Kedrick, who had been showing off his muscles, seemed to have quickly lost interest and returned to his usual demeanor.

“I think we should stay here tonight and depart tomorrow. I took a quick look earlier, and repairing the carriage Miss was riding will take quite some time.”

Arsen thought for a moment and then nodded.

Staying here would make tomorrow’s schedule a bit strenuous, but Lydia and Nella needed rest.

When the demonic beast charged at their carriage, Arsen’s heart had dropped.

He knew the centipede-type demonic beast was approaching and had prepared defenses in advance, but he hadn’t expected another one to jump out from the opposite direction.

Fortunately, Lydia and Nella’s injuries were limited to minor bruises; otherwise, they would have had to return to the lord’s castle for treatment.

“The Miss must have been very startled.”

“The nanny also rolled around inside the carriage.”

“Besides that, didn’t she witness not only a demonic beast head flying toward her but also that head being sliced in half? Even our men can’t eat properly for two days after seeing something like that for the first time. You know this.”

Arsen recalled Lydia retching with a pale face.

Yes, it wasn’t a pleasant sight for someone seeing a demonic beast for the first time.

As Arsen was about to check on Lydia, he thought it might be good to scare her a little more.

He had no intention of exaggerating or boasting to frighten her. Just telling her the reality as it was would be enough to make her scared.

People who haven’t visited the northern border don’t know how dangerous the area is.

Not knowing, she stubbornly insisted on repairing the abandoned temple and living there, despite having no connections at the border.

He planned to scare her a little, coax her, and get her to come to the mansion.

That would be safer, easier for Arsen to keep an eye on Lydia, and above all, more comfortable for Lydia herself.

The mansion had servants to attend to her, and while not lavish, meals were prepared for every meal.

But if she went to the temple, Lydia would have to do all those things herself. Regardless of whether she could do it or not, wasn’t it human nature to want a more comfortable life?

Arsen firmly believed that once Lydia knew this, she would stop being stubborn and come to the mansion.

* * *

The knight order quickly finished preparing the camp. They lit a bonfire and pitched tents. Those who couldn’t fight would sleep in the carriages.

Since the carriage Lydia had ridden was still being repaired, there was only one intact carriage to sleep in. Lydia and Byron both offered to give it up to the other.

Byron even volunteered to take watch duty, saying he wanted to pray all night.

Lydia also wanted to sit next to Byron and continue their unfinished conversation. But with her stamina, staying up all night would leave her in worse shape than a sick chicken the next day.

But where would she sleep?

In the tent crowded with knights? Should she just sleep outdoors next to Byron?

“Miss, you can share a tent with the Commander.”

“What?”

Kedrick immediately dismissed Lydia’s concerns. The problem was that his solution wasn’t particularly conventional.

Sharing a tent alone with Arsen? Didn’t he think this was excessive for an unmarried man and woman?

“Ah, perhaps you’re uncomfortable sleeping with the Commander?”

“Could you please be more careful with your word choice, Sir Kedrick? I’ll have you know I’m a priestess who has taken a vow of chastity.”

“But how else can I express sharing a tent and sleeping together?”

Kedrick scratched his head, pondering.

“Share a tent? Spend the night in one tent?!”

No matter what words were used, nothing sounded appropriate. At this point, one would realize the issue wasn’t the words but the situation itself, but Kedrick still acted as if there was no problem.

“Are you worried the Commander might try something inappropriate?”

“It’s not that. I haven’t known Sir Arsen for long, but from what I’ve observed these past few days, Sir Arsen is a very conservative person. I don’t think he would behave inappropriately.”

Kedrick grinned lecherously at Lydia’s answer.

“Miss, that’s not because he’s conservative, it’s because our Commander is socially—ack!”

“Kedrick, seeing you chatting idly, it seems you have nothing to do?”

Arsen, who had approached without notice, hit Kedrick while pretending to pat his shoulder. Kedrick worried if his shoulder bone was still intact as he pouted and joined the other knights.

Lydia smiled softly at Kedrick, then looked at Arsen and suppressed her smile as she asked.

“Sir, are you socially awkward?”

“……No.”

She heard it all. Arsen answered, trying not to show that he was gritting his teeth. Socially awkward, really.

Arsen simply didn’t want to add more people he had to be responsible for.

If he met a woman and became lovers, he felt he would want to reveal the heavy secret he carried on his back.

What sin had someone committed to bear that secret together just because they loved him?

So Arsen kept women at a distance. Therefore, calling him socially awkward was inappropriate.

Arsen hadn’t avoided romance because he didn’t know how to meet women, but because he deliberately chose not to.

It was quite a reasonable explanation, but when he thought about saying it out loud, explaining at length would make him look really socially awkward.

So Arsen answered Lydia’s question with a firm “No,” but—

“Hmm, so you’re not.”

It seemed to have no effect.

“I really am not.”

“Yes, I believe you. But it’s strange. After hearing that story, I feel completely comfortable sharing a tent with you. Strange, I truly don’t believe you’re socially awkward. How strange.”

She doesn’t believe it at all. A deep wrinkle formed between Arsen’s brows.

Arsen vowed, looking at the back of Kedrick’s head, that he would soon arrange an enthusiastic and intense sparring session for his vice commander who treated the commander like a socially awkward fool.

“You seem very pleased.”

After watching the back of Lydia’s head as she successfully teased him and happily entered the tent, he soon followed her in.

“Not there, use the inner bed.”

There was a place to sleep that wasn’t quite a bed—straw woven together with sheets on top—but it wasn’t the ground either.

Arsen pushed Lydia, who was trying to settle on the bed near the tent entrance, toward the inside.

“Seeing manners like this, you don’t seem socially awkward, so how did you become one, Sir?”

I’m not socially awkward.

Arsen chose silence instead of a futile response.

“Why don’t you date, Sir? I heard there are quite a few ladies in the capital who fancy you.”

“I’m not interested.”

That was somewhat true. Arsen couldn’t even remember the names of the ladies who approached him.

There were no women impressive enough to remember their names, nor any he wanted to meet twice.

“Is it because of your secret?”

“You’re very interested in my love life.”

“At your age, it’s time to get married.”

The marriageable age for nobles began at eighteen. Usually, they got engaged around eighteen and, barring any issues, held the wedding the following year.

If Richard hadn’t staged a coup, he would have married Lydia the year after arriving at the marquisate.

Well, that’s all pointless talk now.

“The young marquis isn’t married yet either, is he?”

Since Devon was at the very end of marriageable age, Arsen dragged him in as a sacrifice for this conversation.

“Ah.”

Lydia, who Arsen expected to grimace at the mention of Devon, smiled strangely.

“Devon has a secret too.”

“What secret?”

“The secret is…”

Lydia leaned toward Arsen, raised one hand to cover her mouth, and whispered.

“It’s a secret.”

“……Are you trying to be funny?”

When disappointment spread across Arsen’s face, who had been genuinely curious and focused, Lydia laughed delightedly. Was it that funny?

Arsen let out a wry smile as he watched Lydia, who seemed about to die from amusement.

“You seem to find teasing me very entertaining.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. But it is quite fun.”

A mischievous smile still hung on Lydia’s face.

“But I’ll tell you Devon’s real secret since I feel bad. Actually, Devon isn’t choosing not to marry; he can’t. He’s impotent.”

“……What did you just say?”

“He can’t perform as a man.”

* * *

Marchioness Evansi loved her son, Devon. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Lydia, but compared to the love she gave Devon, it was insignificant.

Young Lydia always wanted to please her mother. She tried to be the gentle and good daughter her mother wanted.

It was when she was about eight years old.

‘Lydia, come here. From now on, you must listen carefully and remember what your mother tells you.’

The Marchioness was ill. It began as a mental illness. The Marchioness, who had always been physically weak, couldn’t overcome her mental illness and took to her bed, eventually surrendering her body to the disease.

‘Your father is, no, that’s not it. That’s not important. Lydia, when you grow up and become an adult, you will get married.’

‘Yes, Mother.’

‘Then you will have children.’

Young Lydia nodded earnestly beside her mother’s bed.

Getting married, having children, building a family.

Though educated on these concepts, at that time, she viewed them as just playing house. But Lydia pretended to understand.

Because she thought it might help her sick mother’s heart, even a little.

‘You must have at least two children. Try to have two sons if possible. Then, when the children are a bit older, you must give them to your brother.’

‘To my brother? Why? Brother will get married and have his own children, won’t he?’

‘Devon is……’