367: Loyal knights

Loyal knights

Egon released the cape and rose to his feet, a satisfied smile on his face as he looked down at his son. Noctavian, on the other hand, didn't appear thrilled about the exchange at all, but there was a distinct lack of regret in his brown eyes.1

"From this point forward, you shall address me as 'Your Highness,' while I shall address you informally," the Crown Prince said, though he refrained from uttering the name 'Egon,' as he couldn't bring himself to use what held significance for his mother so casually.

"I understand," Egon replied, maintaining his confident smile as if the world had suddenly become his playground.

Though not a moment had passed since the oath, the Crown Prince found the knight's demeanor incredibly irksome.

"I am a stern ruler, and the platoon responsible for my protection operates independently from the Order of Knights under Her Excellency's command. They are a select group, handpicked by both his Majesty and me, and their loyalty is first and foremost to me..."

Noctavian's brown eyes lit up with a secret spark. 

"...The position of their leader remains vacant as anyone who wishes to claim it must prove their battle prowess by challenging me. So far, none have dared to do so, and thus, the position remains unfilled. Are you interested in vying for the position?"

"No," Egon's response was curt yet respectful. "Instead, I would like you to reconsider my earlier offer now that I am officially one of your knights. It won't be a matter of bestowing knowledge upon you, it would be me following your command once you give it. Right?"

While Egon's tone lacked condescension, Adela could see how Noctavian felt uneasy, subtly pressured into the path that Egon desired. This type of persuasion was unfamiliar territory for Noctavian as it was not the way Adela had raised him.

Uncertain of how to feel about the situation, she decided it was finally time to intervene.

"…Your Highness," Adela began, but she halted when she noticed that both her son and Egon were focused on something behind her. She turned around, her tension mounting as she awaited whatever was approaching.

She heard him before she truly saw him – Viscount Mathew. His arm was bandaged, and his neck was encased in a cast. He approached her with deliberate steps, his clear blue eyes and dignified expression oblivious to the noisy way his feet seemed to find every twig and obstacle on the ground.

Adela's feet moved toward the Viscount before her mind fully processed the action. She was driven by her solemn belief that the man should be resting in bed after narrowly avoiding death the day before. There was no summons or emergency that warranted his presence here, especially at this particular place and time.

As her footsteps quickened, the Viscount's pace increased too, but due to the severe injury in his thigh, the loyal knight lost his balance and tumbled awkwardly to the ground.

"Viscount!" Adela exclaimed.

Still shaken by Egon's sudden oath, Adela's voice squeaked, and her hands trembled as she crouched next to Viscount Mathew, extending her arms toward him to hold his shoulders.

"I am fine, Your Excellency," Mathew said, though he sounded and looked anything but fine.

Adela sensed his energy draining and suspected he had opened one of the wounds the physicians had sewn up. Her eyes frantically swept over him, and she frowned when she saw blood staining his beige trousers.

With a piercing gaze, she struggled with the dilemma of scolding him for his unnecessary presence and the strong inclination to heal his injuries right then and there. When he attempted to stand up, her gloved hands on his shoulders gently but firmly pushed him back down.

"Why are you up on your feet this early!"

"I should say the same thing about you, Your Excellency."

How utterly absurd!

"Viscount, as you can see, my energy has been restored. I would have never gotten out of bed if it were otherwise."

Regret came and went on the Viscount's tired features.

"I was informed that you came here with His Highness. Please understand that I cannot possibly leave your side when my feet can take me where you are, Your Excellency."

She looked at his thigh meaningfully and then back into his eyes. "Apparently, they are unable to carry you where I am at the moment."

The man's face fell. "…My apologies, the wound must have opened when I rode here."

"You rode here!" Adela exclaimed. "Couldn't you have taken one of our carriages or yours!"

Seeing how the Viscount's shoulders slumped, she quickly changed her approach. The man had a history of being unreasonable at times, and the only reason he was the leader of her Order was because he was the highest-ranking noble around, a man whose loyalty to her had been tested and proven at every turn for years.

"Your Excellency-"

"No, Viscount, before we carry on with this conversation… if you will excuse me."

Taking off her white gloves, she closed her eyes to assess both her energy and the location where the Viscount's body needed her the most.

"I implore you not to," Mathew pleaded.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "This is nothing."

"Perhaps your tea will help? I can take a carriage back. Please, do not waste your stamina healing me."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Last I checked, tea did not help with bleeding wounds and roughed-up bones? Not to mention the third-degree burns beneath the bandage on your arm."

He was about to object once more, but she was faster, placing her hand on his well-shaved cheek.

His entire face contorted in response to her touch, his neck, forehead, and cheeks flushing heavily while he kept his eyes closed.

Right. Her father mentioned something about that the day before. The King's words, partnered with the Viscount's emotional reaction, made her nervous.

Sensing her unease, the Viscount's eyes snapped open, and he quickly removed her hand from his cheek. "If I may connect with you differently, Your Excellency…" He said huskily but did not wait for an answer.

With her hand firmly grasped in his, the Viscount pressed his lips to her knuckles.

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