Kyrat approached the doctor, who was just about done with his check-up on Carine. “How is my daughter, Doctor?”

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with Lady Carine, Your Grace,” the doctor said, handing over his written reports to Kyrat. 

“That’s good news. Thank you for your work,” Kyrat said with a smile. “Then I believe we’re safe to go?”

The doctor nodded, his facial expression barely moving. “Of course, Your Grace. It is always a pleasure to serve you.” He bowed deeply before rising up, adjusting his glasses.

Kyrat returned the gesture with a nod as well. Turning his heel, he faced his daughter, Carine, who was staring at them quietly from the clinic’s bed. “Let’s go home, Carine.” 

She nodded before standing up and walking to his side. She was still quiet ever since the attack. He assumed it was due to the lingering shock, but it could also be just her normal self. But Kyrat wouldn’t like to take any chances.

He swore that once they all got home, a nice family dinner would cheer everyone up. 

The door opened with a gentle creak, revealing a number of knights standing at the ready. They wore full equipment in case their powers were ever needed. They stood in a line, guiding him and Carine to the carriage before them.

Both of them climbed inside the carriage and settled in their seats across each other. Carine still looked to be silent, her eyes staring out the window by the carriage door.

Kyrat wondered what she might be thinking. Fear for her own life? Curious about why Raymond did what he did? Or perhaps he was thinking of another particular someone?

But this wasn’t the time to speculate on those things. The important thing was to make sure Carine was safe and sound. Not just physically but mentally as well. Kyrat still remembered the one time someone had tried to assassinate him. 

…

It was in his early days as a general in the army. He didn’t expect to receive such a title that fast, but the war situation with Denta had escalated far too quickly, and Setus was in need of personnel.

He had proven himself to be a capable leader; that much was true. But even he knew this promotion came out of the blue. If that fact were to be mixed with the Sareid family’s reputation, it would garner the ire of a few nobles who saw it as unfair.

And that would turn out to be true.

He was asleep at his tent at the time. It was a peaceful and quiet night where card games were played until the morning. Their primary duty for that day was to guard a supply base stocked with resources bound for Ortensia as aid.

It was unlikely that Denta would attack the base, as it was during the final days of their campaign. Knowing that, Kyrat let his guard down and slept without having guards attend to his tent. He meant well, as he wanted them to enjoy the night with the others.

However, it provided an opportunity for someone to sneak in. Kyrat was fast asleep, probably snoring as he knew his own habits. But, even whilst he dreamt, he sensed something… someone approaching.

When he opened his eyes, a blade was pointed at his chest.

His body acted before he could fully register the attack. He twisted sharply, rolling to the side as the blade sliced through the bedding, barely missing his torso. 

The tent was dark, save for the small glow from a Luminite lantern. He couldn’t get a good look at his attacker, but that didn’t matter, as he was still in the sword’s range.

Kyrat sprang to his feet, his hand darting for the dagger beside the bag he had used as a pillow. A sharp whistle cut through the air as the assassin’s blade aimed straight for his throat. He barely managed to parry, the impact sending a jarring tremor through his arm. The force of it nearly knocked him off balance.

But in that instant, judging from that strike alone, he knew exactly who was standing before him.

“I see… so it’s you,” Kyrat said, his voice calm. “You were one of the best knights. What conspired you to turn against me, Lady Silveid?”

A sudden gust pushed the tent flaps open, bathing the inside in moonlight.

She stood still, illuminated. Her sharp blue eyes glowed like ice under moonlight. Her shoulder-length hair, the same shade as a bright night sky, fluttered gently in the wind. Yet her expression and blade remained unmoving, still raised and sharp.

She didn’t answer his question. Instead, she pressed forward with not a single word. Kyrat raised his dagger.

He could barely keep up. Every strike she dealt was meant to kill him in one strike. He dodged and deflected any strikes he could, but even with his [Spatial Awareness], it was nothing if his body couldn’t keep up with her speed. 

But then he saw it. An opening.

Her movements were elegant, consistent, and swift all at the same time. But she had a tell, something he could only notice thanks to his Talent. She always dipped her shoulders before doing a feint strike.

He let her advance again, feigning a slower reaction. She aimed for his chest, her blade swung in a side arc. But he knew it was a feint, so he positioned himself, and as expected, her blade changed trajectory into a downward arc.

Kyrat sidestepped, dodging the strike easily, before using her own momentum against her and pinned her against the ground, his dagger above her throat. Her piercing blue eyes were locked onto his as she tried to recover but couldn’t.

Her sword fell, cluttering softly onto the tent’s flooring. For the first time ever since she joined his ranks, she spoke.

“End me.”

Her voice was sharp, authoritative, as if even in her own death she would remain in control.

“Who sent you?” Kyrat asked.

There was a pause before she finally answered.

“My father.”

Kyrat scoffed. “Figures…”

He had earned some curious glances every time he attended a war meeting lately. He didn’t expect that it would lead to an assassination attempt, however.

But to send his own daughter out as an assassin, this Count Silveid must be heartless, Kyrat thought. Even if the attempt succeeded, his daughter’s life would be over as soon as she was branded as an assassin.

She was such an exceptional swordsman, someone he had had his eyes on ever since she joined—not just for her swordsmanship but so much more. It would be a terrible waste if things ended for her here.

That was why Kyrat gave her an offer.

“Let me tell you something, Lady Silveid.” He sighed, pulling back his dagger. “If I report you, you die. If I kill you now, you die. Either way, it’s over for you.”

She didn’t answer, her glare still strong.

“That’s why I have another arrangement to propose.” Kyrat cleared his throat before continuing. “Why don’t we just let bygones be bygones?”

“—What?” For the first time, her face flinched. “…Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all!” Kyrat grinned, tucking his dagger back into its sheath. “I’m saying that reporting you is more trouble than it’s worth, and killing you is just a waste. So, let’s forget this ever happened, shall we?”

She pushed herself up, her movements still guarded, as if she expected a trap. “You think I’ll simply walk away?”

“Very much so.” He stretched his arms leisurely. “Or you could stay in my ranks, and I’ll make sure this won’t be a mention to anyone. You’re too good a knight to throw your life away over some old creep’s wounded pride.”

The tent fell into silence. The only sound being the distant cheers of knights immersed in their games and the raging yet calming sound of the wind.

“So, which one will you choose?” Kyrat broke the silence.

Silence stretched between them. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she exhaled and reached for her fallen sword.

“You’re an idiot,” she muttered.

Without another word, she turned her heel and walked out of the tent.

Kyrat didn’t watch her go. He simply sat back down, rubbing his temples as exhaustion finally crept in. He took in some deep breaths to calm his pounding heart. Whether it came from the attack or something else, he didn’t know for sure.

The next morning, when he came out of his tent, the knight known by the name of Reyna Silveid was there, polishing her armor as if nothing happened last night.

And years later, she would take the name Reyna Sareid.

…

Kyrat exhaled, leaning back into the carriage’s seat, the small jolts of the carriage seemingly massaging his back. He glanced at Carine.

She was still staring out the window, lost in her own thoughts. Looking at her sharp, emotionless expression, it reminded him how close she looked to her mother.

Kyrat leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment.

He hoped that the future wouldn’t be harsh on her. And whatever problems should arise, he wanted her to know that both he and Reyna would be by her side, no matter what.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep