Chương 83: “A Loyal Dog Doesn't Need a Collar”

Life was all about transactions. The ones who claimed to act out of pure selflessness were either lying, or had simply not yet found the price point at which their loyalty would waver. This was the foundation she had built everything on. Every relationship in this world rested on a clear exchange: services rendered for compensation provided, protection offered for obedience given. Paimon's devotion was paid for in food, shelter, and a sense of belonging she had never been offered anywhere else.

Martha's competence was bought with coin and the dignity of the Reingarde name. The slaves' obedience had been purchased with a future they could not have bought for themselves. Even the merchants who came to her door brought something they could trade for. A noble by title, a merchant in practice; that was who she was.

That was why, when she had wavered once in her adulthood, when she had finally let herself trust another person, when she had let herself believe, just one time, that something could be exchanged for nothing—"You should see the world a bit more. You might learn something new." She was lying on her back, phone tilted above her face, scrolling through the third update of a webnovel she was following.

It was still early in the evening, and the laptop screen halfway across the room was currently showing an article with her face on it.

"Hm?" She did not look up.

"Where's this coming from?"

"Look at this." There was a soft chuckle.

"Your reputation's in shambles, they don't know how hard you've worked."

"What do I care about what some troll online thinks about me?"

"But still… It would do you good to join a few volunteer programs overseas. Get out of the city. Get out of yourself, even."

"Hah." She swiped to the next chapter.

"Join some glorified tax shelter where they spend more than eighty percent of the budget lining their own pockets? I'd rather donate to a vending machine. At least then someone gets a snack." He laughed as he scrolled down the article. She lowered the phone and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Then she rolled over, picked up the other phone on the nightstand, and tapped a contact. Ring. Ring. Click.

"Yes, boss?"

"Draft some proposals for me by tomorrow. I want the company to start a volunteer outreach initiative. Focus on poverty-stricken countries. I want it on my desk before nine tomorrow. And run a finance check on the partners while you're at it. I'm not putting my name on anything with a leak in the budget chain."

"Understood." She hung up.

"You sure about it?" he asked, still not looking up.

"Didn't you just tell me to get out?"

"Mm." She set the phone down and picked up her other one, back to the webnovel. For a moment she read. But… Who knew that the suggestion had just been part of an elaborate plan? That he had only wanted her out of the country so he could make moves without being suspected? And when she had finally found out the truth, she had— —Who? Celestia blinked.

'Who was I thinking about?' The thought had been there just now.

'I was thinking about…' Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. But who? The harder she tried to pull the memory back, the further it slid away. Her chest hurt. An ache behind her ribs without a clear source. Her body remembered something that her mind no longer could.

'Why does it hurt?' She had no answer. Jade was still kneeling in front of her. The sword was still extended across his palms, blade flat, edges catching the lamplight. He had not moved. Celestia opened her mouth.

"I refuse." * Jade raised his head. He had prepared himself for rejection. He had partially rehearsed it on the walk from the feast hall to this office: the polite decline, perhaps even a reprimand for overstepping his station. He was a commoner, and she was a duke's daughter. His hands still smelled of the ale he had drunk to build his courage. The gap between them was wide enough that his offer of fealty could be taken as presumption rather than honor. The idea of it, anyways.

It was more the alcohol doing the thinking, rather than what he knew of Celestia personally. However, what he had not been ready for was the look on her face. Celestia's crimson eyes were fixed on him, and in them he could see several things at once. There was steel and composure; but beneath both of those… was pain. Jade's hands went rigid on the blade. He did not understand. He had worked for this woman for months now.

He had watched her wake before dawn and work past midnight, train with the spear until her palms bled and then train again the next morning without complaint. She was headstrong. Dominant. Willful. She worked harder than anyone he had ever trained, noble or otherwise. And beneath that… beneath the sharp tongue and the way she snapped orders, she cared about the people around her, though she would never have admitted it. So why did his pledge of loyalty put that look on her face?

He tried to search for an answer there. But her eyes were not looking at him. They were looking through him, somewhere he could not follow. Ah. He had seen that look before. On soldiers who had lost someone they trusted in the field. On men who flinched when you offered them a hand. She was not angry at his loyalty. She was afraid of it.

"Leave." Her voice was icy and sharp. The warmth that had been there during the feast, the woman who had raised a glass and said a few words to her people, was gone. Jade sheathed his sword. He stood. He bowed once, low and formal, then he turned toward the door. His hand found the handle. He pulled it open, stepped through, and closed it behind him. The hallway was empty. The oil lamps along the walls had been dimmed for the evening. He stood there for a moment with his back against the closed door.

His chest felt tight, and though he felt like he knew the reason, the facts of the matter had not changed; he had offered the only thing he owned that was worth offering, and she had turned it away. He slid down until he was sitting on the floor, his back still pressed flat against the wooden door. His legs stretched out in front of him, his sword resting across his thighs. He could hear the cleanup from here. The clatter of plates being stacked. The low murmur of maids talking. A chair scraping against stone.

The feast had ended, the slaves were resting, and the office-room behind him was silent. Jade tipped his head back against the door and stared at the ceiling. Celestia von Reingarde was still a child. She was sharper than half the officers he had served under, and more disciplined than most. But she was still a scared girl, afraid of human connections. People who kept everyone at arm's length. He had seen what happened to them when they stayed that way, too. Jade chuckled. The sound was quiet in the empty hallway.

He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head.

"Attachment is not something you can will yourself to avoid, my lady," he said to no one.

"Just because you don't want to have it, doesn't mean it stops coming." He sat there for a while longer. The sounds of the cleanup grew quieter as the maids finished their work. Footsteps passed the corridor multiple times, and thankfully, nobody turned towards this direction. His wife would be wondering why he was going to be late. He should have been heading home by now. He would have to apologize to her tomorrow. For now, he did not want anyone else to see his liege's face. So he stayed and guarded the door.

The next day, they pretended like nothing had happened. Celestia arrived at the training grounds at the usual time. She was dressed for practice, her hair tied back, her spear in hand. Jade was already there, warming up with a wooden sword. She greeted him the way she always did, a short nod and a curt "begin." Throughout the entire morning session, none of them mentioned what had happened the previous night. But it was fine, Jade was patient. And though Celestia may not have accepted his vow, did that even matter?

To accept the eccentricities of one's master was the most basic aspect a knight should have. Slowly, and eventually… Once she opened up her walls. Though it may take years. He was willing to wait. To ask her again. After all, a knight's loyalty knows no bounds.