Chapter 7: The Monster of The Berhi Castle (7)

　　He dropped to one knee before the sisters, placed his right hand over his heart, and spoke with the utmost gravity.

　　“I will make a knight’s oath.”

　　Brillin and Astina exchanged a bewildered look.

　　“Your Highness!” Mikhail and Dorius cried out in dismay.

　　But Hafen remained steadfast. A knight’s oath was a pledge of loyalty, not something an imperial prince could make to anyone but the Emperor. Hafen had never even sworn such an oath to his father or the Crown Prince. I will protect you with my life. I will never betray you. In return, grant me a path to live. Mikhail and Dorius understood what their lord was begging for. Swallowing hard, they knelt behind him.

　　The sudden gravity of the situation silenced Theo. He knew what a knight’s oath signified: a sacred pledge of honor, a bond of life and death. It was not something a royal could offer to a mere noble, let alone two whose titles were currently unrecognized. He came here looking for a place to die, he’d said. Whatever his story, his desperation was real.

　　This absurdly solemn display at the castle entrance was too much for Astina. Looking down at the three kneeling men, she burst out laughing.

　　She jabbed a thumb at Hafen.

　　“Brillin, I think he’s gone mad.”

　　“Grrr, grr. Grraah.”

　　“A prince? He’s either a madman or a con artist.”

　　At her merciless assessment, Hafen looked up. He hadn’t expected gratitude, but this was a bit much. Before he could protest, Astina pointed a finger first at him, then at Theo.

　　“He,” she said, indicating Hafen, “says he will protect us from him. If that’s not the talk of a madman, what is?”

　　Her inquiry was genuine. Brillin looked from Hafen to Theo and back again, at a loss for what to say. As she scratched her cheek with a claw, Hafen finally realized that his grand, life-risking oath was, to these sisters, utter nonsense. Who was he to protect anyone? He couldn’t even protect himself. If Astina had truly meant to harm him yesterday, he might not have lived to see the morning. And if Brillin decided to tear him apart with those claws, he’d surely end up like the firewood.

　　While Brillin gently chided Astina for her disrespect, Astina lamented that if this man were truly a prince, the empire was surely doomed. Mortified and with nothing left to say, Hafen rose and dusted off his knees. His eyes met Theo’s, who was peeking out from behind the sisters, clucking his tongue with a look of profound pity. Annoyed, Hafen pushed the feeling aside. He had no time for a squabble with a mage. The sisters, having concluded he was insane, were preparing to leave.

　　Laying his pride bare, Hafen made one last, desperate appeal.

　　“Help me.”

　　Brillin, who had been checking Astina’s shoes, turned her head. Hafen met her ominous red eyes and bowed his head.

　　“Please.”

　　“Grrr. Grrr.”

　　Hafen couldn’t understand her, so he looked to Astina, who offered her own translation of Brillin’s polite refusal.

　　“No. Go home.”

　　“I’m not just asking for your help. I will help you in return.”

　　“You crazy—”

　　“Grrr, grraah.”

　　Brillin tapped Astina’s shoulder, shaking her head before her sister could finish the insult. Pouting, Astina relayed the question.

　　“How could you possibly help us?”

　　“You haven’t been formally recognized as the Countess, have you? I can secure your title. The fact that a Countess must chop her own firewood, and a lady must pull her own cart, means you have no one to serve you. I will help you reclaim everything you are owed.”

　　Desperation laced Hafen’s voice, but the sisters remained silent. His face grew pleading.

　　“You haven’t been able to manage your lands, have you? You can’t possibly know the state of the Berhi territory. Soon, the Emperor’s army will come to swallow it whole. Countess, let me help you protect it.”

　　Astina looked up at Brillin, who was still quiet, her gleaming red eyes fixed on Hafen. He met her chilling gaze without flinching. Anxious, Astina clutched her sister’s robe. She didn’t know what Brillin was thinking.

　　“We don’t need any of that,” she said, her voice trembling.

　　The imperial army didn’t scare her; she could just chase them away. All she needed was Brillin. Nothing else mattered.

　　That was how she felt. But what about Brillin? If not for that day, she would have been the Countess, their father’s heir. It was all Astina’s fault. She had never learned about managing a territory, but Brillin had been trained to be the future ruler of these lands. Did she miss what she had lost? Astina could never bring herself to ask.

　　She tried to hide her trembling fear behind a brave front, her small hand still clutching her sister’s robe.

　　Brillin finally looked away from Hafen and down at Astina. She knew what her sister was thinking. No matter how many times she told her it wasn’t her fault, the guilt remained. For Brillin, too, Astina was all that mattered. Without her little sister, there was nothing to prove she had ever been human. That last, fragile tie to the world was precious, and the fear of losing it was immense. She had sometimes wished it was just the two of them against the world.

　　But that couldn’t be.

　　She looked up at the pale, unkempt castle, already draped in gloomy shadows. They couldn’t live like this forever. She couldn’t let Astina waste her life here, trapped, caring for a monster.

　　“Grraaaah.”

　　Brillin heaved a long sigh. Hafen swallowed hard, unable to tell if it was a sigh of regret or a warning growl.

　　Then, her booming voice cut through the tense air.

　　“Grrr!”

　　Everyone flinched at the roar, but then she nodded. There was no mistaking it. That was a yes. Hafen’s face brightened.

　　“Brillin?” Astina looked up, her golden eyes shimmering with uncertainty.

　　Brillin chuckled, seeing Astina’s white-knuckled grip on her robe. Gently stroking her sister’s head, she scooped her up into her arms. Astina settled naturally against her as Brillin spoke.

　　“Grrr, grraaaaaah. Grrr.” It’s okay, Tina. Let’s accept their help. We can’t let the House of Berhi fall, can we?, she conveyed.

　　She used the family name as an excuse; the title meant little to her now, but she knew Astina would object if she said it was for her sake.

　　The family she had long since given up on meant little to Astina either, but if her sister wanted it back, she would do anything to help. She couldn’t stand in the way of Brillin reclaiming what she had broken. Biting her lip, Astina nodded.

　　“If it makes you happy, Brillin, then I’m happy, too.”

　　“Grrr, grrr?”

　　“Alright. If they treat you well, I’ll… be good.”

　　“Grrr.”

　　Pleased by the praise, Astina nuzzled her cheek against Brillin’s. The fur was soft and clean from her daily, meticulous brushing. Humming happily, Brillin offered the cart to Theo. But Hafen intercepted it.

　　“I’ll take it!”

　　“Hmph.”

　　With a grunt that clearly meant suit yourself, Brillin turned and started down the path. Theo clucked his tongue at the overeager prince, while Mikhail and Dorius trailed behind, sighing.

　　Holding Astina, Brillin walked down the mountain path where the snow had begun to melt. She glanced back. The air was filled with the boisterous sounds of Hafen and Theo bickering, punctuated by Mikhail’s attempts to mediate. Over her sister’s shoulder, Astina watched them and shook her head. Though she grumbled about how pathetic they were, Brillin knew her sister was happy.

　　The road to the village had always been so quiet, a long, silent walk weighed down by their mutual guilt. Now, there were others walking with them. The voices of outsiders had entered their small, isolated world.

　　When all this snow melts, Brillin thought, perhaps the spring will bring new beginnings with it. In high spirits, she began to hum a happy tune.

　　And so, the precarious cohabitation of these six souls began, each with their own secret plans and discreet desires.