MTO C71

Chapter 71

“Leaving you unchecked, you keep overstepping the line. How long am I supposed to tolerate your insolence? Do you even know who is standing before you?”

“Yes, very well. His Grace, the Duke of Eglence. The great man who returned to his homeland after twelve long years and drove out all the house’s knights! Not satisfied with the knights, now you mean to slaughter the eagles as well? Who will you cast out next to be satisfied?”

Jerard’s veins stood out on his neck as he bellowed. Max hiccuped softly. He wasn’t the only one startled; Michel’s mouth fell open in shock. He had wondered if there was bad blood between them, but never had he wished to have it confirmed like this.

And even if every word Jerard said were true, what he had just thrown in his superior’s face was grossly inappropriate—no matter that his lord was younger than he.

“Shut that mouth.”

As expected, Kaidan’s voice, calm until now, turned savage. He growled low, as if patience had run out, eyes deadly enough to cut down the man before him. Jerard did not yield an inch.

“If you wish to shut my mouth, then sever my head here and now! Until then, you will not so much as touch a single feather on those eagles.”

“I’ve heard enough. You’re confined to quarters for a month. I don’t care to see your face—get out of my sight at once!”

“No! As of today, I resign from the Eglence knight corps. You are no longer my lord!”

“What?!”

It was not Kaidan but Michel who was struck dumb. Far from a heat‑of‑the‑moment outburst, Jerard tore the gold‑trimmed buttons from his chest and flung them to the floor.

With a giant knight raging, one might expect the Duke to flinch; instead Kaidan didn’t blink, lips twisting into a smile.

“Good. There’s no place in my corps for an old, soft eagle. Pack your things and leave the castle at once. Should you cross my path again, I’ll close your mouth in the way you want.”

“Gladly! From afar I’ll watch how your foolish pride brings this castle down. Live well, if you can!”

They drew no blades, but their words cut deep. The gulf of feeling unbridged for so long yawned too wide; they had already crossed the river that cannot be recrossed.

Michel hastily picked up the button that had rolled to his feet, but Jerard slammed the door and was gone. In answer, Kaidan raked his hair with a nervous hand. He said nothing, but his breath came hot, his massive frame seeming to swell as he struggled to master his fury.

Michel stood frozen, awkwardly holding the gold button. What on earth had just happened? He had watched their fight from start to finish, and still could not believe it had unraveled this far. He cautiously studied Kaidan, swallowing his own anger.

“Kaidan.”

“…I’ve shown you—and the child—something you shouldn’t have had to see.”

“No. But…”

“Forgive me, I have to go. We’ll speak later.”

As if he could endure no longer, Kaidan left the infirmary. His pride looked sorely wounded; Michel could not bring himself to stop him. Besides, there was a child who needed protection.

“Max.”

Michel gathered the boy, frozen pale, into his arms. The child trembled all over, terrified. A deadly quarrel that would rattle a grown man had just played out at his bedside, and he had only just come out of a serious procedure—no wonder he was shaken.

“Oh, little one, that was scary, wasn’t it? It’s all right now, Max. I’m sorry we frightened you.”

As Michel stroked the back of his head and spoke, Max buried his face in Michel’s shoulder and began to sob. Michel soothed him, saying again and again it was okay, but his own heart sank.

Kaidan and Jerard were gone, yet the heat of their fight lingered, warming the room to suffocation.

—

“Max, they baked raspberry pie in the kitchen! Sounds delicious, right? Everyone’s gone down to the dining hall—should we go too?”

“……”

“Huh? What’s this? Wow! Looks like Butler Lawrence bought new toys! Max, want to come see them with me?”

“……”

“…Max, want to go outside and ride a sled?”

“……”

No matter how lively Michel tried to be, Max lay curled up on the bed, not moving. Sometimes Michel wondered if he was asleep, but the occasional shift showed he was awake. Since last evening, past midday today, he hadn’t set foot off the bed.

A week ago, the boy had had his forehead stitched—and it was as if his mouth had been stitched too. Max was quiet by nature, but he had never kept silence this long. Michel’s memory of the boy’s voice had grown faint.

Still, until a few days ago he had only seemed subdued—he ate and mingled well enough.

Today, no matter who spoke to him, he didn’t turn. Barbara couldn’t stop crying, blaming herself for failing to care for him, and the other children grew wary. Dan, his twin, stuck to Max’s side without leaving for a moment.

“Max, are you alright? Do you want to be alone?”

Dan lay beside him and whispered. Max irritably pulled the blanket over his head. One might take offense, but Dan only patted the hump of the covers.

“Max wants to be alone.”

Even so, he didn’t seem inclined to leave. Unlike Max, who clamped his lips tight, Dan talked more than ever. Usually Max was the livelier twin; now it was reversed. Michel stroked Dan’s hair, sad at how the boy seemed to have grown in days.

If only it were possible to know what he’s thinking.

The worst problem was not knowing exactly why Max was so heartsick. The eagle’s attack, the three stitches, the shouting match between adults—all were shocking—but Max was a resilient child. He had opened up quickly to Michel despite enduring long abuse from the former headmaster.

He was a bit timid, but playful at heart; seeing him so listless tore Michel up. Had he missed something? He kept replaying it all.

“Then I’ll bring the pie here. Dan, you’ll stay?”

When Michel asked, forcing cheer, Dan nodded slightly. But his eyes stayed fixed on the giant cocoon of blankets. Michel thought perhaps his leaving would let the brothers talk freely; he forced himself to go.

Closing the door softly, he sighed.

He isn’t sick, is he?

Two days ago they removed the stitches. There would be a big scar, but the physician said it would fade as he grew. The wound had healed cleanly, with no infection.

But what if he only looked fine outwardly, and something bad was growing inside? When the body is unwell, helplessness often strikes without clear cause. Medicine here was not like 21st‑century Korea’s; perhaps a serious issue had gone unnoticed. The thought chilled him.

Yet he’d joined taekwondo class yesterday—though a bit low‑energy.

Or was Max upset about the scar on his forehead? The day they removed the thread, he stood long before the mirror, touching his brow. Even when Michel and Barbara told him it was a brave badge, he couldn’t smile. Children are often more sensitive about their appearance.

No—that can’t be it. He once said a knight with a facial scar was cool. And he and Dan used to doodle on each other’s faces.

This and that, it was all guesswork; no satisfying answer came. Laden with worry, Michel trudged down the stairs.

“Saint!”

Just as he was about to enter the dining hall, a group of men surged into the corridor. They surrounded him without preamble, blocking the way. They were all knights Michel knew—but their eyes were sunken and they looked urgent.

“At last! We’ve been waiting ages.”

“You were waiting for me? Why?”

“Please, save us!”

“Eh?”

Michel blinked at the sudden plea. Surely they weren’t here for “exorcisms” disguised as massages?

Their air of desperation—like hungry bears—made Michel instinctively raise his arms in a guard. Owen, the calmest among them, grabbed the shoulder of a knight who had thrust his face too close.

“If you blurt like that, you’ll scare the Saint. You lot need to remember your looks can be threatening.”

“S‑sorry, Saint.”

They wilted and apologized. Owen placed a hand over his chest and bowed politely.

“Forgive us for coming so suddenly, Saint. We are in urgent need and forgot our manners.”

“It’s okay. What’s going on?”

When Michel finally asked, Owen’s face turned grave.

“It’s difficult to speak of here. Would you spare us a little time?”

Michel told them to wait and peeked into the dining hall. Thankfully, the children were enjoying a snack, learning table manners from Lawrence. When he explained the situation, Barbara readily offered to take pie to Dan and Max. With them watching the children, Michel could go with the knights.