MILND 20

“Go to the dining hall and find Sister Dalia. She should have everything ready.”
“Yes, ma’am!”

The children, clearly looking forward to the meal, darted off in perfect unison toward the dining hall. Like the wind, they dashed ahead, and we stood from our seats to follow.

“I’m fine, really. I’m only here as a dispatched guest, I shouldn’t—”
“It’s fine. Just come along.”

Since I usually ate alone in my room, it had been a while since I’d gone down to the dining hall. I had already given Anna notice in advance, so by now, the guests’ meals should be ready too.

“If we go down here—”
“Captain, why exactly did you volunteer for this support mission with Lady Nata?”

Suddenly, from below the stairs, I heard men’s voices.

“What’s that about?”
“You know how Lady Nata looks down on us trainees, right?”

I stopped mid-step on the stairs and glanced at Nata. He looked away awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable.

“I’ve said this before, but that’s just your own inferiority complex.”
“She can say whatever she wants. It’s how we feel that matters.”

Though Derrick’s tone seemed like he was just scolding the trainees, there was a trace of amusement in his voice. Almost as if he agreed with them.

“Isn’t this just jealousy?”
“Captain, I’ve been a trainee for five years now. Do you know what it feels like to watch Lady Nata become a knight in just three years, all thanks to her looks?”
“Maybe it’s because you’re lacking in skill.”
“Captain!”
“Ha ha, just joking. I know your skills well.”

For something supposedly in jest, their conversation was cruel. I tried to subtly tug Nata’s arm to lead him away, but he stood frozen, glaring down the staircase like a stone statue.

“Seduction tactics—I know they work. I even think they’re impressive. But since becoming a knight, she rarely shows up at the training grounds and often skips scheduled sessions. Do you know how we feel having to serve under someone like that with no real skill?”

That’s not what the margrave said…

The margrave had told me Nata lacked sparring partners but had impeccable skills. I’d trust his judgment over a mere trainee.

So they don’t acknowledge him because they’ve never seen him fight… or maybe even if they did, they wouldn’t accept it.

As if frustrated by the false accusations, Nata murmured quietly,
“I’ve just… been training at dawn.”

So he’s been training secretly not to interfere with others.

“Ha ha, yeah, we’ve heard. Even among us, there’s talk about Lady Nata’s… skills.”

That Derrick guy is something else.

Instead of defending a fellow knight, he was piling on the ridicule.

“But what can we do? Is anyone among us good-looking enough to be sent to the duke’s estate? Everyone has their own strengths. That’s why the commander’s decision was sound. We handle the physical work, and she escorts the madam. That’s effective.”
“Some people get to work easy jobs like that… Was that why we were called in? Just to do the heavy lifting?”
“What can I say? The soldiers are doing joint training. We need available hands. And with you guys here, things run smoother for me too. Coordination is important. I’ll buy you a drink afterward, so cheer up.”
“Well, if you put it that way, Captain…”

There were so many points I could’ve interrupted.

Calling Nata “she” as if purposefully distancing him, implying his job was to escort me without my asking, and subtly painting him as incompetent.

He’s quite the political operator, isn’t he?

He flattered the trainees while undermining Nata, all under the guise of being a generous superior. This wasn’t the first time someone used tactics like this—just like when I defended the stablehand.

“Come now, let’s get moving. The duke’s estate probably serves great lunch.”

Derrick’s voice gradually faded into the distance.

Once there was no sign of anyone below, I grabbed Nata’s arm.

He had his head down, and I spoke to him sharply.
“Sir Nata, lift your head.”
“…Yes.”

I worried he might be crying, but thankfully there were no tears. His beautiful face wore a cold expression, masking his dulled eyes.

I’ve never experienced the humiliation of having my skills belittled. In my foolish youth, I might’ve been just like those men.

But even without firsthand experience, I’m not cold-blooded enough to ignore the emotions of the boy in front of me.

“Win the martial arts tournament. No matter what.”
“…Madam.”
“There aren’t many ways to overcome baseless slander.”

There was a faster, harsher method.

Expose them, prove your skills in front of everyone, and crush their pride. But unfortunately, such methods come with consequences.

No world is kind to whistleblowers.

Even if they hear Nata out for now, in the end, society will shun someone who stands out too much.

It’s a shitty reality.

This is why group dynamics are so uncomfortable. The minority victim always gets pushed aside in the name of “harmony.”

So there’s only one choice left: overpower them with undeniable talent.

“Show them skills so real no one can deny you. With your face hidden and your identity secret in the tournament, they won’t be able to brush it off.”
“If I win… do you think I’ll be able to prove myself?”
“We’ll see.”

Even if he proves himself, they won’t offer sincere apologies. They might act impressed in public, but gossip behind his back.

“But they won’t be able to deny you.”

So what if they hate you? They can’t erase your victory. No matter the insults, results speak the truth.

“Trust me. Your skills won’t betray you.”

And outstanding skill always brings its own reward. I patted Nata’s shoulder and smiled.

“So hold your head high and draw your sword. If they refuse to see your swordsmanship, then grab their faces and make them look.”
“…!”
“If you’re a knight—a swordsman—then prove it with your sword. I’ll give you the stage.”

On the day of the celebration, the margrave’s troops would be both honored and humiliated.

At my prophetic words, Nata nodded with resolve.
“Yes, ma’am!”

Teitan Isonon, the Margrave of the Borderlands, was keeping a close eye on Wilhelmina.

At first, it was because of a favor from a young man who had once been in his debt. But upon meeting her, he found her much more intriguing than expected.

When he first heard she had skipped his celebration to look after a baron’s daughter, he thought it was a convenient excuse.

He assumed she had been forced to attend due to pressure from her ruined noble family.

But when he saw her in person, he knew immediately she wasn’t the type to make such petty lies.

She radiates presence.

To the margrave, Wilhelmina did not appear as a fallen noblewoman sold off into marriage, but as the grand madam of House Rayton.

Confidence, dignity, elegance—she lacked nothing required of a duchess.

Even when face-to-face with him, she showed none of the nervousness or caution typical of young noblewomen. Instead, she carried herself like the garden belonged to her.

To the margrave, who placed great importance on a person’s aura and bearing, she was quite favorable.

I hear she gets along well with the staff, too.

He had done some background checks of his own. While there weren’t many spies posted in the duchy, the rumors he heard from the looser-lipped servants were all favorable.

They were more reliable and direct than the scandalous rumors circulating high society.

So when he heard she was planning the soldiers’ celebration, he couldn’t help but look forward to it.

A bit eccentric, maybe, but perhaps she’ll put together something fun.

Sure enough, she came up with a “Masked Martial Arts Tournament”—something he’d never heard of before.

It was the perfect event for knights who enjoyed duels and offered entertainment for all.

Most of all, the condition of hiding one’s identity was appealing.

In a military organization rigid with rank, many hesitated to participate in matches. This tournament could break down that barrier.

Of course, I’ll have to make sure it doesn’t turn into a full-blown mutiny… But it’s a good chance to wake up the veterans who’ve grown complacent from constant victories.

Finally, the day of the celebration arrived. Greeted with the duchy’s full hospitality, the margrave arrived at the garden where the arena had been set up.

“Greetings to the Duchess.”
“Welcome.”

Wilhelmina greeted him with the staff in tow. When the margrave raised his hand, the knights participating in the celebration saluted in unison.

“I hope I’m not too early.”
“Not at all. The food will be ready shortly. Those who aren’t participating, please proceed to your seats.”