Lady Devil - Chapter 50

#50

The banquet was boisterous. Gold and silver cups raised high danced in the air to the rhythm of string instruments and trumpets. Blood-red wine like the blood of the defeated overflowed, soaking the tables.

The jester in a pointed hat scurried about ringing his bells, while mercenaries and prostitutes at the lower seats laughed uproariously with flushed faces.

At the head table were only father and the elders. Elder brother was nowhere to be seen.

Winfrid, arm in arm with dozens of Johannes’ followers, drank excessively, passing drinks back and forth, downing alcohol his body couldn’t handle. Normally they would have been at each other’s throats, but now the young men stomped their feet and shouted together.

The young lord would skewer five or ten on his spear each time he charged out! That’s right! His valor is truly comparable to a war god! Absolutely! What does it matter if some nobles’ heads are cracked! Right! Though it’s a shame we can’t collect the ransom for lives not taken!

Everyone laughed at this part. The price was victory! Yeah! Ah! It’s crumbling, crumbling! What? Who?

Winfrid giggled. Having drunk too much, his limbs were limp, and though supported by equally drunk knights around him, Winfrid couldn’t stop laughing. Guffawing, laughing and laughing until his stomach felt like it would split. It was as if his lungs were full of air.

Just before Johannes returned to the banquet hall, Winfrid was so drunk he couldn’t even imagine his elder brother on the battlefield. In his dizziness, Winfrid thought: Ah, ah. That’s because I’m a man who knows nothing of war.

Yes, he didn’t know. How could a monk who only read scriptures in a quiet monastery imagine the weight of a horse falling with foam at its mouth, the warmth of sticky blood, or the cumbersome armor caked with dirt? His weak self had never even been near a battlefield.

And well, he never would be. So hahaha! All he could do was laugh out loud. He felt dizzy.

After Johannes left, turning the banquet hall to ice. Unable to suppress his heightened mood, Winfrid staggered this way and that, somehow managing to return to his room where he impulsively scrawled a letter.

After fiddling with the quill tip for a while in front of the densely filled page, he crumpled up the paper. Even to his drunken eyes, the handwriting was too messy, and he realized his elder sister’s temperament wouldn’t allow for such a long-winded letter.

Moreover, he couldn’t rule out the risk of the scribe informing her ‘husband’. No matter how foolish his elder sister was, she wouldn’t be unaware of this much. So after much deliberation, he neatly copied a few lines of lyrics in beautiful handwriting.

He couldn’t help but snicker. His white hand flew across the yellow paper. It was a vicious intention to see this through to the end. So, if his memory served him right, this was…

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