Chapter 9: The Blacksmiths’ Village (2)

　Trying not to become emotional, I briefly explained what had happened.

“Goodness… A visiting merchant told us about the Holy Knight and the Saint, but I had no idea there was such a story behind it. So much for the Goddess’s blessing! It’s appalling.”

　Barbara frowned and sighed.

　Dolph stared into the distance, his troubled expression thoughtful.

　Gilbert, meanwhile, suddenly became dejected.

“I’m sorry, Flora. It was careless of me to ask that way.”

“No, there’s no point hiding it. Besides, it’s only natural that he would be drawn to the Saint who supported him at his side rather than to a useless wife who merely prayed from a place of safety…”

　Saying it aloud was bitter and self-deprecating, but it was also true. Perhaps I was too pessimistic, but I preferred to explain it myself rather than have a stranger repeat it as gossip.

“…During long campaigns, a shameful number of people do become unfaithful. But no matter how glorious their achievements are, those achievements don’t excuse the betrayal.”

　After speaking calmly, Gilbert looked directly into my eyes and continued.

“Besides, you want the people you cherish to remain somewhere safe. Most knights take up their swords precisely to protect others. And having someone pray constantly for your safety should be the highest honor a knight could ask for. You did nothing wrong.”

　His firm declaration brought tears to my eyes.

　Then Gilbert looked toward the ceiling and exhaled regretfully.

“If I were still serving, I would have knocked some sense into him before matters went that far…”

　—He isn’t an active knight?

　When he saw my surprise, Gilbert gave me a wry smile.

“About two years ago, my dominant arm was injured on the battlefield. Treatment came too late, and I could no longer wield a sword, so I retired.”

　He was still young, and his physique clearly showed that he continued to train, so he hardly looked retired. I could only imagine how painful it must have been for a knight to lose the ability to wield a sword.

　Gilbert showed no shadow of that pain, however, and continued as though it were nothing.

“I can no longer use a sword as a knight, but that doesn’t mean I’m entirely helpless in a fight. I’ve been doing a little mercenary work. Recently, though, a former commanding officer who was like a mentor to me went off to fight an extremely reckless battle. I wanted to help him despite my condition, so I came here to ask Old Man Dolph for assistance.”

　Dolph, who had remained silent, twitched an eyebrow and sighed uneasily.

“Gilbert, being unable to use a sword doesn’t mean you can simply switch to an axe. It isn’t that easy.”

　Gilbert made a clownish face and grinned as though trying to evade the subject. Then his expression became serious again as he turned toward me.

“I heard about the Holy Knight’s wife from that man. He said he prioritized the war, looked the other way, and ultimately made an innocent woman miserable. His position keeps him from coming here to apologize so easily… No, perhaps hearing this from me only makes you uncomfortable.”

　I shook my head.

　When I imagined the battlefield where they faced those terrifying undead beasts, I understood that noble ideals alone couldn’t have resolved everything. Perhaps, during my days in the royal capital, I had also already resigned myself to what would happen.

“I no longer have any resentment left for anyone.”

　That was all I said.

　Now, if anything—

　Gilbert’s assurance that I had done nothing wrong seemed to loosen the heaviest and most painful chain within me.

　Barbara came to my side, drew me into an embrace, and stroked my head.

“So you came to see us because you were leaving the royal capital, didn’t you, Flora?”

　After a brief pause, Dolph asked the question in a gentle voice.

“…Yes. Although our marriage has ended, I can’t pretend all the precious memories of our past never happened.”

　The days were now distant memories, but throughout them, the sword Mr. Dolph had made was always at Elliot’s side.

　Dolph understood the gratitude behind my words. He smiled gently and nodded.

“Flora, if you aren’t in a hurry, would you make duck soup for dinner for the first time in years?”

“That’s a great idea!”

　Barbara and Dolph both looked at me expectantly. A little surprised, I nodded without hesitation.

　Perhaps I had been bound for so long by the claim that prayer was all I could do and tormented by helplessness. Being needed made me extraordinarily happy and excited. It had been a very long time since I felt that way.

“Oh, I get to try the famous duck soup!”

　Even Gilbert’s eyes shone behind them.

　Then Dolph’s expression abruptly hardened, and he turned toward Gilbert.

“That reminds me, Gilbert. You said something earlier that I can’t ignore.”

　Gilbert’s eyes darted about uneasily.

“I let it pass earlier because Flora was present… You told me you wanted the axe repaired because you planned to take up woodcutting alongside your mercenary work. So what was that about going to the battlefield in your condition?”

　Gilbert opened and closed his mouth helplessly, then shrank like a scolded child.

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