Chapter 8
A week later.
The Southern Navy’s secret base. Hidden cleverly between sheer cliffs, its entrance led into a vast underground space, massive enough to rival the outer fortress itself.
Splash. Splash.
One by one, the enormous warships that had silently entered dropped anchor.
“Disembark.”
At Michalis’s command, issued from the prow of the flagship where he stood tall, the standard-bearer sprang into action.
“You’ve all done well.”
Once the entire force had formed ranks, Michalis ascended the platform and addressed his men.
“To all soldiers who participated in this training, I hereby grant a special two-day leave.”
His voice, amplified through the magical device in his hand, echoed loud and clear as if spoken through a megaphone.
“This concludes the irregular naval training.”
“Yes, Your Excellency!”
The knights and soldiers standing in perfect formation beneath the towering ships responded in unison.
“Dismissed.”
“Hurrah—!”
Leaving behind the thunderous cheers of his troops, Michalis immediately turned and strode away. The past week had passed in the blink of an eye.
Under the pretext of precision shooting drills, he had unleashed indiscriminate bombardment, completely obliterating a large rock formation until no trace remained. The deafening roar of cannon fire had been more than enough to drown out the noise in his mind—those lingering, pointless thoughts.
“You’ve returned, Your Excellency.”
Having received word of his arrival in advance, Iadis was already waiting to greet him.
“What’s the current status?”
“Yes, I’ll begin the report.”
With a stack of documents in hand, Iadis walked alongside Michalis, delivering a detailed briefing on military affairs.
“First, regarding repairs to the western castle wall: completion rate stands at 80%, with 95% of the allocated budget spent. Payments for materials and labor have been settled. No plans for budget adjustments.”
…
…
…
The distance from the underground base to the inner fortress passed quickly.
“Next, maintenance of the lifeboats. Eight lifeboats have been deemed in need of repairs due to aging. They’ve been transferred to the shipyard for servicing.”
“What’s going on there?”
While walking at a brisk pace, listening to the backlog of reports that had piled up over the past week, Michalis came to a sudden stop.
“Pardon?”
Startled, Iadis halted abruptly and looked up from the papers in his hands.
“Over there.”
Michalis, wearing an unreadable expression, pointed at an unexpected scene.
“…Ah.”
Following the direction of Michalis’s hand, Iadis gasped, breath caught in his throat.
It was the Second Banquet Hall—rarely used under normal circumstances. The wedding reception was to be held in the First Banquet Hall, so this space should have remained quiet. And yet, an astonishing sight unfolded before them.
“Unbelievable…”
Though he himself had arranged for the use of the venue, Iadis had not anticipated this. No immediate explanation came to mind.
“What are those?”
Michalis narrowed his eyes and asked again.
Outside the building, dozens of trainee squires in uniform clung to the windows like cicadas on tree bark, clustered tightly together, their eyes peering inside.
“It seems Lady Acklera is practicing her dance.”
Iadis, eyes briefly squeezed shut as though to rid himself of the unpleasant sight, gave a strained answer.
“Dance practice?”
“For the opening dance at the reception.”
At Iadis’s words, Michalis recalled a part of the wedding itinerary that had long since faded from his thoughts.
‘I completely forgot.’
It was customary for the bride and groom to open the banquet with a first dance after the ceremony. Having shut himself off from any involvement in wedding preparations, he had utterly dismissed such details.
“Lady Acklera expressed concern, so I arranged for her to have space to rehearse.”
“Clear them out.”
At Michalis’s curt order, his brows furrowed in clear displeasure, Iadis responded at once.
“Yes, sir!”
It was the order he had been waiting for. With a crisp reply, Iadis rushed toward the window in haste.
“……”
Michalis watched the trainee squires scatter like cockroaches exposed to light. Then, as if drawn by something, he found himself walking toward the Second Banquet Hall.
Tap.
He stopped at the entrance, where the lilting notes of a waltz floated softly into the air.
As Michalis took in the scene inside, he found himself understanding—at least a little—why those squires had gathered there like moths to a flame.
It was like something from a fairytale.
A couple turned gracefully in perfect time with the music, drawing elegant arcs through the air. Each time they spun, Lady Acklera’s pale sky-blue dress fluttered like the wings of a teasing butterfly, ethereal and light.
“So she really is practicing her dance.”
Before he realized it, Iadis had already chased away the squires and was now standing quietly behind Michalis.
“Yes.”
Michalis’s gaze rested on Eliana, her long silver hair simply pinned up.
Beneath the hem of her skirt, a hint of her shy knees would peek through the delicate white lace and then disappear again. A few strands of hair had slipped down the nape of her neck, drawing and holding his gaze.
It was the first time. The first time he had thought someone was… beautiful.
“Did you arrange her practice partner?”
After silently watching the couple engrossed in their dancing for a few moments, Michalis asked.
“Yes, Your Excellency. When it comes to dancing, who better than Lord Terius?”
“The second son of Count Terius, wasn’t he?”
Watching the two, still unaware of their audience, absorbed in practice, Michalis felt his mood steadily sour.
“That’s right. A man of noble birth, skilled in dance, and with a handsome face—he’s incredibly popular. Among the knights, Lord Terius is the most well-versed in matters of the social scene.”
Oblivious to the growing tension in Michalis’s clenched fist, Iadis continued to speak.
“He’s even nicknamed ‘The Star of the South.’ Ha ha ha.”
Iadis was genuinely pleased with himself. Like his workaholic superior, he had little to do with social events, and he believed he had made the best possible choice.
“Well done…”
Why did it feel so unpleasant? Michalis couldn’t quite articulate it, but he wanted to smack his annoyingly competent aide.
‘Was the waltz always like that?’
As he continued to watch, Michalis reevaluated the dance.
Their abdomens nearly touched, their embrace reminiscent of lovers. Their eyes locked, as if no one else existed. One hand gently met another, while a large hand supported her delicate back.
It was just a dance. And yet, it irritated him.
“Let’s go.”
He had never intended to see her again before the wedding. After watching the couple lost in the moment for several seconds, Michalis turned away without hesitation.
“Your Excellency, are you not going to greet Lady Acklera?”
Startled by Michalis’s sudden retreat, Iadis hurried after him.
“Continue with your report.”
“Yes, understood…”
There was a chill in Michalis’s voice that sent a shiver down Iadis’s spine. It felt as if he had made a serious mistake—one he couldn’t take back.
“Thank you for your help today, Lord Terius.”
Eliana offered her thanks to the knight who had been her partner for the past hour. In the Northern social circles, where heavy dresses and ornate jewelry made large movements cumbersome, more reserved dances like the minuet were preferred. The waltz had been a novel experience.
“The honor was mine, Lady Acklera.”
Dressed smartly in the knights’ ceremonial uniform, the handsome man gave a graceful bow in reply.
“I’ll be counting on you again tomorrow.”
“I’ll escort you back to the main residence.”
He was the perfect partner—right down to the closing escort.
‘I must thank Lord Iadis as well.’
Eliana was sincerely grateful to Iadis.
While her body retained the theoretical knowledge, she had no actual experience, which had made her anxious. On a whim, she had asked for help, and Iadis had not only provided her with a place to practice but also with a perfect partner.
To her surprise, he had even sent a musical ensemble (albeit the military band), which only deepened her appreciation of his competence.
“Lord Iadis.”
Upon entering the main building, Eliana headed straight to the aide’s office.
Today, the door was wide open, allowing her a clear view inside. As always, Iadis was buried in paperwork.
“Lady Acklera.”
At the sound of her approach, Iadis looked up from his writing. Overwhelmed by a new deluge of work, he was visibly exhausted.
“Thank you for arranging such a wonderful partner—and the musicians.”
“Ha ha, it was nothing. More importantly, Lady Acklera, His Excellency has returned.”
Iadis gave an awkward laugh and set his pen down.
“What?”
Eliana blinked in surprise at the unexpected news.
“Training at sea concluded earlier, and he returned just a short while ago.”
As Eliana processed this, Iadis continued.
“Since you’re already here, would you like to greet him?”
“All right.”
It had been a week since the incident with the dress critique.
“I will.”
Her response was a beat late. She knew she should greet him, but her nerves were tightening.
“His Excellency is in his office now. Please wait—I’ll escort you.”
Gesturing toward the inner office with his eyes, Iadis rose to his feet.
“No, it’s fine. Please stay seated.”
It was merely a few steps away. She couldn’t bring herself to ask someone clearly overwhelmed with work to perform such a trivial task.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Eliana stopped Iadis, who had been about to stand, and knocked on the door of the duke’s private office herself.
“Come in.”
The reply came instantly in Michalis’s voice, even before the last knock had faded.
Click.
The heavy door, adorned with intricate carvings, opened smoothly on well-oiled hinges.
“Oh…”
She had only opened the door because she was told to enter, but Eliana froze in place.
“Lady Acklera?”
Michalis had assumed it was Iadis—his aide—as usual. But upon hearing an unexpected, clear voice, he turned toward the door and froze as well.
“Ah… I… uh…”
Her pupils trembled.
Eliana couldn’t get her words out. Her tongue refused to move. Because Michalis was—completely naked.
