Pilgrimage [Western Fantasy] - Chapter 18

Estelle released her grip, and the man collapsed onto the ground, coughing as he narrowly avoided stepping on the girl’s companion. His eyes were bloodshot, and the girl simply stared at Estelle.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” The man, overwhelmed by pain and fear, lost all his arrogance. Trembling on the ground, he apologized repeatedly. The bl00d that had clouded his eyes began to clear as he crawled forward, too afraid to lift his head, even going so far as to kiss her boots. Estelle kicked him again. “Who exactly are you apologizing to?”

The man scrambled toward the girl in front of him, crying bitterly with shame. Estelle pursed her lips, carefully watching the girl’s reaction.

“That sister,” the girl said without a glance at the man, instead pointing to the dagger at Estelle’s waist—the one she had picked up casually before leaving. “Can you give this to me?”

Estelle hesitated, smoothing her brow as she looked down at the girl kneeling before her. “You’re too young for this. Let me help you instead.”

The girl smiled softly, dimples appearing in her cheeks. “Sister, no children live here.” Estelle raised her hands to shield the two girls’ eyes, then stepped forward and pressed her foot against the man’s groin. His anguished scream was eerily calm, as if she were just stating a fact: “No place in this world exists where grown-ups clasp hands and children need to wield knives.”

She led the two girls to a corner and bought them a pile of bread. “Divide this among yourselves.” Then, handing a gold coin to the girl, she added, “Buy yourself something nice.”

“Sister.” The girl didn’t hide the coin but looked up at Estelle. “Can I see you again?”

The girl curled into a smile, clearly delighted by her beautiful protector. Squatting down, she rubbed her nose shyly. “Of course. Next time we meet, I’ll make sure you eat even better.”

Bl00d still stained the soles of Estelle’s boots as she cloaked herself and got into a carriage.

The following day, the news that Baron Pitt had been permanently removed spread swiftly throughout the imperial capital.

The noble families buzzed with commotion. Several groups of nobles flocked to the crown prince’s palace, many voicing harsh criticism of the arrogant, presumptuous orphan girl. The crown prince dispatched his closest aides to meet with the magistrate.

But the fervent nobles forgot one thing: the old lion in the palace was still wide awake.

“Luke, didn’t you mention this earlier?” The emperor chuckled, coughing slightly. “Her style resembles that Estelle girl, but the essence is quite different.”

Estelle was reckless and brash, but this mage acted with ambition and purpose.

“Could Abel have fathered twins?”

The attendant lowered his gaze, knowing the emperor didn’t expect a response—these musings were for his own reflection.

After laughing, the emperor waved a hand dismissively. “Ten years ago, the empire wouldn’t have allowed the nobles to appease her with a few trinkets.”

The attendant’s heart quickened. “At your command, my lord.”

Taking the jewels, Luke left the palace, glancing back once. The emperor clearly knew the crown prince’s position but chose to protect the mage regardless, instructing Luke to deliver the gifts immediately.

Luke dared not question further, climbing into his carriage. A distant roar reminded him of the pouring rain. The towering bell tower loomed hazy in the downpour, hydrangea vines bent with petals strewn along the roadside. He had no desire to admire the flowers. Since becoming the emperor’s closest aide, he hadn’t felt this kind of unease in a long time.

Inside a dimly lit study, illuminated by magical stone lamps, Estelle sat with the window open despite the heavy rain. Not a single drop fell inside. Holding a quill, she wrote a line on paper. The wind blew flower petals inside, which she twisted between her fingers and placed gently on the glowing stone. She looked up. “Such heavy rain, yet no uninvited guests have appeared.”

“Can’t even break through such a simple protective spell?”

The sheriff wiped sweat from his brow as he spoke, apologizing to the man beside him dressed in knightly armor bearing the Rose family crest. “Forgive me, Lord Primo, but if you don’t…”

“No rush,” Primo interrupted. Raised alongside the crown prince, the squire seemed more an ally than just a subordinate. His pale green eyes were calm, like a forest pond. “He’s only a level seven mage. No need to be harsh.”

“And it’s still raining.”

The rain intensified, blurring vision. Primo stood patiently, neither pressing nor retreating. The sheriff cursed under his breath, but then the heavy black iron door creaked open.

Estelle appeared in the doorway, dripping wet as rain cascaded off her like glass shards. Despite the storm’s noise, her voice was crystal clear: “Several people seek shelter from the rain?”

She wore no fancy dress or jeweled headdress, her face plain and natural. Primo, used to aristocratic girls with heavy makeup, blinked in surprise but quickly recovered and saluted politely, breaking into a formal inquiry to the Baron: “We won’t disturb Miss Adelaide?”

“Certainly, you will.”

Estelle’s blunt response froze Primo’s usual calm expression for a moment. When she took a step back, closing the door, Primo reached forward to hold it open, but she turned her head in quiet resistance.

He fell silent. “You assaulted a baron yesterday and need to come with us to the security team.”

“Assault?”

Estelle crossed her arms. Primo looked up, his face shielded by a blue-tinted translucent mask blocking the rain. He instinctively wiped his face and faced her. She smiled like a consummate diplomat.

Without meeting his eyes, she leaned against the door, stating plainly, “You mean the man who lost control over his lower half and tried to force himself on a girl in the street? If I knocked him out with excessive force, was it really assault?”

“According to imperial law, harming women is punishable by death. Excessive defense resulting in death requires only compensation of property.”

Though smiling, no one mistook it for good humor.

The sheriff approached stiffly. “We understand your position, but Baron Pitt’s injuries and location…”

“This matter has nothing to do with you!”

“Shouldn’t those who insult women pay such a price?”

“This…”

Her smile vanished. “Are you dissatisfied?”

Primo sighed. “We mean no offense. The empire’s laws are supreme and must be upheld.”

“But you also know that some intervention is necessary. Otherwise, these men swarm like bees around honey, refusing to leave.”

He gestured toward the sweating sheriff, half-joking, “Look at this poor man—if you don’t cooperate, he might lose his job.”

Estelle studied the men’s forced smiles. Compared to corrupt officials, this sheriff was a rare honest one.

Her tone softened. “When?”

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow afternoon someone will come to fetch you.”

She nodded, pulling a red button from her cloak and pressing it on the iron door. “Press this to let me know you’re here.”

Glancing at Primo, she said, “Today, I heard nothing.”

The young man’s smile deepened. “Thank you for your understanding and patience. You truly are a kind and noble lady.”

Estelle gave him a puzzled look. “Are your eyes okay?”

He bowed and said, “I offer my sword in thanks.” Then, looking into her eyes, he asked, “May I kiss your hand?”

The sheriff quickly introduced, “This is Lord Wimborne Primo, Imperial Knight.”

Estelle was silent but recognized the name. In her world, she’d heard of Primo, who had grown up with the crown prince—a man known for his talent and charm. Their encounters were mostly nods and smiles at banquets. Edwin once said Primo was a just man with strong resolve.

Now she saw Primo as a rare figure bridging two worlds. Thinking this, she extended her hand.

He took her wrist gently and kissed the back of her pale, delicate hand.

At that moment, the sound of a carriage arrived again. Looking up, Estelle saw the golden lion-emblazoned carriage pull through the crowd and stop.

Luke stepped down, walking confidently toward Estelle. He accepted the salutations of those nearby before bowing deeply and signaling his servant to bring a gift.

“His Majesty said you were frightened yesterday and asked me to select many items for you. I can offer no reward, so please accept them as a token of goodwill.”

Primo’s heart sank. The emperor’s clear protection of Estelle was a relief—he was still wise—but years of friendship with the crown prince weighed on him. The empire’s lion was watching his son, who eyed the throne with ambition. Primo couldn’t help but worry about the crown prince.

Yet…

Primo recalled the crown prince’s disregard for law and orders when driven by personal motives. For the first time, doubts crept in: Was such a man truly worthy of Primo’s loyalty to become the empire’s new sun?