Dear, Come With Me

Irene’s eyes scanned over the group standing behind Helink as she received the letter, before she glanced down and began to unfold the parchment. Her grip tightened and scrunched up the parchment, as she shouted, “What’s the meaning of this?!” What was written on the parchment made Irene’s amethyst-like eyes glisten and tremble. She was a disciplined person who’d locked away her emotions as she walked on the path of knighthood. Her composure had never faltered, that is, until today.

“The Empire must’ve realized that Voltern couldn’t be easily penetrated,” Helink began.

“If so, then… What were the people in the royal capital doing?”

“The imperial army launched an assault by sea, penetrating the northeastern region where the defenses were weakest. The advance on the royal capital happened almost instantaneously…”

“Excuses! The mainland’s armed forces are several times that of Voltern’s!”

Irene repeatedly read the short sentence that announced the end of the war—or to be specific, the kingdom’s surrender. No matter how much she willed it, the words remained unchanged.

“We tried to resist, but… His Majesty r-r….” Helink struggled to finish his sentence. He couldn’t bring himself to reveal that His Majesty had abandoned his position and ran away.

Averting her gaze from Helink, Irene glared at the mark printed on the now crumpled parchment—the imperial emblem printed as golden embroidery on a red flag. An overwhelming sense of defeat that she’d never felt before enveloped her.

“Darn it. Are you telling me to accept this? It wasn’t even three months! And even the negotiations are complete?”

“I am truly sorry.”

“With the north wind blowing, how was it that the Empire was able to hit the center of our kingdom in just two and a half months?”

The men who stood before Irene were unable to give her any answers. They waited in muted silence as Irene struggled to quash the resurgence of remnant emotions that she thought she’d discarded long ago. “We lost. An utter defeat.” Her voice was barely a whisper, though only Clad seemed to catch the words that she’d spat out. While Irene sounded calm, the heavy sigh at the end of her words belied her misery.

“And now, the third prince has— No, pardon me. This is the order of our new King, His Majesty.”

Irene caught the intense gazes of her subordinates, who were waiting for her order. It felt suffocating. Lowering herself to take a knee, Irene observed chivalric etiquette and replied, “I, Irene M. Voltern, follow the orders of His Majesty, the king.”

“By declaration of His Majesty, Irene M. Voltern is hereby ordered to renounce her title and depart for Perkan…”

“What nonsense is this?” Clad fiercely interjected. It was apparent that this was news to him.

“Clad!” Irene warned.

“It may not be in so many words, but isn’t His Majesty essentially sending her as a hostage!”

“Enough! I haven’t said anything,” Irene scolded.

“But you’ve dedicated so much! If this isn’t abandonment by the kingdom, then what is it?”

Clad spoke the truth. Irene had to admit it—all this time, she’d obeyed the ridiculous command to defend her country. She’d given her best and risked her life to fulfill her duty as a knight and complete her mission, only to receive an absurd decree at the end of it all.

‘But when have I ever had the time to be emotional?’ All Irene had ever focused on was following orders and living up to them. Amid the swamp of vanity and vapidness that aimed to entrap her, Irene lived in a manner befitting of a knight, and would continue to do so until her final moments as a knight. When she opened her eyes after squeezing them shut tightly, her gaze was steady. “Complete your duty as a knight. Now, shut up and kneel,” she ordered.

Clad silently seethed as he closed his eyes, which burned with rage, and clenched his jaw.

“I hereby order Irene M. Voltern to renounce her title and depart for Perkan. Your actions henceforth will represent the kingdom. Consider the commands of the empire as my own and honor it.”

“I will obey the king’s will.”