The Amber Knight Swears His Love on the Saintess’s Left Hand - Chapter 7

“So, you actually ran away!”

Laughter echoed through the Commander’s office of the Black Knights from early morning. The owner of that boisterous, earth-shaking voice was Commander Geis Kirsten, a massive man in his forties.

Rubbing his scarred chin and scratching his cropped, light-brown hair, Geis squinted his hazel eyes in amusement. A common trait among those from southern Eiklant.

This morning, Quill had hurriedly shoveled breakfast into his mouth, scrambled to get dressed, and bolted back to the barracks. Even so, he couldn’t shake the restless fog in his mind. He had headed out to the training grounds to swing his sword thinking he’d start early only to be intercepted by Geis.

“Don’t be so quick to doubt her intentions. I doubt the Saint is the type of person who can feel enough interest in things to approach you out of mere curiosity.”

“But if that isn’t it, I don’t understand her reason for choosing me.”

“Stubborn as ever, aren’t you?” Geis replied with a sigh of exasperation.

Quill responded with a simple shrug.

Geis was the man who had handed Quill a sword and taken him into the Order. He had known Quill since he was twelve and claimed to be like a second father to him. Quill didn’t entirely disagree, but he was far too prideful to ever admit it to the man’s face.

Quill looked down at a corner of the training grounds outside the window and sighed.

“And what, exactly, is that crowd?”

“Spectators who gathered to get a glimpse of your mug.”

“This is a training ground, not an arena, you know.”

“The White Knights let them in on their own authority. It seems those lot are quite dissatisfied with the Saint’s engagement.”

The engagement between Quill and Lynette had become official yesterday when she left the sanctuary, and it had been publicly announced by the Royal Family.

The Saint’s fiancé was not a royal, nor even the heir to a noble house. The news had spread through the capital like wildfire, and the whole city had been buzzing since dawn.

Rather than a White Knight, who had served as her guardians for two years. A Black Knight, with whom she supposedly had no connection, had been chosen. This had wounded the pride of the White Knights, an Order comprised of sons from prestigious noble families. Today’s training had been changed to a joint mock battle between the Black and White Knights at their request. The decision had been made yesterday, after Quill had already left for his family manor.

The members of the Black Knights had gleefully accepted, finding the whole thing hilarious. They had no intention of declining out of “consideration” for Quill. In fact, they seemed to view their comrade’s sudden, outrageous engagement as some kind of festival.

“And in this situation, you’re telling me to participate in the mock battle?”

“Be happy. It’s a direct invitation from Sir Claussen.”

“Urgh…”

A sound like a squashed frog escaped Quill’s throat.

Of all people, Marius Claussen. A man who had joined the Order at the same time as Quill and now served as the Captain of the Second Squad of the White Knights. He was the very captain who had led the Saint’s guard. No doubt he was the architect of this mock battle.

“Lady Ceryes should have just nominated Sir Claussen. She would have been secure as a Marchioness, and it would have been a choice the public could accept.”

“Don’t look at me. Only the Saint knows what the Saint is thinking.”

It was the same for Commander Geis, for his colleagues, for the White Knights, and for the citizens.

Probably everyone was thinking the exact same thing right now:

Why Quill Langbart?

As a result, the training grounds were packed with spectators, making the already cramped space even tighter. The White Knights were in a state of protest, while his own colleagues were in a festive mood.

Down below, he could see his fellow Black Knights swinging their swords despite the chaotic atmosphere.

“I apologize for the trouble.”

The apology that slipped from his lips was directed at all his comrades. He felt guilty for bringing this chaos upon the people who had welcomed an “outcast” like him into the Order.

“Don’t talk about your own happy news like that.”

Can this really be called ‘happy news’? To Quill, it felt like nothing but a burden.

“So, the mock battle has been turned into a public event, then.”

Normally, public matches only happened once a year. The Autumn Exhibition Matches attended by the King and Crown Prince. But this time, it was an extraordinary public opening proposed by the White Knights. The pretext: “In celebration of the Saint’s engagement.” What kind of celebratory match was this? Quill had a mounting headache.

While he had been suffering through his dinner last night, the Order must have been busy drawing up today’s match brackets. This engagement was truly a nuisance.

Just as he let out another massive sigh, there was a knock at the door. Sascha Barchet, Captain of the First Squad of the Black Knights, burst in, panting for breath.

“Quill! You wait down there!”

“Ah, sorry. For stirring everyone up.”

Sascha had bright chestnut hair and green eyes. He claimed to have immigrant blood somewhere in his lineage, but his appearance was common enough in Eiklant.

Sascha was also one of Quill’s peers; he led the First Squad while Quill led the Second. They were colleagues and close friends.

The friend waved his hands frantically at Quill’s apology and gasped for air.

“No! The Saint! She’s here!”

At those words, Quill bolted out of the room in shock.

The area below should be a madhouse of spectators and festival-like commotion. Why would she come at a time like this? he cursed inwardly.

He had ended their conversation last night in such a manner, and this morning he hadn’t even engaged with her when she looked like she wanted to talk.

Even so, he never expected her to charge straight into the lion’s den.

He stepped out onto the training grounds.

There, standing at a distance from the crowd under the shade of a tree with a parasol in hand, was his fiancée.