chsdbacks Chapter 45
Chapter 45
Chapter 45
A moment of silence descended.
For five whole seconds, not a single word was spoken, as though the world itself had stopped.
Viretta’s usually bright and cheery voice—impervious to any insult or humiliation—fell silent for those five seconds.
Though brief, the silence was heavy, not because of some indignant reaction like "How dare a slave say such a thing?"
Saffron, having spent only two days with the group, felt a cold sweat drip down the back of his neck.
When the five seconds of silence ended, all three of them—Viretta, Iola, and Ranken—burst into loud, exaggerated exclamations, as if on cue.
"Hoho, you’ve already fallen for my charm! But alas, I’m still engaged. I can’t have an affair before breaking off my engagement, now can I?"
"Uh, wow. The Medleidge family patriarch would definitely veto that. I mean, it’s a good way to ruin your life, but, haha..."
"Proposing already? Love truly works in mysterious ways! But, uh... should we interpret this as a duel challenge instead? Haha!"
Their overlapping reactions turned into a cacophony of incomprehensible noise.
The over-the-top responses only served to unsettle Saffron further. Slowly, he rose to his feet, his gaze darkening.
"Hmph... mocking me, are you? How amusing. Of course, you’re far too clever to take a slave’s words seriously."
Saffron, now drowning in his own unique brand of passive-aggressiveness, tried to brush off the situation as a joke.
He hadn’t expected his casual remark about marriage to provoke such an uproar.
For someone like Viretta—a woman of considerable status and intellect—marrying a slave would be the ultimate insult. Yet she showed no trace of offense, leaving him bewildered.
Why had there been such a tense silence in the first place?
As the mystery gnawed at him, Iola pulled out his sword and began sharpening it against a whetstone.
"One’s sincerity should not be dismissed merely because of their station."
The scraping sound of the blade on the stone grated on Saffron’s nerves.
"Ugh... please, drop the act. A noble scholar like yourself surely knows the true meaning behind my words..."
"Rest assured, your intentions have been understood."
"Do nobles have an entirely different way of conversing? Because I feel like we’re speaking entirely different languages here... Ugh, this is so depressing."
Though both Iola and Saffron were smiling, their expressions couldn’t have been more different.
Leaning against the side of the carriage like a man on his deathbed, Saffron muttered bitterly.
Trying to talk to these people felt utterly futile.
After a pause, Viretta approached him, her face shining with her usual cheerfulness. Gently, she patted Saffron on the shoulder and delivered the most devastating words imaginable.
"That’s not true, Saffron. You still have a chance."
"Oh, really? With Iola sharpening his blade behind me, it certainly feels like my chances are dwindling fast. Perhaps he plans to kill me before we even meet the dragon?"
"Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Iola would never sharpen his sword for such a reason! We’re simply companions walking our own paths. We’ll slay the dragon, and then..."
The mention of the dragon reignited a sharp gleam in Iola’s eyes.
That’s right. The dragon.
Their mission was to kill the dragon and then part ways. This was the promise that had carried them this far.
Whenever the dragon was mentioned, Iola’s wavering thoughts became steady once more.
He was here to study the dragon, to learn from it. His passion for his goal burned unwaveringly.
"Indeed. We are companions bound by a shared end goal," Iola said, withdrawing his sword.
The ominous scraping sound ceased, replaced by a calm and composed atmosphere.
"Exactly! Once we’ve hunted the dragon and I’ve annulled my engagement, you’ll have your chance to pursue me, Saffron."
"...What?"
Iola’s newly regained composure faltered as he caught onto something odd in Viretta’s words.
"Huh? What’s wrong?"
This talk of splitting rewards was news to Ranken, but that hardly seemed important right now.
He gave Viretta a sharp look.
“Does it make any sense for him to have a chance?”
“Why not?”
“Why not?! If some weirdo shows up as your husband, I’m the one who’ll have to deal with it!”
Even now, they were heading off to hunt a dragon alongside a seemingly perfect man like Iola.
If someone less competent appeared, there was no telling what chaos Viretta would bring.
“Why would you care?”
“......”
Ranken didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of Viretta marrying someone less capable—or downright unsuitable—made his stomach churn.
He hated the idea of being caught up in that mess, of watching Viretta settle for someone unworthy.
But...
“......”
In truth...
“......”
The idea of someone beneath him taking the place of Viretta’s husband felt like walking barefoot over jagged stones.
As her longtime companion and guard, the thought of serving someone inferior to himself made his insides twist.
Was it jealousy? Pride? Or perhaps something else entirely—
“Noooooooooo!”
Unable to bear the thought any longer, Ranken slammed his head into the nearest wall.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
“Noooo! That can’t happen! That’s impossible!”
His frantic headbutting continued, loud enough to make Viretta flinch.
Five seconds of silence to compare himself to Saffron? Ridiculous. To even consider “If he’s good enough for marriage, then what about me?” was intolerable.
“I refuse! Absolutely not!”
This was no different from developing Stockholm syndrome.
What, was he supposed to get further entangled with Viretta?
The solid foundation of his common sense smacked him across the face like a scolding parent.
Watching Ranken bash his head until it swelled, Viretta hesitated.
“You’ll hurt yourself if you keep doing that.”
“I don’t care! Nooooooooo!”
“Do you hate the idea of me marrying someone unsuitable that much? I didn’t know you cared about me so deeply.”
“I hate that I even thought about it!”
Seeing that Ranken wouldn’t stop until he knocked himself unconscious, Viretta grabbed his collar and hauled him backward with all her strength.
As Ranken fell onto his back, Viretta knelt over him to examine his forehead. It was reddened, swollen, and even slightly grazed from his repeated headbutts.
“To think you’ve become such a loyal knight...”
Her voice quavered as she gently caressed his forehead, her eyes glistening as if she were about to cry.
“To think you care about me so much. I understand now. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to choose a husband who won’t trouble you.”
Her touch was far too tender.
“Nooooooooo!”
With renewed vigor, Ranken slammed his head into the wall again.