Chapter 39
“Where’s the training ground? I want to go there now.”
It was still early, but her body itched for action.
As expected, not even a day could go by without training.
“Excellent!”
The White Dragon, who had popped out again, shouted with glee.
At Maya’s words, Dossen blinked, then smiled.
‘So training is more important to her.’
It seemed that the social world wouldn’t be much of a concern for Maya.
Her lack of interest in such things was, in a way, a blessing.
This odd lady of the house was becoming more and more to Dossen’s liking.
The Bayarden estate was backed by a large forest—
a private hunting ground that also doubled as an ideal training site.
After changing into the training outfit Dossen brought, Maya began her drills.
In the spacious clearing, she swung her sword freely.
Sweating it out left her body feeling refreshed.
Training was also a way of bonding with the White Dragon.
The Sword of Pendragon could take on different forms as the bond with its master deepened.
Before losing her sense of self in her past life, Maya had seen two forms:
a slender sword she usually used, and twin blades that resembled a fusion of the two.
‘I’m not fond of the dual blades—they’re not as familiar…’
But if it were possible to summon other types of swords, it would be helpful.
The Sword of Pendragon didn’t necessarily match its appearance in weight.
“Feels good to move around.”
The White Dragon, who had been flying around with the wyvern, now hovered lazily in mid-air, muttering.
“I wonder when monsters will show up…”
He chattered on, looking visibly antsy.
It was still a marvel to Maya that the Sword of Pendragon had a personality like his.
After all, he looked just like her.
Then a thought struck her.
‘Would Bayarden and Tristan have similar personifications?’
Her curiosity got the better of her, and she asked aloud.
“Hey, White Dragon—you said you’re part of Pendragon’s will, right? Then does Bayarden’s will have its own personification too?”
The White Dragon shrugged.
“Beats me. Even I don’t know what I know.”
Being a fragment of a consciousness made for a convenient excuse.
He remembered when he wanted, spoke when he wanted.
“Is there any way you can find more of Pendragon’s consciousness? Or maybe even memories?”
Now that she said it aloud, it seemed like a huge advantage if he could.
After all, her past and present lives shared the same thread.
‘I wonder how I solved things in the past.’
She was also curious about the life that came after her death.
Some events, like Tristan’s proposal or the appearance of the White Serpent, would have occurred regardless of her choices.
‘The Demon King and his minions, including the White Serpent, must’ve shown up back then too.’
How had Tristan dealt with it before?
Could Bayarden have defeated them on his own?
“Maya!”
A familiar voice called from afar.
Maya turned to see none other than Tristan running toward her.
Backlit by the setting sun, his face was cast in shadow—
yet his smiling expression was clearly visible. Not just because of her good eyesight.
Because it was Tristan.
“Seems like spending the night together had some effect.”
Tristan smiled as he came closer, his dark hair glimmering like stardust in the night sky.
“Did you have a good trip? You could’ve stayed longer—I feel bad you didn’t get to enjoy yourself.”
“I had plenty of fun.”
She had fitted about ten dresses today.
The one for the upcoming banquet was finished, and the rest would follow on schedule.
Besides that, she bought five dresses from Ophrasé that had been pre-made in loose sizes.
When Maya saw a price tag in the carriage that rivaled her entire annual salary as a former knight commander, she was genuinely shocked.
“For you, I’d spend it all.”
With those sweet words and that beautiful smile, Maya found herself unable to look away.
It was supposed to be kindness for the sake of their contract—but why did it feel like seduction?
Did he even realize how criminally charming he was when he spoke with that face?
‘Maybe it’s because he hasn’t dealt with the social world yet…’
At this rate, he’d be swindled out of all his money.
Maya narrowed her eyes and warned him.
“Tristan, you shouldn’t say things like that so lightly. What if I really drain the Bayarden family dry?”
“If the lady of the house is happy, who am I to object?”
He didn’t seem like someone who could be talked out of it easily.
When Maya shook her head in disbelief, Tristan burst into laughter.
“Let’s go in. Dinner is ready.”
“Yes.”
“Maya.”
Standing behind her, Tristan leaned in and whispered near her ear.
“I want to carry you.”
“Carry me?”
“After all, we’ve already shared a bed. This is nothing, isn’t it?”
“…”
“It’s also for breaking your curse.”
Physical contact was necessary to keep Maya from losing herself again.
She didn’t have time to hesitate.
“…True.”
The moment she nodded, Tristan scooped her into a princess carry without a second thought.
“Waa—”
Maya let out a soft, surprised noise and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.
It sounded far too delicate coming from her own lips. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat.
“Ahem. That was embarrassing.”
“It’s okay.”
Tristan’s low voice soothed her.
His deep gaze shimmered with sincerity, tightening the nerves in her chest.
“At least in front of me.”
Bathed in the last rays of twilight, his face looked like a painting.
‘There it is again, that strange feeling.’
Like someone tickling her heart with a feather.
Did Tristan know?
That his smile, voice, and gestures were shaking her?
That even though she tried to lock her heart away, he kept knocking?
‘…After all the blood on these hands.’
She reminded herself not to place too much meaning on his actions.
With a small smile, she resolved again.
“I will.”
“…”
“Just until the contract ends.”
But Maya forgot one thing.
She might think she was hiding her emotions,
but her face always gave her away.
‘She wavered.’
He didn’t know how much.
But that alone was enough to satisfy Tristan.
The day before the banquet, Ophrasé’s dresses arrived safely at the Bayarden estate.
After fitting them and taking a bath, Maya lay down on her bed.
She had completely collapsed after Ophrasé’s visit.
Dossen, considerate as always, had taken care of preparing the necessary jewelry and accessories.
But now that she was lying down, sleep wouldn’t come.
“The banquet is tomorrow.”
The thought that she’d be facing Risherfield made it all feel real.
Maya imagined what she’d be like when she met him.
Not slitting his throat on sight would be praiseworthy enough, but…
What she really worried about was her mouth.
“Even I don’t know what I might say.”
The first impression of the Grand Duchess of Bayarden was… concerning.
“I should warn him ahead of time.”
She figured it was only right to set some boundaries around the topic of Tristan.
She didn’t want to mar his perfect life.
“Or maybe I should ask Tristan if he has a better idea.”
Yes, maybe he’d know how to handle it.
“What’s got you thinking so hard?”
Tristan whispered beside her, his breath tickling her ear.
“Worried I might make a huge mess at the banquet.”
Maya’s voice was serious, but Tristan only chuckled.
“I’m being serious.”
“I know. And I don’t mind.”
His quick answer left Maya momentarily confused.
“What do you mean, you don’t mind…?”
“I’ve long been out of favor with the emperor and the capital’s elite. It doesn’t matter what you say.”
It was the kind of remark that would make Dossen jump in protest, but Tristan meant it.
Now that he’d taken a closer look at the capital, his convictions were only growing stronger.
Compared to the north—with its frozen lands and frequent monster attacks—the capital might seem like heaven.
But the people here were far more miserable.
All because of one man.
And something about Emperor Risherfield’s recent silence felt off.
Rumors said Otto, Elise, and their son Maguire of House Pendragon hadn’t shown up at gambling dens lately.
Unthinkable, for people obsessed with gambling.
Either they were dead… or hiding.
So why?
Tristan suspected a conspiracy between Risherfield and the Pendragons.
They were likely planning to humiliate him at this banquet.
Though whether that would work on Maya was doubtful…
Regardless, he didn’t want to see her in an awkward position.
“I mean it, Maya. Say whatever you want.”
Maya looked into his eyes.
And when she did, she really felt like she could.
Dangerous.
The longer she stayed by his side, the more spoiled she became.
“…You take my side too much, Tristan.”
He responded as if it were obvious.
“Husbands are family.”
Family.
“If your family doesn’t take your side, who will?”
That word—family—stuck deep in Maya’s heart.
