Every night, Gilbert had the same nightmare.
It wasn’t an unrealistic or bizarre dream.
It was just that same night over and over again.
The pitchless voice fell, his words sounding disastrous to Gilbert’s ears.
[“In the end, aren’t we equally divided into classes? Yes, the blood didn’t go anywhere. Tell me, was it really just two of you in the desert at that time? The other brothers weren’t there.”]
Those bright blue eyes saw through everything.
But Gilbert wanted to say that it was a misunderstanding, that it was true, that it was unfair, that he was resentful, that he also regretted it, that he couldn’t even kill Regen.
His throat was blocked and he couldn’t say it.
How can I reach that level?
What the hell should I do?
Despite becoming one of the greatest figures in the empire, Gilbert could only look at the feet of the Grand Duke.
He woke up from the nightmare again, screaming.
The sun rose and it was morning. After being sent off by Regen, huge carriages like small castles went on their way.
The Kallakis family had quite a few carriages.
All of them had designs that seemed to have been in fashion 100 years ago, so they were carriages in urgent need of renovation and repair.
The butler reported that it took a full day just to brush off the dust.
The butler then explained that all the carriages currently owned by the family were owned by the previous Grand Duke and Grand Duchess.
In other words Aedis, the current Grand Duke, had never bought a carriage.
No wonder the carriages of the Kallakis family I saw in the capital looked unusual.
The wagons had roofs, wheels, and were entirely pitch black.
They didn’t have time to repair them, so they just painted them all black.
But that was also what the butler liked, and the carriage we were now riding in was also recently painted a shiny black.
However this time, unlike in those days, there had been time to spare so the doors and interiors of the wagons were now elegantly decorated with emeralds and the seats had been replaced.
And I found out one strange, mysterious fact.
The wagons of the Grand Duchy were as old as those used by the previous Grand Duke, but their warming and strengthening magic was still functioning.
The butler was confident that he didn’t even need to check.
It was really crazy considering the fact that no matter how much magic you poured out, the validity of installation magic was difficult to make last more than 10 years.
Our first destination, the Rosa Estate, was closer to Cyclamen Castle than the other estates.
I was told that if we pushed forward, we could arrive there tomorrow morning.
Aedis, who isn’t interested in the North, did not calculate the distance.
Apart from having good sociability, of course, Procyon, a new member of the Knights, is not.
“The Rosa Manor is actually not that influential in the North. It is only well-liked because it’s near the Eire Forest. That’s how special the Eire Forest is in Esmeralda. The trees there grow up to 100 meters in size and have a very long lifespan. The oldest tree is said to have lived for about a thousand years.”
“There is also a legend about them feeling pain, so the first Grand Duke restricts logging. So now only dead ones are cut and used, but when it is unavoidable to cut down alive, a ritual to comfort trees is always held.”
“Sir Procyon? Please keep your admiration to yourself.”
Agena, who was acting as our guide, gave Procyon a warning.
Three knights stayed with me and Aedis in the carriage.
It was a formal procedure, almost like a show.
The carriage was just a little smaller than Regen’s bedroom, so it felt spacious even with five people.
In addition, the wheels were meticulously and specially treated because they had to advance through the snow.
Thanks to that, the inside of the carriage was not stuffy and the ride was comfortable, so I was satisfied.
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We were going to be escorted by knights like this for an hour after departure and an hour just before arrival.
Procyon was very innocent, though.
He said that even if 100 of the best knights in the Empire attacked at the same time, they would not be able to touch even one of my fingertips.
When I asked why it wasn’t Aedis’s fingertips but my fingertips, his eyes turned back to me and gave me a look as if asking if that was an actual question.
Even in Procyon’s eyes, it seemed that Aedis cared about me a lot.