It had been nearly two years since Zester had last seen Count Bertol Axios, aside from their brief encounter in Viche. Zester could not contain his delight. Zester couldn’t hide his delight. As he personally guided Bertol to the chamber prepared for him in the castle, Zester was all smiles.
“It’s been some time since I sent my invitation to Axios. You must have been busy.”
“Ah, my apologies. After returning from Viche, I had to visit the South.”
“The South? Ah, Ruberno?”
“Yes. My wife wanted to visit.”
Bertol was a little surprised to see the unguarded smile on Zester’s face. He looked slightly different from the Zester he remembered.
He had anticipated this after their brief meeting in Viche. The Zester he used to know would have just bowed his head, no matter how Viscount Viche backstabbed or tricked him. Yet at the time, Zester’s face had been openly furious, because the Viscount had endangered his wife.
A beautiful woman of noble birth, overflowing with elegance.
It was obvious how Zester, who blindly revered all nobles, would treat his wife from the start. On top of that, Cassia possessed an inexplicable charm that drew people’s attention, even if you ignored her looks or lineage. Wasn’t she the very reason Bertol had come all the way to Greze?
A woman who had turned a crisis into an opportunity, even managing to create a proper army for Greze where there had been none. Bertol wanted to know more about that Cassia.
‘Seeing as she’s turned that quiet stray dog into this, she must be a truly remarkable woman.’
Bertol recalled his first meeting with Zester.
When Bertol first met Zester, he was a mercenary working for pay. The [Jackal] mercenary group he belonged to, was the most famous in the imperial capital Keshetra. It was a gathering of skilled commoner-born mercenaries. They were good, but they were an uncontrollable bunch. The Jackal mercenaries, without exception, harbored a deep-seated hatred for nobles.
Many of them were skilled enough to defeat well-known knights, but they were just as difficult to handle. As the Jackals’ influence grew, many of the capital’s nobles struggled with them.
These ‘capital nobles’ were mostly those who left their territories to their vassals and commuted to the Imperial Palace. Their private soldiers were on their distant lands, and they couldn’t train large armies within the capital, so when they needed manpower, they had no choice but to hire mercenaries. These mercenaries were used for various tasks, from bodyguarding nobles and running errands to suppressing coups within the capital.
However, the Jackal mercenaries clashed with nobles almost daily. They acted as if they had no fear of death, living as if there were no tomorrow. They never bothered with courtesy, especially toward the arrogant nobles who tried to use their status to oppress them. While there might have been a reason for their hatred at first, over time, it evolved into an atmosphere of indiscriminately shunning anyone who was a noble.
The Jackals were a high-quality force, but they were too free-spirited, did not follow orders well, and were too problematic to be incorporated into a formal army where discipline was crucial. That was also why the Jackal mercenaries had been excluded from the forces gathered before the Imperial War.
“…Lord Count ?”
“Ah. I was lost in thought. I was suddenly reminded of my first meeting with you, Baron.”
“Pardon?”
“Is this my room? Let’s continue this inside.”
Bertol walked past the puzzled Zester and entered the room he’d been led to. It was obvious that a great deal of care had gone into the preparations.
Leaning back comfortably in the armchair by the table, Bertol gestured with his chin for Zester to sit. Zester understood immediately and sat down, but he was stiff, clearly pleased but also nervous to be meeting his former superior and comrade-in-arms after so long. Bertol watched him sit ramrod straight and let out a small laugh.
“Is this change in you the influence of your beautiful wife, perhaps?”
“Sorry? Ah… Have I changed? Haha…”
Zester’s cheeks were red as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head. Bertol watched as Zester’s reddish-brown eyes softened, clearly picturing his wife. It was an irritating sight.
“I never knew you to be a man of many words, Baron. In fact, I considered you one of the most frustrating people I knew because of how quiet you were. Hahaha…”
“I’ve been trying to speak more nowadays. My wife tells me she gets lonely easily. She wouldn’t want a curt husband.”
Bertol’s laugh stiffened on his face. He didn’t know what was bothering him so much. He himself couldn’t pinpoint the reason.
Zester, who Bertol figured would be a mercenary his whole life, had caught his eye just before the Imperial War, when the Axios troops were conscripted to the capital. While staying in the capital and assessing the mood, Bertol visited a pub to boost his troops’ morale and ran into the Jackal mercenaries.
A fight was inevitable, as the Jackals hated not only nobles but also the soldiers who swore loyalty to them. The commotion, which would have become a major brawl, quickly died down thanks to Zester. He had recognized the noble Bertol and immediately bowed his head. For some reason, the Jackal mercenaries followed Zester as if he were their leader. Despite their hatred of nobles, they fell silent at his word.
Bertol considered that meeting a godsend. Recruiting Zester was the key to incorporating the Jackals into the Imperial army. The massive, uncontrollable mercenary group ended up becoming the greatest contributor to victory in the war.
Bertol’s influence was a major factor in the Emperor’s decision to grant Zester a title. It was a necessary price to appease the mercenaries, who would have been outraged if their commander hadn’t been given a decent reward. It was a worthless territory and a petty title, but Zester had treated it as the greatest of honors.
‘It was a cost-effective deal, since I got to use him cheaply and easily.’
Bertol chuckled, recalling the time. But his expression soon turned bitter as he licked his bottom lip.
The daughter of Count Ruberno.
Yes, the Greze territory and the ‘Baron’ title were one thing, but she was certainly an excessive reward.
Emperor Simonee XII had originally intended to make her the Lady of Axios. Only, Bertol had declined. Bertol was a man of great ambition, and naturally, he intended to be meticulous in choosing the lady of Axios. If there was no one suitable, he didn’t mind leaving the seat empty forever. At the time, the Count’s daughter did not meet his standards. She came with the title of being a ‘famed beauty’, which he was sure would only stir up trouble.
If only he had known that Cassia Ruberno, who ended up as the wife of a commoner-born mercenary, would be a woman who would pique his interest to this extent…
“I heard something interesting at the Imperial Palace.”
“Something interesting?”
“Yes. You’re starting a business? I heard you applied for a patent.”
“Ah, yes. My wife said she would start a wig business. It’s aimed at the nobility… To be honest, I don’t know much about it. But at dinner, you may speak with her directly.”
“I got the gist of it. I’m not an expert in this area, but it sounds like a very promising business.”
“Ah, is that so? Haha… My wife will be happy to hear that.”
What a waste. Bertol bit his lip. The more he thought, the more he felt it was such a waste for her to be in this situation.
It was clear she was planning to steadily grow this worthless backwater territory. He’d known she was no ordinary woman when they spoke briefly in Viche, but every move Greze had been making was clearly not at a level that could come from Zester’s head.
Really a shame. Bertol knew that a useful ‘asset’ like her would shine much brighter in a place like Axios than in this small, barren, poor territory with no potential.
‘Did God take pity on the stray dog who foolishly bowed his head to nobles and rolled through battlefields with no pride?’
Bertol snorted inwardly.
“Ah, the meal should be ready by now. Shall we head to the dining hall?”
“Already? Yes, let’s. I suppose I’ll get to see the famed Baroness then.”
As he rose, he fixed Zester with a stare.
“I only saw her in passing that one time, but…”
As always, his eyes looked down on Zester, like a master upon a dog.
“…She has lingered in my mind ever since.”
“…What?”
Zester rose a beat late, staring back with uncharacteristic firmness. His lack of avoidance was unexpected. He met Bertol’s gaze directly, as if he needed to hear exactly what he meant by that.
Bertol burst out laughing.
“My, I apologize if you were offended. That sounded misleading, didn’t it? I only meant that the Baroness’s beauty is as great as I’d heard, so she came to mind a few times. I assure you there were no dark intentions, so don’t worry.”
Of course, the part about ‘no dark intentions’ was a lie but… Zester was holding a treasure he never could have obtained with his own abilities so he must be sensitive about it. Bertol saw no point in provoking him needlessly.
“I see.”
Zester’s response was short. His expression, still blank, suggested he wasn’t pleased with that explanation. Bertol noted it. Surprisingly, the man had some pride when it came to his wife.
‘Curious. The dog grovels in all else, but he’s overly sensitive when it comes to his wife. Well, it’s not like I don’t understandly.’
“Let’s get going then.”
The two immediately left the room and headed for the dining hall. They walked in silence. Zester was lost in thought, trying to find the meaning in Bertol’s ‘meaningless’ words, while Bertol was busy glancing at Zester and mocking him inwardly.
By the time they entered the dining hall, the butler Paul, a few servants, and the chef Lucas were already waiting, their faces tense. It was clearly their first time hosting a guest of such high status, and they were all comically stiff.
And amongst the people in the hall, only one person seemed perfectly calm.
“Count Axios.”
Cassia, who had been sitting to one side, leaving the head of the table empty, stood and gave Bertol a small bow.
Bertol’s gaze blatantly stuck to Cassia’s face as she straightened up.
“I was in a hurry last time and couldn’t greet you properly. It is an honor to host you. Allow me introduce myself again. I am Cassia Greze.”
Damn it.
Bertol inwardly swallowed a curse. Too harsh a reaction, perhaps, for the sight of a smiling lady.
Why?
Perhaps because he knew, instantly, that he had been wrong.
Bertol knew exactly what he felt the moment he saw Cassia again.
It was the same emotion he’d felt when he wanted to acquire his vassal Eunice, with her mysterious abilities.
The same emotion he’d felt when he decided to recruit Zester, the leader of the Jackal mercenaries.
Yes, the same strong emotion he felt every time.
He was in trouble. He hadn’t come here with that intention in mind.
He hadn’t expected it to ignite such a vulgar, ignoble desire for another man’s wife.
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