Chapter 7
“Why? Don’t tell me you’re starting to feel something too?”
It was said in a joking tone, but beneath it lingered a faint wariness.
Rather than avoiding the implication, Callahan curled one corner of his lips and asked back,
“What do you think?”
“……”
Gerard studied his sunken gaze as if probing it, then, as though the tension had never existed, quickly returned to his usual sly expression and began to jest.
It was a way of conducting himself befitting a prince who had survived countless bloody political struggles by walking a razor’s edge without ever quite crossing the line.
“Well, I suppose. You’ve already got a woman marked as yours, don’t you?”
“There you go again with that nonsense.”
“Why? Not satisfied with the passionate devotion of a noble-blooded lady?”
Gerard was referring to the woman who had been used as a spy in this war. It had become such a tiresome, low-quality joke that her name no longer even needed to be mentioned.
The woman who had pointed to Callahan, saying she would accept him—the knight—as the price for betraying her homeland. Princess Anette.
How foolish. She never realized that Gerard had no habit of tossing bones to hunting dogs once they’d outlived their usefulness. By now, she’s probably tied up alongside the very family she betrayed.
The memory resurfaced—the irritating moment when she had singled him out like a coveted prize, and Gerard had burst into loud, delighted laughter as if the world itself were amusing him.
Watching Callahan’s expression gradually crumple, Gerard snickered.
“Ah, right. It wasn’t you who marked her—it was the other way around, wasn’t it?”
“……”
Instead of replying, Callahan rose to his feet.
If he stayed here any longer, he might end up silencing that man’s reckless mouth by force.
“I’m telling you, if you want her, just say the word. She had a certain bold charm, didn’t she? And her face wasn’t bad either… Where are you going?”
“The camp still needs organizing.”
“You’re just going to leave like that?”
“You said you had something important to discuss. Turns out it’s just pointless chatter.”
“What, do you have a secret meeting with that princess or something? …Alright, alright, I’ll stop. Just don’t leave me behind.”
Whether he meant it or not, Gerard continued his nonsense as he quickly followed after Callahan, who had already stepped outside.
“Take care of those sweaty brutes later. Right now, we’ve got somewhere to be—together.”
“Where?”
“If I’m supposed to decide whether to accept her proposal, I should at least see the lady who wants to become my bride. That’s why we’re going.”
The topic he thought had passed resurfaced, and Callahan felt his breath catch.
That woman—and Gerard.
Perhaps because he remembered her as nothing more than a child, the image of that blonde girl standing beside Gerard, linking arms with him, made his stomach churn.
No matter how he thought about it, they were a completely mismatched pair.
That must have been why he found himself asking something unnecessary.
“You’re not actually considering accepting, are you?”
“As if. Do you think I’d let myself be tied down for such a cheap price? Who do you take me for?”
“……”
“I’m not satisfied with a tiny little country like Verita. I’m aiming higher. You know that, so why ask?”
At Gerard’s rebuke, Callahan stretched his lips into a faint smile, quietly relieved.
“I’m just going to take a look. Not coming? If you’re really that busy, I’ll take another knight.”
Gerard stepped back slightly, but Callahan shook his head faster.
“No. I’ll go with you.”
“Oh? What brought this on?”
“I should see for myself what kind of situation the Devonshire ducal house is in.”
“Ha. That’s just like you—boring as ever.”
“You fought this war for fun?”
“About half, maybe?”
The two bickered as they walked.
Subordinates passing by saluted them, casting curious glances at their backs.
Gerard felt caution and envy toward Callahan; Callahan felt disdain and exasperation toward Gerard.
Neither said it outright, but neither made much effort to hide it either.
And yet, for all that, they had fought back-to-back on the battlefield, clawing their way to the very peak of power together.
There was no way that comrades who had crossed the line between life and death side by side felt nothing for each other.
“All set? Then let’s move!”
Only after climbing into the carriage on impulse did Callahan reflect on his actions.
Was he really following Gerard just to inspect matters?
Of course not.
With the duke already having surrendered, it wasn’t anything urgent compared to other duties.
The excuse he had hastily put together had sounded convincing enough beneath his impassive face—but only because it happened to fit.
Callahan summarized his irrational behavior simply:
I just want to confirm it.
The girl who had brushed past him on the day his world collapsed. A fragment that stirred that terrible memory.
This suffocating feeling rising from within—surely, it was nothing more than that.
Fixing his gaze deliberately on the documents in front of him, he suppressed the unpleasant pounding in his chest.
But his concentration didn’t last long. Gerard simply wouldn’t stop talking.
“Have you heard? Apparently, there’s been a lot of portrait fraud in marriage proposals these days.”
“……”
“Don’t you think this painting looks suspiciously beautiful? What if it’s fake? If it is, I’ll just—!”
“……”
“Ah, I just hope she’s at least half as pretty as this.”
Callahan, who had ignored Gerard’s rambling all this time, finally set the document down with a sharp motion.
“Does appearance matter? You’re going to reject the proposal anyway.”
“Well, that’s true, but you see, my reasoning runs deeper than that.”
“I’m sure.”
“What? Aren’t you going to ask what my deep reasoning is?”
“I’d rather not hear anything more vulgar.”
“Hey, you brat. Even if I’m your superior—”
“How about you stay quiet for once? I’m doing the work you’re supposed to review.”
When Callahan thrust the documents toward him, Gerard recoiled in disgust and shut his mouth. At last, silence settled inside the carriage.
As Callahan continued to copy Gerard’s signature in neat, steady strokes despite the carriage’s swaying, the owner of that signature—the commander of the occupying army—leaned back, yawning lazily as he gazed out the window.
Forging a royal’s handwriting was a grave crime, but between the two of them, it was a frequent occurrence.
Stretching out across his seat, Gerard glanced sideways at Callahan through eyes dampened by his yawn.
A striking officer.
Back when they were boy soldiers, the man had stubbornly insisted he was nothing more than a commoner from the borderlands. Yet even in the makeshift military academy, he had always displayed overwhelming skill—whether in combat or strategy.
And at the award ceremony where Gerard, as a prince, had participated to boost morale, the boy had boldly demanded a position at his side, declaring he would never regret it.
A commoner without even a family registry?
Clicking his tongue inwardly as he looked him over, Gerard met Callahan’s gaze—who clearly disliked being stared at—and smirked with one corner of his mouth.
Who would believe that, you lunatic?
The ragged, undergrown orphan boy soldier from over a decade ago—who had possessed nothing but a fierce glint in his eyes—was now unrecognizably refined.
Yet those eyes, revealing a stubbornly upright nature, remained unchanged.
Even beyond strategy and swordsmanship, he had always been the kind of person who stood out in every way—like an awl hidden in a pocket.
Whatever his story, he was clearly not from an ordinary background.
One of the usual clichés was probably true: a criminal, an illegitimate child, the descendant of a traitor…
But what does it matter?
His superiors had all found him irritating, suppressing him while secretly fearing him.
But Gerard was different.
At times, people would turn their gaze away from him—the brilliant prince—and look instead at Callahan.
His sister. His father. The knights.
Even the noble ladies who once lifted their skirts so easily at a single charming smile of his.
Whenever that happened, a feeling would rise within him—but Gerard always suppressed it without much thought.
After all, wasn’t it thanks to those petty, inferior superiors that he had been able to claim this man for himself?
Reaching out a hand to lift the boy who had been abused at the military academy—that had been the most profitable decision of Gerard’s life.
The soldier he had taken in for amusement had displayed dazzling talent beneath him, elevating him to where he stood now.
It was thanks to his easygoing nature and the deep-rooted arrogance of someone born and raised as a legitimate royal.
That’s right. Only someone as magnanimous as me could keep a man like this by his side.
Humming to himself as he admired Callahan—now almost like an extension of himself—Gerard deliberately ignored the growing stack of documents being subtly pushed toward him and shut his eyes again.
As the grand castle came into view in the distance, Gerard smacked his lips.
“Seeing it in person makes me want it even more. Maybe I should’ve just ignored the surrender letter and wiped them out. Then it’d all be mine.”
“There may still be ears listening, even here.”
“I know. Just saying.”
Ignoring Gerard’s usual nonsense, Callahan surveyed the estate with a dry gaze.
This place, now openly called the Devonshire ducal residence, had originally belonged to Grand Duke Clifford—the man who had annihilated his family.
After his death, under the pretext that Roseline was too young to inherit, the maternal relatives—Devonshire—had taken over its management, eventually moving in completely as if it were their own.
A flicker of displeasure rose within him, but he suppressed it along with his gaze.
It has nothing to do with me.
No matter how they fought over interests among themselves, both sides had actively participated in the destruction of the Reinz family.
To him, they were all equally detestable.
“What are you standing around for? Let’s go.”
At Gerard’s impatient urging, Callahan finally began to walk.
The target of the revenge he had waited for his entire life was now close enough to grasp.
