see us off.
“Take care, Lord Van!”
“Yeah! We’ll be back soon!”
Over a hundred people waved us off as we departed. Til was in high spirits, bustling about with a tray.
“Tea, everyone! Please, have some tea!”
“Thanks,” I said, accepting a cup.
The mood was warm and relaxed. We sipped tea and nibbled on biscuits as the carriage rocked along. Arte spoke up, sharing her impressions of the city and castle—the prosperity of the markets, the sense of urban life richer than in Ferdinand territory.
Her words turned, almost shyly, toward the keep’s maids.
“Til… you mentioned the maids were cross with you. Why was that?”
Til puffed out her chest proudly. “Oh, that. They weren’t angry, exactly—more jealous. When Lord Van was expelled from the house, the maids fought bitterly over who would follow him. And who won that battle?” She placed a hand to her chest. “Me.”
Arte blinked. Panamera, of all people, chuckled darkly. “So, the Marquis’s own staff chose to follow a boy to the frontier instead of staying in the lord’s castle. That says a great deal about the marquis’s… personal appeal.”
His tone made me wince, but Til nodded smugly. I hurried to soften it. “They were just being kind to a boy cast out. Til was already my attendant, that’s all.”
“No!” Til snapped, cheeks puffed. “We decided it by contest—three rounds, over two hours, more than ten competitors. I barely won at the end, but I won. Don’t you dare erase my battle, Lord Van!”
“Ah—sorry, sorry! I was wrong!” I bowed my head, hands up in surrender.
Arte giggled, Panamera laughed outright, and Til finally relented, muttering over her teacup.
The road to war, at least for now, felt strangely peaceful. I silently gave thanks that Panamera had chosen to ride with us.
[Jarlpa]
The fortress loomed ahead, a blocky mass of stone, every wall thickened to the limit in expectation of sorcery. Even after fifty years, its silhouette remained unbroken. Red-hued stone dominated its face, though gray patches here and there told of repairs across the decades.
The cliffs surrounding it fell sheer, and mountains crowded the horizon behind. Guard this bastion, and no Shelvia force could ever pour into my lands.
The Fortress of Centena—the “Northern Wall.”
I allowed myself the smallest exhale. It still stood.
“Your Excellency, shall I ride ahead?” Stradale asked gruffly, mounted beside my carriage.
“Go. Take the cavalry. If anything feels wrong, return at once.”
“Yes, sir!”
He barked orders, and in moments his column was already moving as one toward the gate. That was Stradale—the man I trusted above all others.
He had been raised to commander of ten thousand after winning glory in a great war. In truth, by seniority Dee should have had the title. Dee was unmatched in personal strength. But Stradale commanded men like no one else. In skirmishes between them, they had always been equals—but in time, I knew Stradale would even surpass him.
That was why Dee was made vice-commander: to steady Stradale, to cover his blind spots.
And yet both Dee and Espada had chosen to follow Van when the boy walked out. I had not expected that. I had called it madness.
To lose such pillars—and then watch that child, that exile, rise to become the king’s favorite? To see his face at every great battle, his name on every tongue? Infuriating.
Ungrateful brat. Cast out or not, does he feel no duty to the house that raised him?
If he keeps amassing victories, the day will come when even the Feltio estates could be stripped away. Unless I move first. Unless I win great glory before he does.
“Shelvia…” My lips curled. “Let me show you whose land you threaten.”
The carriage creaked onward, and my hand tightened on the hilt at my side.
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