MTO C74

Chapter 74

Michel wondered if his words were even being heard. At this rate, he was going to forget why he had come to see Kaidan in the first place, so he dropped the loop of a faltering conversation and went straight to the point.

“I heard all the golden eagles are unharmed—though they’re caged. And that you never actually ordered them killed, right?”

According to the knights who had received the command that day, Kaidan had only ordered the eagles locked in cages; he had never told anyone to kill them. When a knight asked if they should be killed, he had said only that if the eagles showed aggressive behavior again, he would have to consider it. When Jerard saw the caged birds and flew into a rage, a flustered knight—already rattled—twisted the message in the retelling.

Learning this, Michel was dumbfounded. Ordering execution and saying “I’ll consider it” were as far apart as heaven and earth. If Jerard had known the truth, perhaps he wouldn’t have stormed out of the corps.

“Why didn’t you tell Brother Jerard plainly?”

At the mention of Jerard’s name, Kaidan’s eyes—hazy a moment before—sharpened at once.

“I don’t see why I should step forward to explain anything. He already reached his own conclusion.”

“If you had been straightforward, Brother Jerard might have apologized.”

Jerard cared for House Eglence’s golden eagles enough to fetch bandages and salve himself when one was hurt. How must it have felt to hear they were to be killed? His words had been harsh, but his feelings weren’t beyond understanding.

Kaidan gave a short, dismissive snort.

“It wasn’t the first time he defied what I do. He simply can’t stand seeing me in this seat.”

He seemed deeply stung by this affair. Being grossly insulted by a subordinate in front of guests would anger anyone. But the longer the anger lasted, the harder that broken tie would be to mend. With all the tasks heaped on him, could Kaidan remain intact until then?

Even so, without knowing the long history between them, Michel couldn’t just shove them at each other and say “Make peace.” Children got upset when told flatly “You’re wrong; apologize.” Michel decided to probe their relationship more carefully.

“Is it true Brother Jerard was originally the deputy captain of Eglence’s knight corps?”

“Sounds like the knights really said anything and everything.”

Kaidan exhaled in exasperation. When Michel waited silently, he finally gave a small nod.

“Yes. David hasn’t been deputy for long.”

“Why didn’t you keep Brother Jerard as deputy?”

Michel asked carefully so it wouldn’t sound like blame. Thankfully, Kaidan answered without taking offense.

“The deputy stands for me and represents the corps. He must be highly skilled and well‑connected with the knights. But Wulslie got tangled in personal attachments and couldn’t mesh at all with the new recruits.”

“By ‘personal attachments’… you mean the knights who were formerly in the Eglence corps?”

“Right. He raged for days about how I could dismiss knights without speaking to him.”

Michel had already heard this from several mouths. Each time, he felt the force of Jerard’s position: those who left had been his old comrades, and as deputy then, he would have seen Kaidan’s actions—without any discussion—as high‑handed and unfair.

What Michel truly wondered about was Kaidan’s side. Grant a hundred steps and assume that dismissing unfit knights was defensible; Kaidan could be chillingly cool when needed. But to do it without a word to Jerard was odd—Owen had said Jerard was among the retainers Kaidan trusted.

“Did you really ‘dismiss’ them?”

Kaidan did not answer for a long time. On his face, Michel read many moments of hesitation. Clearly, there was more truth there than people knew.

“…No.”

In the end, Kaidan confessed.

“I didn’t throw them out. They left on their own.”

Michel let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It was a staggering truth. If so, the conflict with Jerard should never have existed. What could be gained by faulting Kaidan for something he hadn’t even done?

Then why was Jerard still angry, still misunderstanding? Michel needed more detail.

“Do you know why they quit the corps?”

Kaidan’s fingertips tapped the sofa’s back once. His gaze sank, drifting through the past. Soon he looked back at Michel and sighed low between roughened lips.

“They found the reworked training and duties too much. They came to me as a group to request dismissal from the corps. Leaving them in place would only have made things harder for everyone, so I pressed some money into their hands and sent them off.”

“…Does Brother Jerard know that?”

“Who knows. If he did, he wouldn’t be that angry.”

“What? You never told him?”

“He didn’t ask me—why should I tell him?”

So you just left him to keep misunderstanding?

Michel was not only exasperated—his chest felt tight—but Kaidan looked blank, as if he didn’t know what was wrong. Today he felt like an overgrown child. That a man who could mow down fifty yeti with a sword on the battlefield was this clumsy in human dealings was astonishing.

“Kaidan, how old are you?”

He couldn’t help asking; he’d always been curious. To Kaidan it must have sounded out of the blue; his brow ticked, displeased.

“Why ask?”

“No reason… I just realized I’ve never heard it. I’m twenty‑eight—no, it’s been a year, so twenty‑nine.”

Michel grinned to lighten the mood. Kaidan kept a dubious look but answered.

“Twenty‑seven this year.”

“What?!”

Michel yelped, leaning forward, then scrutinized Kaidan’s face as the Duke scowled back.

Two years younger than me—with that face? Well, put that way, it sort of fits… Wait, then how many years with Heart?

Lost in thought, Michel didn’t realize he had leaned in close. Suddenly Kaidan raised a hand and gently pushed his face back. Michel’s small face disappeared in that big palm.

“Ah.”

“Is there some problem with my age?”

“N‑no! None at all.”

Rubbing his forehead where the fingers had touched, Michel sat back—but his eyes kept darting to the face opposite. By title, curt manner, and being Heart’s adoptive father in the original story, he had assumed Kaidan was older; judged purely by looks, twenty‑seven wasn’t so surprising.

“Assigning the deputy’s rank to David wasn’t only because of that,” Kaidan continued roughly, picking up the thread. Michel pricked up his ears.

“Wulslie injured his shoulder months ago; he can’t swing a sword as before. Eglence’s deputy must lead from the front if the castle is breached. Put him on a battlefield now and he’ll die before drawing steel.”

It sounded harsh, but Michel sensed worry and affection in the words; they weren’t unlike how he once fretted over Master Woo Seung‑woo’s knees.

To Michel’s eye, Kaidan had never wanted to cast Jerard out of the corps. Even in this incident, he had ordered a month’s confinement—Jerard was the one who stormed out.

“Then why keep him in the corps at all? Let him keep training the knights?”

Prodding gently, Michel saw Kaidan falter, as expected. His eyes wavered like a reed in wind, then dropped.

“Because I thought he’d be good at it.”

At that quiet admission, Michel felt a surge of pity. He could see how much Kaidan trusted Jerard.

He was still too young and inexperienced to shoulder everything alone. He needed someone like Jerard—long a guardian of the corps, someone he could rely on.

“Have you said that to Brother Jerard?”

Kaidan’s silence was denial enough. Michel swallowed a sigh and smiled faintly.

“Talk to him again. There was mutual misunderstanding. And if Brother Jerard returns to the corps, things will be much easier for you.”

“Why should I bow to a man who walked out on his own two feet? He chose to remain my father’s knight, not mine. A knight who disobeys orders has no place with me. I will not recall him unless the North’s ice all melts—so stop talking about this.”

Kaidan’s reaction was oversharp, but Michel’s face brightened. He had, at last, an inkling of how to untie this knot.