The Final Task of the Forsaken Saint: A Command to Marry the Barbarian Count - Chapter 9

The fact that I hadn’t been scolded by Lord Dirck for defeating the wyvern still seemed too surreal. Not only that, but he had even sent people to recover the body, which I’d left behind. My joke about it serving as a dowry had been a playful quip, but honestly, I was relieved. It was too valuable to waste.

Having spent the entire night chasing wyverns with my staff, I was exhausted, hungry, and in dire need of a bath. I quickly asked the spirits to heat some water and cleaned myself off. When I finished, I threw myself onto the bed.

Ah, this soft, plush bedding was a luxury after the rough nights I’d spent on the road. I was drifting toward sleep when there was a knock at the door.

“Huh?” I mumbled, half-asleep, before considering whether or not I should allow them in.

The door opened just as I was about to decide. In stepped a woman dressed in a dark-colored dress with a pristine white apron. She was about my age, or perhaps a little older. Her light brown hair was neatly tied back, and she rolled in a cart with a neutral expression on her face, like a mask.

This was the maid who had been introduced to me the day before when I was shown to my room.

“Oh, good morning, Sarina.”

She gave a small twitch of her expression but remained impassive as she spoke.

“I’ve brought your breakfast.”

She wheeled in a cart stacked with what looked like a hearty breakfast.

Ah, it was already breakfast time. I had lost track of time after my bath.

“I’ve heard that in the royal capital, people don’t usually work in the mornings and sleep in until midday,” Sarina continued, her voice formal. “If you’re not hungry, I can have it taken away.”

“No, please, I’d love to have it!” I answered quickly, cutting her off.

The delicious smells wafting from the cart were already enough to make my stomach growl. My body was in the mood for food.
I hadn’t eaten much on the journey, and I’d been so preoccupied with fighting wyverns that I hadn’t given myself time to really rest. Now that I had the chance, I was ready to devour anything that was set in front of me.

Sarina seemed slightly surprised but didn’t comment further as she arranged the meal on the table.

The meal was lavish—thick, juicy steaks, a hearty brown stew, and a quiche generously topped with cheese. A luxurious breakfast indeed.

“This is all traditional Rostock cuisine,” Sarina added.

“Wow, thank you! I’m starving!” I exclaimed, my mouth already watering.

During my time in the military and the years spent hunting magical beasts, I had learned that eating a big meal in the morning was essential for keeping up my energy. Back in the royal palace, it was all light fare—tea and bread, maybe a salad or a bit of bacon. But here, they really knew how to provide a meal.

I quickly recited a prayer of thanks to the spirits before diving in.

The meat was tender and juicy, with a rich flavor that melted in my mouth. The stew was thick and savory, and the quiche was absolutely divine.

“This is amazing! I’ve never had such delicious meat! The quiche and stew are fantastic too! The castle’s cook is incredibly talented!”

While I was enthusiastically stuffing my face, Sarina stood silently nearby, watching me with a strange expression on her face. I paused for a moment, suddenly wondering what to do next.
Until my wedding with Lord Dirck in the spring, I would have to stay here in Rostock. It was my first time being in such a situation, and I wasn’t entirely sure what I should be doing.
Just as I was considering my next move, Sarina cleared her throat.

“You may already know this, but Rostock is a prestigious family that has protected the borders since before the founding of Lymieste. As the future Margrave’s wife, you’ll need to become accustomed to the local customs.”

I hadn’t really learned much about Rostock before coming here. All I knew was the gossip I’d overheard from people in the royal court.

Suddenly, I remembered Lord Dirck’s words:
“Rostock will welcome you.”

The saying “When in Rome, do as the Romans do” came to mind. Lord Dirck had made it clear that, despite the political nature of our marriage, he was extending a welcome.

I felt grateful that Sarina would be teaching me about the customs here.

“I’ve been instructed to give you a tour of the castle. Once you finish breakfast, we can begin,” she said.

“Oh, yes, I’d love to!” I answered eagerly, excited for what was to come.

“Then please, change your clothes. Where are they?” she asked.
I blinked a few times at her direct question.

“They’re in the closet,” I said.

I had already unpacked everything last night. Traveling had made me fast at packing, and I was a little proud of how quickly I had gotten it done.

But Sarina’s face froze slightly as she looked at me.

“…I seem to recall that you only had one travel outfit and the Saintess’ formal attire,” she said, her tone a little stiff.
“Yes, that’s right. The formal attire is needed for work,” I replied, realizing the mix-up.

The Saintess’ formal attire was used to show my status, so it made sense to wear it for official duties. But then I realized I probably should have changed yesterday before going out to meet with Lord Dirck. I messed up.

Sarina seemed shocked by this realization.

“Is that really all the clothes you have? Nothing will be sent for you later?” she asked.

“No,” I replied, feeling a little embarrassed.

I had thought everything was fine, but then I realized that my fighting outfit was dirty from the wyvern battle, and my other set of clothes was worn out.

Hmm, well, at worst, I could just wear the formal attire.
Sarina hesitated for a moment before speaking again, as if considering something.

“If it’s alright with you, I’ve prepared some traditional Rostock attire. I can help you change into it, if you’d like.”
That was a stroke of luck!

“Yes, please! I’d love to!” I said, my spirits lifting at the offer.

I eagerly followed Sarina’s lead as she helped me get dressed in the local attire, feeling like I was stepping deeper into the life of Rostock.