Hopefully, at Your Mercy - Chapter 27

Chapter 14.2

Feeling his pride wounded, Carlot lifted his chin defiantly. Rowton smirked, tapping the sheath of his sword.

“You wouldn’t get the chance. My sword would’ve pierced your heart before you could even finish casting the spell.”

“Not true! Besides, His Highness doesn’t even need your protection. He can handle himself just fine! How many times has High Highness had to save you, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But a noble figure like His Highness should always have a lowborn like me serving him.”

“What? That’s absurd! You’re not a ‘lowborn’! Just reckless, and incredibly lazy!”

Carlot’s face turned beet red as he shouted, so riled up that he threw back his hood in frustration.

Rowton had once been a foreign slave, clawing his way up the ranks and becoming the commander of Iskan’s knights solely through his unmatched swordsmanship.

Carlot, a noble by birth, knew all too well about Rowton’s origins. It was odd how his self-deprecating remarks made Carlot even more aggravated than Rowton himself.

Rowton hopped down from the rock and patted Carlot’s head with exaggerated affection.

“Alright, alright, calm down.”

“Don’t mess with me, you insolent fool!”

“Is this your way of saying you’ve got my back?”

“Stay away!”

Carlot flailed his arms, shoving Rowton aside before darting behind Iskan for cover. Iskan glanced over his shoulder to see Carlot covering behind him, then at Rowton, who continued to tease him.

Without a word, Iskan turned and grabbed Carlot by the hood. Unceremoniously, he tossed him over to Rowton like a sack of potatoes.

“Sort this out between yourselves.”

“Your Highness! How could you leave me to this brute— OW! Don’t bite me! What are you, a dog?!”

Carlot’s protests echoed behind Iskan, who was already walking away, completely ignoring the commotion behind him.

The constant squabbling between his two vassals was just part of his daily routine. Iskan made his way toward the lord’s castle, while Carlot and Rowton trailed behind him, still bickering.

Now that they had inspected the cave, it was time for him to review the contract.

* * *

When Delinda arrived at the lord’s castle, she was greeted with an unexpected sight.

“I heard you were here while on my way back to the capital, so I decided to stop by and see you.”

Someone had been waiting for her. An unexpected surprise.

It was none other than her fiancé, Count Duwell.

Delinda extended her hand, and the count greeted her with a charming smile. He bowed gracefully, brushing a light kiss across the back of her hand.

“Have you been well, Lady Delinda?”

“Yes, and you, my lord? It’s a pleasant surprise to see you here.”

“This region lies along the path to the capital, so I was fortunate. Had I known you were here, I’d have prepared something more splendid for the occasion.”

“No need. You already look quite dashing as you are.”

They exchanged warm smiles, appearing every bit the amicable betrothed couple.

Though Delinda was initially caught off guard, she managed to handle the situation well. Mostly because the man was handsome, and she’d always been weak in the knees for a good-looking face.

In her imagination, Count Duwell had been a tall, lanky man with a mustache. But this man standing in front of her? He was exceptionally handsome, with golden-blond hair that shimmered like the sun, and a radiant, warm smile.

But what truly caught her attention were his crimson eyes.

It wasn’t so much his eyes themselves… but the strange feeling of nostalgia they stirred, like a distant memory she couldn’t quite place.

‘Honestly, I wouldn’t mind marrying him right here and now.’

Up until now, the most handsome man she had met in this world was Iskan, but his intimidating presence made him impossible to consider romantically.

The second most handsome person, though, was this “Count Duwell.” And he just so happened to be her fiancé… What kind of insane luck was that?

Well, she was the daughter of one of the Five Great Ducal Houses. Even with her reputation as a fool, it seemed her family hadn’t skimped on pairing her with someone exceptional.

Possessing this body was turning out to be quite a stroke of luck.

“Did everything go well with your affairs in the Kingdom of Rumeyer? I heard you’ve been very busy.”

Delinda asked, failing to notice that the count had raised his arm, expecting her to take it and link arms as she usually did.

Standing a few steps away, Delinda simply smiled at him. Watching her, the count lowered his arm again.

‘Why isn’t she clinging to me like she usually does?’

Though he found it odd, he masked his confusion with a polite smile.

“I’m honored you remembered which kingdom I visited… I don’t recall you ever taking much interest in my work or my whereabouts.”

…Huh? Now it was Delinda’s turn to be confused.

Wait, hold on.

This manner of speaking, it sounded suspiciously familiar. A gentle smile paired with a subtle jab.

But before Delinda could respond, Rose, her personal maid, answered on her behalf.

“I made sure to inform Lady Delinda of your trip to Rumeyer a few days ago, my lord. Lady Delinda has a tendency to forget things she deems unimportant.”

The words were delivered with perfect deference, but Delinda caught the slight dig.

The implication was clear: Delinda, as Count Duwell’s fiancée, didn’t care much about the affairs of her betrothed.

Delinda’s eyes darted between the two, wearing an intrigued expression.

These two… What exactly are they playing at?