TYND 28

Theon patted Rothy’s shoulder as the boy sprang to his feet. It’s fine. I take no offence. And we aren’t exactly strangers, are we? We’re each other’s companions.” 

“I still feel terrible about that… You’re a misogamist, but you ended up marrying because of me…” 

“Where did you even pick up words like ‘misogamist’?”

“From my master…”

“He seems to have said all sorts of things about me. What else did he say?”

As Theon guided Rothy back into his seat, he changed the subject casually. Rothy responded readily, his guard lowered enough to talk about his master. 

“He said it wasn’t fair that someone as handsome as you had to be so well-built as well.”

“Was that supposed to be a compliment…?”

“Of course! Master praised you a lot. He said if he’d to trust one person on the battlefield, it’d be you…”

“……”

“He also said he wanted to teach you magic and—”

“……”

“That he wanted to remove the weak imperial bloodline and put House Falsen on the throne.”

Theon’s expression darkened at the mention of ‘weak imperial bloodline’. He immediately activated an aura barrier to ensure their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. Rothy cocked his head, his doll-like face innocently unaware of the gravity of his words.  

“Why did you put up a soundproof barrier? Did I say anything wrong?”

“From now on, don’t mention anything about the imperial family unless we’re completely alone.”

“I’m sorry…”

“If you said it knowingly, then you deserve to be scolded. But if it was out of ignorance, then learn from this and don’t repeat it.”

Theon softened his tone intentionally to avoid discouraging Rothy. Even so, there were limits to how comforting he could sound. His massive frame exuded overwhelming intimidation, his eyes sharp like finely honed blades, and his presence was as heavy and dark as a moonless night. For the young apprentice knights in the Black Lion Knights, who weren’t used to him, even his gentlest words often felt like a lash, no matter his intent.

But Rothy wasn’t an ordinary boy. He nodded firmly. 

“I understand. I’ll make sure to be more careful.”

“Still, I didn’t know your master thought so highly of me since we don’t have a real connection. We didn’t even share a meal together outside of tactical meetings.”

“That’s true. It’s because my master liked you, but he found out I liked you too, so he kept his distance. He was worried you might talk to me, or I might talk to you…”

Theon couldn’t make sense of this statement. 

If Rothy had been confined to the secret laboratory or Yolone Sirin’s tent, why would he worry about either of them speaking? He’d never even been near the archmage’s tent. 

“Did you spend your time moving between the laboratory and the tent?”

 “Yeah. I moved back and forth a lot… but I mostly spent time in the laboratory. It was just Chi-chi and me there, so it was more comfortable… Master rarely came to the lab……”

At the mention of its name, the weasel perked up with a soft chitter. Rothy gently scratched its chin and its soft belly. The weasel rolled around contentedly, clearly enjoying the attention.

“But hey… Theon, did you…like my master?”

Rothy’s cheeks turned a peachy pink as he waited shyly for an answer. That monster… Did he still regard him as a master worth revering? 

“That man committed unspeakable crimes. He’s a repugnant and despicable being. Did he ever apologise to you for what he did?”

Rothy shook his head. 

“I understand why you’re angry, Theon. But Master said it was something someone had to do… He said I saved a lot of people. That if peace comes, it’d be because of me…”

No child should’ve to suffer so much for the sake of peace. But denying his words served no purpose. The guilty party was already gone, and saying such things would only hurt the victim further. Theon pressed his lips tightly, remaining silent. 

Rothy glanced up, trying to read his mood. 

“Then… Theon, before you hated my master… What did you think of him? When you didn’t know… I mean, when you were fighting the demons and all that… what did you think of him then?”

His eyes sparkled with curiosity. It was obvious what he wanted—he clearly wanted to hear some measure of praise for the man who’d been his master.  

Theon thought back to the archmage on the battlefield—a volatile and often infuriating man, capricious yet occasionally kind, but mostly ruthless. An eccentric figure who fought alone, needing neither any support to bolster his power or knights to protect him during casting. What took dozens of mages an hour to conjure—a wide-scale bombardment spell—he could achieve with a single gesture, unleashing them multiple times in one battle. 

He was, without exaggeration, the sovereign of the battlefield. 

An awe-inspiring and overwhelming presence, so absolute that even the malevolent dark god Maton might have knelt before his magic. Throughout every battle, he showed no hesitation, no weakness, and not a shred of mercy as he crushed Maton’s offspring.  

“It was impossible not to feel a sense of awe,” Theon finally said.

People tended to cower in Theon’s presence. Even those who’d done nothing wrong often hesitated, intimidated by his sheer presence. Over the years, he’d seen countless people turn meek before him, and for a long time, he hadn’t understood the emotion of awe. It wasn’t until six years ago, while watching that man drive monsters off the great plains with unparalleled magic, that he truly grasped how those who stood before him must’ve felt.  

“But now…”

“Mmhmm.”

“……”

Now, Theon knew that all of that overwhelming, awe-inspiring power had been possible only because of Rothy. For that reason, the awe he’d once felt had turned into disdain many times over. That was what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice it.  

“Yeah… you used to admire him. But now, why—…?”

It was because Rothy looked as though he was the one being praised. To think that after enduring such horrific abuse, he still held so much affection for that man.  

Theon felt a pang of pity for the child Rothy had been—forced to rely on such a vile figure because there’d been no adults to care for him. At the same time, his pure, untainted heart, seemingly incapable of hatred, left him speechless. Unable to bring himself to offer any praise for the archmage, Theon changed the subject instead.  

“I’ve never had a proper conversation with him. But there was this one time… we had a very peculiar conversation… About the sky and the sea…”

As he said this, a glimmer of what looked like delight flickered in Rothy’s eyes. Just as Theon began to wonder about it—

“Number forty-three! Customer number forty-three! Your cake and drinks are ready!”

He glanced at the number etched on the wooden token. It was forty-three. He finally understood why they’d handed it to him. In the past, they’d deliver orders straight to the table. Fifteen years was indeed a long time. Carrying the tray, which held two cups and a slice of cake topped with a large strawberry, Theon walked back across the room. Patrons stole glances at him as he passed.  

Those who weren’t looking at Theon were entirely focused on Rothy. Normally, Rothy would’ve shrunk under their gazes, but today, he was smiling brightly, rubbing his cheek affectionately against Chi-chi. 

“He said it was impossible not to feel a sense of awe. Theon even remembers the conversation…”

It was one of the most joyful and delighted expressions Theon had ever seen on him. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes were gleaming like an aurora, and his smile radiated pure happiness.  

Does he really take that much joy in praise for his master?

He set the tray down and handed a fork to Rothy, who accepted with a beaming smile, like a flower in full bloom. From that point on, Rothy didn’t ask Theon about the conversation he’d had with his master. Theon, for his part, had no desire to talk about that man, so their discussion moved on to other topics. 

The next day, Theon and his aide set out for Baron Nymphea’s estate. 

Aephys was one of the empire’s rare magic-friendly cities, with Baron Nymphea, its mayor, a third-grade mage with a six-grade mage as his guard. Concerned they might discover Rothy’s secret, Theon left him behind at the inn. 

“Why’ve you arranged separate lodgings, Your Grace? Is my estate not to your liking? Just yesterday, I pleaded with Dame Zeynith to have you stay here, but she wouldn’t budge.”

“An external lodging’s more convenient. I’ll only be staying for two nights. Staying here would just create unnecessary formalities.”

“Even after fifteen years, you’re still the same,” Baron Nymphea remarked with a faint smile as he looked at Theon.  

Theon downed his tea in one gulp. It was served at the perfect temperature, but he’d no intention of lingering. Rothy would be uneasy without him. 

“I’ve heard about the generosity you’ve shown to the North during our difficult times. We never forget our debts, Baron. Rest assured, this kindness will be repaid. If there’s anything you desire, name it.”

“I desire nothing, Your Grace. If anything, I owe you my thanks. I was endlessly ashamed to hide in the safety of my estate, listening to the tales of your valour, while I couldn’t join the battlefield. Thank you for protecting the Empire, for protecting Araxys.”

The warm exchange of gratitude flowed smoothly, yet Theon couldn’t fully trust Baron Nymphea. Over the years, the quantity of silk Nymphea had sent to Falsen exceeded three times the amount used within Aephys itself. And yet, the baron claimed to expect nothing in return? Such goodwill, devoid of any apparent motive, defied logic.  

Baron Nymphea remained calm, even as Theon’s brows furrowed, as though he’d anticipated the reaction. 

“House Falsen isn’t alone in remembering debts. Your Grace, do you know how long Nymphea and Falsen have been on good terms?”

“I’ve heard it dates back four generations.”

“Yes, that’s correct. My grandfather told me the story… At the time, his aunt’s lifelong attendant contracted magic sickness. As you know, demon blood’s an essential ingredient in its treatment. While magic sickness has been exonerated, and demon blood’s openly traded nowadays, back then, magic sickness was considered a sign of collusion with demons.”

The baron gave a bitter smile. 

“Every other territory severed trade, saying they couldn’t associate with such a ‘tainted’ family. Given the perception of magical sickness at the time, it was inevitable. I hold no grudge against them for that. But when our people were on the brink of starvation, the one who extended a hand to us without expecting anything in return was none other than Duke Saire Charlotte Falsen.”

Saire Charlotte Falsen was Theon’s great-grandmother.