Death Can't Sleep
***
***
“…Oh? All right.”
When she nodded without fully understanding him, Carlz’s complexion darkened. He let out a deep sigh.
“I don’t know what will happen to your innocence…”
Then he ruffled his bright red hair. His mouth, which moved as if it was formulating words to say, eventually closed.
There was a brief silence in the carriage.
“Madame, this is my apology for being ignorant and stupid about escorting you.”
“It’s okay, Sir Carlz.”
She quickly waved her hands.
Sir Carlz apologized for not noticing the bullying of the ladies all weekend, and whenever he had time, he tried to apologize. Even though it was really okay.
But now Carlz was a little more serious.
“The reason the Welch’s closed their doors was because of his highness the Grand Duke.”
‘What?’
She looked at him in surprise.
Two days after the day of the duel, the Welch family had closed their gates.
It is a very serious matter for a noble family to close their gates and stop all socialization and business, but it often happened to knight families when they lost duels.
So she wasn’t surprised when she heard that their doors were closed.
But was it really because of Victor?
Carlz frowned and continued.
“And… if you didn’t try to hide it from him, it wouldn’t have ended with them closing their doors.”
She looked at him blankly.
Carlz’s blue eyes were cast to the floor.
“His highness is more terrifying than Madame thinks. The nickname ‘Walking Death’ was not given to him for nothing.”
The glistening summer sun poured through the window and reflected off of the jewels on her dress.
She bowed her head and fell into silent contemplation.
***
News did not flow steadily to the northern part of the Empire.
The only foreigners she saw there were mercenaries, wandering merchants, and the very rare messenger.
Most of the news northerners did hear came from minstrels or poets, and even then it was riddled with inaccuracies or falsehoods.
In their stories, ‘Walking Death’ was a monster that washed itself in the blood of its enemies, and turned into a dragon every night.
She smiled to herself as she polished her blade.
According to their stories, the mercenary King Yazido was a three-headed troll, and the bandit Kyrgyz came down from the Black Mountain range and turned into a human being.
Therefore, the story about the Grand Duke of Death was considered by the northerners to be untrue.
And Victor, who she had now seen in person, was nothing like the stories.
She looked at Victor’s sleeping face.
He held her hand until he had fallen asleep.
She gently ruffled his hair.
‘He’s so beautiful.’
Heat mixed with shyness filled her chest.
He was a very strong knight, so he must have killed many, but he was kind to her.
‘Carlz probably wanted to say that Victor was a scary person, but I still think that he-‘
Suddenly, Victor opened his eyes.
She quickly grabbed her sword and backed away. Victor got out of bed and she watched his usual process of picking out a weapon.
It wasn’t that hard to put him back to sleep anymore.
Because he had slept well every day, his illness had improved greatly, and his movements were much slower than before.
She didn’t even have to hit him anymore. She just took away his sword and laid him back down, and he would fall back asleep.
She gently grabbed the curved sword that Victor had picked up, and nudged him back into bed.
His hazy amber eyes blinked once and then disappeared under his eyelids. She looked down at him bitterly.
The Victor of the night made her feel pity.
Seeing the weakness of such a strong man made her feel sad for some reason.
Where she grew up, weakness meant death.
She remembered those who walked through her village bitterly, carrying the coffins of dead old men.
Amari’s children learned funeral rites rather than tales of fairies or knights. It made them sad to see weak things.
She put down her sword and sat next to Victor.
She didn’t know how to explain it, but he wasn’t scary to her at all.
He was beautiful, noble, and sometimes weak.
The Grand Duke of Death was a man whom she felt more compassion towards than fear.
She gently took his hand and quietly sang him a lullaby.
***
As soon as the banquets Amarion had wanted to attend were over, the Morte mansion started preparing for the couple’s trip.
The Morte estate was a month’s ride away, so there were many things to pack.
Their luggage was increased due to the need for dry food, warm clothes, weapons, personal belongings, horses, butlers and drivers.
Sumona picked dresses suitable for the weather of the Morte estate, as well as Amarion’s favorite accessories and shoes.
The old maid frantically ordered everyone not to pack too much.
“Madame will need something to wear when she comes back, so pack in moderation.”
‘That’s right, I can come back.’
‘Maybe next year or later… I can always call this place my home.’
Servants with dried meat busily passed by. She pressed herself against the wall to let them through.
Contrary to her sentiments, she was useless right now.
The maids were wandering the rooms of the mansion, cleaning up.
Eventually, she put on pants and a simple shirt and headed to the garden.
“Oh, Madame!”
It was Carlz, who had been kicked out of his room, just like her.
Carlz was holding the reins of a horse.
“I have nothing to do, so I’m going to the training ground. Would you like to go with me?”
She thought for a moment and then nodded.
Victor said she could go, and standing here would disturb the gardener.
As Carlz beckoned, a servant quickly brought out another horse.
Two horses sprinted out of the Duke’s mansion.
***
It’s been a while since she rode a horse. Horses were expensive, and in the north, they mainly rode reindeer.
It was fortunate that the training ground was not too far away. When she got off the horse, she felt slightly motion sick.
The knights were immersed in their training. Everyone seemed to have been kicked out of their rooms, and came here out of boredom.
As soon as they saw her and Sir Carlz, they rushed over.
“Your highness! They said that you defeated Jeffrey Sutherland?”
“You are great! You are just like our master!”
“Why haven’t you been here before?”
It was a more intense reaction than she expected. She was deeply embarrassed.
The vice-captain, Sir Leonard, stepped forward.
“Hey, be respectful to her highness. I’m sorry, my lady.”
“No, it’s okay.”
She answered quickly, and snuck a glance at Sir Leonard.
Sir Leonard looked more knightly than Sir Carlz.
His blonde hair was neatly cut, and his stubbornness could be felt from his tight expression.
He pushed the knights away and asked seriously.
“By the way, what brings you here, Madame? Did you come for a tour before you left?”
“No, it’s just… because I don’t have much to do…”
Sir Carlz intervened.
“Why did you ask? You, too, were hoping Madame would come here. Take this opportunity to learn something from the powerful Lady.”
“Sir Carlz, you’re rude…!”
“I’m really fine!”
She hurriedly took a step forward and picked up a wooden sword that had been thrown away.
When she glanced over, the knights were looking at her with big shining eyes. They looked like a bunch of children.
She looked at them all in turn, and then cautiously suggested.
“I have a lot of time. Would you all like to duel me?”
“Yes!”
“Let’s go!!”
The knights shouted excitedly and lined up.
After a while, she frowned.
“Hey, be a little more serious… This isn’t practice at all.”
The fifth knight, whose sword was blown away in two hits, stood up with a look of dismay.
The previous knights were similar. Two hits, three hits, and the longest lasted about four hits.
‘Is it because I am the lady you serve that you are intentionally losing?’
She looked at them with a perplexed expression.
Even so, if they did it this way, they would not be able to practice and it would only be a waste of time.
She looked at Leonard hoping he would say something, but he was massaging his temples with an equally perplexed expression. Instead, Carlz approached with a smirk.
“Madame, I told you. They aren’t as good as you…”
“But they are the continent’s strongest knights, aren’t they?”
“You are the strongest… Ha! How could you possibly not know this? How can you not-”
Carlz was anguished and bit his lip.
“I can’t explain this… huh, just call us weak.”
She blinked.
He said that, but the Knights of Morte seemed to be worthy of their reputation.
There was no way that the most famous knights on the continent were weaker than a country knight like her.
She was sure that they couldn’t harm her because she was their master’s wife. It was truly amazing loyalty.
He spoke with a sour expression, like someone who took bitter herbs.
“How about you just demonstrate your swordsmanship against a dummy.”
She nodded.
***
Chapter 22: 21
***
“…Oh? All right.”
When she nodded without fully understanding him, Carlz’s complexion darkened. He let out a deep sigh.
“I don’t know what will happen to your innocence…”
Then he ruffled his bright red hair. His mouth, which moved as if it was formulating words to say, eventually closed.
There was a brief silence in the carriage.
“Madame, this is my apology for being ignorant and stupid about escorting you.”
“It’s okay, Sir Carlz.”
She quickly waved her hands.
Sir Carlz apologized for not noticing the bullying of the ladies all weekend, and whenever he had time, he tried to apologize. Even though it was really okay.
But now Carlz was a little more serious.
“The reason the Welch’s closed their doors was because of his highness the Grand Duke.”
‘What?’
She looked at him in surprise.
Two days after the day of the duel, the Welch family had closed their gates.
It is a very serious matter for a noble family to close their gates and stop all socialization and business, but it often happened to knight families when they lost duels.
So she wasn’t surprised when she heard that their doors were closed.
But was it really because of Victor?
Carlz frowned and continued.
She looked at him blankly.
Carlz’s blue eyes were cast to the floor.
“His highness is more terrifying than Madame thinks. The nickname ‘Walking Death’ was not given to him for nothing.”
The glistening summer sun poured through the window and reflected off of the jewels on her dress.
She bowed her head and fell into silent contemplation.
***
News did not flow steadily to the northern part of the Empire.
The only foreigners she saw there were mercenaries, wandering merchants, and the very rare messenger.
Most of the news northerners did hear came from minstrels or poets, and even then it was riddled with inaccuracies or falsehoods.
In their stories, ‘Walking Death’ was a monster that washed itself in the blood of its enemies, and turned into a dragon every night.
She smiled to herself as she polished her blade.
According to their stories, the mercenary King Yazido was a three-headed troll, and the bandit Kyrgyz came down from the Black Mountain range and turned into a human being.
Therefore, the story about the Grand Duke of Death was considered by the northerners to be untrue.
And Victor, who she had now seen in person, was nothing like the stories.
She looked at Victor’s sleeping face.
He held her hand until he had fallen asleep.
She gently ruffled his hair.
‘He’s so beautiful.’
Heat mixed with shyness filled her chest.
‘Carlz probably wanted to say that Victor was a scary person, but I still think that he-‘
Suddenly, Victor opened his eyes.
She quickly grabbed her sword and backed away. Victor got out of bed and she watched his usual process of picking out a weapon.
It wasn’t that hard to put him back to sleep anymore.
Because he had slept well every day, his illness had improved greatly, and his movements were much slower than before.
She didn’t even have to hit him anymore. She just took away his sword and laid him back down, and he would fall back asleep.
She gently grabbed the curved sword that Victor had picked up, and nudged him back into bed.
His hazy amber eyes blinked once and then disappeared under his eyelids. She looked down at him bitterly.
The Victor of the night made her feel pity.
Seeing the weakness of such a strong man made her feel sad for some reason.
Where she grew up, weakness meant death.
She remembered those who walked through her village bitterly, carrying the coffins of dead old men.
Amari’s children learned funeral rites rather than tales of fairies or knights. It made them sad to see weak things.
She put down her sword and sat next to Victor.
She didn’t know how to explain it, but he wasn’t scary to her at all.
He was beautiful, noble, and sometimes weak.
The Grand Duke of Death was a man whom she felt more compassion towards than fear.
She gently took his hand and quietly sang him a lullaby.
***
The Morte estate was a month’s ride away, so there were many things to pack.
Their luggage was increased due to the need for dry food, warm clothes, weapons, personal belongings, horses, butlers and drivers.
Sumona picked dresses suitable for the weather of the Morte estate, as well as Amarion’s favorite accessories and shoes.
The old maid frantically ordered everyone not to pack too much.
“Madame will need something to wear when she comes back, so pack in moderation.”
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Those words made Amarion’s heart flutter.‘That’s right, I can come back.’
‘Maybe next year or later… I can always call this place my home.’
Servants with dried meat busily passed by. She pressed herself against the wall to let them through.
Contrary to her sentiments, she was useless right now.
The maids were wandering the rooms of the mansion, cleaning up.
Eventually, she put on pants and a simple shirt and headed to the garden.
“Oh, Madame!”
It was Carlz, who had been kicked out of his room, just like her.
Carlz was holding the reins of a horse.
“I have nothing to do, so I’m going to the training ground. Would you like to go with me?”
She thought for a moment and then nodded.
Victor said she could go, and standing here would disturb the gardener.
As Carlz beckoned, a servant quickly brought out another horse.
***
It’s been a while since she rode a horse. Horses were expensive, and in the north, they mainly rode reindeer.
It was fortunate that the training ground was not too far away. When she got off the horse, she felt slightly motion sick.
The knights were immersed in their training. Everyone seemed to have been kicked out of their rooms, and came here out of boredom.
As soon as they saw her and Sir Carlz, they rushed over.
“Your highness! They said that you defeated Jeffrey Sutherland?”
“You are great! You are just like our master!”
“Why haven’t you been here before?”
It was a more intense reaction than she expected. She was deeply embarrassed.
The vice-captain, Sir Leonard, stepped forward.
“Hey, be respectful to her highness. I’m sorry, my lady.”
“No, it’s okay.”
She answered quickly, and snuck a glance at Sir Leonard.
Sir Leonard looked more knightly than Sir Carlz.
His blonde hair was neatly cut, and his stubbornness could be felt from his tight expression.
He pushed the knights away and asked seriously.
“By the way, what brings you here, Madame? Did you come for a tour before you left?”
“No, it’s just… because I don’t have much to do…”
Sir Carlz intervened.
“Sir Carlz, you’re rude…!”
“I’m really fine!”
She hurriedly took a step forward and picked up a wooden sword that had been thrown away.
When she glanced over, the knights were looking at her with big shining eyes. They looked like a bunch of children.
She looked at them all in turn, and then cautiously suggested.
“I have a lot of time. Would you all like to duel me?”
“Yes!”
“Let’s go!!”
The knights shouted excitedly and lined up.
After a while, she frowned.
“Hey, be a little more serious… This isn’t practice at all.”
The fifth knight, whose sword was blown away in two hits, stood up with a look of dismay.
The previous knights were similar. Two hits, three hits, and the longest lasted about four hits.
‘Is it because I am the lady you serve that you are intentionally losing?’
She looked at them with a perplexed expression.
Even so, if they did it this way, they would not be able to practice and it would only be a waste of time.
She looked at Leonard hoping he would say something, but he was massaging his temples with an equally perplexed expression. Instead, Carlz approached with a smirk.
“Madame, I told you. They aren’t as good as you…”
“But they are the continent’s strongest knights, aren’t they?”
Carlz was anguished and bit his lip.
“I can’t explain this… huh, just call us weak.”
She blinked.
He said that, but the Knights of Morte seemed to be worthy of their reputation.
There was no way that the most famous knights on the continent were weaker than a country knight like her.
She was sure that they couldn’t harm her because she was their master’s wife. It was truly amazing loyalty.
He spoke with a sour expression, like someone who took bitter herbs.
“How about you just demonstrate your swordsmanship against a dummy.”
She nodded.
***
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