Chapter 92
“W-what are you—hic—doing? Put me down!”
“It’s fine. You can cry.”
He patted her back absently, then glanced over his shoulder. A sharp nod summoned Merrick, who hurried forward to take the reins of his horse.
“Why are you—sob—like this? Let me go!”
“You’ll fall.”
Valen loosened his grip just enough to make her gasp and cling to him. He adjusted his hold, pressing an approving kiss to her temple as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. The merged shadow of the two stretched long behind them before the knights finally dared to breathe again.
“What about His Highness’s escort?” Edan asked.
Merrick handed off the reins to a soldier and shook his head.
“No additional orders were given. We hold position.”
“Yeah. His Highness won’t want us anywhere near them right now.”
Giorno swung down from his horse with a grunt, tossing the reins to the same soldier who’d taken Merrick’s. Take mine too. He slumped against a tree, stretching his legs.
“If the Imperial Knights had been with us, I’d have won the betting pool.”
“Pointless chatter,” Merrick muttered.
Giorno flicked a glance at Edan, then trailed off with a vague, “Just saying.” Edan, face unreadable, simply tilted his head back and drank.
A heavy silence settled. Giorno’s mind wandered to the vice-captain’s ashen face as they departed. Overnight, the man had aged a decade.
They still didn’t know the full extent of the losses. The scouts’ reports painted chaos—infected swarming like stirred hornets, half-burned buildings, knights found already turned. No time to react, no chance to regroup.
A doomed mission from the start. The stretchers slowed them, and with both hands occupied, their reactions were sluggish. The captain’s miscalculation. Maybe grief clouded his judgment after losing his men. Or maybe he’d underestimated the infected. Giorno leaned toward the latter.
One oddity stuck out: the “annihilation” of Edan’s squad. More plausible that Edan had used magic to knock them out, then beheaded the marquis himself. Giorno would stake his name on it being a covert order. Not that he’d question it—some things were above his pay grade.
“First time I’ve seen His Highness so… unsettled,” ventured Roycen, a fresh-faced knight who’d inched closer.
The veterans didn’t disagree. Though they hadn’t caught the conversation, they’d all witnessed their lord’s uncharacteristic fussing over his distraught lover. Even Merrick, usually unmoved by displays of affection, had seemed startled today.
“Well. If the young lady cried like that, even I’d have caved,” Roycen added, nodding to himself.
The older knights’ heads swiveled toward him in unison.
“Ah, right. You’re her subordinate, aren’t you?”
Giorno clapped his hands together with exaggerated flair.
“Yes, precisely!”
“Were you personally acquainted with the young lady?”
“Acquainted? Hardly. I was too tongue-tied to even string two words together in her presence.”
“Hmm, is that so?”
“But she was legendary.”
“Legendary, you say?”
“Don’t even get me started. Banquets, festivals—if Lady Roseline was attending, people stampeded to sign up.”
“Oh? And you?”
“Of course I did.”
Roycen remained cheerfully oblivious, while Giorno wondered, How the hell did this one end up in the Duchy?
Had he joined at the encampment, it’d make sense. But even the densest recruit should’ve pieced something together after all they’d seen and heard since leaving the stronghold. Roycen’s naivety bordered on absurdity. Giorno sighed, at a loss for where to even begin—until Merrick nudged his boot.
“Watching you is like seeing my own past. Nostalgic, really.”
Merrick smirked and turned away. A clear reference to that day—when Giorno had nearly lost his eyes for staring too long at Roseline. Edan, who remembered it just as well, gave Giorno’s shoulder a good luck with that pat before brushing off and standing.
“Tell me, what do you think is the most crucial mindset for serving His Highness?” Giorno crossed his arms, leaning against the tree.
“Loyalty!” Roycen chirped.
“That’s a given.”
“Then… what?”
“Treat the young lady like a rock.”
“Huh?”
“Never answer her questions.”
“Wha—?”
“And avoid speaking to her whenever possible.”
“But why?”
Roycen tilted his head, baffled. Giorno sighed again. How did this blockhead end up here?
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