CHAPTER 09
In the midst of the confusion, Lady Esselheim finally regained her composure and asked again,
“…And you’re saying that Sir Liet claims Lord Norwich acted alone, without the Grand Duke’s orders, in kidnapping Lord Philrod Aachen’s bride-to-be?”
“Yes, that’s correct!” Liet answered loudly.
“The benevolent Grand Duke said that if I arrived before Lord Rahan Norwich caused any trouble, I was to put a rope around his neck and drag him back!”
“…And if he had already caused trouble?”
“Oh, in that case,” Liet narrowed her eyes and looked at Rahan.
“He said, ‘I entrust Rahan Norwich to the just, fair, and boundless grace of Eridrahan, like the sea.’”
“In other words…”
“It means Lord Norwich will be exiled to Windrock Monastery for the time being.”
Even Rahan couldn’t hold back anymore. He opened his mouth in disbelief.
This woman—surely not…
Liet looked at him and grinned.
“For the next three months, you may not leave the 2,000-cubit radius surrounding Windrock Monastery.”
Rahan’s body stiffened.
“That’s absurd!”
But it wasn’t Rahan who shouted—it was Philrod Aachen.
“Hey! Lady Knight!”
“I prefer to go by Liet Klein, which is my name,” she snapped back.
As one of the Grand Duchy’s top knights, Liet had a hobby of leaving a nice scratch across the foreheads of those who called her “lady knight.”
Rahan instinctively glanced at Philrod’s forehead. It was wide enough to paint a canvas. Naturally—he was bald.
Philrod, oblivious to Rahan’s rude thoughts, seethed.
“If what you say is true, then he deserves to be executed! I will slay that devil’s spawn right now and repay both the Grand Duke’s grudge and mine!”
Abbot Wilbert, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow. The man talked big, but he likely planned to marry Erishi—Rahan’s bride—once Rahan was dealt with.
“Unfortunately, that’s not possible,” Liet immediately interrupted.
“The Grand Duke plans to come here in person after a three-month recovery period to pass judgment on Rahan Norwich.”
“Ridiculous!”
Philrod ignored her and drew his sword. The sound of steel rang coldly through the courtyard.
“If Grand Duke Lachaise truly wants to punish Rahan Norwich, what’s wrong with me doing it for him?”
“Well…” Liet replied coldly, unfazed by his drawn weapon, “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with that?”
Philrod flinched.
He had his suspicions that this entire situation was fabricated.
The Grand Duke lost his eyesight? And to cover it up, Rahan Norwich stole his bride?
It was all just too convenient.
Still, he couldn’t recklessly charge forward. If Liet Klein was telling the truth, the Grand Duke could use any interference as a reason to challenge House Aachen.
Philrod hesitated.
‘Should I just kill Rahan Norwich right here?’
But when he looked at Rahan, the man already had his sword out.
“I’m not giving my life to a pig like you,” he said, glaring at him with blood-red eyes.
Philrod suddenly broke into a cold sweat.
In all the chaos, he’d forgotten that this was that Rahan Norwich—the knight who singlehandedly slaughtered heretics of Til Neve Chedric until corpses piled like mountains.
Philrod had over ten guards with him, but Rahan’s skill was legendary.
Would Rahan Norwich obediently accept punishment?
Of course not.
‘What should I do?’
“This is the courtyard of Eridrahan. Both of you, sheathe your swords.”
Just then, Abbot Wilbert stepped in at the perfect moment.
“But, Abbot Wilbert!” Philrod protested loudly, though inwardly he was relieved.
The abbot shook his head.
“Please calm yourselves. Given the situation, I suggest you both rest for the night.”
“You expect me to sit still after my bride’s been stolen? Are you siding with that scoundrel too?”
Philrod glared, but Wilbert responded sternly.
“I believe you’re aware of how actively I’ve supported House Aachen during this engagement.”
Philrod clenched his teeth.
It was true. Ever since it became public that House Aachen was protecting their daughter, Abbot Wilbert had shown them unwavering support.
Of course, Wilbert was also the one who secretly arranged for Erishi to be kidnapped—but Philrod didn’t know that.
Furthermore…
“If you can’t trust me, I swear on my brother’s name.”
Wilbert was the younger brother of Archbishop Victor. The moment he invoked his brother’s name, Philrod had no choice but to back off.
“…Tch.”
In the end, Philrod retreated—but not quietly.
“I will formally protest this to Grand Duke Lachaise. I’ll also make sure this marriage is nullified by the Emperor himself. And I’ll ensure that scoundrel gets what he deserves! Do you hear me, you devil’s brat?!”
Rahan only shrugged at Philrod’s finger-pointing. That calm demeanor made Philrod grind his teeth in rage.
“Even the Emperor won’t ignore this situation,” added Lady Esselheim.
It was a comment meant to calm things down and keep Philrod in check—since the current Emperor was exactly the type to ignore such incidents.
No one knew better than the Emperor how badly House Aachen, led by Herbert Aachen, had behaved. The Emperor was also the one who used Archbishop Victor to manipulate marriage alliances for his children.
“For now, we’ll leave the accused in the custody of the monastery. Did Grand Duke Lachaise intend it that way?”
“Yes, Abbot. He also instructed me to ensure Rahan Norwich remains here until he arrives.”
“Very well. Let’s hope the Grand Duke acts wisely.”
With that, Abbot Wilbert brought the situation to a close.
Philrod left, still fuming, leading his men away.
Lady Esselheim also said, “We will return to the capital tomorrow,” and left with her entourage.
Now, in the monastery courtyard, only the priests, Liet, Rahan, and—quietly standing off to the side—Erishi remained.
“You two,” Abbot Wilbert looked at Rahan and Erishi with a tired expression.
“Come with me.”
Though it sounded like a request, it was essentially a command.
Rahan sighed.
* * *
Windrock Monastery, which hadn’t seemed that large during the infiltration, turned out to be a massive structure. Built on the empire’s western frontier, it had once been a fortress used to counter magicians.
Inside the outer wall, the inner compound had four buildings—though only one seemed to still be in use, likely due to the difficulty of upkeep.
The abbot’s office was on the second floor of a low, central building.
Despite the impressive exterior, the interior was poor. It was a poor monastery, after all. Even the abbot’s office only contained a few chairs and a desk.
‘Compared to Archbishop Victor, this brother is incredibly frugal,’ Rahan thought as he looked around.
Meanwhile, Abbot Wilbert let out a long sigh.
“This is what I hoped for, but… I’m not sure it was the right decision.”
As he had planned, Erishi had been kidnapped and had consummated the marriage with Rahan Norwich. The Emperor’s maids had confirmed it.
Philrod had failed in his ambitions and gone home.
Wilbert had gotten everything he wanted—yet now he questioned whether it was right.
Rahan, whose life had turned upside down—falling from the Grand Duke’s right hand to a fugitive scoundrel exiled in the countryside—couldn’t help but feel bitter.
So the sarcasm naturally slipped out.
“If you weren’t sure it was right, why swear on Archbishop Victor’s name?”
