When The Silent Peony Blooms - Chapter 65

“What is this all about?”

Arkan thought. He couldn’t comprehend a single word of what Erdene was saying.

What was this talk about reorganizing the knights and what was this about a duke?

‘There are still more headache-inducing things left.’

Rubbing his forehead for a moment, Arkan looked at Erdene and asked.

“A duke? What are you saying? Which duke are you talking about?”

“Pellerhar, His Majesty’s cousin. The Duke of Sonetum.”

Arkan became even more clueless.

“Pellerhar? No, why is Pellerhar being mentioned here?”

Erdene explained.

“After watching the sparring of the adjutants this morning, I thought that Vetor’s knights were organized too inefficiently. Even the captains leading the soldiers were not utilizing their talents or strengths at all. So I thought the knights needed to be reorganized.”

“I understand that. But what I’m curious about is why Pellerhar is being brought up.”

“He was at the training ground. I think he came to watch the sparring? When I talked about matters related to the knights, he said he would speak to His Majesty about it, so I assumed you already knew.”

Arkan dropped his shoulders in disbelief. Erdene’s explanation was clear point by point, but the most important question remained unanswered.

“Alright, I get the part about the knights. But why did you… not want to tell me directly? Why did you try to relay the message through Pellerhar?”

At that, Erdene nonchalantly said.

“I didn’t think Your Majesty would listen properly if I said it. The duke also said it would be better for him to bring it up first.”

For a moment, Arkan shuddered invisibly at the familiar feeling that assailed him.

It was exactly that unpleasantly unfathomable and heart-piercing sensation he had felt in the morning.

This time, however, it was shockingly intense.

And a certain memory came to his mind… A very old memory he never imagined would still remain.

When was that? Arkan thought. It seemed to be from the time not long after his elder brother had passed away.

It was when he had approached his mother, who was being depressed every day unlike before and would sob in the middle of doing anything, to comfort her.

She had pushed Arkan away and screamed. From behind, a court lady – it must have been the Countess Fiddlers – had caught him.

Thanks to someone holding him, he was spared from falling to the ground in an unsightly manner, but Arkan’s heart was not.

It felt as if something was collapsing inside his chest and head, and it seemed like he could actually hear the sound.

The feeling he had at that time was exactly the same as now.

Disappointment… Yes, that was it. He was immensely disappointed and hurt to the point his energy drained from his entire body.

Arkan noisily closed the novel he had been reading.

Then he placed it on the table as if throwing it and abruptly stood up.

Erdene, startled by his suddenly sharpened reaction, raised her gaze with a dumbfounded expression.

“What is it?”

“I can’t read anything, be it a book or whatever, in this mood. It’s only enjoyable when read with a peaceful mind, but right now, I don’t think I could take in even a single letter.”

“Why are you suddenly acting like this?”

“Well, I’ll think about it, so why don’t you think about it too?”

Arkan, twisting the corner of his lips, glanced at the thick tactical book still placed on Erdene’s lap.

Despite being pounded so much, the fact that it remained completely unscathed without a single damaged spot suddenly became unbearably irksome.

“If you don’t want to think, just read a lot of your favorite tactical books. I’ll leave the room for you, so it works out well. Why don’t you call your favorite adjutant and cozily read it together? What will you do missing them after I leave?”

Arkan, sarcastically remarking as much as he could, fluttered his cloak and left the study.

Erdene, as if Arkan had slapped her cheek, was dumbfounded for a moment, then belatedly turned her head towards the direction he had left.

The corridor was in plain sight as he hadn’t even closed the door.

“I should have just bitten his finger off.”

Erdene muttered.

Pellerhar had heard footsteps thudding and approaching from outside long before Arkan barged in through the door.

“I don’t know who is being so impudent.”

His close attendant, who could be called Aiman, glared at the door with a displeased expression.

Aiman, who had just recently shed his apprentice attendant status, was a nineteen-year-old youth who had attended to Pellerhar since a very young age.

As a result, Pellerhar also treated him intimately, as if dealing with a much younger brother.

Pellerhar, while trimming his nails, replied in a voice mixed with laughter.

“Indeed. Everyone should know this is my residence, so I wonder who is being so impudent.”

“I will go out and teach them a lesson.”

Aiman clenched his fist and strode towards the door. His long legs that were stretched out moved refreshingly.

“Eek!”

The moment the door opened, Aiman let out a scream.

And Pellerhar, who had been making an intrigued expression behind him, tilted his head and burst into laughter.

“Your, Your Majesty! I am seeing Your Majesty.”

Aiman, his face turning pale, quickly bowed his waist and looked at Pellerhar’s reaction.

Pellerhar, while continuously snickering, noticed that Arkan’s mood was seriously twisted.

‘Hmm, it seems they had another marital quarrel.’

Pellerhar said.

“Aiman, go and bring tea and a chessboard. It appears His Majesty has come to have a rematch for last year’s final showdown.”

“Pardon? Ah, yes.”

Aiman hurriedly ran out. Arkan was fixedly staring at Pellerhar as if wondering what nonsense he was spouting.

Even when the sound of the door closing was heard from behind, he stood there rooted in that spot like someone who had lost his way.

In the meantime, Pellerhar put down the tool he was using to trim his nails and took out a long pipe.

The tobacco case, which had a shiny white background with a pattern resembling rippling waves engraved in blue, was tiny enough to be just one finger-joint in size and was a luxurious item decorated with amber and ivory mouthpieces.

Pellerhar scooped a small amount of tobacco leaves into it, lit it, and took a puff.

Watching the bluish smoke rise with joyful eyes, he spoke.

“How is it? I bought it when I stopped by the Duchy of Stradhogue. These kinds of items seem to be trending there again these days. They are things that would have been used about two hundred years ago, but many of them are quite stylishly well-made.”

Arkan, who had been intently glaring at Pellerhar leisurely smoking, approached him.

Then, at a quick speed, he snatched the pipe and turned the case upside down, spilling out everything inside it into a silver ashtray.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Arkan did not answer that question and tightly gripped the pipe.

For a moment, he thought about snapping it in half… but with a seething sigh, he put it back down.

“Why are you doing this again?”

“Why am I doing this?”

Arkan raised his voice with a burst. It just so happened that at that very moment, Aiman entered with another attendant, bringing tea and a chessboard.

They were so startled that they forgot about propriety and alternately looked at Pellerhar and Arkan.

They were curious about who had shouted.

“Aiman.”

Pellerhar snapped his fingers and tapped on the table.

The attendants then moved in a flurry as if their bottoms were on fire, poured the tea, prepared the chessboard, and disappeared outside.

Pellerhar said.

“I don’t know why you’re so angry, but sit down for now.”

Taking a deep breath, Arkan roughly brushed his bangs and sat across from him.

Pellerhar relit the pipe, took a long drag, exhaled, and set up the chess pieces one by one.

‘This carefree bastard.’

Arkan, who had been glaring at Pellerhar with a resentful expression, crossed his arms.

“When were you going to talk about the knights?”

Pellerhar’s hand, holding a bishop, momentarily paused in midair.

He had been absentmindedly emitting thin smoke through his lips, forgetting to even smoke, and he asked while placing down the piece.

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you going to pretend you don’t know? I’m talking about reorganizing the knights or whatever.”

Only then did Pellerhar finally realize the reason Arkan was so angry and had barged in here stomping.

He had thought Arkan had fought with Erdene again, but that wasn’t it.

He was angry at Pellerhar. Supporting the pipe with one hand, he slowly leaned away from the table.

“Ah, that? I was going to tell you this evening when I saw you.”

At the nonchalant reply, Arkan’s insides flipped over once more – it seemed like it should have returned to its original place by now with how much it had flipped, but it didn’t – but he exercised patience.

He could endure for quite a long time even when considerably angry.

As long as the other person wasn’t Erdene.

“Why did the queen consult with you about that?”

“No, to be precise… She didn’t consult with me.”

“You said it would be better for you to tell me. Both you and the queen agreed on that. Am I wrong?”

“That’s true, but… Is that a problem?”

“Are you serious?”

Pellerhar made a hissing sound through his teeth, spat out the mouthpiece, and turned his head.

The smoke flowing out between his lips was like a ghost.

“What’s the problem? Isn’t it true that it would have been better for me to say it? If Her Majesty had suddenly told you she would reorganize the knights, would you have agreed?”