Chapter 13: The Misunderstanding Revealed

The image of Fine, trapped with him in the rest room at the ball, flashed in Hawk’s mind.

Poised and resolute, she’d pretended to be ensnared while manipulating Banaji.

Not many sheltered noble ladies could pull that off.

“Enough of that—work.

How’s the cavalry horse procurement?”

“The merchant’s bringing them tomorrow.

Sounds like some good ones this time.”

“That’s promising.”

Hawk nodded.

“Why not use this chance to switch out your partner?”

Carl suggested, but Hawk shook his head.

“No, I’m fine.

I won’t have anyone but Sherry by my side.”

“…I see.

You really cherish Sherry, don’t you?”

Carl said thoughtfully.

“She saved my life.

It’s only natural.”

“Right.

Visiting her before dinner?”

“That’s the plan.

It’s endearing how she eats from my hand.”

Hawk had been riding his beloved horse, Sherry, for about five years.

He’d ridden another horse before, but it fell to an enemy arrow in battle.

Then Sherry appeared, gallant and swift.

From the circumstances, she seemed a horse who’d lost her rider in the fight.

Having lost his mount, Hawk instinctively leapt onto her and rode recklessly.

The results were remarkable.

As a mare, Sherry was slender for a warhorse, not especially fast.

Still, Hawk saw her as a goddess of victory and had no intention of replacing her as long as she could run.

Work made time fly.

Before he knew it, dinner time arrived.

Noticing Hawk glance at the wall clock, Carl checked it too.

“Already this late?”

“I’d better go, or I’ll be late to fetch my wife.

Sorry, let’s continue tomorrow.”

“Of course.

See you tomorrow.”

Carl bowed and left.

Hawk tidied his meeting papers, placing them on the desk’s edge.

He headed to the stables to feed Sherry, then returned to his room to wash and change before fetching Fine.

Opening her door, he found her sitting dazed on the sofa.

“Dinner’s ready.

Shall we go?”

Fine looked startled.

“…I’m sorry, I’m too tired and have no appetite—”

She trailed off, turning away.

Her pale profile and wandering gaze suggested unease.

“You do look pale.

Are you unwell?”

She’d seemed fine upon arrival, but now she looked clearly unwell.

Hawk furrowed his brow and touched her forehead.

“No fever.”

“…I’ll be fine with some rest.”

Fine replied, avoiding his eyes.

‘Exhaustion from the journey?’

The three-day carriage ride from the capital was nothing for Hawk, accustomed to harsh battlefields, but it might be taxing for a noble lady.

“Alright.

I’ll have dinner brought to your room.

Rest well.”

“Thank you.”

Fine visibly relaxed at his words.

‘She must be really exhausted to look that relieved.’

Surrounded by rugged soldiers daily, he’d forgotten a noble lady’s stamina.

Leaving her room, Hawk instructed Anna, who’d just arrived, to bring Fine’s meal to her chamber.

“Will you join her, sir?”

“No, we’ll eat separately.”

Hawk shook his head.

He thought his presence might make Fine feel pressured.

“Understood.”

Anna bowed in acknowledgment.

After dinner, Hawk caught Anna clearing the dishes.

“Did she enjoy the meal?”

“Yes.

She said it was delicious and ate everything.”

Anna smiled and nodded.

Relieved, Hawk felt a weight lift.

Rosaider’s dry land made growing plants difficult.

He’d worried a root vegetable-heavy meal might disappoint a capital noble lady, but it seemed unfounded.

‘If she ate it all, her condition’s improving.’

Recalling her pale face, he was glad she seemed better.

‘But maybe we should skip the wedding night.’

Pushing her while she was recovering would do no good.

Still, not visiting his new wife on their first day felt discourteous, so he decided to check on her.

That night, Hawk donned an unusually ornate nightgown prepared by the staff and went to the marital bedroom.

Fine sat delicately on the bed’s edge.

Her slightly sheer nightwear was provocative, the faint glimpse of skin stirring desire.

But Hawk had no intention of touching her that day.

He had no taste for pressing a recovering lady.

He meant to return to his room quickly, but Fine said something unexpected.

“My lord, we haven’t held a wedding ceremony.

But I’d like to make a vow before the omniscient god.”

At first, he didn’t understand.

As Fine said, Rosaider’s warriors performed a ritual called the “Oath,” raising their swords to pledge to their lord with the god as witness.

In battle, where death loomed, they swore their resolve to the divine.

But Fine was no warrior—she was his wife.