One must know that once royal blood is exposed, those with ill intentions will swarm like sharks smelling blood—assassination, kidnapping, exploitation…
Felt’s situation would be more dangerous than any night in the Slums.
Back to the topic at hand.
“Bringing up that damn rock again!” Felt gritted her teeth, her fists clenched tightly, making a creaking sound.
“Can you not mention that damn rock even once! It’s so annoying!”
“The dragon stone is a sacred prophetic tablet used to establish the legitimacy of the royal succession in the Kingdom of Lugnica, carved and recognized by the Divine Dragon Volcanica who protects the kingdom.”
Reinhard looked at Felt and explained patiently.
As a knight of the kingdom, he placed great importance on the recognition of the dragon stone.
This was equivalent to the fundamental issue of political legitimacy and was the cornerstone of the entire royal selection system.
If even he were to waver in his belief in the judgment of the dragon stone, then the foundation of the royal selection would be nothing but a facade.
“…”
Felt glared at him, and it seemed as if fire could spew from her golden-brown eyes.
“…”
Reinhard also looked at her, his gaze as calm and focused as ever.
After a while, Felt was the first to give in, averting her gaze, pouting her lips, and grumbling hatefully in a low voice:
“You are really strange. Being confronted and having tantrums thrown at you like this by me, can you not get angry at all?”
“I do.”
“When?”
“When facing enemies that endanger the kingdom and its people.”
Reinhard answered without hesitation, his azure eyes gazing calmly at Felt, like a shield that would never be shattered.
“…Talking to you is really exhausting.”
Felt rolled her eyes, turned around, walked to the chair, and plopped down, then propped her feet on the cushion of another chair.
She wasn’t wearing shoes; her bare feet swayed in the morning light, and her toes curled involuntarily, as if testing the temperature of the air.
Then, Felt extended her leg, and that pale, bare foot swayed directly toward Reinhard.
With a provocative expression on her face that seemed to say “let’s see what you do now,” she said:
“So, Knight, put the shoes on for me, your master.”
“…”
Reinhard lowered his head and looked at Felt’s feet.
Pale and fair, with thin insteps, the ten toes looked like a row of rounded little seashells, forming an eerie contrast with her aggressive expression.
A blonde girl who grew up scrambling and fighting in the Slums had surprisingly clean and delicate feet.
“Lady Felt, your shoes are right next to the chair…”
“I will have a maid come over…”
“As my knight, shouldn’t you obey your master?” Felt tilted her head, revealing a sly smile.
“What was the first rule of the Knights Code? Oh, right, it’s ‘The master’s command is above all else’… I didn’t remember that wrong, did I?”
“…Very well, Lady Felt.”
Reinhard was silent for a moment, then bent down to pick up the pink leather shoes placed next to the chair.
He knelt on one knee, supporting Felt’s delicate ankle with one hand.
When his fingers touched her slightly cool skin, he paused imperceptibly, just as he was about to put the shoe on…
In that very instant!
“Whoosh!”
Felt’s lower leg exerted force suddenly, and her toes aimed straight for Reinhard’s impeccably handsome face, kicking directly at it.
This kick was fast and fierce, carrying the tricky angle she had practiced in the alley fights of the Slums, targeting his nose bridge.
If it had been anyone else, this kick would likely have landed solidly on their face, causing a nosebleed and making them fall to the ground in a sorry state.
The big guys who had been kicked over by Felt using this move in the Slums all those years ago still kept the legend of “don’t ever provoke that little blonde” circulating in the alleys.
But Reinhard was not anyone else.
His right hand raised at a speed almost invisible to the naked eye, his palm steadily blocking in front of his face, catching that pale, bare foot without even moving an eyebrow.
“This behavior does not befit Lady Felt’s status as a lady.”
On Reinhard’s handsome face, there wasn’t even a trace of fluctuation, and he was still holding the pink leather shoe steadily in his hand, without any shaking from the kick just now.
Felt pulled her foot back, her canine tooth grinding in anger, making a faint, crisp sound:
“Tch, you guy, you knew I was going to kick you, didn’t you?”
“No, I just reacted in time.”
“Then let me kick you once!”
“No.”
“Bastard…”
Felt looked unconvinced, snatched the shoes from Reinhard’s hand, and bent down to put them on herself.
The action of putting on the shoes was forceful, and the shoelaces snapped and popped, as if she were taking her anger out on them.
Reinhard, standing to the side, blinked, a sense of helplessness rising in his heart.
Then, Felt stood up, walked to the window, and pushed it open.
The cool morning breeze rushed in, blowing her short golden hair and dispersing the subtle tension that had been hanging in the room.
Felt leaned on the windowsill, resting her chin on her crossed arms, looking out at the royal capital.
The neatly arranged stone streets, the pedestrians coming and going, the spires of the Knights Order barracks in the distance gleaming with a metallic luster in the sunlight. The source of this chapter is novelping . com.
Everything looked so neat, so orderly, so…
not for her.
Felt was silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke up:
“Reinhard, I want to go see the Slums.”
“Lady Felt, that is not possible right now.”
“When will it be?”
“After the Royal Selection ends.”
“When does the Royal Selection end?”
“That depends on the five candidates.”
“What if I lose right now?” Felt turned her head to look at Reinhard, her canine tooth peeking out from the corner of her mouth again.
“If I get eliminated in the first round, can I go back then?”
“If you are eliminated in the first round, it would mean you have failed to fulfill your duties as a Royal Selection candidate. You would still need to remain in the capital to undergo the corresponding arrangements; returning to the Slums is not an option.”
“Then what if I run back myself?”
“I will come to find you.”
“What if I climb over the wall?”
“I will wait for you under the wall.”
“What if I slip away when you’re not around?”
“Then I will be standing there waiting for you before you arrive at the Slums.” Reinhard looked at Felt calmly, still speaking with polite humility, “You are my liege; no matter where you are, I will find you.”
“You—!”
Felt gritted her teeth, her canine tooth leaving a faint white mark on her lower lip.
She knew that everything Reinhard said was true.
She had verified this herself on the night she was brought back to the mansion half a month ago.
Back then, taking advantage of the maids in the mansion being busy, she had tiptoed out of her room, climbed over the backyard wall, and landed without making a single sound.
Felt activated her Divine Protection of the Wind and sprinted through the streets and alleys of the capital.
The night wind whistled past her ears, and the streetlights stretched into long golden lines in her vision.
She thought she had run fast enough.
With her Divine Protection of the Wind, few people in this city could catch up to her, at least.
But she had forgotten…
Reinhard was no ordinary person.
He was the current Sword Saint, a man standing at the pinnacle of humanity with a body full of Divine Protections, a being that even magical beasts would avoid.