"Then the time has come. I will dispose of you before the knights he sent arrive."
"Wait a moment."
"Are you going to beg for your life now?"
"No."
Roxana shook her head and struggled to sit up.
"It’s my last wish before I die, so could you help me sit up?"
"Does it have any meaning?"
"To me, it does."
She wanted to see the people who would protect Curtis and Frey one last time before she died. She felt that would allow her to rest a little easier.
Hesitating for a moment at this strange request, Greg grabbed her arm and pulled her into a proper sitting position. Seeing his face, Roxana lowered her neck to make it easier for him to strike.
"Please, do it in one blow. I don't want to suffer, and it would be troublesome for you to clean up the bloodstains."
"……I will."
Nodding with an unreadable expression, Greg tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. The moment his blade rose, Roxana quietly urged him.
"And if you can, leave this carriage behind. It will be easy to track."
That was the moment. Along with the sound of horses galloping, a sharp voice rang out.
"Greg!"
The source of the roar was none other than Curtis. Riding at a terrifying speed, Curtis aimed his bow from atop his horse and let an arrow fly.
"Ugh……!"
The sword that had been raised as if to strike immediately plunged into the ground. Staggering, Greg clutched his arm, which had been pierced by the arrow.
"Seize him at once!"
At Curtis’s command, the knights who had followed him rushed forward and apprehended him.
* * *
Wrapped in a blanket, Roxana climbed onto the back of Curtis’s horse and returned to the castle. Greg, whose hands and feet were bound just as hers had been, followed behind like a criminal, loaded into the carriage.
As soon as they returned to the castle, Curtis ordered in a fierce voice for Greg to be locked in the dungeon, then checked on her condition.
"I’m fine."
Contrary to her words, her body was trembling. Curtis’s eyes narrowed as he scanned Roxana’s body thoroughly. There was a wound on her elbow. Roxana quickly made an excuse.
"That’s the only injury."
It was a small wound she had sustained when she fell from the carriage to the ground. While the physician treated her wounds, Curtis stood with his arms crossed, staring down at her without blinking. Under the oppressive weight of his presence, Roxana lowered her head. She had done nothing wrong, but feeling his gaze, she eventually parted her lips.
"What about…… Sir Greg?"
"In the dungeon."
Curtis replied irritably, then discovered the wound on Roxana’s neck that she had been hiding with her hair. The temperature in the room plummeted instantly at his savage glare.
"Th-then, I shall take my leave now, My Lord."
Pale with chills, the physician bowed politely and hurriedly fled the room.
Left alone, Roxana felt as if she were facing a wild beast in a cold, dark cave. Biting her lower lip, she impulsively offered an excuse.
"I provoked him."
Curtis, who had run a hand through his disheveled hair as if he found her words absurd, leaned his back against the wall with a look that suggested he was waiting to hear what she had to say. Composing herself, Roxana continued calmly.
"He didn't intend to kill me. Of course, that might have been his intention when he kidnapped me."
"Sophistry."
"Greg is an excellent knight. If he had truly intended to kill me, he would have brought his sword down immediately, even with an arrow in his arm."
It was an argument he couldn't refute. Narrowing his eyes, Curtis stared at the wound on her neck and pushed himself off the wall.
"Go and rest."
"Curtis."
Roxana called out to him urgently, but no answer came. Curtis turned his back and slammed the door open as he left.
Fortunately, the wound on Roxana’s neck was not deep, so it healed quickly. However, while it was healing, Roxana could not leave her room due to Curtis’s house arrest order. On the third day, Roxana called for Robert through Kesi. Robert wore a troubled expression at her request.
"The punishment for Sir Greg?"
"Yes. I know it’s inconvenient, but…… I’m curious."
"That is……."
The castle had been turned upside down by the actions of Greg, who had been known for his integrity and deep loyalty. Around the round table, opinions were sharply divided between those who insisted Greg should be severely punished immediately and those who argued for a reduced sentence in light of his past service.
Amidst the conflicting arguments, one thing was certain: Greg could no longer remain in this castle. The crime of kidnapping the woman of the lord he served—even if she was not his official wife—and attempting to kill her was grave.
In the end, the punishment decided upon was to let him choose for himself.
Either commit suicide, or be dishonorably exiled after having an arm or leg severed. Even that was only possible because this incident had ended in an attempt.
"Suicide…… or having an arm or leg severed……."
Roxana repeated Robert’s words, turning pale at the cruel punishment. Robert explained with a somber face.
"They spared him from execution in recognition of his long years of service. Suicide is at least an honorable way to die. He can even have a tombstone erected. If he chooses to have an arm or leg severed, he can at least preserve his life."
"What happens after death doesn't matter. And do you really think Sir Greg would choose to have his arm or life taken? They say it’s a choice, but in reality, this is just forced death."
"That is……."
"I may be a woman, but I know. For a knight, isn't being unable to hold a sword—being unable to go to war—a greater disgrace than death?"
He could not bring himself to lie and say otherwise. Robert quietly lowered his head.
"Butler."
"……Yes."
At his weak response, Roxana asked tentatively.
"You don't want Sir Greg to die like this either, do you?"
"That…… is true, but."
Although they were not particularly close, they were colleagues who had eaten and lived together in the same castle. Even setting aside his position as a colleague and looking at it from the perspective of the castle’s butler, Greg was a man too valuable to lose. He was an excellent captain of the guard and a reliable soldier.
"Then help me."
Roxana asked with a faint smile. Realizing what she meant, Robert slowly shook his head.
"I…… I cannot do that. The sentence is already set to be carried out tomorrow……."
"So it’s tomorrow. I’m glad I asked today, at least."
Robert, who had covered his mouth too late, shook his head. Roxana, holding onto him as he tried to find a way out, pleaded earnestly.
"You must help me, Butler. Not for my sake, but for the Lord’s."
* * *
There was no one who could refuse the tearful plea of a beauty. While regretting it inwardly, Robert eventually handed the key to the dungeon to Roxana.
"When the midnight bell rings, the guards will leave their posts briefly for the shift change. You can go in then."
"Thank you so much, Butler."
"I repeat, you must not let anyone see you."
"Don't worry."
Roxana smiled, pulled her robe deep over her head, and headed toward the dungeon. As expected, when the bell rang, the guards who had been strictly watching the entrance left their posts for a moment. Taking a deep breath, Roxana opened the heavy iron door and stepped into the dark, gloomy dungeon. It was a terrible place where the sound of dripping water, the squeaking of rats, and a foul stench that felt like it would make one’s nose fall off were all mixed together.
"Sir Greg."
She had heard there were no guards inside, but just in case, Roxana called out to Greg in a hushed voice.
"Sir Greg. Where are you?"
Only after she called out once more did a reaction come. Along with the sound of dragging chains, a rough voice was heard from nearby.
"……Why are you here."
"So you were here."
Confirming there were no guards, Roxana took off her robe and lit a candle she had brought with a match. In an instant, the pitch-black dungeon was filled with bright light.
"Why…… did you come here."
Roxana’s eyes widened as she flinched at his haggard face through the bars. Greg, who chuckled at her reaction, asked with detachment.
"Did you come to shower me with curses?"
"……No."
Roxana quietly shook her head and passed the key she had received from Robert through the bars.
"I came to give you this. To tell you to run away today."
"……The more I see you, the less I understand. What on earth is in your head?"
Instead of taking the key, Greg glared at Roxana and shook his head.
"Are the words 'hatred' and 'anger' not in your vocabulary? Did you hit your head hard when you were young?"
At his sarcasm, Roxana confessed candidly.
"Of course not. I’m human, too. When you tried to kill me, I was scared and angry."
"Then leave me be. Or……."
As if something had suddenly occurred to him, Greg, who had been silent, asked quietly.
"Are you doing this because you want to see me die at Curtis’s hands while I’m trying to escape?"
"……."
"If so, give up. I have no intention of being toyed with by a witch until the moment I die. I would rather die honorably than live as a coward."
Greg, having brushed off Roxana’s hand, laid his body down on the cold stone floor. Roxana, watching him blankly, asked slowly.
"Is honor really that important?"
"……What?"
"When we reunited, Curtis said that if he had possessed chivalry, he would have died on the battlefield long ago."
"……."
It was a statement that had embedded itself in her ears and would not disappear. In truth, when she encountered him again after believing he was dead, that atmosphere, that time, and that conversation had circled in Roxana’s mind for the past two years. Even when she tried to erase it or forget it, it repeated itself so often that she remembered every word they had exchanged back then.
0 Comments