15

"Do you still not believe me?"

I asked Ayla, who was looking at the people filling the mansion with a complex expression.

Ayla turned her gaze towards me.

There was no immediate response.

I thought Ayla wasn't the type to trust people easily. When we trained in the dojo, Ayla was always serious, and when I first met her, she didn't make any jokes or lies.

Whenever we sparred, her expression was always serious, as if reflecting on how important it was to wield a sword.

That must have been the case.

A second daughter. Though she had the blood of a baron, whether or not she could be recognized by the baron was uncertain.

She wasn't in a position where she was constantly threatened with assassination, but at the same time, it seemed the baron was unsure of what to do with Ayla.

It meant that, rather than being treated as a real child, she was viewed as a useful piece on the board that could be moved when necessary. If Ayla hadn't had an alluring appearance, she probably wouldn't have been recognized as the baron's daughter.

I raised my hand and lightly clapped my hands.

At the sound, Ayla turned her gaze towards me, slightly surprised.

"Excuse me."

I lowered my hand again and brought it together in front of me.

At the sound of my clap, a servant approached us. The steps were so graceful they might have been even more elegant than mine. The movements were soft, as if the person had lived their whole life in a noble family.

The person was an elderly man with graying hair and wrinkles on his face, but his posture was still straight.

"Did you call for me, Madam Head Maid?"

The man, who spoke and gently bowed, was a butler, impeccably dressed in formal attire. But he wasn't a man.

The disciple that the witch brought was unavoidable, but I didn't want to bring any more men into this mansion. It was said that most of the servants inside the mansion were women.

Though the servants might have been arranged according to the count's preferences, I didn't want to make things uncomfortable for the two people.

Was the head maid superior, or the butler? If we had to argue, the butler was likely closer to the nobility.

But the butler bowed to me, showing a humble attitude as though I was the master.

Seeing Ayla's expression deep in thought, I extended my hand to the butler.

The butler placed a large bag he had by his side in front of me.

I knelt down and opened the bag.

I heard Ayla inhale sharply.

Swords are typically less practical when they are excessively adorned. Anything that's too decorated could catch on clothing or fall off, or even break when swung.

But there are decorations that don't easily break.

For example, the engravings on the sword.

Too intricate engravings might get distorted or blurred with use, but these engravings weren't overly detailed or extravagant.

This sword was one that might be used by a truly wealthy family's knight, one that considered practicality.

I carefully lifted the sword in its scabbard and brought it to Ayla.

Holding the sword with both hands, I bent at the waist and politely offered it to her.

"This is a gift for you, Ayla."

Ayla looked at me silently, then took the sword and held it.

Almost instinctively, she drew the sword from its sheath. The blade sparkled brightly as it caught the sunlight.

For a moment, Ayla gazed at the shining blade, then placed her fingers on the middle of the blade and checked its balance. It was perfectly horizontal.

I already knew Ayla's swordsmanship.

It wasn't about cutting with strength, but gracefully using the sharp blade to make wounds, aiming for vital points when necessary.

It wasn't a flashy or spiritual swordsmanship, but one meant to kill.

But even so, Ayla loved it.

So, I prepared a sword that she would love.

"Why something like this…?"

"Ayla."

I straightened up and looked at her. Ayla's eyes, looking at me, finally wavered.

It was the look of someone wanting to trust.

Probably the same look I showed Ayla when I was on the verge of dying in the back alley, beaten by thugs over just a coin.

"Don't you want to try the sword?"

Ayla's blue eyes turned toward me.

"If you wish, I think it's fine for you to try it."

Blink.

Ayla blinked.

Ah.

Her swordsmanship hadn't changed at all.

The strength behind her strikes was weaker than before. Ayla, unable to train openly in front of others, had lost some of her muscle.

But her skill was still sharp. If anything, it seemed to have grown a bit more refined.

Maybe it was because my own strength had decreased so much?

The two thin blades clashed, and a clear, bright sound rang out. It was a beautiful sound.

If I had been in my previous condition, I might have been able to defeat Ayla. Unlike Ayla, I had trained much more in many areas.

But—

Once again, a sound of metal clashing rang out, and the sword I was holding flew from my hand. With a dull clatter, it fell to the ground.

With the sword pointed at my neck, Ayla seemed momentarily frozen.

"What is this?"

"What action are you referring to, Ayla?"

"You…"

"It was simply because my skills were lacking compared to yours, Ayla."

"Do you think you can make me feel at ease with something like this?"

"If it allows you to relax and live comfortably, I am happy as well. But, can you truly feel at ease with this?"

"If you wish, I can wield the sword once more."

Ayla silently stared at me.

It seemed like she was trying to probe my inner thoughts, and at the same time… she almost seemed to be longing for something.

But that longing wasn't directed at me.

After returning to being the baron's daughter, it was the first time she could fully indulge in what she desired.

I wanted to show her that.

Now that the count was dead, there was no reason for her to run away. No, I would ensure she didn't have to escape.

She could do whatever she wanted within this mansion—move freely, act as she wished, and develop her skills as much as she liked.

I wanted to say that to her.

Ayla took the sword from my neck and stepped back a few paces.

I bent down again and grabbed the sword.

"Are you planning to slit my throat when I'm not paying attention?"

Since I was holding a real sword, it would be easy to think so.

"Ayla, if I truly held the sword with that intention, and had the skill to do it, do you think you would still be alive?"

Ayla snorted in response.

She was always a bit strange, whether now or in the past.

She wanted to trust people, yet she built walls and didn't believe them.

Only after testing someone over and over did she start to trust them.

In fact, she trusted those who pointed a sword at her more than those who smiled sweetly. Of course, that didn't mean she wouldn't resist.

"'Trust' can mean many things. There's the 'trust' that comes from believing everything someone says, like an innocent young lady, and then there's the 'trust' where you believe someone is honest with you, whether they are an enemy or not."

"You're quite a complicated person, aren't you?"

When Ayla was younger, she once told me that.

Now, I wanted to return the words to her.

…

Well, I wasn't much different.

I had opened up only because I had collided with her and had my own walls broken down by accident.

With my current strength, could I break the lock Ayla had placed on her heart?

I wouldn't know unless I tried.

With slightly trembling hands, I gripped the sword tightly and charged toward Ayla.

"Well, that's enough for now."

After clashing a few more times, I was sweating profusely by the time Ayla nodded her head.

"You really mean it, don't you? Truly."

"Of course."

When I straightened my shoulders and answered, Ayla let out a small laugh.

"There's still much I don't know about you. But, well, fine."

"If you ever need to, you can strike me down at any time."

I was planning to add one more safety measure.

When I shared this idea with the witch yesterday, she had reacted with, "Are you crazy?"

I wasn't crazy.

"After all, from the beginning, I'm just moving toward achieving the life goal I've had."

They say to dream big.

That big dream was now in front of me.

"I'll prepare your bath water."

"Alright."

Ayla's face, when she answered, looked somewhat relieved—an expression of someone who had moved their body vigorously after a long time.

There was a faint smell of sweat from Ayla's body as she passed by me, the scent of damp clothes.

After preparing Ayla's bath, I waited until she entered before heading to my own room.

On the way, I encountered the butler.

"Lady Maid."

The butler addressed me by that title, even though he knew my real name.

"You may call me Luna."

Upon hearing that, the butler nodded seriously and then conveyed a message to me.

"It's news about the Count."

It was probably news that Daisy brought.

It must have been passed on by one of Daisy's apprentices at the magic tower.

"The Count has been murdered."

"I see."

I bowed my head respectfully.

The butler also bowed his head politely.

I went to wash up.

Since it would be a bit rushed to prepare and clean up before Ayla came out of the bathroom.