"—a knight who is on the verge of reaching the Crownblade rank."

Lucas frowned.

"Crownblade?" he repeated. "What's that?"

"The highest title for an active knight," Silvara replied shortly. "Not just strength. It's an official recognition from the Empire."

Lucas fell silent.

"…Seriously?"

Silvara glanced at him briefly. "Yes."

Lucas instinctively looked toward the field, then toward the distant house.

"If that's the case," he said quietly, "then why did she do nothing back then when the Voss family was mocked by those moneylenders?"

Silvara cut him off before he could draw his own conclusion.

"Because in that matter," she said firmly, "her strength was useless."

Lucas looked at her.

"If the Baroness had used violence against moneylenders protected by an official contract," Silvara continued, "she would have been the one in the wrong. Legally."

She crossed her arms.

"And a Crownblade—or even a Crownblade candidate—is not above the law. In fact, they are monitored more strictly."

Lucas was silent for quite a while.

"Laws like the article you mentioned before?" he asked.

"Correct."

Lucas let out a quiet breath.

Inside his mind, his thoughts moved quickly.

So she's not weak in terms of power… she's bound by politics.

He stared at the ground.

Or more precisely—she's bad at playing it.

Lucas clicked his tongue softly.

"…That's some pretty shocking information," he muttered.

Silvara did not respond.

Lucas spoke again, his tone curious.

"I'm curious," he said. "How does she use a sword?"

Silvara turned to look at him.

"She doesn't," she replied flatly.

Lucas blinked.

"Huh?"

"The Baroness is a lance user," Silvara continued calmly.

Liona merely listened.

She did not say much—only occasionally casting glances toward the horse-drawn carriage in the distance.

Lucas, however, frowned.

"…Then why," he muttered, "is the region she governs this poor?"

He looked up at Silvara.

"And why didn't she just become a Crownblade?"

Silvara was silent for a moment.

"…I don't know," she said at last. "I only learned all of that back when I was still studying at the Grimhelt estate."

She shook her head slightly.

"I also don't understand why she abandoned that path," Silvara continued, her tone indifferent,

"got married, and then…"

Her gaze flicked briefly toward Lucas.

"…had a foolish child."

Liona finally spoke up, her voice gentle.

"Life is indeed full of surprises," she said lightly.

Lucas gave a small nod. "Yeah."

But something felt different.

Lucas turned his head.

Liona's tone—slightly higher than usual.

"Even the whiny little girl who used to be my friend back in Maidternal," she said.

"Huh?" Lucas muttered softly.

Liona continued, her tone now clearly annoyed.

"Thinking I'am short—even though she's the one who grew ridiculously tall."

—

A brief silence followed.

Lucas and Silvara both looked at her.

Not directly—

but with very obvious side-eyes.

Liona stopped.

She pouted.

"Don't look at me like that," she said quickly.

"I'm not short."

At that moment—

A maid approached from the direction of the dirt road.

She looked fairly old, her hair neatly tied up in a bun, her steps calm and practiced. In both hands, she carried a wooden tray filled with food.

She stopped in front of them and bowed deeply.

"Excuse me, Young Master," she greeted respectfully.

She then shifted the tray toward Liona.

"Lunch has been prepared," she said calmly.

Liona accepted it promptly.

The maid bowed again—this time a little deeper—then turned and left.

As she walked away—

Her hand clenched gently in front of her chest, right over her heart. She glanced back slightly.

Liona…

Inside her mind, a brief thought passed through.

After your tough duty is over…

I will give you a warm hug to ease you…

She turned her gaze forward again.

—

In the back courtyard of the estate—

The Baroness and Matruska were still seated across from each other, each holding a cup of warm tea.

Thin steam rose slowly into the air.

A short while earlier, their attention had been briefly diverted—by a small confusion regarding the relationship between Lucian and Silvara, which felt strange to both of them, as neither believed Silvara could possibly smile so happily because of Lucian Voss.

But once that passed, their conversation resumed its gentle flow.

Matruska took a sip of her tea, then glanced at the Baroness over the rim of her cup.

"So," she said casually, "how is your life these days?"

The Baroness thought for a moment.

"Not too burdensome," she answered honestly. "I can still manage."

She paused, then added in a softer tone.

"It's just that… I've been thinking about my husband."

Matruska raised an eyebrow.

"My husband seems to be working very hard," the Baroness continued. "More than he should."

Matruska let out a long sigh.

"In that case," she said, "you should support him wholeheartedly and be a good wife."

The Baroness nodded immediately. "Hey, I support him every minute, you know!"

Matruska looked at her for a few seconds, then shook her head slightly with a faint smile.

"Hmph," she said. "It seems that arrow is still lodged in your heart."

The teasing in her tone was unmistakable.

The Baroness blushed.

"Ah—" she averted her gaze. "Come on."

She looked back at Matruska with restrained embarrassment.

"Don't bring up what I said back when I first saw my husband."

—

A short while later—

Matruska stood up and straightened her long coat.

"Well then," she said lightly. "I should be going."

The Baroness stood as well. "I'll see you out."

They walked together to the front of the manor.

There, Matruska stopped and glanced back one last time.

"Take care of yourself," she said briefly.

The Baroness smiled faintly. "Safe travels."

Matruska then departed, her steps steady as she made her way out of the Voss Residence.

And at the same time as her departure—

—

On the outskirts of Voss Town—

Aldric and Boran were still relaxing inside a tavern.

No training.

No sweat.

Just a wooden table filled with food, constantly refilled drinks, and the light laughter of other patrons.

But Boran was different.

He was far quieter than when he had first met Aldric.

Aldric glanced at him while taking a sip of his drink.

"…What's with you?" he asked casually.

Boran was silent for a moment, then leaned in slightly and whispered.

"It's nothing. I'm just…"

"…thinking about your plan."

Aldric raised an eyebrow but did not comment at the time.

Not long after, they left the tavern—the meal was over.

They walked along the main road of Voss Town.

Simple street lamps were lit. The atmosphere was calm.

And that was when Aldric truly noticed it.

Boran was gloomy.

His steps slowed. His gaze was vacant.

Aldric clicked his tongue in irritation.

"What is wrong with you?" he said bluntly. "You've looked like someone about to be sentenced this whole time."

Boran lowered his head slightly.

"I was only thinking about your plan, Sir Aldric."

Aldric stopped walking.

"…Oh?"

He turned sharply.

"Are you starting to feel reluctant about the Voss family or... the Baroness?"

Boran blinked.

"N–no… not at all," he replied quickly.

Yet inside his mind, one thought kept repeating.

Truthfully, the Baroness did not need to be involved either.

Seeing Boran's hesitation, Aldric let out a small laugh.

"Let me put your conscience at ease," he said, patting Boran on the shoulder.

"Listen here—those bandits will never reach the town once they arrive at the manor."

Boran frowned. "Why?"

"Because—"

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