Chapter 41 – What Is a Festival?

Time passed. The sun climbed, radiating warmth. The scenery shifted, the road paved. Luke and Cariel rode side-by-side.

“Ten, even five years ago… this was unimaginable.”

Luke, helmet tucked under his arm, spoke with a proud smile. Below, a vast plain, a sea of purple. Lavender fields, their fragrance carried on the breeze. The wide road, lined with carriages. Buildings and structures dotted the horizon. Artists painting, sheep grazing. A vibrant tapestry of purple under a clear sky, bathed in golden sunlight.

Cariel remembered learning about this place. Seeing it was different.

The Barony of Baronenes, part of the Videmberg Marquisate, once a neglected borderland, now within the Empire’s embrace, ruled by a distant Enjul branch. The Baronenes, once infamous for their treatment of Saint Cariel, had spent centuries atoning, dedicating themselves to the church and their people. Now, respected rulers. They avoided imperial politics, loyal to Videmberg, the model of knightly nobility. Proven during the Demon King’s invasion.

“The war devastated us, but… it ended. Rebuilding, restoring… became the priority.”

Knights weren’t administrators. The current baron wasn’t suited for it.

“Luckily, my brother had a talent for it.”

Not a skilled warrior, overlooked in his youth, but capable in peacetime. The baron, a warrior who valued Saint Cariel’s name, couldn’t accept his son’s lack of martial prowess.

“Still, times of peace… different priorities.”

They descended, the lavender scent intensifying, almost overwhelming.

“So many bees.”

“Our allies.”

The Baronenes, renowned for their honey. Fortunes made on lavender honey.

“The harvest was delayed by rain. Coinciding with Saint Cariel’s feast day. Busy times.”

Workers moved through the fields, the buzzing of bees growing louder.

“Don’t they sting?”

“They’re drunk on the fragrance, like us. Don’t bother them, and they won’t bother you.”

Harmony, even with insects. Benevolence? Composure? Was he overthinking it?

Luke watched him.

“Inspired? This place… it inspires artists.”

“I’m no bard.”

“Being a bard isn’t about labels. Sing, write, play… if you want to.”

“……”

Simple words, yet… profound. Cariel felt a thorn in his heart, a pain he’d normalized, endured. Was it… unnecessary?

A girl, sweat-streaked, smiled as she picked flowers, bathed in sunlight. Bright, vibrant, beautiful. She laughed at the bees, puffing them away. A simple happiness, a contentment Cariel had never known.

They passed the lavender fields, small villages, no walls, no fortifications. Just a single church atop a hill, overlooking the small city. Cariela. The Barony of Baronenes. The sun still high.

“Almost there.”

Luke sighed, relieved.

“Let’s go! Home! I’m buying out the tavern! Drinks all around!”

The soldiers cheered, a joyous roar. Alesia, among them, arm in arm, celebrating. Cariel hesitated.
Should I ignore her?

====

Luke reported to the lord, then herded everyone into the tavern.

“Let me tell you! A ferocious red-eyed wolf monster attacked! This young man was trembling, about to be caught, when young Luelde pulled him back and calmly dispatched the beast! Then, he climbed a bear-like monster, stepping on its knee, grabbing its shoulder, and bam! One slice to the neck!”

A young soldier, mug aloft, recounted the tale. The soldiers roared their approval, joined by the villagers, their gazes fixed on the dark-haired boy in the corner.

“That impressive, huh?”

A bearded man asked. The soldier nodded eagerly.

“Luke hadn’t arrived yet. We would have had casualties.”

Sent ahead to warn the village, he’d been caught in the chaos. This story, his way of repaying Cariel.

“Is that so?”

“……”

Cariel was embarrassed by the attention. Five days since leaving the capital. Three days of hard travel, minimal sleep, plagued by nightmares, headaches, and phantom pains. But the worst… the anxiety. The fear of pursuit. The hope, and fear, of Elhermina’s intervention.

If they truly wanted to capture me…

He wouldn’t be here. But he couldn’t be sure. Not yet.

“Why aren’t you drinking?”

Alesia, mug overflowing with golden liquid, topped it off. She guzzled it down. Armor discarded, she was as… uninhibited as ever.

“Ahhh!”

…Was it
that
good?

“A drink and a nap… the best.”

A flushed man at the next table chimed in.

“No hangovers? Immune? You’re fearless! Manly build! Pretty face… or… cool?”

“I get hangovers! Manly?! Cool’s an insult! Thin arms, thick legs, rock-hard abs, and… these! What am I supposed to do?!”

“Then why drink so much? Celebrating something?”

“Would
you
avoid this because of hangovers? Or does your wife pray for your sobriety? Celebrating? Of course! Right, Luelde?”

“Ha! Touche! Luelde? That dark-haired kid?”

Laughter erupted.

“……”

Cariel sipped his water, watching.

“Just one drink! Come on!”

“I prefer to… stay alert.”

“So stiff! A true knight cadet! Here for the feast day?”

…Not exactly. He’d planned to visit, but hadn’t realized it was the feast day. The village was festive. The feast day had evolved into a full-blown festival.

“Did I say I was a cadet?”

“Swordsmanship like a master, protecting the weak, taking risks. Easy for you, perhaps, but for them… a lifeline. Refusing rewards, acting on honor… that’s rare.”

“Is it?”

He’d helped. Lucky to be there. He’d been suspicious, too.
A trap?
It didn’t matter. Help those in need, deal with deceivers. Simple.

“Tired already? Sun’s still up.”

“……”

“Can’t sleep?”

“Not used to… this place.”

He deflected.

“Sleep with me. I’ll teach you how to sleep soundly.”

She leaned in, flushed, a heated gaze.

“Sleep soundly?”

Was that a skill? He considered it.