Arwen was someone very special to me. She was the first talented person I had wanted for myself, and the first knight to swear loyalty to me, though our relationship had begun awkwardly, under duress.

In any case, now simply thinking of her gave me a sense of reassurance. The knight I could trust most. That was Arwen Kirgayen.

Of course, that did not mean I distrusted my other knights. I trusted Vincent and the others from Winter Castle, as well as Adelia, just as much as I trusted Arwen. They would never betray me, no matter the circumstances, and would always follow me—even if hellfire awaited at the end of my path.

That was the crucial difference between Arwen and the other knights. If I walked toward hellfire, and everyone else followed without hesitation, she would stand in my way.

She would probably tell me that my judgment was flawed. That I was taking the wrong path. She would do everything she could to persuade me.

Despite my long life as a sword, I was still immature. I had already made countless errors in judgment, and there was no guarantee I would not make more. When such a moment came, Arwen alone would challenge my judgment and put a stop to it. That was precisely why I trusted her most.

Her own abilities went without saying. She was already approaching the level my uncle had reached in life. Only a few years ago, she had possessed a single Ring. She was still only in her twenties. Her growth was truly astonishing.

I could say with certainty that she would grow even further and reach greater heights. The realm people called Penta. A level I had neither experienced nor encountered in all my centuries as a sword.

Simply imagining crossing swords with Arwen after she reached Penta set my heart racing. My blood ran hot. I cupped my flushed face in my hands and struggled to suppress the laughter escaping me.

"It seems the prospect is not unwelcome to you either, Your Highness."

Siorin's voice suddenly reached me as I grinned at that delightful vision.

"Hm?"

Only then did I emerge from my reverie and remember what had led me into that pleasant fantasy. Right. Siorin had asked me that question.

"But a mere glimpse of Your Highness's true feelings is not enough."

Siorin was looking at me and spouting nonsense. What was he talking about now? A glimpse of my true feelings?

"I would like a definite answer from Your Highness, in words."

Ignoring my frown, Siorin continued to say his piece.

"What do you think of Arwen, Your Highness?"

Having already put my thoughts in order, I answered without hesitation. She was wiser and stronger than anyone I knew, a woman whose future I looked forward to.

Siorin shook his head.

"Forgive me, but that is not the answer I seek. So I dare to ask again. Are you willing to take my daughter as your consort?"

At that blunt question, I pictured Arwen again. She was a sword—a peerless blade, the straightest of them all.

"I..."

After a moment's thought, I was about to answer when...

THUD! THUD!

Someone knocked urgently at the door.

"Your Highness! It's Arwen! Please excuse the intrusion!"

BANG!

Arwen, who would normally have waited quietly for permission to enter, flung the door open and appeared before us.

"Your Highness. Please forgive my discourtesy."

"Quite a few people are being discourteous today."

As I chuckled, Arwen apologized to me once more, then glared at her father.

"Let us speak outside."

"As head of House Kirgayen, I am discussing an important family matter with His Highness."

For once, Siorin asserted his authority as head of the house before his daughter. But it did not last long.

"Do you truly wish me to renounce the Kirgayen name?"

That single sentence shattered Siorin's composure.

"Let's leave it there for today."

If I let this continue, a perfectly good father and daughter might sever ties, so I intervened.

Arwen gave me a small bow, then seized Siorin and dragged him away. Once she deliberately brought her Silver Lion strength to bear, the stoutly built Siorin was hauled out without a shred of dignity.

Even as he was dragged away, Siorin kept mouthing that he would hear my answer next time, or that I should at least send it in a letter. He had no idea Arwen was watching everything he did with an icy expression.

Siorin was forcibly removed at last. Arwen gazed at me for a moment, then bowed and left as well.

Their voices reached me through the door.

"Did I not warn you before? That I would not stand for it if you said anything so absurd again?"

"No, I was only thinking of you..."

"I do not want to hear it. What a spectacle to make before His Highness."

"Arwen. My daughter. Please give me a chance to explain."

"That explanation had better be one I can accept..."

"Well, you see..."

Before long, even those voices faded away.

"At this rate, she really might disown him."

Arwen's voice had sounded so cold that I found myself wishing Siorin well.

"Come to think of it, he said he wanted to discuss tomorrow."

Muttering to myself about Siorin, who had been dragged away without even raising his real business, I flopped onto the bed.

We had already finished discussing the alliance with Teuton anyway. If he had anything more to say, he would return after his in-depth conversation with his daughter. I stopped waiting and closed my eyes.

Siorin did not visit me again that night. It was one of two things: either his business was not particularly important, or Arwen was angrier than expected. Wishing the doting count well, I prepared for the day's schedule.

CLACK. CLACK.

As Adelia's capable hands helped me into my armor, I looked at the middle-aged man kneeling before me. Montpellier, bowed low, addressed me.

"Your Highness."

He looked quite different from before. For one thing, his bloated body had grown considerably thinner. While I was gone, he had lived in constant fear of being cut down by one of the kingdom's nobles who bore him a grudge.

To him, I was both a shackle and a protector. Indeed, when he saw me again, he had been as delighted as if he were reuniting with a long-lost family member. Of course, I had not the slightest intention of caring for him like family. Working him like a dog, perhaps.

"Montpellier. I shall temporarily grant you the title of honorary count. It will remain valid until negotiations with Teuton conclude. Depending on how matters proceed, I may defer its revocation or set it aside permanently. Produce satisfactory results, and you will receive land as well."

Having now changed sides completely, Montpellier was currently a baron without so much as a patch of land. For someone who had lorded it over others as a marquis and imperial ambassador until so recently, that empty baronial title must have felt miserable.

His expression changed instantly at my offer. Greed blazed in his excessively bright eyes. He shifted eagerly, as though ready to rush straight to Teuton's envoys.

He looked like a dog wagging its tail at a bone thick with meat. I chuckled and told him,

"For today, I'll allow you to be insolent."

Then I ordered him to torment Teuton just as he had once tormented our kingdom as the imperial ambassador.

"Go swagger to your heart's content and squeeze them for everything you can."

"Your humble servant Montpellier, Count of the Leonberk Kingdom, shall carry out Your Highness's command with his very life!"

Already calling himself by his new title, he sprang to his feet and strode spiritedly toward the conference hall.

"Then let's leave the negotiations to the pen-pushers and let the sword-wielders do their work."

I headed straight for an open space in the kingdom. My knights were waiting there, Arwen among them. Fully armed, she was as immaculate as ever.

Feeling mischievous, I was about to ask her how Siorin was doing, but closed my mouth again. I had belatedly noticed something different about her demeanor.

She always looked me straight in the eye, yet today, for some reason, she kept avoiding my gaze. Her expression and movements were painfully awkward. When our eyes happened to meet, she tried to look nonchalant, oblivious to the look on her own face.

"Hmm."

Eli narrowed his eyes at the two of us.

"Could it be..."

Then he asked me,

"Has Dame Arwen done something wrong?"

Naturally, I had no intention of answering Eli's pointless question, so I simply ignored him.

"How strange. Dame Arwen isn't the sort to do anything wrong."

"More nonsense..."

Only after Arwen spoke up did Eli stop his babbling. The one-eyed cavalry captain and the other knights snickered at the exchange.

"You are in His Highness's presence. All of you, be quiet."

Karl sternly reprimanded the knights, but no one paid him any heed. Regardless of the chatter around her, Adelia kept her eyes fixed on my face.

Watching the knights dare to joke around in the presence of a crown prince did not offend me in the least. The boisterous chatter of Winter Castle's knights before a march was no longer an unusual sight to me. If anything, I found the noise endearing.

I chuckled, but quickly schooled my expression and addressed them.

"Anyone who loses to those Teuton bastards today is going straight to Winter Castle, where I'll leave you to rot for ten years. Consider yourselves warned."

The knights did not so much as flinch at my threat. Defeat clearly had not even crossed their minds. Letting my lips curl into a satisfied smile, I turned.

"Let's go."

Eli and Adelia followed behind me. Karl took his place at my side. Arwen was trailing a little farther back. I stopped and turned to her.

"Arwen. Your place is right beside me."

Startled by my words, she hurried to my side.

"Keep your wits about you."

At my rebuke of her uncharacteristic behavior, she gazed steadily at me. There was something unfamiliar in her eyes, and as I frowned, she bowed her head.

"I have conducted myself poorly. Forgive me, Your Highness."

Arwen quietly steadied her breathing. I felt her unsettled presence gradually stabilize. Only then did I resume walking.

The Finest Knight in the West awaited me at the palace training grounds. With every step, my presence naturally unfurled. My beloved knights raised their own in response, fierce as though a great battle lay ahead.

I glanced back. The knights grinned at me, and I bared my teeth in a grin of my own. We understood one another without words.

I was not the only one with fire still burning in my heart, left unspent by the war's abrupt end. I continued walking, containing the heat that threatened to burst from my body at any moment.

At last, I arrived at the palace training grounds, where the Finest Knight in the West awaited me.

A sharp surge of presence greeted us as the Finest Knight in the West and Teuton's knights unleashed their fighting spirit. The air was so murderous that blood might be spilled at any moment—and I was so delighted by it that I broke into a broad smile.