BCOM 21

Chapter 21

“Kyaa!” I let out a small scream, and in that moment, he widened his eyes and strode toward us. His long, confident strides were big, but not sloppy.

“I almost walked past without helping, seeing ladies carrying such heavy baskets.”

With a bright smile, the knight effortlessly lifted both baskets—one that Agnes was carrying and the other that Tarin had dropped—one in each hand. In his grasp, they didn’t look heavy at all.

“Oh? What a delicious smell.”

As the baskets came closer, the aroma of food wafted up, and he asked again with another smile. Whether it was because he was speaking in front of women, or because he was always this cheerful, she couldn’t tell. But thanks to his constant smiling, the tension eased considerably.

“We prepared some snacks for everyone. Please come in and have some with us.”

“My, my. Lady Lizerne herself made these? What an honor. Let’s head inside—everyone will be delighted.”

What a hearty person he was.

Following him inside, we passed through a dark corridor until a vast training ground opened up before us.

There, sparring was underway. The intensity was incredible. The very moment the fighters’ shouts rang out, the atmosphere changed. Each gust of air that swept past carried such force that it sent a tingling sensation across the skin.

Was this what they called sword aura? This wasn’t merely a contest of whether one’s blade could cut. These were people who could infuse their swords with energy—and those like Marquis Lizerne, who could even imbue their blades with magic, could rise to the rank of the Imperial Knights’ highest order.

“W-wow…”

From behind, Tamohan’s voice slipped out in awe. The sheer scale of the training grounds, the sturdy, tall figures of the spectators, and the sheer power radiating from the fighters—it was all overwhelming.

It truly was a magnificent sight. But if such capable men existed, why couldn’t they immediately appoint a new commander, instead of summoning her father back to the palace? Was her father really that exceptional—or had they lied just to bring him back?

A swirl of thoughts clouded her mind as she watched the scene in admiration.

“Good! Match over! Tem’s victory!”

Cheers erupted. Apparently, the duel had been team-based, and one side broke into loud celebration at Marquis Lizerne’s announcement.

“You’ve all improved, but you’re still far from ready. At this rate, the honor of the Crofen Imperial Knights won’t be preserved for the next generation.”

Though his voice belonged to an older man, it brimmed with vigor and authority. The knights bowed their heads in agreement.

“Still, you’ve worked hard enough to deserve a reward today.”

Then Lizerne turned toward the entrance. And who had just walked in? Agnes.

The moment his eyes met hers, every knight turned their gaze on her. Agnes, who had been about to call him “Father,” faltered under the weight of all those stares and closed her mouth.

“That’s… her, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s her! No doubt!”

“Greetings, Lady Agnes Lizerne!”

After a brief murmur about her identity, one knight after another raised their voices in greeting.

Seeing their respectful bows, Agnes quickly forgot her nervousness and managed an awkward smile.

“Um, if it’s your break time, please come have some sandwiches. Better to eat them before too much time passes.”

Since she wasn’t holding a basket, she gestured toward the knight who had guided them here. Tamohan, standing at his side, raised the basket for everyone to see.

“Wow! Thank you!”

“We’ll eat well, my lady!”

Without a second thought, the knights rushed eagerly to the snacks.

As the commotion shifted that way, Agnes, smiling warmly, walked toward Lizerne.

“You must’ve worked hard since morning.”

“The hard work was Tarin’s and Belnaro’s, not mine. It’s been sitting for a bit, but it should still be tasty.”

Clad in full armor, he still looked so strong that one could believe he was active duty.

Agnes, briefly entranced, stared at him. Feeling both shy and proud under her gaze, Lizerne straightened his shoulders even more.

“Father, you look amazing in armor.”

“See? He could return to service right now without issue.”

One of the knights, sandwich in hand, chimed in.

“Exactly! If you’d just stay on as commander until a new one is chosen, it would be perfect.”

“Such talk should remain a joke. This empire should never need an old man like me to fight again.”

When the knights looked ready to insist, Lizerne cut them off firmly. They fell silent, realizing he wasn’t just making excuses to avoid responsibility.

It hadn’t been long since peace had come. Crofen, too, had endured painful times, defended by knights who shed blood, sweat, and tears for the empire.

Though the book didn’t cover Agnes’s era in detail, just a few years earlier—back when Lizerne had still been active—there had been a period when monsters roamed, and magic was thriving.

That was why such great strength had been necessary.

But with the monsters gone and magic mysteriously declining, little of that power remained on the continent.

“Even if this era is peaceful, there’s no guarantee such danger won’t return! That’s why I came back. But I must not fight again in these peaceful days.”

Lizerne did not let such remarks pass lightly. It was their time now, their duty to become stronger. They couldn’t afford to rely on others or grow complacent.

“Monsters… a peaceful era…”

Muttering the keywords to himself, Agnes wondered if she should start carrying a notebook to jot such things down.

“Showing off in front of my daughter is embarrassing. Once you finish eating, thirty minutes’ rest! Then the next round begins!”

“Thank you, sir!”

The knights shouted in unison, then devoured the sandwiches enthusiastically. They hadn’t brought drinks, which was a pity, but Belnaro had explained they couldn’t drink too much water mid-training anyway, so she had agreed.

“See? Nothing much to watch. You must be bored—go take a walk outside the grounds.”

“Nothing much? Everything here is amazing! Father looks incredible, and the training ground is wonderful too.”

Agnes spoke from the heart. Charisma wasn’t just about size or sharp blades. It came from true skill, and from an upright heart that looked squarely at the world.

She felt truly grateful to have been born—no, to have ended up—in the body of such a man’s daughter.

To gain someone to respect deeply, someone to love—it was a stirring, overwhelming feeling.

“I hope I’m also counted among the impressive things you’ve seen at the palace.”

Suddenly, from the entrance of the training ground, came a familiar voice. The knights, who had been lounging about, immediately rose and bowed. Even Lizerne bent at the waist.

Agnes slowly, cautiously turned around.

At the entrance stood a man with jet-black hair flowing behind him and eyes as piercingly blue as ice—Theowin. His gaze was fixed solely on her.

Yes, this was the imperial palace, but what were the odds he’d happen to come to the knights’ training grounds at this exact time? The probability was unfathomable. Because…

“You’re late, Crown Prince. The sandwiches are already the knights’ spoils.”

Lizerne welcomed him most warmly.

So it hadn’t been a coincidence at all.

“The messenger should have told me first, but instead came here, saying he had to see you. So I stopped by here before coming to me. I even put down my sword mid-practice.”

At his words, Agnes’s peaceful heart shattered like glass.

“B-but still… you can’t just… swing a sword at someone’s neck over that…”

She imagined the poor messenger’s head flying off while delivering her news. No, no—he wasn’t a tyrant. He was supposed to be gentle. But what if he was only gentle with her, and turned into a madman when working? This was the palace, his domain. She couldn’t stop worrying.

After a deep breath, she realized she was probably overreacting.

“It has been a while, Lady Agnes.”

At the sound of her name from his lips, Agnes lifted her head to meet his gaze—and finally understood.

The times they had met in secret on the terrace… here, those moments were not supposed to exist. Yet if he wanted to erase that past, he shouldn’t be calling her like this, with such tenderness.

Was he doing it on purpose? He couldn’t possibly have slipped by mistake. He was far too calculating for that.

No, this was deliberate. He wanted the knights to see how casually he spoke with his future Crown Princess.

Agnes caught his intent easily. So she simply stuck to the bare minimum of formal courtesy—and made no move beyond that.