Hero – Part 12
In the end, the skirmish was left unresolved, thanks to Cecily and Luke’s intervention. A few days later, the Imperial Federation announced its formation to the continent, as if nothing had happened. In line with this, representatives from each nation were to gather in the Independent Trade City to hold a provisional Tri-Nation-One-City Summit, now rebranded as the Bi-Nation-One-City Summit, also known as the Valbanill Conference.
Discussions for this Militant Nation visit were temporarily suspended. After receiving treatment, Cecily and her companions set for the city as soon as possible so they could make it in time for the conference.
The day of departure was warm and sunny.
At the main gate of the third wall in the capital of the Militant Nation, Zenobia and the girls gathered early in the morning to bid them farewell, just as they had seen Charlotte and her attendants off in the Independent Trade City during the summer.
“I wish you could stay.”
It was unheard-of for a ruler to see off rural knights at the main gate, but since Charlotte, Doris, Margot, and Penelope didn’t seem bothered, it didn’t seem too out of place in the Militant Nation. After all, Zenobia was the Girl King.
“Miss Cecily,” Zenobia said. “We are truly grateful to you. We owe you a debt of gratitude. I swear here that the Militant Nation will fully cooperate with the Independent Trade City. We will also do our best to fulfill your request regarding the abandonment of the Demon Pact. So please, continue to be my friend.”
“Of course,” Cecily said, shaking Zenobia’s hand firmly.
“You’ve helped us twice now, Cecily,” Charlotte said. “I’ll repay this debt, even if it takes the rest of my life.”
“You’ve really improved,” Doris added. “I have to keep up.”
“I can’t let myself fall behind either,” Margot chimed in.
“Neither can I,” Penelope said.
“Stop saying that while staring at my chest!”
Cecily caught Lisa muttering, “M-Me too.”
Luke had already climbed onto the carriage, ready to drive them back.
Harvey, looking exhausted, was speaking with Arvie. Cecily realized this journey had really taken a toll on him. Arvie gave Harvey’s shoulder a comforting pat.
Lisa, talking to Penelope with a smile, looked unwell, possibly dreading the long ride back in the carriage.
Aria stood nearby, looking around before pouting.
“That wuss. Can’t even see us off, huh?”
Cecily wasn’t sure what she meant by that. She turned to Zenobia once more.
“Please be careful. The Imperial Federation—especially Siegfried—is dangerous.”
“I know,” Zenobia replied. “The blacksmith provided us with forging techniques, and we won’t let him have his way. I will visit the Independent Trade City later. I will be seeing you then.”
“Of course.”
With that, Cecily and the others left the Militant Nation. The journey home would be long.
“I must take my leave now.”
After they were gone, Zenobia returned to the castle, where her advisor, Ewen Benjamin, was waiting. Behind him sat a bulging backpack, clearly filled with his belongings.
He prostrated himself before the Girl King. “Your Majesty has kept me by her side to never forget the sins of the Lanchester family. By making me the symbol of your mistake, you used me as a constant reminder to yourself.”
Zenobia was silent. No, taken aback. She’d heard these words before.
“I will never forgive you.”
That’s why she had kept him close. Even if indirectly, she and her family committed a grave sin. She had made him her advisor to ensure the past would never be forgotten.
“But I can’t move on this way.”
Who could have imagined it would come to this? Had anyone ever foreseen that the young man, who had once been consumed by deep hatred, would now long for a way to move forward?
Zenobia secretly felt both powerless and jealous of whatever—or whoever—had changed him so much.
Ewen looked up at his employer. “Please, let me go,” he said. “There’s someone I need to see.”
As a man.
The seeds Cecily’s group had planted were beginning to take root.
Epilogue
Not long after leaving the capital of the Militant Nation, Cecily drifted into thought, reflecting on everything that had transpired.
The long carriage ride, the battle with Hilda Cavendish and her subsequent defeat, meeting the Girl King Zenobia, reuniting with Charlotte and the girls, the tense discussions in the Militant Nation, uncovering the truth behind her father’s death, the formation of the Imperial Federation, and the brutal battle alongside Luke. So much had happened. There were still questions lingering in her mind. What happened to Hilda? What were Siegfried’s true intentions? And what role did the Campbell family play in all of this?
“The Sacred Sword’s Sheath, huh?” she muttered softly, closing her eyes. There were so many problems still ahead.
But she decided to set them aside for now. She’d have to face them eventually, whether she was ready or not. For now, though, she decided to ignore them.
Looking back, Cecily realized she hadn’t really had a chance to explore the capital. And come to think of it, wearing that dress was a rare experience she might never get again. At least it made for a good story. Her mother, Lucy, always insisted on dressing her up in such clothes, so she’d surely be frustrated if she found out she missed seeing Cecily in a dress.
As Cecily let her thoughts wander, her eyes suddenly widened.
Wait a second. Luke’s never seen me in a dress!
It wasn’t exactly a world-shattering revelation, but once the thought hit her, it wouldn’t leave. It lingered, nagging at her, and she couldn’t help but feel it was such a missed opportunity. She might never wear such an outfit ever again. If only Luke had seen it.
No, wait. Wait. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Cecily Campbell!
She quickly shook her head and glanced around the carriage.
Aria and Lisa were in the back seat. Aria was sulking, staring out the window, while Lisa, looking sickly pale, was staring down at her lap. Harvey was riding alone.
And right in front of Cecily, at the driver’s seat, sat Luke, casually holding the reins.
“…”
Cecily stared at his back, her thoughts racing.
“Because you laid your hands on the one woman you should have never touched.”
Was she reading too much into it?
“H-Hey, Luke.”
“Hmm?” Luke replied, keeping his eyes ahead.
“Well…”
Cecily hesitated. She really wanted to ask. She needed to know the meaning behind those words. If they held the answer she hoped for, it could change everything.
To me, Luke is…
“Hey, what’s up?” Luke called.
“Huh?”
“What do you mean ‘huh’? You just called me.”
Luke glanced over his shoulder at her. Their faces were so close now that if Luke turned his head just a little more, they would nearly collide. He was way too close. So close, in fact, that Cecily thought her nose would bleed.
“Wait, your nose is bleeding!”
And it did. Cecily immediately tilted her head back, pressing a hand to her neck. What was wrong with her? Was she some kind of deviant?
“Are you all right? You should lie down until the bleeding stops.”
Somehow, the way Luke spoke so gently made Cecily feel like crying.
“Luke.”
“What is it? Just lie down already.”
“I wore a dress.”
“Huh?” Luke turned back toward her again.
To avoid getting too close this time, Cecily leaned against the edge of the carriage.
“Margot and the girls got it for me. I wore it the whole time I was in the Militant Nation. You wouldn’t know since you never saw it, but—”
“I did see it.”
Cecily’s nose started bleeding again.
“You dropped by the workshop once, remember?”
“Y-You saw me?”
She couldn’t believe it. If he’d noticed, why didn’t he say anything? But then again, the timing probably wasn’t right.
“I want to hear your honest opinion!” Cecily leaned forward, not caring how close they were now. She didn’t mind the blood trickling down her nose either. “Wh-What did you think?!”
“Coming in strong, are we?”
“Just answer the question1”
Maybe it was the sight of her blood-covered face, but Luke frowned and shrank back.
“It was love…”
“Love?!”
“Well, you know what they say: Clothes make the man, or the woman, for that matter.”
Cecily wasn’t buying it.
“You just said ‘love!’ Finish what you were going to say. What was it? Is the next syllable ‘ly’?! Go on, let me hear it!”
“Calm down. You heard me wrong. Maybe your ears are rotting.”
“What’s rotting is your mouth!”
Why do things always turn out like this between us? Cecily wondered, still bleeding from her nose.
“Ah!” Aria suddenly exclaimed. “Luke! Stop the carriage! Quick!”
“Ouch, don’t hit me! I’m still not fully healed.”
When the carriage finally stopped, Aria leaped out and ran toward the back. Squinting, Cecily noticed a horse galloping toward them from the main gate of the Militant Nation. Her partner was prancing toward it.
“What’s going on with Aria?”
“I don’t know.” Luke shrugged, propping his elbow on his knee. Staring off into the distance, he mumbled, “So… you’re not going to wear one again?”
“Huh?”
“A dress. You’ll never wear one again?”
Cecily’s breath caught in her throat.
“Do you want to see it?” Her face flushed.
Luke’s right eye flickered toward her, and he smiled softly.
“I do.”
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