That was real. No. That can't be. Was it all a lie? It must have been. It can't be true.
But if it were true, does that mean he actually loves me? How? When? I don't understand. It has to be false.
No. You couldn't make a face like that if it were a lie. Smiling so defenselessly, watching so carefully, that mix of grief and joy, how could all of that be performance?
But if those feelings were real, why is he engaged? No, it must be a tactic.
He's showing warmth, lowering my guard, trying to confirm whether I'm the demon of the cursed sword. Whoever he truly loves must be his fiancée.
Really? Was every one of those moments just an act?
Echinacea Roaz, did you actually think that wasn't a lie? What were you expecting? He remembers dying because of you.
'What was I expecting? Why do I feel like this?'
Her mind was a tangled mess. Echi buried her face in her pillow and forced herself toward sleep.
* * *
That night she dreamt of an endless labyrinth. A single strand of light stretched ahead, tracing a path. Pure, bright, beautiful light.
But Echi couldn't bring herself to trust it.
Where are you trying to take me? How am I supposed to believe you? Where do you even want to go?
The light didn't answer. So she stood still and ignored it.
The labyrinth was empty except for her, dark and cold. The thread of light circled her feet, lingering.
* * *
The next morning, the official squire appointment ceremony was held.
It wasn't a grand affair. Simply a personal oath, officiated by a priest dispatched from the Azenka Grand Temple. The lord and squire swore their vows. That was all.
The ceremony took place in one of the chapels inside the Grand Temple. No observers were permitted, only the lord, the squire, and the priest.
So Baraha waited outside, leaning against a roadside tree near the chapel.
Echinacea Roaz arrived wearing red.
A deep, dark red dress adorned with lace and ribbons, so dark it was nearly black. A hint of white petticoat showed at the hem. Her gloves were russet silk. Her jewelry, necklace, bracelet, earrings - was silver set with tiny rubies, matching pieces.
A narrow-brimmed hat draped with a sheer veil. Silver filigree embellishments woven into the ribbon adorning it.
Soft pink hair cascaded from beneath the hat, falling in curls. The face beneath it was expressionless.
Baraha approached and called her name.
"Echi."
At the sound, her blank look faded, replaced by a faint smile. Baraha, watching the subtle curve of her lips, felt his focus catch on it longer than it should have.
"Senior Baraha, what brings you here?"
"What else? I came to see your appointment ceremony."
"Observers aren't allowed inside."
"True. But it doesn't matter, I wanted to see you."
He shrugged. Echi didn't quite follow the logic, but she didn't argue. Her body still hadn't fully recovered, and even standing was tiring, which left her with little energy for anything more.
Especially for thinking about Yurien, who was waiting inside the chapel.
The thought of him was like a thorn pressed against something tender.
His fiancée. She was supposed to arrive today.
She had tried not to think about it, but it surfaced anyway. She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to reason with herself.
There was nothing personal between her and Yurien. Whether he got engaged or married was none of her concern.
That was the logical conclusion. Her emotions refused to cooperate. Her mood kept sinking.
"Are you feeling unwell?"
Baraha noticed how still she was and asked. Echi shook her head quickly.
"No. I was just lost in thought. I should go in."
"Alright. Good luck. I'll wait outside."
"…You'll wait?"
"It's the day you officially become my junior squire. Of course we're celebrating. Were you planning to eat in the communal hall on a day like this? I know a good place."
Under ordinary circumstances, his kindness would have been tempting.
But not today. She just wanted to get through this ceremony and shut herself in her room. The strange dream had kept her half-awake all night.
She shook her head apologetically.
"I'm sorry. Let's go another time. I'm too tired today."
"…Hmm. Excuse me a moment."
Baraha tilted his head slightly, then stepped closer. He pulled her arm toward him and slipped his hand under the sheer veil.
Echi stiffened, but didn't pull away. She already guessed his intention.
A large hand pressed against her forehead. His brow furrowed.
"You have a fever."
"It's nothing."
"Tsk. Finish the ceremony quickly and go lie down."
He released her arm and gave her a gentle push toward the chapel entrance.
He didn't notice when I had a fever and spent days grooming horses in the stable but he figures it out instantly today? Is it that obvious?
She clicked her tongue inwardly, gave him a small bow, and reluctantly stepped inside.
* * *
The chapel was silent.
At the front stood a statue of God flanked by two angels with swords.
No one had ever dared to carve or paint God's face, so the statue was draped in layers of fabric, its form obscured, gazing downward, faceless and genderless.
A priest stood beneath it, placing the sacred scripture on the podium and unfolding the oath. The gold embroidery on his white robe marked him as a high-ranking clergyman, likely a direct subordinate of the High Priest.
Yurien stood to the left of the podium.
Light from the stained glass above fell across his hair.
As Echi entered, he turned to look at her. The distance made it difficult to read his expression.
She walked toward him slowly. His gaze never left her.
Step by step, the details of his face came clearer. Composed, yet somehow as unreadable as the faceless statue behind him.
She reached the right side of the podium and gathered her dress hem, bending her knees in a formal greeting.
"It is an honor to stand before you, Commander."
"Cadet Echinacea."
He said her name and then went quiet.
His blue eyes moved over her face, as though memorizing it. Then, after a brief pause, he spoke again, almost in a whisper.
"…I had hoped you wouldn't push yourself. The appointment ceremony could have been postponed."
He wasn't expecting an answer. He turned toward the priest.
"Proceed quickly."
"Pardon?"
"Begin."
"Ah! Yes."
Echi looked down.
So he had noticed, after all. Just like before, he could tell at a glance.
She pressed her lips together to keep herself from blurting something out. If she let her guard drop, she might ask, how did you know? And worse: are you truly going through with the engagement?
The priest began reciting the solemn preamble. Chivalry. The mindset of a squire. The virtues of a lord. A squire follows with unwavering loyalty; a lord guides with full dedication. The same predictable words.
Throughout the recitation, Echi kept her eyes averted. Yurien's gaze stayed on her.
"…Swear upon it. Echinacea Roaz, will you follow your lord with unwavering faith and embody the virtues of a knight?"
"…Yes."
She had been somewhere else, and answered a beat late. The priest turned to Yurien.
"Sir Yurien de Harden Kyrie, will you devote your knowledge and experience to guiding your squire on the path of knighthood?"
"Yes."
"With this, I declare Echinacea Roaz the squire of Sir Yurien de Harden Kyrie. This oath holds until death or ascension. May 19th, 1629, in Ar Sebatiem."
Here, ascension referred to the squire naturally ceasing to be one upon becoming a knight. Death encompassed not only literal death but also laying down one's sword, through retirement or renouncing knighthood altogether.
The priest handed each of them a quill and a copy of the oath. They signed, exchanged copies, and added their names to the other's.
Now each held a document bearing both their signatures.
With that, Echinacea had officially become Yurien's squire, a bond that would hold until she received her knighthood, or until one of them put down their sword.
The priest gathered the scripture and writing materials and left.
Echi folded her copy and tucked it away. Across from her, Yurien was looking down at his own, expression distant.
Seeing that look, the words came before she could stop them.
"Commander, my lord, I heard you're getting engaged."
Yurien looked up. That unreadable expression again. I want to know what he's thinking. I'll go mad if I don't.
An inexplicable surge of anger moved through her. Echi kept her voice flat.
"Congratulations."
"…You."
Yurien blinked slowly, then spoke in a subdued tone.
"You said before that you wanted to become a knight because you wished to be happy."
"Yes."
"Does that happiness mean a peaceful life?"
"What?"
The question was opaque. Echi frowned instinctively. Yurien pressed his hand to his face, and when he spoke again, his voice through his palm was hoarse.
"If... if there was something you wanted, would you be willing to sacrifice your peace for it? To accept being caught in chaos?"
Still impossible to grasp. Echi looked up at him, blankly, and he quickly added: "It's purely hypothetical. Just... a thought."
"…I would never choose to sacrifice my peace."
She cut in with her answer.
Did her happiness lie in a peaceful life? Of course it did.
For nine years she had gathered Giosa for the sake of everyone she loved being able to keep living. She had thrown everything into that purpose.
So her answer was clear.
"You asked whether my happiness means a peaceful life. Yes, it does. My happiness is living quietly with my family, the people I care for, those around me. Rather than make a choice that puts them in danger, I would let go of what I want."
The fever in her body had stripped away hesitation. Only honesty remained.
As her words continued, something in Yurien's expression crumbled.
He closed his eyes slowly. Opened them. His lips, which had been slightly parted, pressed shut, as if he were swallowing something back.
Then his face went still.
"I understand, Echinacea. Return and rest for now. Your squire duties begin in three days. If you need more time to recover, let me know."
"Thank you, my lord."
Yurien was the first to leave.
Echi watched his retreating white figure for a moment before walking out after him.
In the now-empty chapel, only the faceless statue of God remained.