The Amber Knight Swears His Love on the Saintess’s Left Hand - Chapter 26

The morning after his suspension lifted was overcast, the gray sky a perfect mirror of Quill’s current mood. He donned his knight’s uniform for the first time in days and stepped out of the townhouse.

The bag packed with Lynette’s belongings was heavily weighted. He had asked her multiple times if she truly needed so much; at this rate, it felt as though she was emptying her entire room.

“Four months for a woman requires many things. I cannot make do with a single sword as you do, Lord Quill.”

“I… I see.”

As Lynette moved to board the carriage, Adele threw herself at her.

“You have to come back! Promise, promise! I’ll make so many flower crowns to welcome you home!”

Lars gently coaxed Adele away. Lynette pressed a kiss to the crying girl’s forehead, embraced her once, and smiled. After a final parting hug with Quill’s mother, Lynette finally stepped into the carriage.

“It isn’t certain that you’ll depart immediately today, right?”

“If the formation of the escort unit is complete, I imagine we will move at once. This is a matter concerning the Cathedral’s prestige.”

“Surely, Lord Claussen won’t be the captain again?”

“Who knows? If it is him, I already know how to handle him, so I might actually be more at ease.”

Despite her light words, Lynette’s expression was stiff. Quill eventually fell silent as well.

Before long, the Cathedral came into view, and the carriage stopped before the gates. As Quill moved to stand, Lynette gripped his hand tightly. Sensing her anxiety, Quill squeezed back before opening the door.

As Quill stepped out first, something hard struck his back.

It was a stone wrapped in one of those slanderous posters. It rolled to his feet. Scanning the area, Quill saw the boy who had collected the posters yesterday; he was looking at Quill with a face on the verge of tears.

Behind the boy, other children of a similar age peered out from the shadows, watching the boy’s every move. Their fine clothing marked them immediately as the sons of high-ranking nobility.

It was painfully transparent.

This was exactly why Quill had told the boy to leave the posters alone. The boy must have continued tearing down the malice even after their talk, and the other children were retaliating.

Quill sent the boy the softest look he could manage, trying to convey that it was okay.

Then, he reached his hand back into the carriage for Lynette.

Lynette was staring at Quill, her eyebrows knitted tightly. She looked as if she were desperately fighting back tears.

“What is wrong?”

When Quill asked, Lynette squeezed her eyes shut. She exhaled slowly, as if steadying her heart.

When she opened her eyes again, she was gone.

In her place was the beautiful, hollow doll—the same face she had worn the day she first entered the Langbart estate.

She brushed past Quill’s hand and stepped down from the carriage.

She grabbed her heavy luggage herself, straightened her back with icy dignity, and let the long hem of her Saint’s vestments flutter behind her.

“Lady Ceryes?”

Lynette did not stop. She reached the gates, thrust her luggage toward the gatekeeper, and finally turned back to face Quill. In her hand, she gripped a small knife.

“Lord Quill Langbart.”

Her smile was a social ornament. She called his name with a coldness that made him feel like a complete stranger.

“You asked why I chose you, did you not?”

“Yes, and yesterday you—”

“It is because if you hadn’t saved me, I would never have had to become the Saint.”

Quill’s throat hitched.

The children watching from the shadows, the adults casting silent, malicious glares—everyone began to gather at the gate to see what drama was unfolding.

The sky darkened. A single drop of rain struck Quill’s shoulder.

“The duty of the Saint is to be embraced by the soul residing within the Holy Sword. Every day, every hour, from the moment I wake until I sleep, my body is violated and defiled from the inside out by a formless will.”

The gatekeeper shouted toward the Cathedral in a panic. A Cathedral official came rushing out and grabbed Lynette’s arm.

At that moment, Lynette began to laugh. High and piercing, as if she had lost her mind. She shook off the official’s hand, drew the knife, and threw the sheath aside.

“Because you wouldn’t let me die, I have been ravaged and subjected to agony so great I could barely stay sane for two years. As thanks, I wanted to drag you into my miserable destiny.”

“…Lady Ceryes.”

“Even the Ceryes name was your doing! You gave it all to me that day, and in doing so, you robbed me of everything!”

Lynette laughed in the rain.

She raised her left hand and used the tip of the knife to hook the Pledge Lock.

“Wait!”

A high voice rang across the plaza. Splashing through the water collecting on the cobblestones, Crown Princess Juliana came running.

“No! You mustn’t give up! I promised you I would make it happen!”

“What more can Your Highness possibly do?”

The cold, dismissive voice was swallowed by the intensifying rain.

Quill supported Juliana as she nearly collapsed to her knees, his eyes searching for the truth inside Lynette. For the emotions that had to be there.

But the rain hid her. It washed away her expression.

“Goodbye, Lord Quill. Thank you for the cruel dream.”

Snap. The Pledge Lock was severed.

The fragile leather cord offered no resistance as it left Lynette’s wrist and fell to the stones. The blue stone—a color that didn’t even begin to match the depth of her eyes—bounced two, three times before rolling to Quill’s feet.

Lynette turned her back, and the gates groaned shut. The world where the Saint lived and the world of Quill were separated by a single iron barrier.

Quill rushed to the gate and gripped the bars. He cried out, clinging to the clattering metal.

“Lady Ceryes… Lynette!”

Lynette did not look back, though her left hand trembled ever so slightly.

As the rain poured down, none of the gathered crowd left the plaza.

Quill stood his ground, watching until Lynette vanished behind the Cathedral doors. The moment they closed, he forced his rigid body to move and turned on his heel.

Someone near the gate muttered, “What a wicked woman.” Quill shot them a look so sharp the person immediately recoiled and hid among the murmuring crowd.

Prince Leonard was suddenly standing by the carriage. Supporting the trembling Juliana, he watched as she reached out to hand Quill an envelope.

“Lord Langbart, it’s not true. Lynette truly…”

“I know.”

The moment he had called her name. Her left hand had definitely trembled behind those gates. If she truly hated him, she would have raised her right hand in a gesture of dismissal. She hadn’t.

Lynette’s hands never lied to him.

He took the envelope, shielding it from the rain as he opened it. Inside was the final page torn from Lynette’s notebook.

“She said she couldn’t keep it because she was too greedy. So, I held onto it for her. My Lord, please…”

“Lia, it’s alright.”

Leonard gently cut her off.

In the silence of the falling rain, Quill held Lynette’s greatest wish in his hand.

“I want an amber Pledge Lock.”

—Ah. Truly, we…

They hadn’t even begun yet.

“Quill. I will ask you one last time. Are you prepared to accept the engagement to Lynette Ceryes?”

Leonard asked him if he would throw it all away.

Quill reached through his knight’s tunic and gripped the key hidden against his chest. In a puddle at his feet, he saw the phantom of Lynette’s smile from yesterday, only for it to be shattered by the rain.

Without knowing what she carries, how can I protect anything?

Quill reached up, ripped the rank insignia from his black uniform, and thrust it toward Leonard.

“I accept.”

He cast aside every shred of hesitation. With a single, short phrase, he declared that he needed no further titles or ornaments.

Leonard did not smile this time. He nodded solemnly and made his declaration over the sound of the rain.

“Quill Langbart. As of this moment, you are struck from the rolls of the Knights.”

Leonard took the insignia from Quill’s hand and whispered in his ear.

“I will have the permit issued by tomorrow. I’ve made arrangements to take you into my personal guard for the time being. For today, return to the manor—”

“Give me permission now.”

Quill cut him off. He didn’t want to wait a single day. It was all he could do to suppress the urge to start running.

“…I suppose you’re right. Very well. The permit can follow later. Open the Forbidden Archives.”

Quill moved to give a knight’s salute to the merciful decision, then stopped himself.

He clenched his fist tight and lowered his head to Leonard in a formal noble’s bow.

Roughly shaking off the hand of the pale-faced Cathedral official, Lynette stared straight ahead and began to walk.

She cast her usual social smile at those in the corridor who watched the Saint as if she were a volatile explosive. To a man, they awkwardly looked away.

Lynette knew. She knew that many of them had pressed their ears to the doors, listening for her whimpers.

She knew that while they praised her as “Exalted” with their lips, they mocked and pitied the “defiled sacrifice” in their hearts.

She knew the Cathedral and the Old Guard nobility were forming an alliance. She knew her uncle was involved.

They all assumed she was a little girl who understood nothing.

The abbreviated pilgrimage was an opportunity. The Old Guard intended to bring the sons of the New Guard and the White Knights into their fold. Conversely, the Royal Family was looking for an excuse to wipe out the Old Guard once and for all. Using the Saint as a shield, their schemes were flying thick and fast.

“Lady Saint, I shall inform you of the departure date—”

“No.”

“Pardon?”

The Saint had her own way of fighting.

“The Holy Sword wishes to remain in Eiklant. Let no one interfere until I have persuaded it otherwise.”

“But—!”

“Do you intend to anger the King of Swords and turn Eiklant into a wasteland?”

The official flinched and fell silent. Was he shocked by her words, or simply that she had dared to talk back?

Satisfied by his idiotic expression, she placed her hand on the door to the Chamber of the Holy Sword. The voice of the sword, currently raging at the Saint’s defiance, rang loudly in Lynette’s ears alone.

She felt the anger and pain within her chest.

It was okay. As long as she had the emotions Quill gave her.

She would never lose.