It took the Marquess only a moment to purify the village well, a task that would have taken a priest a full day.
It was a stark reminder of why magic commanded such a high price.
After witnessing the display, the Holy Knights began spouting nonsense.
“If I hadn’t been practically kidnapped by the temple for my holy power, I would’ve learned magic!”
“You crazy bastards,” Shanka cut in, swinging his scabbard like a club and rapping each of them on the head.
“I agree, but let’s not say such things in front of the young lady and her brother.
It’s embarrassing.”
The knights, nursing their heads, whined to Ezekiel.
But since Ezekiel wholeheartedly agreed with Shanka, he pretended not to notice the fresh lumps on their skulls.
“Hahaha!
It’s okay,” Henry chirped, bursting into laughter.
“I won’t tell the old man.”
‘The old man.’ He clearly meant the Marquess.
With a heavy heart, Ezekiel replied, “If the Holy Knights of Udal are ever rude, please be sure to inform me.”
“But I’m having a great time!” the boy exclaimed.
He grabbed onto Shanka’s arm, letting himself be swung back and forth as he laughed again.
Ezekiel sighed.
The village chief was beside himself with joy that a mage had come to his village—and not just any mage, but Marquess Kazakov, a man cherished by the Emperor himself.
As a result, the inn’s common room was overflowing with food brought by the villagers.
The sated Holy Knights gave a warm welcome to the lady, the boy, and their maid when they timidly descended the stairs as the meal was in full swing.
A few of the younger knights, who had been tasked with being their companions, puffed out their chests and proudly guided the party to a table.
“Miss, you must try this!” the maid urged, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she offered Iris a mug of beer.
The knights, grinning foolishly, seconded the offer, and it seemed Iris eventually accepted.
By the time Ezekiel noticed her, it was too late; the beer mug before the bride-to-be was completely empty.
“How is it?” Shanka asked.
Iris’s face lit up with a bright smile.
Her cheeks were as red as her maid’s.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had a drink.
It’s delicious.”
“A while?” Millena asked cheerfully.
“I would have thought this was your first time!
When was the last time you had one?”
The woman’s smile didn’t fade as she answered, “That would be… the day I received the proposal.”
Millena’s expression froze.
Everyone guessed she was referring to the day she received the Emperor’s summons.
It was understandable; she must have had a lot on her mind.
Was the drink she’d had on the day she agreed to marry a man twenty years her senior a toast of celebration… or something else?
As the thought lingered, the air grew heavy.
But Shanka, a Holy Knight of Udal, had the quick wit to cut through such moments.
He feigned dramatic surprise.
“No way!
Then you must have had a fine liquor that can’t compare to this simple beer.
Does this even suit your palate?”
“Oh, my, not at all,” Iris said.
“In my fief, we drink beer often.
The drink I had that day was beer, as well.”
She caressed the mug with both hands and shyly puffed out her chest.
The gown fit her in a way that seemed almost burdensome for her slender frame, but no one commented on it.
“In our lands, we drink beer when the winter rations run low.
The neighboring fief produces a great deal of barley, so in the summer, my father would buy their old grain and make malt.
We’d brew beer with it and drink it until winter’s end.
I’m quite used to having beer in place of a meal.”
“Hahaha, that sounds like my kind of place!
The Quillucsia fief, was it?” Shanka asked.
The woman offered a faint smile.
“It was a small place.”
A small, poor place.
But she didn’t let the knights feel awkward.
“I’m Iris.
Please, feel free to call me that.”
Millena quickly jumped in.
“You mean, we should call you Iris, not Young Lady?”
“I would be very grateful if you would.”
“Alright, Iris!
Have another!” Shanka boldly slammed a fresh mug of beer down in front of her.
The bronze tankard hit the table with a thud so loud it seemed it would dent.
Iris flinched before a smile returned to her face.
Henry raised his hand.
“Me too!
Me too!
I used to drink beer in the winter!”
“Excellent!
You have one too, Young Master!”
“Please call me Henry!”
“Shanka.” Ezekiel narrowed his eyes in warning, but Henry was faster.
The boy snatched the mug, his eyes shining with glee, and gulped it down before letting out a triumphant burp.
Iris, looking troubled, tried to intervene.
“You’re making the Commander uncomfortable, Henry.”
“But, sister, His Highness is—”
“Henry.” Iris’s tone was firm yet gentle, a clear signal to stop.
Henry pouted and pushed the mug away.
As the mood turned awkward, Ezekiel rose from his seat.
“I’ll be heading up.”
“Aw, Commander, leaving already?” Shanka protested.
“A monster appeared, did it not?
I need to record a report for the next temple.”
The temples were sensitive to the appearance of monsters from the old era, as they spread plagues and poisons.
It was the duty of all seven temples, regardless of the god they served, to share such information.
Naturally, Ezekiel had to report what they had encountered at the next city.
“Shanka, see to Miss Quillucsia.”
“Yessir!” Shanka gave a mock salute.
Ezekiel went straight to his room on the upper floor and began his report.
In truth, a monster drowning in a well was so common that there was little to write.
The occasional clamor from downstairs suggested the knights were still drinking.
He was just putting away his paper and pen when he heard the sound of a struggle from the hallway.
A familiar voice.
Before he knew it, he was straining to hear.
“Let me go, Marquess…”
At first, he was merely listening.
But the moment he heard those words, Ezekiel threw the door open, an action that surprised even himself.
At the sudden ‘bang’, the two people in the hallway started and spun toward him.
It was the Marquess and Iris.
The Marquess had Iris’s wrist in a tight grip.
When Ezekiel’s gaze fell pointedly on his hand, he flinched and let go.
Iris immediately clutched her wrist to her chest and shrank back.
“Is something the matter?” Ezekiel asked, his voice low.
“It’s nothing,” the Marquess said quickly.
“I was just trying to have a little talk…”
A little talk.
That wasn’t quite what Ezekiel had overheard.
“We haven’t had a proper conversation yet, have we?
If you have a moment, perhaps in my room…”
“But we are not yet married, Marquess.
For me to go to your room is…”
“Hmph.
That is precisely why I’m suggesting we talk.
How can we be getting married when we know so little about each other?”
“This is difficult, Marquess.
If you insist…”
Of course, Ezekiel couldn’t press the matter.
Nor did he want to.
He simply hadn’t wanted his suspicions confirmed in such a sordid way.
“Ahem.” Fortunately, the Marquess cleared his throat and took a step back.
“It’s gotten late.
Sir Ezekiel, Miss Quillucsia, you should both get some rest.”
“Good night,” Ezekiel replied with a slight nod.
The Marquess looked deeply disappointed, but it seemed he lacked the courage to drag a lady away in front of a Holy Knight.
As soon as the Marquess was gone, Ezekiel nodded to Iris.
“You should go in as well, Miss Quillucsia.”
“Um, Commander.” The woman hesitated before calling out to him.
Ezekiel stopped and looked at her, waiting.
Iris flinched under his gaze, then lowered her head and spoke softly.
“…Thank you.
I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“It’s fine.” He hadn’t done it for her thanks.
As Ezekiel turned to leave again, she called out to him once more.
“Um…”
“Yes?”
“Please… forgive Henry’s rudeness,” Iris mumbled.
Rudeness.
She must have been referring to Henry calling him a prince.
“He doesn’t know the ways of the world yet.
I’ve sheltered him too much…”
What did something like that matter?
“I don’t mind,” Ezekiel replied impassively.
“I see… I’m sorry.”
That seemed to be all.
But Iris didn’t leave, hesitating before speaking again.
“Um, Commander.
You may also… call me by my name…”
Ezekiel cut her short.
“That would not be appropriate.”
“Commander…”
“I am merely the one tasked with escorting you to Lenat, Miss Quillucsia.”
The blue eyes at the bottom of the stairs clouded over.