# Enhanced Translation
As I once recalled, if Maximillian was a typical JRPG-style hero, Gilbert was like the protagonist of an old-fashioned hero tale.
It wasn't just his humble origins, his meteoric rise, or his exemplary chivalry that embodied those old values. The decisive factor lay elsewhere.
He married a princess. Like the glory bestowed upon a knight who slayed a dragon.
"To be precise, she wasn't exactly a princess."
"Hmm?"
"She was the daughter of His Majesty's brother, so she was the king's niece."
Gilbert smiled bitterly, hesitating for a moment before taking a hearty swig of his drink. As if cautiously revealing a personal flaw, yet pretending not to care at all.
He was always such an ambivalent man.
"They couldn't just hand over a royal to someone as insignificant as me. They needed to make some gesture for the man who would bring back the Demon Lord's head, and she was just the right prize, you might say."
"Prize, you say."
"Yes, those bastards thought of her as a prize when they handed her over."
A crushing sound was heard. The pewter wine glass crumbled. Gilbert brushed the metal fragments onto the floor with an awkward smile.
"She had almost no succession rights, so having children wouldn't be an issue. But she had royal blood, so she couldn't oppose the royal family. And if I returned after killing the Demon Lord, I could rightfully claim to be the strongest warrior in Tilles..."
"But Maximillian would be there."
"Hmm. He wasn't a 'typical' Tilles person. And he wasn't loyal to the Tilles royal family either."
From the Tilles royal family's perspective, they needed a card they could play. Since they couldn't control the hero, she was the alternative.
A traditional knight loyal to the royal family, but one who would return after killing the Demon Lord with tremendous authority.
So they intended to put a leash on him. By "bestowing" the princess as his companion. To refuse would be an insult; to accept would make him the royal family's hunting dog.
"Why not just become king instead?"
"...What?"
"Why not? I plan to become king when I return. Wouldn't that be grand? Cut down all those dogs and declare that only those stronger than me should step forward."
"This is why Droan people are like this."
Gilbert chuckled and shook his head.
"A nation must exist on legitimacy, not power. Social rules persist on the foundation of justice. When a nation without legitimacy loses its authority, it ceases to function."
"Using difficult words doesn't make you look smarter, I've heard."
"Oh? Were my words difficult?"
"Pick up your sword. I'll kill you."
Ivan, who had been listening to the conversation between the two madmen, suddenly asked Gilbert. (Since their fighting was an everyday occurrence, there was no reason to interfere.)
"From what I hear, you don't seem to have any loyalty. You don't believe in your country?"
"Of course not. What do you think I've been through to get to this position?"
"Then why? After killing the Demon Lord, why put shackles on yourself?"
"Haha, well..."
Gilbert answered with an extremely unpleasant expression.
"It was love, of course."
What fate would await a royal woman who married a lowly country knight, one with such weak political standing that she was offered as a "prize"?
And even ignoring all those circumstances. Even if she hadn't been of royal blood, even if she hadn't been put up as a prize. Even if she had been just a mere handmaiden.
He would have loved her anyway. Because he fell in love at first sight. With that rose-like woman.
As Ivan was listening to all this, he spoke up beside Einar, who looked like he wanted to die.
"Like a rose... She seemed more sharp-edged to me..."
"Roses have thorns, Ivan. You'll understand when you meet more women."
"This guy married his first love, little brother. Don't listen to him. He's talking like he knows something."
"Pick up your axe, I'll kill you."
"Can you even do it?"
"Want me to show you?"
Ignoring the growling of the two madmen, Ivan thought quietly.
Like a rose.
The Odelia de Tilles he remembered had a much sharper impression.
Well, at their first meeting, she was slapping Gilbert's cheek.
# EP23. Waiting for Winter.
The largest train station in Upper Matilenne, Matil Etoile Station, was quiet. Isabelle and her companions looked around with bitter expressions.
It had only been a few days since they left this place. In those few days, the trade route that symbolized the city had completely stopped.
Soldiers could be seen bustling about. In the distance, a procession of refugees stretched along the streets.
"Even if we defend the city, there's a problem. We can't feed all those people."
"I know. I know, but..."
Isabelle bit her lip hard at Elfihera's words. It was a sensible response. Not only was there no way to feed all those people, but honestly, it was uncertain whether the royal family would fight back.
No, it wasn't the royal family's position. It was the position of the House of Peers. Why would they risk their lives to defend the capital of this country?
"I'll go ahead."
"Oskar? Where to?"
"To my mother. Will you also go to see your mother, Miss Isabelle?"
"Not right away. She's not someone who would evacuate. And she's not in a position to do so..."
What would the soldiers of this city think if even the hero's family abandoned the capital? Isabelle shook her head, biting her lip firmly.
And her mother was not someone who would prioritize safety in a situation like this.
It couldn't be helped. How else could she be, having received such an upbringing? Isabelle sighed deeply and straightened her back proudly.
"A hero must do what a hero must do! Alright. I should also pay my respects to the Duchess of Etakrihi."
"Then let's go. My mother will be pleased."
Oskar turned around with a bitter smile.
The noble residential district was located in a beautiful downtown area called Montpellier Street. It was a street where marble had been lavishly used, earning it the nickname "Street of Light."
The refugee processions and frequent crimes occurring elsewhere did not dare reach this street. The street was quiet and still maintained its neat appearance.
Ironically, Isabelle shuddered at the sight. It seemed as if the nobles here believed they wouldn't be harmed by the grand dukes even if they lost the civil war.
Or perhaps there was another "reason" why such belief would be proven true.
"Isn't it a bit scary?"
"Does it feel like everyone's watching us?"
"Probably."
No one directly blocked Oskar as he led the way. They merely whispered and dispersed, or quietly called their servants to give some instructions.
A noblewoman in an elegant dress whispered to her maid while glancing in their direction. The servant soon retreated with hurried steps and disappeared somewhere.
The nobles were not allies. Despite being within the same city walls.
Oskar silently walked to a massive wall. A gate entwined with rose vines came into view. The emblem of House Etakrihi—crossed antlers, spear, and shield—looked down upon them.
"Young master!? H-how are you here?!"
"Martin. Where is my mother?"
"The madam is in the inner garden... Ah, no, how are you here now? I-I thought you would be in Krasilov! Leave now, even at this moment! Upper Matilenne is dangerous!!"
"I know. And, thank you."
Oskar smiled as he patted the old butler's shoulder.
"Thank you for staying by my mother's side even though you know it's dangerous."
"...Where would I go at my age? With this old body."
The butler chuckled as he opened the door. He looked over the group and bowed respectfully.
"Welcome, distinguished guests from all nations. Please forgive the inadequate reception due to these troubled times."
"Thank you for your hospitality, Martin."
"Yes, Miss Isabelle. I'm relieved to see you in good health."
Isabelle greeted the warmly smiling old butler and passed through the gate. The mansion of Duke Etakrihi, known as the House of Roses, soon came into view.
"Wow, Oskar. You really were a young master from a wealthy family?"
"When you know how much the bounty on the Demon Lord's head was, this isn't much."
"But why does Isabelle..."
"What about me? I'm rich too, you know?"
"I'm newly impressed by how frugal you are. Amazing, really. Your brother should know this."
"You should tell him. That she's sweet, good at housework, from a wealthy family, and has a solid sense of economy."
At Isabelle's words, Asidis flinched and carefully offered her opinion.
"Um, me too. I only spend money on food... And I don't even eat that much...?"
"Asidis, you eat like a pig at a trough."
"Are your ears lying pouches or something? Do you lie as much as your ears are big? Should I be more honest with you?"
"My, how barbaric. Is what's attached to your body a barbarism pouch then?"
"I am ashamed of all of you."
At Yu-jin's words, the group fell silent again. After walking along with their heads turned away from each other, Oskar finally stopped in the middle of the inner garden.
A woman in a red dress was drinking tea, bathed in the midday sunlight.
Yu-jin found himself closing his mouth. Isabelle's mother, like Isabelle's, had an appearance that made it difficult to believe she had such a grown daughter—she could easily have been mistaken for Oskar's older sister with a significant age gap.
Indeed, is this what they call a fantasy world? How could a woman with a twenty-year-old son have such an appearance?
Amid Yu-jin's admiring silence, the woman's gaze fell on Oskar. Her sharp green eyes paused for a moment.
"Mother."
Oskar slowly approached and knelt respectfully beside her. The woman silently looked down at her son.
Yu-jin noticed a slightly trembling hand. The woman's gloved hand was quivering subtly. Yet her expression remained coldly fixed.
After seeing where the woman's gaze was directed, Yu-jin let out a small sigh. The woman was looking at the sword at Oskar's waist.
It was the Grand Duke of Etakrihi's sword. What it implied was so clear that the woman slightly bowed her head.
Tears formed at the corners of her eyes.
"Ber...? Your father?"
"He's fighting."
She bit her lip.
"Fool..."
"Mother. You must leave the city."
"Your father hasn't returned yet."
The tears dried quickly. The woman wore the same sharp expression as before and spoke proudly.
"I must keep your father's place for his return. I am the Duchess."
"Mother."
"I must maintain a place for your father to return to. I am the Duchess."
"Mother."
"Your father will return safely. He always has... He always has. That fool, certainly."
"Yes, Mother. Father will be safe."
"So I will do what I must as the Grand Duke's wife. I will protect this family, this house."
"...Mother. But..."
"Enough."
The woman pressed her trembling hands together firmly. She raised her head toward her son with sharp eyes.
"You do what you must as the Grand Duke's son. Take that sword and go to the House of Peers as a representative of our family."
"This city is not safe."
"So you're going to run away?"
"No."
"Then there's no reason for me to leave this city, abandoning my son and husband."
The woman smiled magnificently.
She stroked Oskar's head and firmly grasped his hand as she continued.
"Your will is your father's will, and your father's will is the will of this country's Guardian Duke. Go. As the last adult of this family, I respect all your decisions."
"Yes, Mother."
Oskar bowed deeply before stepping back. The woman's gaze fell upon the group.
The group stood frozen under an inexplicable pressure.
"Isabelle, and the heroes of this generation..."
As if amused by her own words, the woman smiled as if making a joke and said:
"Please take care of my son."
She had no informants. The Guardian Duke could not possess political assets. The House of Etakrihi had to maintain absolute neutrality in political matters.
Moreover, her family connection—the Tilles Duke who could be called the king's brother—was royal blood in name only. To the extent that he had to offer his daughter as a prize for the hero party.
Even he no longer remains in this era. That woman is a hothouse flower, and no power holder would respect her wishes.
However, apart from political assets, the woman's words carried weight. She had directly faced the hero party, survived that era, and married a member of the hero party.
She had the strength of a mother who had to raise her son in a country where no allies remained while her husband left to assassinate the Demon Lord during that long journey.
She had been a hostage all her life and had to be her husband's shackle all her life. Yet she never gave up her pride.
So this woman, who didn't know how severe the current situation was, was simply doing her best to plead to her son's peers.
"Yes, Duchess of Etakrihi. I swear."
Isabelle knelt on one knee, planted her sword on the ground, and bowed her head. Unconsciously responding to this familiar woman's unfamiliar aspect.
As a hero.
"I will do my best."
They left the street immediately afterward. Their destination was the Palais de Royal, this country's royal palace.
It happened right after the news arrived that Count Grandmartel's legion had reached the border of Upper Matilenne.