MTO C73

Chapter 73

Michel went straight to see Kaidan. As the old saying goes, “Strike while the iron is hot,” and the longer such matters were put off, the worse they became.

“What is it?”

Yet when he actually stood before Kaidan, the words wouldn’t come. The face he hadn’t seen in a while looked no different from a zombie in a horror film.

The knights he had just met also looked very fatigued, but it was nothing compared to Kaidan. His eyes were so bloodshot that the whites were barely visible, and his lips were cracked and raw, painful just to look at. The frown lines between his brows had deepened, and on his already cold features an edge of irritability was etched by ill condition.

Worst of all, even in that state he could not seem to let go of the papers in his hands. It wasn’t the first time Michel had watched him work, but today Kaidan looked, frankly, like a severe workaholic.

If Jerard’s name was brought up now, it would only provoke him.

Thinking fast, Michel gave a small, sheepish smile.

“It’s nothing special. It’s just… it feels like we haven’t had a proper talk in a while. Are you very busy?”

When Michel’s eyes flicked to his hands, Kaidan finally set the papers down.

“No. Sit at ease. I’ve invited a guest and failed to attend to him.”

Michel promptly sat on the sofa. Kaidan rose from his desk and took the seat opposite. But once seated, he said nothing for a while. He didn’t seem to be thinking something over or waiting for Michel to speak first—he simply did not move, eyes open, as if sleeping. Even when Michel waved a hand in front of him, there was no reaction.

“Um, Kaidan?”

“Yes. Is there any discomfort while staying in the castle?”

Only when Michel spoke his name did Kaidan seem to break free of a spell and speak. He sounded as if he meant to resume a normal conversation, but the light had long fled his eyes, and on his knee his right index finger kept tapping against his thumb. What was he doing? On a closer look, it was the motion of turning a page. Realizing that sent a chill down Michel’s spine.

Is this man sleeping at all?

At Kaidan’s dreadful state Michel was at a loss for words. After a long struggle to find what to say, he chose simply to answer the question asked.

“Yes. Everyone’s been kind, so we’re comfortable. The children seem used to living at Eglence now.”

“Good. The child who was attacked by the eagle—how is he?”

“Max. Thankfully the wound has healed, and the stitches are out. But he hasn’t spoken and can’t seem to lift his spirits lately; it worries me.”

“…Why?”

“I’m not sure. He’s not the boisterous type to begin with.”

At the mention of Max, Michel’s shoulders sagged. Thinking of that small back lying immobile in bed, his mouth went dry.

Did he eat the raspberry pie Sister brought? Michel thought to ask the kitchen whether they could make the nutty bean soup Max loved for supper.

“I’m sorry about that day, in many ways. I should have come to you first and apologized properly. Seeing that I failed to manage even a single knight in my charge, let alone the eagles—it was a sorry display.”

“Huh? No, it’s fine.”

At Kaidan’s ashamed apology, Michel hurriedly waved his hands. He had only been voicing worry for Max, but looking back, it could have sounded like reproach to Kaidan.

There had been no such intent. Yet despite Michel’s emphatic denial, Kaidan’s expression remained grave.

“As I said that day, this will never happen again. You may not trust it, but this time you can truly believe me. Since that day, I’ve multiplied the number of guards inside the castle.”

Michel had been about to ask to have those guards reassigned. As Kaidan said, there were more guards posted throughout the castle. Not only that, armed knights trailed the children each time they left their rooms, watching them. Ostensibly to protect them from danger, but it only made the children self‑conscious and afraid to chatter at ease under the knights’ eyes.

And using no small force to guard the children had doubled the work left to Kaidan and the remaining knights. With David out in the woods investigating with several men, there were not many hands in the castle to spare.

“Kaidan, aren’t you pushing yourself too hard?”

The words slipped out. He looked so worn that Michel couldn’t hold back.

Kaidan pressed his brow as if with a headache, then lifted his head at Michel’s words.

“What?”

“I heard you’re swamped. That with David away and Brother Jerard gone, you’ve been handling all corps matters alone. And you already have your hands full with the fief.”

Kaidan listened silently, then clicked his tongue.

“Someone has been filling your head with needless talk.”

Michel hiccuped without a sound. The jab struck home. The knights hadn’t asked him to keep their plea secret, but he doubted Kaidan would relish knowing.

“N‑no, that’s not it.”

“I appreciate the concern, but it’s nothing for you to fret over. I’m not struggling at all.”

At the hard line drawn, a faint crease formed between Michel’s brows. For someone “not struggling,” Kaidan’s desk was a mess of scattered papers even now. His lunch dishes hadn’t been cleared. He had had no time to go eat in the hall, nor to call a servant to tidy up.

“Are you sleeping properly? You’ll really make yourself ill.”

Michel spoke with concern, but Kaidan looked as if he couldn’t fathom it.

“At war, fighting through the night is common. What danger is there in a comfortable castle?”

“You sit for hours on end staring at papers. Do you know what that does to your body?”

“I’m a knight. If I whine about sitting at a desk, I’ve no right to hold a sword.”

“…Even so, perhaps you should ease up a little?”

“There’s a mountain to clear before spring. Laze about and the lake will thaw before I’m done. Since we’re on it—if there’s nothing more, I must ask you to go. The scouts will be back to report soon.”

The more he tried to speak, the more Michel’s chest simmered. Kaidan was acting as if he were immortal.

True, in a world where nutrition was hard to come by, Kaidan had an exceptionally healthy body; and he was a Sword Master, rare to become. In stamina, few could match him.

But overwork was dangerous even for those who trained daily and ate clean. However many wars he had won, in front of mountain‑high stacks of paperwork, long‑honed sword skill was no use. Michel, too, had found himself more exhausted on days of managing students and processing expenses than on days of training and playing with children all day.

Don’t get angry. Keep it gentle. I came to persuade him, not to fight.

Michel mustered the patience he used with children and pulled up the corners of his mouth.

“Then how about delegating some things to others?”

“To whom? I am lord of Eglence and lord of Valois. And all of this—I can shoulder alone. So please, don’t worry any further…”

“Being able to doesn’t mean you must do everything alone!”

In the end, Michel couldn’t hold back and shouted. When children were stubborn, he could find it endearing because they were young; a grown man blocking every word frayed his temper.

Who had stolen this man’s rest? He agreed that Kaidan had many for whom he was responsible. Which was why he had to care for himself first.

“Everyone in Eglence wants to help you. So sometimes, can’t you just hand things off and rest? People are worried.”

Breathing hard, Michel shot the words at him—and this time Kaidan did not immediately rebut. He stared blankly, his tired eyes widening a little into a foolish look.

“Who worries for me?”

After a long pause, Kaidan asked quietly.

“Everyone in Eglence Castle. The knights, the servants, and I worry for you.”

In truth, whenever Michel spoke with servants lately, it often came up that His Grace seemed fatigued. Lawrence asked the chef to serve restorative dishes at every meal; the knights, worried about the Duke’s excessive workload, had even dragged Michel into bringing Jerard back. Of course, a large part of their motive was to escape the severity of Kaidan’s drills…

Still, the sentiment was the same: they worried for Kaidan.

At Michel’s words, Kaidan fell silent, seemingly deep in thought.

“Am I so untrustworthy?”

But when he spoke again, Michel could only smack his own forehead. A man usually quick‑witted and tactful, and today so thick! Had he worked so much his brain was sluggish? That was entirely possible.

He plainly needed proper sleep, but if told to go lie down at once, he would refuse. Michel chose words simple enough for a three‑year‑old.

“That’s not it. Everyone wants to be your strength. It’s not that they don’t trust you; it’s that they respect and care for you.”

Again, Kaidan gave no answer. Told that people liked him, he looked neither pleased nor displeased—only twitched his brow, as if he’d heard something bizarre. Michel worried he hadn’t understood a word.