The Amber Knight's Vow to the Saint's Left Hand - Chapter 2.5
Marius flushed crimson from his cheeks to his ears, gritting his molars audibly.
“There must be power in those eyes! You did something, didn’t you?”
“Unfortunately, these eyes are merely for show. I haven’t inherited a single trace of Betzirath’s sorcery. Ah, but—”
From the spectator’s stands, Lynette rose to her feet, clapping to honor the victor. As always, her expression remained unreadable, but the moment her gaze met Quill’s, she lifted her left hand. Adjusting her arm to make the oath bracelet visible to the audience, she adorned her face with a practiced social smile.
A fresh wave of cheers erupted.
She knew exactly how to present herself.
“Today, my victory over Lord Klassen must be thanks to the blessings of the Saint.”
One who commanded as much public support as the King himself had ordered him to claim victory. To fail now would be a disgrace to the name of a knight.
Leaving the trembling, humiliated Marius behind, Quill gave a brief bow and exited the arena.
By the time he reached the exit, Lynette was already there, slightly breathless.
“How was it?”
“Princess Julianna remarked that it was a beautiful display of swordsmanship. If I were capable of feeling such things, I’m sure I would have cheered as well.”
“You… cheering?”
“Something like, ‘Oh my, Sir Quill, how wonderful…’ I imagine I would have put together something of that nature.”
The unexpected remark made him choke slightly. Not only was her face devoid of expression, but her voice carried no inflection whatsoever. That utterly monotone delivery made it seem as if she were deliberately feigning innocence.
Suppressing a laugh, Quill turned his face away.
Lynette, however, leaned forward, peering up at him from below. As she tilted her head slightly, a strand of her silvery-blonde hair fell onto her cheek.
They were still within the audience’s view. It would be best to act as if they were on amicable terms.
With that thought, Quill reached out to her.
He tucked the stray lock of hair behind her ear.
As his fingers withdrew, they lightly grazed the upper edge of her ear.
“Hya!”
A peculiar sound escaped.
From his fiancée.
“…Huh?”
For a moment, Quill was at a loss.
Lynette, too, seemed momentarily unable to comprehend what had just happened. She hastily clasped both hands over her mouth, as if to suppress any further sounds. That strange noise from earlier had undeniably come from her lips.
Quill scrutinized his fiancée and leaned in close to whisper.
“Did I do something inappropriate?”
“Fuh… nnngh…”
“Lady Celies?”
She twisted away at his murmuring, and soon, her carefully composed expression cracked.
It wasn’t an act.
It was an unrestrained, utterly natural smile—the most genuine one he had ever seen on her.
—What kind of logic is this?
Watching Lynette’s face, he decided to test a theory. He extended his index finger and lightly tickled the edge of her ear.
She immediately pressed her hands against her ears in alarm, while her other hand clutched at the sleeve of his knight’s uniform.
“P-Please stop… fufu!”
“Are you ticklish?”
“Isn’t that—oh no, ah! Hya!”
She caught his wrist with both hands.
Her cheeks were flushed a delicate shade of pink, her blue eyes slightly misted.
“I… I truly cannot handle being tickled… Please, Sir Quill.”
As soon as he let go, her expression quickly returned to its usual neutrality.
Quill observed her transformation with curiosity before coming to a realization.
So, she does have physical sensations.
The reactions her body elicited came faster than her mind could suppress them. It wasn’t joy, nor amusement—it was something even more primal. She had laughed simply because she was ticklish and had no way to endure the sensation.
A wave of curiosity swelled within him.
Now that she had completely let her guard down, he lightly trailed a finger along the nape of her neck.
“Fuh… nnngh!”
“Oh…”
This could be dangerous.
Hearing that unexpectedly sultry voice, a far too age-appropriate desire stirred within him. He found himself oddly impressed at his own reaction, as if detached from it.
“Ahem. Quill. I understand deepening your bond with your fiancée, but perhaps you should choose your setting more carefully?”
The voice of Gies snapped him back to reality.
Looking around, he realized the audience had been watching with mixed reactions—some looking embarrassed, others smirking knowingly.
“My apologies.”
Reality swiftly returned, and he straightened his posture.
“You don’t look the least bit apologetic.”
“I was merely checking on Lady Celies’s health.”
When he glanced at Lynette, she was now pulling at her own earlobes, seemingly trying to offset the ticklish sensation with mild pain.
Another chuckle slipped past Quill’s lips.
The fact that she did this all while maintaining her usual impassive face made it all the more endearing.
Gies cleared his throat once more before assuming a knight’s salute toward Lynette.
“I am Gies Kirsten, Commander of the Black Knights. I offer my heartfelt congratulations on your engagement to the Saintess.”
“I am honored. Thank you.”
“Your fiancé is strong, isn’t he?”
“Yes. However, I was unaware that knights were permitted to use magic in formal duels.”
“That is something I intend to protest most strongly.”
Lynette’s indirect complaint was met with a smile from Gies.
“If magic had been permitted, your fiancé wouldn’t have merely defeated the White Knight—he would have wiped out the entire arena. A pity you didn’t get to witness it.”
“I have heard tales of his impenetrable ice walls.”
“Well… that title isn’t solely because of his skill in magic.”
Watching the conversation before him turn into a social gathering, Quill began inching backward in an attempt to discreetly put some distance between himself and the scene.
Only to be shoved forward with a firm push against his back.