MHHC Chapter 47

Rest

"Has the motion sickness improved at all?"

Klaus pressed his horse close to the open carriage window, his voice carrying that unfailing cheer.

While she was reduced to exhaustion by the mere act of traveling in the carriage, the knights seemed to overflow with more vitality each day since leaving the castle, as though escaping those walls had been their deepest wish.

She nodded in response.

"Today is somewhat better. Margaret still suffers, though. Where are we now, exactly?"

"We'll arrive in Tulle soon. It's a small village clinging to the edge of Schleicher Territory, but the inn there—you won't find its equal in all of Bitzleben. Spotless, yes, but more than that, the chef's cooking is exceptional."

He smacked his lips appreciatively as he spoke, that easy camaraderie flowing from him like water.

She'd witnessed his enthusiastic consumption of trout before—enough to know he didn't merely appreciate good food. He worshipped it.

Had his activity level dropped even slightly, that lean frame would have been impossible to maintain.

Adelheid asked with mild curiosity, "Is the inn's cuisine truly that remarkable?"

"Yes. They use herbs grown on the premises, so everything's worthwhile, but the venison stew in particular has earned its reputation. Pair it with freshly baked bread and it's absolutely divine. Since fate has given you this opportunity, I highly recommend trying it."

"I'm quite looking forward to it. But how do you know it so well?"

"Head northwest past this village and you reach Northofen. The battlefield where we were stuck for years."

Ah. That's why. Her curiosity satisfied, she smiled faintly. Klaus grinned back and added, "Even back then, whenever we passed through, we'd fill our bellies good and proper. Anyway, we'll finally get a decent meal. After days of gnawing dried rations, every drop of fat's been wrung from my stomach."

"Klaus."

A golden-haired knight drew his horse alongside theirs, inserting himself into the conversation.

"Don't behave rudely toward Her Grace."

Knight Joachim. The handsome man with golden hair and pale blue eyes seemed plucked from a storybook—a prince stepped whole from its pages.

Thanks to this, he was immensely popular with the maids regardless of age, to the point where even Adelheid remembered his name.

When their eyes met, Joachim bowed his head stiffly in greeting.

As always, Adelheid received the impression that Joachim did not particularly welcome her presence.

Was it a misunderstanding born from his sparse expressions and minimal speech?

She hastened to speak. "I'm perfectly fine. I didn't feel it was rude in the slightest."

"Klaus. Please exercise caution."

Joachim repeated his warning to Klaus alone, as though her words hadn't reached his ears at all, then spurred his horse quickly back toward the head of their procession.

Klaus scratched the back of his head awkwardly at Joachim's blunt manner—more embarrassed than she was.

Noticing her expression had stiffened, he swiftly offered comfort.

"He's always been one for rules and principles, so don't think too deeply about it, Your Grace."

"Thank you for your concern."

"Then I'll visit again shortly."

Once Klaus too had moved toward the front of the column, tedious silence reclaimed the carriage's interior.

Margaret remained asleep throughout, felled by motion sickness—hardly an ideal conversation partner. And practicing magic proved impossible with so many watchful eyes constantly breaking her concentration.

The village that had seemed close proved far more distant than she'd imagined.

Only after the midday sun had completely vanished behind the mountain ridges did they finally reach Tulle.

The hour was closer to midnight than evening.

"This is terrible."

Though they'd arrived in the village, no signal to disembark came. They'd been waiting for quite some time.

Margaret, who'd gone to investigate the situation, returned to the carriage with a frown creasing her features. Adelheid pulled her shawl higher and asked, "Has some problem arisen?"

"The inn doesn't have sufficient rooms, apparently. Ordinarily there would have been enough for everyone, but knights escorting the Lord of Lingen have already claimed most of the rooms. Seems they also plan to use the Talia Road from here to the capital."

"How many rooms are lacking?"

"Only two or three available, from what I gather. And even that's uncertain."

"Oh."

"Everything else would be manageable, but your safety and His Grace's worry me most. We may need to skip this village entirely."

Adelheid swallowed her disappointment and nodded.

They couldn't stay at an inn unable to accommodate even the minimum guard force necessary to protect them.

Especially not one crawling with another lord's knights.

Is there truly no alternative? She was pondering this when sharp rapping on the window made her head jerk up.

"Adelheid."

Valentin. Her husband's face—the first she'd seen since leaving Ansgar territory—appeared sunken with deep fatigue.

Adelheid hesitated briefly before opening the window wide.

"What is it?"

"Get out of the carriage first. Margaret. Would you give us a moment alone?"

His manner of commanding Margaret now carried the dignity befitting a northern lord.

Though his pronunciation remained slightly imprecise, his bearing was essentially flawless in attitude alone.

Since they'd appointed no etiquette tutor, he must have successfully resurrected the Grand Duke of Ansgar's memories he'd consumed.

Margaret nodded and descended from the carriage. She didn't immediately disappear but lingered, hesitating, then added, "Her Grace has a delicate constitution. She'll be far more exhausted than Your Grace."

Margaret, who'd grown increasingly attached to Adelheid recently, had obliquely requested that he please not be overly demanding, as Her Grace was tired.

Adelheid's cheeks flushed at Margaret's meddling as she asked again, "Has something serious happened?"

"No. I just came to tell you we won't be able to rest in this village."

"If it's that sort of message, you could have sent a servant or attendant."

"I thought you'd be disappointed."

He smiled crookedly in the darkness. His golden eyes, catching the soft light spilling from the inn, gleamed magnificently.

Adelheid deliberately turned her gaze from his face and said, "Actually, Margaret already told me. That the inn lacks sufficient rooms. Do you plan to depart for the next village immediately?"

"It seems we must. But they say we can have a meal, so I've rented a room where you can rest while the soldiers eat."

"A room?"

"Bath water will be prepared, so go up, wash, and rest even briefly. We'll depart again in three hours."

Bath water!

Adelheid let out a small cry of delight. The jolting forest road had left her entire body aching, and three days without washing had made her skin feel unbearably sticky.

Moreover, once night fell the temperature plummeted—even wrapped in shawls and blankets, she couldn't fully drive away the chill.

She grasped Valentin's offered hand gladly and descended from the carriage.

"I'll have food sent up as well. Follow that attendant."

"It's an honor to serve you, Grand Duchess. This way."

At Valentin's gesture, a woman standing behind him bowed gracefully.

Adelheid followed the attendant into the inn. True to Klaus's boast, the inn was large for the village's size and appeared relatively well-maintained.

It thrived on the geographical advantage of being positioned at the Talia Road's starting point.

Soldiers and knights were already seated freely around the round tables, eating venison stew.

Though the magnificent aroma made her stomach gurgle, bathing took absolute priority.

"The threshold is high. Please be careful."

Following the candlelit attendant's guidance into the room, she found clean new clothes, towels, and bath water from which hazy steam rose in delicate clouds already prepared.

"Shall I assist with your bath? If you'd prefer, I can summon the maid who accompanied you."

"I'm fine. I can manage alone."

At Adelheid's words, the attendant's face drained of color.

Being addressed politely by the Grand Duchess of Ansgar apparently shocked and bewildered her.

The attendant seemed to debate whether she should cautiously point out this breach of protocol, then pressed her lips firmly shut and hurried from the room. She appeared terrified of giving any excuse for complaint.

The moment she closed the door, Adelheid hurriedly stripped off her clothes and slipped into the water.

"Ahh..."

Where the hot water touched her chilled skin, it stung unbearably at first.

But soon her stiffly frozen body began to melt, loosening as drowsiness washed over her in waves.

She thoroughly warmed herself, then used generously lathered soap to meticulously wash her hair and entire body.

She emerged from the tub in a state of happiness, her cheeks flushed scarlet.

After drying herself completely with the towel and just finishing dressing in the clean new clothes, a knock sounded at the door.

Probably the meal Valentin had promised to send up.

"Come in."

Adelheid turned toward the opening door while drying her hair with the towel.

However, what entered the room was neither the attendant nor Margaret. It was Valentin.

Adelheid froze stiffly in surprise and bewilderment, merely blinking.

"......"

Though she was fully clothed, she felt as embarrassed as if he'd caught her in some intimate state.

Was it the hazy steam still filling the room? But he paid no heed to her confusion, striding across the room to set the tray he'd brought on the table.

"How do you feel?"