The Amber Knight Swears His Love on the Saintess’s Left Hand - Chapter 3

Quill stood there, brooding over what, exactly, his “older sister” of a maid had been scolding him for. As he pondered, a set of light, rhythmic footsteps approached.

“Brother Coo! Welcome home!”

It was his younger sister, Adele. With her golden hair lightly curled and adorned with ribbons, she was clearly dressed up for tonight’s banquet. Quill noted with a touch of wonder how much she had grown; a child in their growth spurt can look like a completely different person after just six months.

He scooped up the rushing Adele into his arms. Instantly, her face turned beet red.

“I’m not a little child anymore, you know!”

“You’re ten this year, right? I just thought you’d gotten big.”

“Honestly! Put me down this instant!”

Adele had been born when Quill was fifteen. With such a wide age gap, he tended to treat her like a permanent toddler. A habit that frequently drew her ire.

“And here I came running because you looked like you were in trouble!”

Her “grown-up” tone was amusing. Quill couldn’t help but chuckle at this precocious side of her he hadn’t seen before. At his laughter, Adele puffed out her cheeks. Yep, still a child, he thought.

He set the little lady down and gave her head a light pat.

“I was just thinking about something. No need to worry.”

“Did something happen with the Saint?”

Instead of answering, Quill straightened Adele’s messy bangs.

His sister’s eyes were filled with genuine concern, leaving him with nothing but a wry smile. Whether it was back when he was ruthlessly shredding marriage proposals or now that he was officially engaged, Quill’s marital status seemed to be a source of great anxiety for his family.

“Nicola scolded me because the Pledge Lock wasn’t expensive enough.”

“……Knowing you, Brother, I can perfectly imagine what you were thinking and what kind of thing you bought.”

“Is that so? You’re quite sharp, Adele.”

“You don’t have to be sharp to figure that out.”

“Isn’t that right?” Adele added, looking behind her.

Lars, their older brother, had just finished climbing the stairs and was watching the scene with an entertained grin.

“Go easy on him, Adele. I’m sure Quill put deep thought into various factors like efficiency, significance, and budget.”

Lars spoke as if defending him, but unfortunately, Quill couldn’t bring himself to nod. He had considered those points, but “deep thought” was a stretch for something he’d grabbed the moment he walked into the shop and looked around.

“Still, I had no idea you and the Saint had a connection, Brother.”

At her age, Adele was naturally burning with curiosity about how her brother and a Saint had crossed paths.

The House of Ceryes was Old Faction; the House of Langbart was New Faction. Socially, there was no overlap, and furthermore, Quill was a Black Knight. Unlike the polished White Knights, the Black Knights—who dealt primarily with actual combat were poorly regarded by the refined high nobility, especially the Old Faction. They were often called “savage” or “blood-stained”—harsh words for men who put their lives on the line.

Between the Black Knight Quill and the Saint Lynette, what kind of fated encounter had led to this? Adele’s young, romantic heart was likely dreaming of a grand fairy tale.

“There wasn’t one.”

“There wasn’t what?”

“A connection. We haven’t even met before.”

Yes. He was certain of it now.

Since he had been specifically nominated, he assumed there must have been some occasion where they’d spoken without him realizing she was the Saint. After all, the word was that she recognized him.

But just now, standing face-to-face with his fiancée in that room, not a single memory had been stirred.

Even Quill, who was admittedly indifferent to romance, had judged her a beauty at first sight. Silver-blonde hair and blue eyes were hardly common features in Eiklant.

A woman that beautiful? If he had met her somewhere, even Quill would have remembered.

“I don’t have the slightest clue. I think it might be a mistake. So, I’ll have to check with her later—”

“I beg of you, do not say that to the Saint! You’ll have the engagement broken in ten seconds flat!”

“But if it’s a misunderstanding, I’d feel terrible for her.”

“A woman has finally appeared who isn’t bothered by your eyes, and yet you’re being so pessimistic! Why!?”

“Calm down, Addy.”

Lars covered Adele’s mouth and hoisted her up.

“If you shout like that, Lady Lynette will hear you.”

Adele clamped her hands over her own mouth and lowered her eyebrows apologetically.

“Quill. Bring Lady Lynette down to the dining hall. We’re all having dinner together tonight. And at least change into your civilian clothes. Wearing a knight’s uniform to your first dinner with your fiancée is a bit dry.”

“I don’t think she’s the type of person to care about such things.”

“It’s not about whether she cares; it’s about manners. If you’ve given her a Pledge Lock, you must welcome her properly.”

Lars then lightly covered Adele’s ears and whispered to Quill:

“Coo, if you really think this is impossible, you can refuse. Don’t worry about the family; just think of yourself.”

“Even if our house is fine, it might spark a fire that reaches Sister-in-law’s family.”

“It’ll be fine. Hilde would say the same thing.”

His sister-in-law, Hilde, was truly kind to both Quill and Adele. Because he knew his brother wasn’t lying, Quill felt even more guilty. He felt pathetic for having accepted this just to avoid evening balls.

“Addy, Brother… I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll be fine. I just never expected a proposal to come my way, and to be honest, she is a lady of such exceptional beauty. It feels a bit much for someone like me. That’s all.”

“Brother. It’s okay. The world isn’t as obsessed with handsome men as you think it is.”

“Alright, Addy. Let’s go wait in the dining hall. Come on.”

Lars walked away with a frozen smile, carrying Adele. Her retreating voice provided a parting “comfort” that wasn’t particularly comforting: “If you’d just be more sociable, you’d look at least a little bit better!”

The vase on the hallway stand was polished to a high shine, reflecting Quill’s face like a mirror. He usually avoided mirrors because he detested his own eyes. Even looking at himself now, he couldn’t find a single thing to praise. Amidst a family of golden hair and green eyes, his black hair and red eyes made him stand out like a sore thumb.

His appearance, if traced back far enough, originated from a lost little country called Betzyraft, far from Eiklant. Quill had inherited the traits of that fallen nation with startling clarity.

Nowadays, even finding black hair in the capital was difficult. To have that coupled with dark red eyes made him a rarity and an unwelcome one at that.

He was like a rare beast in a zoo.

Lynette’s family, the House of Ceryes, was a prestigious lineage that had served the Crown since before the founding of Eiklant. No matter how much the Old Faction had faded, surely a woman like her wouldn’t be so desperate as to settle for a “freak of nature” like him.

To choose a rare beast over royalty or high nobility.She must have incredibly eccentric tastes.