138.

“…These days, the royal family members are as fragile as secluded maidens, whining for a hundred days if their feelings are even slightly hurt…. Pitiful fellows who have forgotten the spirit of warriors.”

The duke added as if talking to himself, shaking his head. How annoying. Though he didn’t say it out loud, his gesture subtly revealed his irritated thoughts.

“Do not interfere any further.”

“Father.”

“Go back.”

Just as the duke’s blue eyes were about to close, as if shutting out the noisy secular world, Johannes approached as if to grab his father’s arm.

“Father.”

“……”

“Giovinetta is an exceptionally bright child. So if you just reason with her…”

“…Close it.”

“……”

“That mouth.”

It was like a bolt of lightning.

Johannes’ already fragile spine was suddenly filled with tension, becoming hot as if it would burst into flames at any moment. He barely swallowed a groan. The duke declared in a low voice.

“I won’t take back what I’ve said once.”

“……”

“More importantly… How old are you this year?”

After a moment of silence, the duke turned to Johannes and asked.

Johannes, who was about to part his lips to answer the question, unconsciously clenched his jaw tightly. It was because he met the duke’s gaze, slowly scanning him from head to toe. That gaze, as cold and hard as an ice wall. A look that carried not a hint of emotion.

No, that assessment was both right and wrong at the same time. If one could call the emotion of a knight looking at a fine warhorse an emotion.

Johannes stared steadily at the duke’s eyes, feeling as if he were on trial. The duke, shifting his gaze to his eldest son’s limbs, didn’t seem particularly interested in waiting for an answer.

“You must know that you are to stand by my side as the chief knight of Duke Gustavus in the future.”

“……”

“I am neither an easy knight nor an easy father, so rather than seeking my approval, it would be better for you to build up your strength early on. I eagerly await the day to appoint you. Be thorough in everything so as not to disappoint this expectation.”

With those words, the duke turned his head away completely. Johannes, having lost his resolve in the face of his father’s attitude, lowered his head for a moment, then bit his lip lightly. But soon he composed himself and left before further displeasing the duke. The pain in his back still hadn’t subsided.

Just before closing the door to the library.

Johannes stared at the duke’s broad shoulders and back through the crack in the door. The duke, wearing comfortable indoor clothes without a crown, had his back to the entrance. He leaned his relaxed upper body against the high back of the chair. The low voice of the chief priest, standing respectfully next to the armrest, mixed with the sound of turning pages, settling like dust.

Father is like a man confessing, Johannes suddenly thought. The priest was not reciting scriptures, but rather listing his father’s sins before God.

Perhaps this was an assessment unsuited to the scene Johannes had witnessed. The duke and the priest. Even in the library where only the two of them remained, his father’s firm nape and limbs were wrapped in a certain majesty, a pressure that seemed more likely to rupture than be cut if struck by a sword right then. However, there was an inner wall looking down on the duke with an unapproachable, sacred radiance. To be precise, it was the bookshelves lining the inner walls of the library in a circle.

The impression Johannes received stemmed from those very bookshelves. The library, occupying the rear of the fortress, boasted a tower higher than any other inland fortress as a result of repeated expansions due to frequent wars in the past, even in Gustavus, which was known for its high towers.

And the bookshelves that filled the library’s inner walls from floor to ceiling without a gap, as if to break one’s neck, were truly overwhelming, eliciting involuntary sighs of admiration. It was said that once, a prince who had casually traveled to the far western lands looked around the bookshelves of the Gustavus library and then left staggering, refusing even to eat, with a pale, lifeless face. One could understand that feeling of being utterly overwhelmed.

It was something of a height that one hesitated to call a “bookshelf” with human lips. It was a sacred entity that, like a repository of wisdom, sternly rebuked ignorance and limitations with solemn silence, while precisely placing the man said to be the greatest in the vicinity directly in the center of its field of vision. It was like a judge transcending the human world.

Thus, even a man called the Iron Duke would become a mere sinful commoner the moment he entered the library and stood beneath the bookshelves.

However, Father seems to enjoy the judgment, Johannes added one more impression as he closed the door, unable to hide his troubled state of mind.

Whenever Johannes witnessed the duke savoring the priest’s recitation in the library, he was overcome by a strange feeling. To be precise, it was his father who was peculiar. He was a man who used to mock the incompetence of nobles who had learned the vernacular.

A man who, despite his contempt for letters, occasionally left the battle lines even in the midst of combat to visit this sanctuary of the judge. A man who buried his entire body in the most devout yet relaxed posture, seeming satisfied under that watchful gaze. The duke with his strange inclination.

Johannes’ father was always that contradictorily arrogant back. So perhaps ultimate power wasn’t revealed in iron or gold or blood vessels. It was none other than that composure. That…

Beast-like composure.

The ruler of the library was, after all, the duke, the confessor.

Outside the library, it was already a chillingly red twilight. The scribe’s blood stains, redder than even that twilight, dotted the long path up to the main tower. Johannes covered his eyes with one hand as if to shield them.

***

Johannes, who had been unable to move in front of the library, immediately headed towards the women’s quarters. He barely managed to move his steps, which seemed about to collapse at any moment. There was no time left to think about the public expense or his own safety. This is not right, after all. She will never be able to bear it. So I must go, he thought.

No.

Those were all just excuses.

“…I can hear your heartbeat, Johann.”

“…It feels good.”

More than anything else, Johannes himself needed his sister. He tried to deny this need, recalling his mother’s grip, but his mind kept conjuring up images of his sister trapped in the women’s quarters, desperately searching for him. Even the thin voice that would call out his name in frustration, with eyes on the verge of tears. Even the shoulders that would tremble and the hair that would flutter at that moment.

And this longing must be the same for you as well.

At that moment, Johannes suddenly bent over as if about to fall while walking. He grabbed his neck and dry heaved. Ah, it felt like he was going to die. Now it really felt like his back was about to break. But now was not the time. No. He swallowed the sensation that felt like he couldn’t bear it without throwing up something, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He managed to walk somehow. And he convinced himself.

It’s not because of longing. It’s not because I need her. It’s just that she won’t be able to endure that punishment. Because I’m worried. Truly, I…. Suddenly, Johannes stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide open. No, to speak honestly, who wouldn’t be concerned about the well-being of a sister who shares the same blood, he thought.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, the pain subsided as if by magic. Stumbling, stumbling. He started walking again. Gradually his steps became lighter. Eventually, it was like a flying sprint. Yes, everyone would probably have the same level of concern, he thought. If Winfrid were in the same situation, I would have made the same choice.

Clinging desperately to such excuses like a lifeline, he longed for his sister. He ran towards the women’s quarters until he was out of breath.

He desperately needed the red warmth that clung to him, claiming to want him, like life-giving water. He didn’t know why. He just knew that right now, he wouldn’t dare to make his sister yearn for him.

He would step forward first, grab her slender wrist, and immediately pull her into his arms. He wanted to lie down, embracing his sister who would be on the verge of tears, asking, “Why are you so late?” While stroking her hair that flowed like a waterfall, he wanted to ask if it had been difficult. He wanted to fall into such a deep sleep. Ah, you would naturally entrust your body to me….

In truth, he needed someone who would listen to his heartbeat against his chest, someone who would return that pulse intact. He desperately needed his sister who would establish him as himself, not as someone with hands that seemed inhuman or in a posture worse than a dog with a leash. Giovinetta. Giovinetta….

“It feels good….”

Now, whatever happens next, I don’t care, even if mother strangles me again, he thought as he frantically climbed the main tower. An uncertain tension rose, flushing his face. A reunion after fourteen days. That excitement, expectation, and anxiety that he had felt whenever his sister was sick were all bundled together, filling his mind.

Johannes, unable to even glance at the vassals who bowed politely upon seeing him, skipped several steps at a time and reached the third floor. Whether due to excessive anticipation or the excitement of the impending reunion, his fingertips and toes kept trembling slightly. Johannes turned the corridor corner with the same feeling as when he used to look for his sister’s sickroom. There should be his sister’s small reception room….

However, the corridor connecting the stairs and the women’s quarters was dead silent. Even the air filling the space was chilly.

What’s going on?

Johannes couldn’t hide his somewhat bewildered expression as he caught his breath. The two guards standing in front of the women’s quarters saluted smartly upon seeing their young master. Johannes, without even thinking to return the salute, pushed his way between the two guards. The guards, who were unexpectedly pushed aside, looked puzzled but didn’t particularly try to stop him.

“Mother.”

“……”

“Mother.”

The fist knocking on the door was trembling slightly. Johannes, restraining himself as much as possible, knocked on the door again with the lightest touch he could manage. However, the door to the women’s quarters, locked with a curtain, didn’t budge at all. There was no response from the inner room either. As if there wasn’t a single person inside. Surely, they couldn’t be absent? Now Johannes felt like he was about to lose his breath.

“Mother.”

“……”

“I’ll take Giovinetta’s place, Mother.”

“……”

“So please… come out and talk with me for a moment….”

“…Johann?”

“Giovinetta?”

Silence. Johannes held his breath in the position he was in. Instinctively, he focused all his senses on his ears, but there was no further response after the first call. A deathly silence continued for a while. Just as Johannes was about to call out to his sister one more time.

The sound of small footsteps began to be heard from deep beyond the door.

It was a quiet sound, as if walking on tiptoes, with almost no sense of weight. One step. Another step. The sound gradually shortened its intervals, until finally it became a sprint that paid no attention to its surroundings. Then it stopped abruptly in front of the door.

“…Johann…. Can you hear me? Can you hear? Are you… still there…?”