Blooming

Sterling was recovering in the guest chamber inside the castle, one of the fortunate ones who survived the cold grip of death. The night before, many had succumbed to their injuries. Even among those who seemed to be recovering, a few were suddenly overcome by fever and died.

He was lucky that the Saint Candidate had treated him; otherwise, the pain and swelling in his crushed leg would have been unbearable. The afflicted limb was now wrapped tightly, supported by wooden planks to keep it immobile.

Since this morning, Sterling remained stable throughout the day. His fever had subsided, and he was restless, eager to do something. The physician, however, insisted that he rest.

Thus, he spent his day confined to bed, his only distractions being visits from comrades or castle staff. But as the sun dipped low on the horizon, people returned to their chores, leaving him alone.

The door to his chamber was intentionally left ajar to let in the fresh air and allow Sterling to call for help if needed. He was pleasantly surprised when a golden blonde girl entered. At first glance, she resembled Cecile, but her behavior quickly revealed that she was someone else.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The girl looked straight at him, her eyes narrowing as she examined his face. "Ah, you must be Sterling the squire." Her voice filled with recognition. "I'm Claire."

"Claire? Then you must be... I apologize. I'm so sorry for your loss."

Claire waved it off. "It's not your fault or anything. War is war. Father taught me to be ready."

Her words rejuvenated Sterling. He never thought that Sir Callahan's daughter was this courageous. "I applaud your bravery."

"Your praise is misplaced." The fifteen-year-old girl approached Sterling and pointed at the darkened area around her eyes, explaining, "I already cried a lot before coming here."

"It's still amazing." He was genuinely impressed by her composure.

Claire giggled, showing one missing tooth.

"What happened with your tooth?"

"Oh, I tried to ride the old warhorse. She didn't like me and threw me off. Bad lady!" she said happily with a grin.

Sterling nodded. Claire looked almost exactly like Cecile, just a tad shorter since she was younger; but that was where the similarities ended. While the older sister was calm and in control, the younger sister was bubbly and full of smiles.

"I hope it'll grow better than the old one," she commented about her tooth. "Otherwise, it's going to ruin my already slim chance of good marriage."

Sterling continued to nod at her story. He grew to enjoy her company.

"You know, without a father or mother, and being the second daughter with no estate, nobody is going to ask for me. Not that I care, but it still feels awful."

The squire chuckled, and Claire laughed too.

"I'm sure your sister will take care of you," Sterling reassured her.

"That I do not doubt. Actually, my father always said that if I were quiet, people might like me as much as they did my sister when she served as Lady in Waiting for Lady Astrid."

"No, stay true to yourself," Sterling disagreed, much to Claire's surprise.

"But why? Don't men like quiet and obedient women?"

"Not at all. There are also many who like brave and outspoken women," he spoke his mind.

"I see," she nodded with sparkles in her eyes. "What kind of men like a bratty and noisy girl like me then?"

He pondered for a moment. "Smart men who can match your intellect."

"Intellect?" she giggled. "I possess so little of it, unlike my sister."

Sterling pondered again and found the words. "Claire, you have your father's charisma."

"Charisma?" she blinked, her face turned serious like her sister.

"You have a charm and confidence that allows you to connect easily with people."

Claire listened intently; their gazes met, and it was Sterling who blushed as he realized just how pretty she looked with her golden eyes and long platinum-blonde hair.

He would never admit it, but he had a thing for blondes. With larger-than-life figures such as Felicity and Hannei around, the young squire was convinced that they were the golden fruit of this world.

Even amongst the staff and guards, there was never a lack of secret admirers—men who would gladly throw their lives away to protect them.

Oddly enough, while Sterling saw Cecile every day, he never felt anything toward her. Maybe even some slight jealousy since the Lord seemed to trust her better than him.

Watching Sterling turn quiet, Claire quickly used her palm to feel the man's forehead, fearing he may develop a sudden fever.

"It doesn't feel hot, but why are you turning red?" she asked, worried. "Are your legs in pain? Should I call for help?"

"No, no, I'm okay," Sterling assured her, his own heart beating fast.

Claire still looked worried, so he tried another approach: "I just told you that you have your father's charm, and I meant it. I barely know you, but I feel like I'm about to fall for you."

Most girls would laugh this off, dismissing it as a cheap and desperate line from a youngster. Even Sterling expected her to mock him. Yet, Claire smiled warmly.

"Gratitude for your kind words."

"You're not going to mock me?" he asked carefully.

"Why would I? You sound so sincere," Claire put her hand on Sterling's.

He smiled and hinted softly, "My feelings are genuine."

The girl looked happy, but this time there was some bitterness on her face. "You're the Lord's confidant... With the Lord, a rising star, you too will rise high. I doubt you'll have a lack of honored ladies seeking marriage."

He furrowed his brows and protested, "That's not true."

She hid her hands behind her back and breathed deeply. "I only have my father's hair and maybe a horse as a dowry. You'll have a bad life if you're going to ask for my hand."

Sterling saw that behind Claire's bubbly behavior lay a maturity beyond her years. She was a girl with a strong heart, able to face her father's tragic demise, and had a level-headed view of life. Unlike those who sought honeyed words and the promise of an easy life, she didn't seem afraid of hardship.

"Claire, keep talking. The more you talk, the more I like you."

She was stunned. "Do you mean it?"

"I do. Tell me about the old warhorse, or about your father. I'm keen to learn about them."

This time, Claire blushed, never before had someone wanted her to continue talking. Even her father usually just shrugged or shook his head after listening to her so much. "You don't have to. This is just because you feel sorry for my loss, right?"

"No, I like listening to people." Sterling looked to the door, saw nobody, and whispered, "Lord Lansius rarely talks, and neither does your sister. It's easy to get bored."

Stolen novel; please report.

"Ah, so the Lord of Korelia is also the quiet type." Claire covered her grinning mouth.

"They are," Sterling confirmed happily, and the two chuckled.

Afterward, there was an awkward silence until Claire broke the impasse. "I'll only be here for a number of days, but we should be friends."

Instead of answering, Sterling said gently, "Think about my offer. If you wish to know me better then you can ask your sister."

Claire let out a sigh. "Life is so unfair... An hour ago, I was worried about so many things, including my future marriage. Then, I checked a random room on a whim and was suddenly proposed marriage."

For daughters of low nobility like Claire, marriage was largely decided by their parents. She had heard many times that her mother had only talked to her father on the day they married. "But isn't this too fast? Or are you just playing with me?"

"Playing with you..? Claire, your sister is the Lord's cup-bearer. The same Lord that all of Lowlandia feared. He'll kill me if I try something stupid."

"Mmm, but even thinking to take my hand is indeed stupid. How will you argue against this if they asked you?"

Stifling a laugh, Sterling said, "I'll just tell him that I'm merely following his lead."

"His lead? Oh, you mean, how Lord Lansius will marry Captain Audrey?" Claire guessed.

Sterling looked smug. "I'm just emulating My Lord's greatness."

Claire giggled, her eyes shifting to Sterling and his wounded leg. "It's not fun if only I talk. You should tell me about yourself. I want to know more about you," she stammered.

"Sure, sure, there's a chair over there, please sit and let me tell you about my life or my battles," said the squire energetically forgetting about his pained leg.

...

Meanwhile, on the castle's upper floor.

"I can't find her," whispered Sigmund, who was temporarily overseeing the castle's security.

Nearby, the Saint Candidate was sleeping soundly, having healed many wounded throughout the night. Her clothes were stained with blood, and she likely lacked the stamina to clean herself, thus collapsed on a daybed. Now, Cecile was fanning her with giant duck feathers.

The cup-bearer wore a grey mourning robe and looked concerned, sad, and equally tired. Now, her sister was lost somewhere in the castle, adding more pressure to her mind.

"I'm so sorry. I should've guided her myself," Felis said, her brow furrowing in confusion as she wrapped the blood-stained apron. She had just finished administering care in the Great Hall's infirmary.

"Please don't be, My Lady. I'm sure you're also busy," said Cecile gently.

"I'll keep looking for her," Sigmund reassured the ladies and left the Great Chamber.

Felis approached Cecile and patted her shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm sure she'll be fine, maybe just chatting with some staff."

***

Audrey, Eastern Mansion

Night fell, and Audrey returned to the mansion with half of her cavalry to bolster defenses. With the White Lake contingent camped north of the city, and Lord Jorge's Black Knights east of the forest, there was no lack of threats to Korelia.

Even within the city, in the billets, they had hundreds of captured knights and squires. With the passing of Sir Callahan, and Hugo preparing a campaign against Korimor, only Sir Justin and Calub were left to handle the situation.

As Lansius had commanded, they put enormous effort into avoiding problems. Handling captured men was a risky and delicate matter, especially when they were trained fighters.

Worse, Korelia was going to take in over a thousand captured men in the following days. The enormous amount kept Lansius' staff on edge. Thus, out of concern, Audrey took her light cavalry to the eastern mansion as a precaution. Sir Harold welcomed the additional men, as he too felt tense because of the situation.

When she arrived on the second floor, Margo greeted her with a bow.

"How's the Lord?" Audrey asked, slightly fatigued from all her dealings.

"My Lord had an early supper and fell asleep when the weather turned cold," Margo replied.

Audrey nodded and looked around the private hall, whose small chandelier had been lit. "May I bother you to ask the kitchen to get me some gruel?"

"Certainly, My Lady." Margo quickly left the hall, leaving Audrey alone.

She thought about the lack of security for Lansius and felt amused. With Sterling injured and Roger drawn to handle the matter of the army, the Lord had no squire for himself.

Audrey slowly walked toward the master chamber and took a peek; she saw the lantern was lit safely and Lansius was soundly asleep. The window wasn't opened too wide, and everything seemed calm.

Satisfied, Audrey closed the door back and stood in front of it. She felt the sword's hilt on her waist, took a deep breath, and silently guarded the chamber.

She was still a squire at heart and no amount of spoiling from Lansius or her new status as the Lord's consort could change her. In Audrey's mind, Lansius was her charge, and she would gladly sacrifice herself for him.

***

Lansius

The Lord of Korelia had been sleeping since sundown and awakened a few hours after midnight. He was covered in sweat and threw his thin linen blanket aside. His throat was parched and he slowly got out of bed and walked toward the table.

He poured water from a silver jar into his cup and drank it down.

"Ahh," he sighed, feeling the cool water hit the spot. He took a deep breath and gazed around his room, enjoying the satisfying cool breeze that came from the window. Soon, he forgot the strange dreams that had been plaguing him.

He drank another cup and felt refreshed. Feeling the sweat on his face, he approached the stone basin on the corner and washed his face using the clean water from a copper basin.

Lansius felt so alive and sharp and knew he likely wouldn't get sleepy until he saw the sunrise.

"You're awake?" a familiar voice called from the door's direction.

He saw her just outside the door. "Drey, why are you awake at this time?"

"May I come in?"

"Of course," said Lansius as he dried his face using a clean linen cloth.

"Are you hungry, do you need anything?" Audrey asked once she closed the door behind her.

"Eh?" he muttered and then remember the unpleasant giant egg yolk. "Please, don't let them bring me those duck egg broth again. I've had them for lunch, after lunch, and supper."

Audrey giggled hearing Lansius' complaint. "But it's good for you. You're getting livelier."

Her comment made him chuckle. "It's more because of a good sleep."

She responded only with a smile. Even under the dim light, her tanned skin looked gorgeous.

He remembered what time it was and furrowed his brows. "Drey, why are you not sleeping?"

"Oh, we have nobody to stand guard, so I volunteered for one."

"You what?" Lansius asked, fully surprised.

"I'm still a squire you know, I'm capable," she jumped into conclusion.

"No, I'm not questioning that. But you're..." Lansius hesitated, still finding it odd to call her wife. "I mean, I can't have my future wife to stand guard for me."

"Well, I can't have Margo to do it. He can't fight that well and he needed sleep so he can perform his duties tomorrow."

Lansius hung the linen cloth to dry and approached the brunette in a black gothic dress. "Have you eaten?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

She smiled at his gentle approach but said softly, "Watch your left wrist."

"It's not as hurt as yesterday, just itchy."

They finally embraced like a couple, feeling each other's warmth. It was long overdue.

"You smell nice," she commented.

"Must be the fresh hazel twig and clove toothpaste," he answered, caressing her hair.

Audrey tiptoed, and they shared several kisses until she giggled. "Lans, that's enough."

"A bit more?" asked Lansius passionately.

They ended up on the bed cuddling and enjoying each other's company. The only thing that barred them from going all in was the mourning period. They were fully aware that at sunrise they would need to attend the mass funeral.

Nobody spoke about it, but the thought always lingered in their heads. Thus, the couple simply lay together on the bed, finding comfort in idle chatter. She told him about her days, about Daniella, and how she had brought her cavalry to the mansion for added protection.

"Get some shut-eye, I can guard you," said Lansius.

She giggled at the thought. "No, I'll wait for Margo. He'll wake up in an hour, then I can get some shut-eye."

"Then I'll have you for another hour then."

"Hey, your wrist, be careful," she warned him as he maneuvered on top of her and kissed her passionately.

And then the door creaked open, followed by the sounds of female servants tumbling, groaning, giggling, and then running away from the scene.

"Oh, yeah, I didn't lock the door," said Audrey with a grin.

Lansius chuckled, got up from the bed, and went outside. He saw several maids still hurrying to escape. "Hey, be careful. Don't run, or you'll fall and bruise your knees," he warned.

"Excuse us, My Lord, excuse us," the last one stammered, running away with a reddened face. Meanwhile, Margo stood bewildered, a blanket still draped over his shoulder.

"I swear Lady Audrey convinced me she'd take guard duty," the pageboy reported.

"No, that's alright. She's with me," replied Lansius with a smile.

Margo looked around. "Where?"

"On the bed..." Lansius paused and regretted his choice of word. Margo's face now turned red.

"No, don't let your imagination go wild. She's sleepy, so I lent her the bed," explained Lansius.

"Ah," Margo muttered innocently.

"What seems to be the problem?" Audrey emerged from the chamber, exuding a threatening aura.

Margo stiffened his back and shook his head. "No, My Lady. Just some servants on fire watch getting-"

Lansius chuckled, dismissing the commotion with a wave of his hand. He knew the maids were easily frightened in new places and often patrolled in groups. "Let's not wake up the entire mansion," he said and then turned to Audrey. "You mentioned your cavalrymen are here?"

"Yes, stationed on the mansion's grounds," she replied.

"Good. Margo, get the guards on duty to wake Dietrich. I wish to see him."

"Why so early?" asked Audrey while Margo put his blanket away and walked to the stairs.

"Well, I'm awake, so better to work than to waste time. And with him around, he can guard me, so you can get some sleep."

"Ah," she nodded. "... So, what are you working on?"

"Just some plans, I needed someone to ask."

"You can ask me," she pouted.

Lansius shrugged. "I can't think clearly with you around."

"Why is that?" She became curious.

"I see two big reasons."

She didn't get it at first until she followed Lansius' gaze to her bosom. She felt annoyed and crossed her arms, quipping, "It seems you're healthy enough to continue training."

"Nope, my wrist is broken and I still need to do well on our honeymoon," he quipped back.

"My Lord, you're already so lusty, you don't need a month of sweet mead," Audrey replied, smugly hinting at the customary aphrodisiac drink.

"Ohoho, spicy," he laughed at their silly banter. "Just the way I like it."

Audrey sighed but refocused her eyes, and straightened her posture. "My Lord, as your Captain and future consort, I wished to learn of your plan." Her tone was polite but firm.

Lansius chuckled. "Since you asked so nicely... Tomorrow, after we visit the fields of glory, I'll attempt to bridge the divide between East and West."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "To bridge? Are you aiming to unify the province?"

Lansius nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle heavily on his shoulders. "With Lord Jorge and the White Lake's commander in Korelia, we might manage to set Lowlandia on the right path. Pray that it happens, or else I fear that all this victory might be nothing but a bubble of happiness in the sea of tragedy."

***

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