‘Ah… If only she were the heir…’
If that had been the case, Zeppelin Vincend wouldn’t be struggling with this headache now.
Her features looked as if someone had cut out Duke Theodor Elten’s younger face and pasted it onto her. That uncanny resemblance stirred a sense of nostalgia in him.
‘If she uses a sword, would her form resemble His Grace’s as well?’
Zeppelin naturally imagined Bellady Elten holding a sword.
‘The Duke always opens with a thrust to the right. Of course, against overwhelming skill, habits don’t matter… But if Lady Bellady does the same, it’s worth correcting just in case.’
Once the thought began, it didn’t stop. Before long, Zeppelin found himself enthusiastically teaching swordsmanship to an imaginary Bellady.
Just as he imagined her red eyes meeting his—
‘Huh…?’
The moment he thought her gaze felt too intense—
Bang!
A sharp gunshot rang loudly in his ear.
Only then did Zeppelin return to reality.
“How about it, Sir Vincend?”
It wasn’t his imagination—Bellady really was looking at him.
Her confident smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and Zeppelin bit the inside of his cheek.
‘Zeppelin Vincend, pull yourself together. Enough with these ridiculous daydreams…!’
“…Pardon?”
His reply came a beat late. Fortunately, Bellady didn’t seem to mind. She pointed to the left with her chin.
Following her gesture, Zeppelin spotted a sleek red-furred fox collapsed beneath a tree.
That red fox was one of only two released by the Emperor specifically for this hunting tournament. She was clearly calling him over to show off her catch.
Guessing her intent, Zeppelin clapped stiffly.
“Impressive, Lady Bellady.”
Was she trying to show off this time?
He had only meant to give a formal compliment, but Bellady’s brow twitched slightly.
It was the same subtle reaction Duke Theodor Elten often showed when something displeased him. Once again, Zeppelin couldn’t help but be impressed.
‘Even those little habits… she mirrors him completely!’
But then he paused.
‘Wait… does that mean she didn’t like my reaction?’
Zeppelin stopped clapping and recalled what had just happened.
He’d been imagining training her in swordsmanship. Then their eyes met. A gunshot rang out. The fox was down.
A sudden hypothesis flashed through his mind.
‘No way…’
His voice was low.
“Did you… shoot the red fox without even looking at it?”
The red fox wasn’t like an ordinary animal.
It carried the blood of magical beasts, making it significantly faster and more alert than typical prey—extremely difficult to hunt.
The Emperor hadn’t released them into the forest for no reason.
‘He likely wanted to balance the difficulty so the nobles wouldn’t just decimate ordinary animals.’
Naturally, red foxes were worth the most points. And since their fur was highly sensitive, the cleaner the shot, the more points it earned.
Recalling this, Zeppelin looked at the fox again. Its fur was completely intact—Bellady had landed a perfect headshot.
‘I’m sure the shot came after we made eye contact. She wasn’t even looking at the fox.’
Yet she had hit it that precisely? Was that even humanly possible?
Zeppelin gripped his reins tightly to stop his hands from trembling.
Then Bellady spoke again.
“So? What do you think, Sir Vincend?”
“About what, my lady?”
“My hunting skills. You’ve been following me the whole time, haven’t you?”
Zeppelin nodded instinctively.
“Flawless.”
He completely re-evaluated Bellady Elten.
‘The first daughter of Duke Theodor Elten.’
Now, so many additional accolades could be added to that title.
That she inherited her father’s superior genetics. That her reflexes were unrivaled.
‘More than anything… she might be the genius I’ve been searching for.’
Just the thought made his heart swell.
But…
‘What does it matter?’
She was the Empire’s only duke’s daughter. A person far beyond his reach.
Besides, he’d been trying to come up with a plan to avoid teaching her brother, Meldor.
‘I can’t suddenly say I want to teach the daughter instead.’
It wasn’t a realistic possibility.
His momentary excitement cooled. With a firm but sincere tone, Zeppelin said:
“You truly possess skills equal to His Grace.”
“As a knight? Or… worthy of acknowledgment by the leader of the Watchers?”
At her question, Zeppelin subtly inhaled.
‘What… what did she just say?’
From Bellady’s mouth had come a word he never expected to hear.
The emotions he had just repressed surged back. Zeppelin hardened his expression to avoid revealing his turmoil and looked her straight in the eye.
Her red eyes arched slightly, as if amused.
To Zeppelin, they now resembled the gaze of a predator. He couldn’t even swallow—his throat was dry.
“…Forgive me. I’m not sure what you mean.”
Feigning ignorance, he spoke calmly.
How Bellady knew about the Watchers, or that he was their leader—he had no idea.
‘But I can’t admit it so easily.’
Bellady tilted her head slightly at his denial.
“Hmm… Is that so?”
But she didn’t avert her eyes. The persistent stare made his fingertips prickle.
Until now, he had believed Bellady resembled her father, Duke Theodor Elten—but in this moment, their differences became strikingly clear.
‘His Grace’s pressure has a different tone entirely.’
When Duke Theodor applied pressure, he never smiled.
When he got serious, the entire atmosphere would freeze with a merciless chill.
But Bellady’s presence was…
‘The type that slowly coils and tightens around your throat.’
If he didn’t retreat soon, he would be crushed under her weight—he could feel it in his bones.
A bead of sweat slid down his temple.
People often described the direct line of the Elten family like this:
“Monsters who can strangle a man with just a look.”
It wasn’t wrong.
Who else could push someone to their limit with just their gaze?
And Zeppelin… loved those monsters.
‘No—I must endure this.’
He nearly confessed everything under her aura. He bit down hard on his lip.
How long had he endured her gaze?
At last, a horn blew in the distance—the signal that the hunt had ended.
Only then did Bellady ease the oppressive atmosphere.
“When will someone bring the box for my fox?”
“…Ah.”
Zeppelin forced out his voice.
“I’ll retrieve it.”
“Alright. I’ll go ahead and return.”
‘Thank heavens.’
Zeppelin breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
He adored the charisma of the Elten bloodline—but standing in front of them always drained him.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he turned his horse, when a low voice caught him.
“Sir Vincend.”
“Yes!”
This time, he answered immediately. Bellady raised the corners of her mouth slightly.
“Would you consider training someone from the main Elten bloodline?”
Another bombshell.
Zeppelin was glad he hadn’t dismounted—his knees might have given out, and she would have seen it.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean, my lady. I’ll see you at the tent.”
Before she could drop another bomb, Zeppelin gave a quick bow and galloped away.
As he rode, he struggled to steady his breathing.
‘Impossible. There’s no way…’
Duke Theodor would never allow it.
There was no benefit in remaining close to someone who wasn’t the heir, and who knew about the Watchers.
Besides—what could he even teach her?
Even so, her words lingered in his ears.
“Would you consider training someone from the main Elten bloodline?”
After that day, Zeppelin spent a long time torn between instinct and reason.
*
“She held out better than I expected.”
I watched Zeppelin’s retreating figure, then casually guided Alexander forward.
‘As expected of the Watchers’ commander.’
Most people couldn’t endure my gaze. But Zeppelin had kept his composure—mostly. Though the tension in him was clear.
‘Well, I’ve laid the bait.’
Now I just need to reel him in at the right time.
As I approached the Emperor’s tent, I saw that everyone had gathered—except for Father.
When I dismounted, the waiting attendants stepped forward to take Alexander and lead him to a rest area with hay.
At the approach of strangers, Alexander flared up.
Whinny—!
The attendants flinched and glanced at me anxiously.
“Alex.”
Snort!
Even with the calm tone, Alexander ignored me. He pawed the ground wildly, his hooves striking hard, mane flying.
Just as it looked like he might bolt, I yanked his reins and pulled him toward me.
“Calm down.”
My voice made him hesitate.
After staring at me for a moment, Alexander gave a snort and quieted. Then he obediently followed the attendants.
‘Like horse, like rider…’
I briefly thought of Meldor Elten, Alexander’s original owner.
Mother had gifted the stallion to him for his 10th birthday.
That year, he had paraded around the entire estate, proudly showing off the horse.
‘…Even though I was the one who asked for a horse as a birthday gift.’
For the record, that same year, I received a ball gown adorned with gemstones.
Not what I wanted—but since it was from Mother, I had smiled and pretended to be happy.
