The Amber Knight's Vow to the Saint's Left Hand - Chapter 2.6

“Well done, Quill! That was spectacular—wait, the Saintess is here?!”

Zasha’s booming voice rang painfully in Quill’s ears. He grimaced instinctively, but the commotion only grew louder.

“Whoa, whoa! It’s the Saintess! She’s so tiny! Captain, she’s tiny! Are you sure she’s okay? What if you accidentally pat her on the shoulder and she breaks?!”

“Saintess, what do you think? Captain Quill is a fairly decent man when he has a sword in hand, isn’t he? Have you fallen for him all over again? And just wait—once you see him use magic, he becomes a terrifyingly handsome man!”

“Silence. Step back. Settle down.”

Behind Quill, a row of Black Knights had assembled. The most raucous ones were members of his own Second Unit.

As for Zasha’s First Unit…

“Commander Gies, could you move aside a little?”

“Saintess, if you’re interested in a Black Knight, our Captain Zasha is quite the man as well.”

“And if the Captain is impressive, that means we are too. How about getting along with us, Saintess?”

They had already swarmed in from behind Lynette.

At this point, it had turned into a full-blown festival. Seeing the Black Knights behave this way, Quill almost understood why the White Knights tended to look down on them. To put it mildly, their manners were far from refined.

Any ordinary noble lady would have shrunk away in fear, overwhelmed by the presence of so many large men surrounding her. But Lynette was no ordinary lady—she was the Saintess. She remained utterly composed, her face blank as always, occasionally nodding or responding in a neutral tone.

Perhaps it was best to leave things be.

Pushing aside his rowdy subordinates, Quill began to slip into the crowd, blending into the chaos.

The duel between him and Marius had concluded the exhibition match. He had no desire to linger any longer under public scrutiny, nor to put his interactions with his fiancée on display for all to see.

Just as he was about to quietly slip away—

“But, Saintess, why Quill of all people?”

“Exactly! If you wanted stability, the White Knights would have been the obvious choice. We Black Knights—well, we get bathed in bl00d, but we don’t get showered in gold or silver, that’s for sure.”

“Come to think of it, where and how did you and the Captain even meet?”

Quill froze mid-step, his ears perking up.

That was exactly what he wanted to know most.

The rest of the knights seemed equally curious, as the raucous chatter abruptly died down. Everyone turned to Lynette, waiting for her response.

Feigning a hint of bashfulness, she answered,

“That is a secret between the two of us.”

A roar of excitement erupted.

Before Quill could react, he was swept up by the crowd and dragged back into the center of the commotion.

Zasha’s arm curled around his neck, and with a smug grin, he leaned in close.

“So, our Ice Wall Captain has finally been caught, huh?”

Quill endured in silence.

As the Black Knights’ uproar continued to rattle his ears, he resigned himself to the fact that today would be yet another day of torment.

Even the audience in the stands was peering down at them with interest. Meanwhile, in one corner of the arena, the White Knights watched on with visible disdain.

Why, in all of this chaos, were the Black Knights the ones celebrating?

“Saintess, Saintess!”

One after another, they called out to her, and Lynette—ever serious—continued to respond with measured politeness.

Something inside Quill snapped.

“Enough! Silence!”

His voice, bellowing from the gut, instantly quieted not only the Black Knights but the surrounding spectators as well.

“The duel is over. Everyone should return to training. Commander, please issue the necessary orders.”

“O-Oh… Right. My apologies.”

“And one more thing, Commander—please do not turn my engagement into a festival. It only happened yesterday, and I am still adjusting. If you all keep stirring things up like this…”

“And what happens if we do?”

“Then the training I impose on the Second Unit will become severely more intense.”

“That’s not good. If it gets any worse, we might start getting requests for reassignment.”

Though Gies responded as if it were a concern, he looked thoroughly entertained.

Still, it had the desired effect—Quill’s unit quieted down, clearly wary of any increased training.

“And you, Zasha.”

“Huh? Me too?”

“If you keep pushing your luck, I will compile a list of your romantic escapades and post them for all to see.”

“Alright, everyone, back to work! Move it!”

Zasha immediately switched gears, shooing away his subordinates.

Just as he was about to slip away, Quill caught his arm.

“What now?! Is there still more?!”

“One last thing—something I want every single one of you to remember and enforce from this moment on.”

Everyone, including Lynette standing beside him, nodded in agreement.

Even the lingering spectators fell silent, listening intently to Quill’s words.

In the hush that followed—almost reverent in its stillness—Quill spoke the most important truth of all.

“She is Lady Lynette Celies. She is no longer the Saintess.”

Lynette’s head snapped up as if she had been struck.

Startled by his fiancée’s sudden reaction, Quill instinctively raised both hands, wondering if he had said something wrong.

At the manor, and even here in the arena, something had been bothering him.

To her, “Saintess” was a title forced upon her by fate—one she had never asked for, yet one that had burdened her with a weight too great to bear. She had fulfilled that role, paid an enormous price for it, and now that her duty was done, he had assumed she would want to lay the name to rest.

Lynette’s eyes remained fixed on him, unwavering.

For a moment, he thought he saw the faintest movement in her left hand, as if she were about to reach out. But before the silence between them could stretch any further, Quill found himself unable to endure it and averted his gaze.

Unfortunately, where he looked next was no better.

The knights surrounding them all wore matching grins, their expressions relaxed in a way that irritated him.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. We just realized that even Captain Quill is human after all.”

“…What?”

An arm locked around his neck in a firm hold—Zasha, of course.

“You’re right, she’s no longer the Saintess of Aikrant. She’s your precious fiancée now. Must be annoying to hear people calling her something that makes it sound like she still belongs to everyone else.”

“Zasha… You’re misunderstanding—”

“Not at all. I’m just delighted to see you actually have a possessive streak. I think we should celebrate with a toast tonight.”

“That’s not what I meant! Zasha! Listen to me—”

Before he could finish, a sharp jab from Lynette’s index finger pressed into his cheek, followed by a forceful twist.

“Aww, don’t get all flustered now.”

That was the last straw.

“Everyone—escort the spectators out immediately and return to the training grounds. And after that—”

“After that?”

Quill reached over, covered both of Lynette’s ears with his hands, and took a deep breath.

“Two hundred practice swings. All of you!”

“That’s tyranny!!”

A chorus of protests erupted as the knights scattered like spiders fleeing from a flame.

Quill let out a sigh, then turned to glare at Zasha, who was still clinging to him like a persistent shadow.

Zasha raised his hands in surrender, chuckling.

“It’s just that we really do want to celebrate. Try to understand.”

Quill did understand.

That was exactly what made it so complicated.

There was no guarantee that this engagement would ever lead to marriage. In fact, as far as Quill could see, the only path ahead was one that led to an inevitable breakup.