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Chapter 11
Chapter 11. Not a Knight
The sun began to lean westward. Whenever either of them grew thirsty, the guard brought over a wooden cup, and Shulia’s pen gradually slowed.
“...Not only did that group of prisoners fail to thank him, they swarmed around him instead, striking him with stones and throwing mud at him,” Fick said with his eyes closed. “Sancho hid to the side and shouted, ‘Master, run!’ while Don Quixote raised his sword and cried, ‘In the name of a knight, I command you—’”
“Then a stone struck him squarely in the forehead, and he toppled off his horse.”
Shulia’s pen stopped. “...That is all?” she asked.
W̌ е ḃ n̈ ōv ѐľ E n umа̀
“That is all.” Fick opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. “What did you expect? That good deeds are always rewarded? That is the plot of a traditional chivalric romance.”
Shulia said nothing. She lowered her head and looked at the thick stack of papers in front of her. Sunlight leaked through the gaps between the leaves and fell over the writing. When the wind blew, the patches of light swayed, and even the words seemed to move.
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She reached out and gently pressed down on the stack of papers, as though afraid the wind would blow it away. There was already a thick pile before her. “Let us stop here for today. My hand is a little tired from writing.”
Fick opened his eyes, sat up, and stretched. “Are you coming again tomorrow? I have things to do as well.”
“Of course I am. This is your payment for today’s trouble.” Shulia took three silver Manes from her pocket. At the same time, she gathered up the paper and pen and placed them back in the guard’s hands. “I will sort the pages after I return. Do not worry. I will not alter any of the content, and I will not secretly publish it.”
“I trust your integrity, Shulia.” Fick accepted the three silver Manes, smiled, stood up, and brushed the grass from his backside.
Е ṅūm̀a . ї d̈
“So you can say something decent after all. I will show you out.”
The two of them walked out of the garden side by side.
As they reached the school gate, he suddenly heard a familiar voice.
“Fick, are you free today?”
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Michael stood at the entrance, holding a bouquet of flowers. They were neatly trimmed white roses, bound with a pale purple ribbon.
Michael’s face was flushed crimson. He looked at Fick, then at Shulia, who was walking out of the garden, and the flowers in his hands trembled slightly.
Ẁ e b̈ ňö v̈е l̀ Е̂ñǔmа
“It is not what you think. We are only friends...” Fick began.
Michael opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Shulia stepped out from behind Fick, glanced at Michael, then at the flowers in his hands. There was no expression on her face. She only sighed softly.
“To think someone would actually fall for you. How rare.” She said this to Fick.
Before Fick could even react, Shulia had already clapped her hands.
The guard in the plain uniform appeared from nowhere, walked up to Michael, and looked him up and down.
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Then he spoke in a clear, perfectly articulated lowborn city drawl:
“Hey, fatso. Look at the state of you. I would find you too greasy even to render into lard. Toss you into a crematorium and you would crackle and burn for three days and three nights. Who would be blind enough to fall for you? Get lost!”
Michael’s face went from red to white, then from white back to red. He opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, but in the end, he said nothing.
He turned and fled in humiliation.
The bouquet of white roses fell to the ground, scattering several petals.
Wait. Was he actually serious?
Еṅ u m̀ а
“...Would saying that not hurt him a little?” Fick felt somewhat uneasy.
“I thought it was rather mild.” Shulia tilted her head and looked at him, a faint smile on her lips. “Knights usually take the initiative to protect a princess’s reputation in order to win her favor. Today, it was the other way around.”
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“First of all, I am not a knight. Second, I was just about to explain things clearly to him, but that terrifying display of yours frightened him away.”
When Shulia heard that, she covered her mouth and laughed, her laughter like wind passing through leaves. “I have always appreciated your sense of humor.”
Fick looked at her, unsure whether she was laughing at “not a knight” or “terrifying display.”
Shulia laughed for quite a while. Then she stopped and lowered her head to glance at the flowers on the ground.
Е n umа
“Throw them into the latrine pit,” she told the guard.
The guard nodded, bent down with obvious disgust, and picked up the bouquet.
Shulia turned to look at Fick.
“See you in the classroom tomorrow morning.”
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Fick thought about it.
“We will see tomorrow. What if something comes up?” he said.
W е.b n̊о̆v е́l̊ Ѐñ ũm̀ а
“All right. Come if you can.” Shulia nodded and said nothing more before turning back toward the garden.
Fick turned around at once and walked out of the school gate without looking back.
The sun was about to set. There were fewer people on the streets, and royal carriages occasionally passed by, their horses’ hooves striking the flagstones with a crisp clatter. By the time he returned home, night had already fallen.
Alice was sitting at the table. Two portions of food had been placed in front of her, both untouched.
When she saw Fick push the door open and enter, she lifted her head.
“Why are you so late?”
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“Something came up.” Fick sat down, picked up his fork, and took a bite. Then he suddenly remembered something. “By the way, I may come back late again tomorrow.”
Alice fell silent for two seconds.
“With which young lady?”
Alice was clearly in a poor mood today. Fick raised his head and looked at her.
Alice had already lowered her head and begun eating.
“How did you know? Mind-reading magic?”
W̊е̃ b̊ nо v̊е_l̊ È ñum̃.ӓ_
“I guessed.” In truth, she had smelled the faint trace of perfume on Fick’s hands.
Fick looked at her profile. Her silver-gray hair hung down, covering half of her face. He suddenly remembered the look in her eyes that morning when she had seen him off at the school gate.
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Alice seemed to have something on her mind today. She had kept hesitating as though she wanted to speak.
“She is from the royal family, and she has written novels before, so she and I have things to talk about. I cannot really use a quill, so having her write for me saves a great deal of trouble. Look, she even gave me three silver Manes. Once it is finished, I will give you the manuscript to proofread.”
If Alice finds out that I secretly read that royal Witch novel, she might use it against me and say something like, “I will hold this over you for the rest of my life.” It is better not to mention it.
“It is not that I distrust her. I just think Big Brother should keep some distance from those royals. They truly despise nobles with crystal-absorbing traits.” Alice did not lift her head.
W е̄_b nо v̀ ë l Е n ů m à
“All right. I will try to speak faster tomorrow and finish the contents of the first draft.”
“Mm. After Big Brother finishes writing, I will exercise with Big Brother every morning and help make up for the toll this has taken on your body.”
As usual, the two of them washed their feet before getting into bed. This time, Alice lay a little closer to Fick. She lightly twirled a strand of hair with her right hand and tapped Fick’s shoulder with her left. Slightly embarrassed, she said, “Big Brother, will you keep telling me the rest of that knight story tonight?”
“Could we skip it today? I happen to be a little tired.” Fick closed his eyes and suddenly remembered Michael’s expression during the day.
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His flushed face, his trembling hands, and that bouquet of white roses lying on the ground.
What a sin. Who knew where that poor fat man was crying now? This was all my fault, a damned straight man who had toyed with a gay man’s feelings.
Еn û m̈ а̇
Wait. Michael was a religious noble. What kind of young man could he not have? Why was I worrying about him?
A few seconds later, he felt Alice shift a little closer to him. The quilt moved, and a cool hand settled on his arm.
“Big Brother.” In a small voice, she wanted to say that she had already signed up for the Military Witch Academy.
“Mm?”
“...It is nothing. Big Brother, you should rest first.”
Fick did not open his eyes.
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After a while, Alice’s breathing slowly evened out.
Moonlight slipped through the gap in the window and fell across her face. Her silver-gray hair spread over the pillow, with a few strands draping over Fick’s shoulder.
Fick opened his eyes and glanced at the slender hand resting on his shoulder.
She always stubbornly claimed she was not cold, but her body told the truth.
He gently drew his arm away and tucked the blanket around Alice. Outside the window, the wind made the window frame rattle softly.
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