◇◇◇ Save Me, God!

“Who was it that said absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

It was the evening of the third day back from the academy’s summer vacation. Baldur found himself sitting on a grand sofa in an equally grandiose room. A large window signified the great wealth of the homeowner, and the furniture that surrounded the seating in the center of the room pushed that point home.

The fair lady to whom the room belonged sat across from him; Lieselotte’s eyebrow twitched upward at his wistful remark.

“When we entered summer break,” Baldur continued, “I had no opportunity to see Miss Fiene. My life was desolate—drained of color, even. I felt like I’d been robbed of something precious. When the thought of her crossed my mind, I was visited by momentary bliss, but that only made it more unbearable to think that she wasn’t there. As I simmered in my loneliness, fondness, and desire to meet her, I realized something. ‘Am I in love with Miss Fiene?’”

“How observant of you. It took you a mere eternity to notice,” Lieselotte said.

Baldur groaned at her biting tone and fell quiet, dejected. However, his cousin’s glare was practically commanding him to speak. Unable to withstand her pressure, he attempted to mount a defense.

“No, see, I’d already been thinking that she was notably cute. But I thought the reason my eyes trailed after her was because of the story that preceded her enrollment, her incredible strength, and my interest in her girlish grace...”

Baldur’s mumbling was met with a cold scoff from Lieselotte. She had every intent to mock him.

“Your ‘interest,’ you say? I haven’t the faintest idea how you managed to get that far without considering that your interest could be romantic.”

“Now that I’ve connected the dots myself, I agree. But you involved yourself with her so much that I was worried for her, and I felt it was my place to shield her from you. When the gods appointed me as her protector, it became natural to be curious about the girl I accompanied.”

“Duty and responsibility. You mean to say these were the concepts you misconstrued your emotion for?”

Baldur nodded awkwardly. Despite his intentions, his actions had clearly crossed the line, seeing as Fiene had easily deduced what true feelings hid under the surface.

He himself had come to realize the truth during the summer break, and he now knew that he was impressively dense. Lieselotte attempted to meet his gaze, but he didn’t have the heart to meet hers.

“Well,” she said, “that may have been the case up until the beginning of summer. Now, you claim to properly comprehend your burning love. Then, pray tell, why have you yet to make a single advance on my adorable little sister?”

So it all comes back to this, Baldur thought with a sigh. This was the topic that the conversation had started with. Earlier in the day, his cousin had summoned him to the main Riefenstahl family’s estate in the capital. Ever since he’d stepped foot in her private room, Lieselotte had been grilling him as to why he hadn’t made a move on Fiene.

“Like I said, I’ve only recently realized how I feel. Besides, it’s only been three days since we returned to school. I can’t just confess to her straight away.”

“I never asked you to go so far. You tickled her ear with all manner of sweet nothings prior to the break, did you not? To begin with, I see no hope for a Riefenstahl to resist that which they love. Before the summer, your actions were befitting of our name, as unplanned as they were. What has you so scared now?”

Baldur scrunched his face up at Lieselotte’s rationale. He planted his cheek on his palm. She was right: Riefenstahls were passionate people with little talent for logic. Once they set their hearts on something, there was no turning back. When honed as loyalty to the crown, this attribute had helped their family climb to the top of their nation.

After recognizing his love, Baldur had thanked the god who’d placed him by Fiene’s side. He’d spent the last few days lovestruck with her adorable exterior, her straightforward personality, her simple way of thinking, and her dignity as a warrior. Now that his prospective engagement had been annulled, it was strange that he wasn’t using the opportunity to press forward.

“But,” Baldur murmured, “if I try to sweet-talk her now, it’ll seem as if I’m pretending to love her to win back my lost position.”

Lieselotte was taken aback. Her eyes opened wide to convey genuine surprise.

“Think about it,” he said. “To tell the truth, I planned to confess my love for her in the near future, but now... How did this happen?! I don’t understand what’s going on!”

Lieselotte looked away, feeling awkward. After all, she’d been the instigator of Baldur’s present unhappy situation.

“I did, in fact, realize that I was in love,” Baldur continued. “And at the same time, I finally figured out that the twins have been right this whole time: I’m not clever enough to go through with a political marriage. That’s why I tried to return the sword to Uncle Bruno, and I had planned to get on my knees to beg the main house to dismiss my inheritance. But when he cried for me to stop, I figured the best plan of action would be to take some more time to do things properly. I was going to convince my parents and younger brother first, and have them help me...” He paused. “I even started working out how I’d make a living after losing my position as a knight, with plans to use my skills as a bodyguard, adventurer, or mercenary. I had all of this planned out, but now...”

Now, Fiene was firmly placed at the head of succession for the marquisate. Every single barrier to Baldur’s courtship had been reduced to dust—all thanks to Lieselotte. What was more, she and her father had broken the news to him in less than ideal wording a few days prior.

Fiene is the rightful heir of House Riefenstahl, and as such, whoever’s hand in marriage she takes will ascend to be the next marquis. Baldur, we removed you from the line of succession, so you must win Fiene’s heart if you wish to regain your lost position!

With a statement like that, who could blame him for thinking that others would suspect him of ulterior motives?

“I admit I feel rather guilty for moving things along without you,” Lieselotte said, somewhat pained.

“I don’t mind that.” Baldur sighed. “Under the circumstances, I think the quick action and public announcement was for the best. I didn’t have any real desire to lead the family, and I understand that Fiene’s safety was at stake. I’m more than happy to make that sacrifice.”

Lieselotte squinted at him apprehensively. For someone “happy to make the sacrifice,” Baldur looked incredibly dissatisfied.

“But the fact that this all happened before I got a chance to confess will make even my most heartfelt plea reek of lies. I don’t care what anyone else might think, but if Miss Fiene doesn’t believe me... What will I do if I lose her trust, to the point that she casts me away even as a mere bodyguard?” He sighed again.

“And so you plan to be more distant than you were before?” Lieselotte asked sharply. “I can’t help but feel as though you’re being stubborn with how unfrank you are.”

“Liese, you are the last person I want to hear that from. There isn’t a single human on this planet who is less frank or more stubborn than you.”

Baldur’s response touched a nerve. Lieselotte snapped, causing her expression and tone to go ice cold.

“Wimp,” she spat.

The insult pierced Baldur’s guard at the perfect angle. He went silent and stared at his feet.

“Why don’t you go grovel on your knees, begging and pleading for Fiene’s hand with tears streaming down your face? I can hardly imagine anyone will think your love is a sham then. At any rate, Fiene feels rather guilty for swiping your position from under you. If nothing else, I’m sure she’ll at least allow a tentative courtship out of guilt.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t want to do that...”

For Baldur, this was not merely a matter of pride. He also didn’t want to take advantage of Fiene’s good will for his own desire. Reminded of this conundrum, he buried his head in his arms.

“Use anything that you can use. Eliminate anyone that stands in your way. I would hope to see at least some semblance of avarice from a Riefenstahl,” Lieselotte said with a thin smile.

However, this was less of a family policy and more of a personal one. Lieselotte truly had done anything and everything it took to retain her position as Prince Siegwald’s fiancée. Yet her unreasonable mantra caused a stray thought to cross Baldur’s mind.

“Now that I think of it,” he said, “I would have never expected you to invite Miss Fiene to become your sister.”

In the spring, Fiene had been a prime target for “elimination,” as Lieselotte had put it. Seeing her as a pitiable victim was originally why Baldur had felt a need to protect her from his own cousin.

Lieselotte took a deep breath and began to explain.

“I will admit that I felt some jealousy over His Highness’s closeness with Fiene. I’ll even admit that a girl who could claim to be his friend as a commoner can be considered my greatest threat now that she is the daughter of a marquis.”

Lieselotte was not speaking to Baldur. Her speech wasn’t directed at anyone—instead, it was as if she was sorting out the thoughts in her head aloud. Suddenly, her downward gaze shifted to look straight ahead.

“However, I am his fiancée. I believe the education I’ve received in preparation, my unceasing efforts, and the love that I’ve slowly built up over the years are second to none. His Highness is a prudent man. I’m...I’m sure he’ll make the correct decision.”

Over the course of her explanation, Lieselotte’s voice only grew meeker and meeker.

“...Don’t cry,” Baldur said, troubled by the tear streaking down his cousin’s face.

“I am not.” Lieselotte used a single finger to wipe away the tear.

“If it’s going to make you cry, then you shouldn’t have suggested the adoption to begin with.”

Lieselotte shook her head. “I can’t allow Fiene to be robbed of any more than she already has. For her to be hurt, go hungry, or feel sad and alone—or worse still, to be killed—is absolutely unforgivable.”

Baldur was struck with admiration for how virtuous his prideful cousin was. Yet this feeling of praise was short-lived, as she quickly turned back at him with a vicious glare. Once again, he balked under the pressure of her gaze.

“As such, Bal, you ought to hurry and grovel on your knees and swear your undying love for Fiene. Take that excessive affection of yours and put it to work shielding her from all that might hurt her.”

“So we’re back to this...”

“I brought it back to this. Regardless of whether you tell her, I wasn’t wrong in my assumption that you are fond of her, was I?” Lieselotte asked, suddenly timid.

Had Baldur not been so infatuated that he was willing to give up his title, everyone involved would have been slated for terrible fates. He figured Lieselotte was worried enough about her decision that she would bother to confirm this point more than a few times.

“It’s the truth,” Baldur said. “I only realized it once we left for summer break, but I am in love with Miss Fiene. Your observation that I exhibited all the signs before then was completely right.”

Relieved by her cousin’s candid answer, Lieselotte let out a small sigh.

“Thank goodness, though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. By the way, Bal? There is one thing I must apologize for.”

“...What is it?” he asked. Rare were the times Baldur had seen Lieselotte smile, and a terrible omen hung over his head.

“For the past three days, you have been walking Fiene to the school’s faculty dorm. Alas, she no longer lives there. I’m so sorry.”

Lieselotte’s smile grew deeper and deeper. The happier she appeared, the more Baldur’s premonition soured.

“She has been packing her things, eating dinner, and saying her goodbyes to all the wonderful staff who’ve taken care of her there. However, she has been spending her nights resting here in this very manor.”

Finally, Baldur put the links together. He was convinced he knew what she meant to say, and he shot to his feet.

“Yesterday, she completed all of the chores involved with moving out—naturally, this means she joined me today in my carriage to come straight home from school without stopping by the dorm.”

Baldur was no longer listening. He was too preoccupied trying to search the room for any foreign presence.

“From tomorrow onward, do give her a ride in your carriage and see that she returns here after school.”

Once she said all that she had wanted to say, Lieselotte stood up to depart the room. But before leaving, her eyes flickered ever so slightly.

“Here?!” Baldur shouted, tearing open the door to a walk-in closet.

Inside, he was awaited by none other than a blushing Fiene.

Baldur was unsure if he was meant to scold himself for his inability to detect her, or if he was to admire how his cunning cousin would go so far as to use him to neutralize a potential romantic rival. Or perhaps the latter point was meant to be met with anger? In the moment that Baldur spent hesitating, Lieselotte slipped out of the room.

There was no going back now.

“I’ll save groveling as the final resort...”

Baldur wore a ghastly expression as he muttered to himself. He took the petrified Fiene’s hand and led her into the center of the room, sitting her down on the couch that Lieselotte had occupied moments prior.

Once the perplexed girl was properly seated, Baldur knelt down in front of her and took a deep breath. He had no idea how he was supposed to profess his love. Instead, he resolved himself to be completely frank, and deliver his sincerest feelings straight from the bottom of his heart.

————

Fiene was very fond of her new older sister—she loved her, even. Not romantically, but she respected Lieselotte so much that she would go so far as to say that the marquis lady was her favorite person in the whole world.

When the two had first met, Fiene had been terrified of her. Lieselotte was the quintessential noblewoman in every conceivable way. A commoner like Fiene had not the family history, grades, appearance, or beauty to match Lieselotte’s perfection, and the thought of speaking to her was already scary. When this exemplary lady had begun to consider Fiene a romantic threat, the only emotion that had run through Fiene was raw terror.

However, in their time together, Fiene had come to notice something: regardless of whatever Lieselotte might say, she gave out goods and advice at every turn. Perhaps, Fiene thought, she’s actually a good person.

When she began to take note of how Siegwald and others close to Lieselotte lovingly watched over her, Fiene finally came to a realization.

Oh. Lady Lieselotte is just a tsun de rais.

Lieselotte was an upstanding person whose only shortcoming was her bashfulness and her propensity for putting on airs. As a result, she had a sharp tongue, but in truth she was incredibly cute.

Whether it was material presents or words of wisdom, Lieselotte shared all that she had without reserve. When she had come to know of her ties of blood to Fiene, she had instantly invited the commoner girl to join her family, all to protect her.

After slowly piling up their memories together, Fiene now had a revised opinion of her new sister. Specifically, she thought, Lieselotte is so cute! I love her! I want to repay her in any way I can!

“Fiene, dear? I have something to ask of you—just a minor trifle that I’d like you to do for me.”

So, when Lieselotte came to Fiene with a request, the girl didn’t even stop to think before she replied.

“Of course! I’ll do anything for you, Lieselotte!”

Lieselotte snickered at how over-enthusiastic Fiene’s response was. Even this little laugh was packed with beauty, grace, and a touch of seduction. Her mannerisms stole Fiene’s breath away.

“Thank you,” Lieselotte said. “But truly, it isn’t anything difficult. All I ask is that you stand here in silence for a short while.”

Fiene didn’t bother responding. Instead, she walked straight into the closet that her sister had referred to. She twirled around to face Lieselotte and huffed out her nose with pride.

Lieselotte promptly began to gently pat Fiene on the head. In turn, Fiene was so utterly blissful that she completely forgot to care about the context behind the strange order.

“Good girl,” Lieselotte said. “Now, Fiene? You mustn’t say a word no matter what happens from here on. No sounds of any kind, in fact. Just stay here, still and silent. Can you do that for me?”

Lieselotte spoke as if guiding along a toddler. Fiene was still swooning and nodded along eagerly.

Me good girl. Me no talk. Me no move. Me stand still. Me can do it!

Fiene’s sparkling eyes were evidence enough of her determination to see the request through. Once Lieselotte confirmed as much, she patted her little sister one last time and shut the door.

————

And so, Fiene had been subjected to an overdose of unfiltered shame.

Lieselotte had expertly manipulated Baldur into passionately declaring his love for Fiene—who had been faithfully obeying her sister’s order. She’d listened to his entire spiel without so much as a peep.

Now, Baldur was mercilessly laying out another assault on her emotions.

“Please, Miss Fiene, believe me. I love you from the bottom of my heart. When I’m away from you, that alone robs the whole world of its color; when I’m with you, that alone makes it beautiful. For the sake of your everlasting smile, I’m absolutely certain I would lay down my life without regret. How can I get you to understand these fiery emotions that threaten to burn my whole body to ashes?”

I swear you’ve never talked this much before! Fiene screamed internally. Baldur’s murderous words left her eyes swimming and her face bright red.

“Wait, hold on, please...”

Fiene could bear this no longer and barely managed to squeeze out a plea for him to stop.

Baldur obediently shut his mouth and peered up at her. His eyes were wavering with uncertainty.

Fiene met his gaze as if she had discovered some kind of alien life-form.

When Baldur had pulled Fiene out of the closet, she’d been faced with a dilemma. Was she meant to apologize for eavesdropping? Maybe she could brute force her way through the situation by pretending that she hadn’t heard anything. As a last resort, she could faint and escape from reality without settling the matter. And yet, all of her confusion and panic amounted to nothing, as he’d begun his Ode to Fiene without so much as giving her a moment to breathe.

Baldur’s rush of sweet words reminded Fiene a lot of the way he sparred. He simply told her, without any embellishment, that he loved her regardless of whatever status accompanied her name.

On the receiving end, Fiene felt like she was going to be killed. The thought that she might literally die of embarrassment genuinely crossed her mind.

“Sir Bal, do you not comprehend the concept of shame? How can you fire off such embarrassing lines one after another like this?”

Despite getting a moment to catch her breath, Fiene’s voice was still extremely weak. Baldur seemed confused at her question and answered with one of his own.

“Now that it’s come to this, I don’t think I have any leeway to be ashamed. I’m nervous, of course, but I guess I’m the type of person that likes having my back to the wall. When you’re cornered with no hope for escape, you tend to abandon the defense for an all-out attack too, don’t you?”

The two of them were both the kind of battle junkies who got a kick out of tight situations. Though in Fiene’s case, this exhilaration was limited to situations of life and death.

Fiene felt like Baldur’s logic wasn’t wrong, but it still felt off to try and apply it to their current predicament. She sat twisting her face in silence.

Then, Baldur clasped her two tiny hands in his own and pulled them to his forehead.

“I beg you, Miss Fiene. This is how desperately I wish for your love. I plead that you might consider placing me by your side.”

“But I...I’m still confused. I don’t hate you or anything, Sir Bal. In fact, if I had to choose, I think...I like you, between the two,” Fiene said, trailing off.

Baldur’s face shot up and his brilliant blue eyes gleamed with hope.

“But! I can’t handle getting married or engaged or anything right now!” Fiene’s panic was obvious from how quickly she spoke. Seeing Baldur nod magnanimously, she asked, “Hey, Sir Bal? Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“All I’m asking is that you believe me when I say I love you. In the future, I would love to date and eventually marry you, but that’s beyond the scope of my current hope.” Baldur was as stoic as ever, and his matter-of-factness took the wind out of Fiene’s sails.

“Now that you mention it...you haven’t said anything about marriage this whole time, have you?”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand. I do want to marry you. My desire for your hand isn’t a half-baked sham. Still, I want to put your feelings above all else.”

“That’s so...ugh!” Fiene groaned, at her wit’s end. Baldur was so ridiculously straightforward that he had practically proposed on the spot.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “That was hasty of me. Uh, I know, would you mind letting me hear what you have to say?”

“Where do I start?” Fiene asked. Her stiff shoulders finally loosened up a bit. “To begin with, I’ve spent my whole life as a commoner, and I’m still a commoner at heart. Marriage is something you do with someone that you love and have gone out with for a few years. Not everyone shares a roof with their partner before that, but weddings are supposed to be the result that comes after a couple is close enough that they think they can live together. Or, at least, that’s how I see it.”

Fiene spoke slowly, thinking before every word. Baldur nodded along seriously.

“That makes sense. There’s no need to throw away your previous line of thinking. Besides, I understand. If my family ordered me to marry any other girl, I would run off into the mountains.” Baldur’s reference to a conversation from days gone by drew a small laugh from Fiene. In an unsteady voice, he continued, “Still, if you don’t dislike me, I’d like to ask your permission to court you with the intent of marriage. Is that...still too much to ask?”

“It’s not the idea of dating you that I don’t like,” Fiene said after a moment of contemplation. “But considering our positions, everyone around us will start thinking that we’re sure to get hitched and become the next Mr. and Mrs. Marquis Riefenstahl. I’m sure the current marquis will celebrate like crazy, and then it’d be nearly impossible to abandon the title or break up, right? And so I’m really worried... Not that I have any plans of breaking up if we go out, but being put on the fast track to becoming the good wife of House Riefenstahl is a bit overwhelming...”

For as long as Fiene rambled on, Baldur sat faithfully listening to her every word. Noticing that he was waiting for her to arrive at a conclusion, her brow furrowed with fret.

Oh, I’m the one that has to decide, aren’t I? Oh no. I don’t want this. Please, someone save me! Someone, anyone! Save me, God!

“Man, I wanna say something.”

“We’re just spectators without Sieg... I wanna comment on stuff! Ughhh, these two are so serious.”

Fiene’s heartfelt prayer was met with the voices of a man and woman.

“Huh? What? Who? Where? Up?” Her eyes darted all over as she tried to find the source of the two voices. Yet no matter where she looked, she could only see herself and Baldur in the room.

“Blessing Bal so we could see him went great,” the man said with a sigh. “But everything since then has been such a wash...”

Fiene was now certain that the voices came from above. She glared at where the sound had emanated from, but all she saw was the ceiling.

“‘Up?’ Miss Fiene, is there something above us?” Baldur asked in bewilderment.

It was at this point that Fiene caught on to the fact that he couldn’t hear the same voices. This realization drained all the color from her face.

“They should just go out already.”

“Right? Worst-case scenario, Fiene asks Art for a favor and joins the Church. And if she sticks with Bal for a Good End, then the two of them get to enjoy a fun life of adventure as a pair of commoners. It’s not like they’re super duper one hundred percent guaranteed to get married and become the next marquis couple.”

The two voices seemed unaware of Baldur and Fiene’s change in demeanor. The strange voices irresponsibly prattled on about the possibilities of their world as if they were gods who knew all that was and would be.

“Wait!” Fiene shouted. “Wait just one second!”

“Huh?”

“What?”

The heavens fell silent.

“Um, do you hear those two voices? The ones that have been talking for a while now? Or...is that just me?”

Can it be? It can’t...can it? Fiene had finally arrived at an improbable—implausible, even—conclusion, and meekly tried to confirm her suspicions with Baldur. He stared back at her blankly and tilted his head.

“Two voices?”

“Oh no. You can’t hear them, Sir Bal? The man and woman? Oh. You really can’t. Are these the ‘Voices of the Gods’ His Highness Prince Siegwald was talking about?”

Fiene was halfway to tears and Baldur could do nothing but listen, still utterly confused. However, there were some at the scene who knew all too well what her soft whispers were referring to.

“Whoa, Fiene’s awakening triggered at a time like this?!”

“Has she awoken to her true powers?! Fiene, if you can hear our voices, give us a little wink!”

The “Play-by-Play Endoe” and “Color Caster Kobayashie” that Siegwald had once told her about were in hysterics. Fiene hesitated, but obeyed their command.

...Wink.

“Wha... That was cute.”

Fiene’s begrudging wink meant for what she assumed to be gods ended up piercing straight through Baldur’s heart. She thought she heard him say something very strange, but the happy man and woman gave her no time to think.

“She can hear us! Hi, I’m Endo on play-by-play!”

“And I’m the color caster, Kobayashi! Don’t bother replying to us—it’s best to listen to what we say and leave it at that!”

“Why would you do something so adorable out of the blue? What could you possibly stand to gain from making me fall for you any more than I already have? What do you want from me? Do you want me to hunt down a dragon for you?”

It’s the gods! Play-by-Play Endoe and Color Caster Kobayashie, just like His Highness said! Fiene now knew whose voices she’d heard, but decided her first priority was to stop Baldur from running wild.

“Stop! Why do you look so on edge?! Are you seriously planning to slay a dragon?! No, stop, you’re not allowed to do anything dangerous!” Fiene managed to shout out in one breath.

Baldur’s knee had begun to rise, but he once again planted it on the floor, and he seemed somewhat disappointed as he looked up at her.

“That’s right, you don’t have time to talk to us right now! Go, go, Fiene!”

“Fiene, Bal has been saying that he doesn’t care about noble titles since the very beginning. If you don’t want to be part of the marquisate, then he’ll be happy to run away with you!”

This gleeful tidbit of analysis shook Fiene to her very core. And yet, these divine words also shone the spotlight on a part of Baldur’s character that gave her a sliver of hope. She gulped and carefully picked her words.

“Sir Bal, let’s pretend—and we’re only pretending, okay? Let’s pretend I said, ‘I like you, but don’t want to lead House Riefenstahl.’ What would you do then?”

“I would take you and flee the country. Fortunately, both of us are skilled in combat. I’m sure we can make a living anywhere, and I swear to you that I will do everything within my power to let you live a life free from trouble.”

Baldur’s unwavering, immediate oath moved Fiene and caused a noticeable thumping in her chest. Yet she still had another question to ask.

“Sir Bal, are you okay with that?” Fiene was. She was more than okay with that. But she didn’t want him to push himself beyond what he was comfortable with.

Her question was asked in a trembling voice, but Baldur nodded as surely as ever.

“I was prepared to abandon the Riefenstahl name from the time I thought you were a commoner,” he said, his expression unchanged. “I’m ready to give up my knighthood, and I have an idea of how we could get by. Of course, I can’t say with confidence that our life would be as luxurious as if we’d stayed here. But if you can’t find this mansion comfortable, then it has no value to me.”

“I don’t care about luxury,” Fiene murmured. “I’m a commoner, remember? But Sir Bal, you’ve grown up as a noble your whole life, and you’d have to throw away your entire family... I just don’t want you to force yourself to do that.”

“I don’t care about luxury either,” he said, chuckling. “I’m a boring man whose sole interest is the blade. For nobility—and especially warrior clans like us—it’s common to be posted far away from home, or to be shipped abroad for marriage. Most importantly, seeing your smile is enough to bring me happiness, Miss Fiene.”

“...I can’t believe you can say these things with a straight face.” The sense of defeat was setting in for Fiene, so she snuck in one last jab.

“That’s how serious I am,” Baldur said. In a moment of what almost seemed like weakness, he added, “Truthfully, I don’t feel like I have the leeway to be embarrassed.”

Fiene slowly exhaled. With a feeble smile, she signaled her surrender.

“I see... Fine then.” Fiene’s smile grew stronger when she saw Baldur tilt his head at her ambiguous statement. Refreshed, she put her feelings into more certain terms. “Let’s put talks of marriage aside. For now, we’ll do no more and no less than...date. Sir Bal, I accept your offer of courtship.”

For whatever reason, when Baldur saw Fiene’s relaxed and cloudless grin, the sober knight finally blushed.