This Isn't What I Meant
Ferda stared at Goz with eyes wide open.
Silver hair identical to Ruri’s. Silver eyes the same. The exact same face he had first locked eyes with at the Grand Council.
“Welcome, Regent of Baldrova.”
“Clan Head Goz.”
They exchanged formal courtesies by speaking each other’s names. Yet not a shred of respect lived in either man’s gaze.
“I hadn’t even realized so precious a person was coming in. Ordinarily my subordinates would open the door for you themselves.”
In other words: Who do you think you are, barging in?
“I decided there was no particular need.”
Ferda answered as though it were simply his prerogative. Goz’s eyes rolled toward the entrance. Looking that way, the only thing the men standing there could do was keep their heads bowed.
“This is a matter of our bloodline. Family business, if you will. Outsiders should not meddle in family affairs.”
“I have no desire to insert myself into a family quarrel either.”
Even as he said it, Ferda took one more step forward. Then he felt a light weight settle on Ruri’s shoulder—his own hand.
“But this child is the one most favored by the person I love. Am I supposed to stand by and watch the child she cherishes get hurt over nothing more than a family spat?”
Ferda did not yield an inch. That, in itself, was a challenge to Goz’s authority—and Goz despised such challenges.
“I felt it the first time I saw you. You’ve got quite the nerve.”
Goz rose from his seat. In that instant the presence he had been radiating grew markedly heavier. Ruri dropped to her knees and bowed her head. Every other Silver Dragon spawn present followed suit in submission.
Goz jerked his chin toward Ruri.
“So tell me, Regent of Baldrova—how well do you actually know Ruri Silverwind, the maid of the one you love?”
“She is the personal attendant of my irreplaceable fiancée.”
“And?”
“That is enough.”
“Yes. That is all you see. It seems this wench never told you everything.”
A rough hand, hardened by martial training and battle, pointed at Ruri.
“This girl is a spy sent by Lord Silverwind.”
He laid her identity bare.
“She was planted to keep watch over Baldrova and determine when she would grow weak. Until the day Lord Silverwind passed, she was under orders to make regular reports.”
“Is that so?”
“You look thoroughly unconvinced. Do I seem like a liar to you?”
“Do I look like a fool who believes the words of someone who has already shown me hostility?”
“I agree. Then why not ask the person herself? Ruri Silverwind.”
At that summons, Ruri felt her head grow even heavier.
“Speak the truth. Was anything I said wrong?”
“I… that is…”
“Answer properly. Did I say something false?”
Goz would not allow so much as a single excuse. In the end Ruri told the truth.
“I… received Lord Silverwind’s command… and was watching over Lady Baldrova.”
“To what end?”
“…Exactly as Lord Goz said. To monitor Lady Baldrova and uncover her weaknesses.”
Silence fell. Ruri could scarcely breathe for the misery of it. Yet more tormenting still was the fact that she could not lift her head—could not even see what expression Ferda wore.
At last Ferda cut through the quiet.
“I am not surprised.”
A cold, sardonic tone. Ruri’s toes went numb. It felt as though the floor had vanished and she had been cast into a chasm.
“When a spawn bearing Silverwind’s name swore loyalty to Baldrova, I naturally assumed there had to be a reason.”
Contempt. Betrayal. Negative emotions thick as a swamp seemed to swallow her whole. But only for a moment.
“So?”
At that single question the pressure crushing Ruri dissolved like a mirage. Goz’s brow furrowed.
“So what?”
“So what, exactly, is the problem?”
Ruri raised her head and looked at Ferda. He wore the same stubborn expression he always did. Goz’s face twisted with irritation at the unexpected response.
“She is a spy planted by Lord Silverwind. You cannot possibly have failed to understand that.”
“Yes, a spy. And yet she remains the maid my fiancée loves most.”
Ferda clasped his hands behind his back and squared his shoulders.
“Even in the moment when everyone else turned their backs, this child stood at my fiancée’s side—a loyal maid. A spawn who has devoted herself to Baldrova more than anyone. That is the value she holds right now. Do you truly believe that value will be shaken by words from someone she is meeting for the first time today?”
The hands of the kneeling Ruri clenched without her noticing. Those words nearly made her emotions burst free.
“Believe it or don’t—that is your freedom. I can hardly force the point on a human who does not even carry Silverwind’s blood. However…”
Goz’s eyes gleamed more sharply.
“You have been remarkably insolent for some time now.”
The air churned violently. The fuse on a bomb capable of wiping a nation from the map was already lit and burning. Goz’s face showed a man whose patience had reached its limit.
Dragon spawns were not dragons—but neither were they human. Every one of them was a dragon supremacist who believed themselves superior to mankind. The sight of a mere human talking back could never sit well.
An ordinary man would have bowed. A wise man would have stepped back to defuse the situation.
“The one who ought to show proper respect is not me—it is you.”
But Ferda neither retreated nor bowed. A blue light flickered in his eyes. As Regent of Baldrova he stood on equal footing and faced Goz without flinching.
“You threaten and try to sow discord with someone else’s maid, yet you presume to lecture me on manners?”
He spoke each word with deliberate clarity, as if to say that Goz was not the only one whose temper had been frayed by this conversation. Veins stood out on Goz’s neck.
Ruri knew. The man before them was better suited to the role of hot-blooded warrior than cold-blooded leader.
“The only reason I have not snapped your neck this instant is the mercy of Lord Blancaros and my own patience.”
“Does Silverwind call fear by the name of patience? Too frightened to confront my fiancée directly, so you puff yourself up before her maid and her fiancé instead…”
Deep contempt settled in Ferda’s narrowed eyes.
“Are you not ashamed?”
That was the moment the battle of wills reached its full stop. The provocation Ferda had thrown sent a fierce gale hammering against the windows. Goz, who had been seated like a rock, rose to his feet.
“Yes. Truly shameful. That I must sit here and watch a mere human swagger about like this…”
Goz took one step forward. The veins on his hands stood out hideously as his knuckles cracked.
“I will wash that shame away with your blood, right here.”
Just as he was about to enter striking range—
“Do not take another step.”
Someone stood in front of Goz. Ruri, who ought to have remained on her knees, was somehow already there, blocking his path.
“Ruri, you little—!”
“He is… Lady Baldrova’s husband.”
She was still wracked by the instinctive urge to submit. The only reason she could stand at all was—
“I understand this threat as a challenge against Lady Baldrova herself. Therefore I will respond accordingly.”
Resolve. The resolve to stop him even if it meant her own death.
Goz looked thoroughly fed up.
“From northern warrior to loyal dog. To think you would serve even a human as your master now.”
The heat that had boiled in him cooled instead. The wind battering the windows died. Goz returned to his seat and released his oppressive presence.
“As representative of Silverwind, I have nothing more to say to a dog. You may take her, Regent of Baldrova. I would prefer we never cross paths again.”
Ferda answered with the same casual composure, as though nothing had happened.
“Then I will take my leave.”
He, too, abandoned the contest of wills.
“Ruri.”
“Yes.”
“Let us go.”
“…Yes.”
He led the trembling Ruri out and brought the incident to a close.
Goz remained seated, eyes fixed on the place where Ferda and Ruri had stood, lost in thought. What his retinas registered was one thing; what his mind saw with perfect clarity was the image of Ruri standing against him.
Ruri of the Blade Wind.
Beyond the northern ice barriers, Silverwind’s spawns fought the beings of the bitter cold. Among those foes, the most vicious and dangerous were the Frost Giants. Like the monsters of the far east, no one knew where they came from, yet they emerged endlessly to spread frost across the mortal realm. Even five well-trained dragon spawns could barely bring one down. But Ruri had been different. With her small frame she had faced three giants at once and defeated them. She had suffered grievous wounds, yet so long as she lived she could recover. She was a pride and a model for those who guarded the Serdes Continent. Even Goz had felt a sense of incongruity around her more than once or twice.
And yet that same girl…
Their reunion had been the worst. A ridiculous maid’s uniform. The demeanor of a little serving girl. And that stupid question. The query she had flung out while clinging to a thread of hope had been a world away from the Blade Wind. Everything about it irritated him. To think that such a creature had once made him feel threatened…
But what irritated him more than anything else was—
Ferda Baldrova…
—the human who had stood against him. Irritating humans were nothing new. The sort who believed they could bend dragons to their will. The sort who, trusting only in their own rank, treated dragons as equals. Those types he beheaded without leaving room for second chances, making examples of them. That was simply how dragon society worked.
But this one is different.
He did not want to admit it, yet when their eyes met he had felt it with absolute certainty. The man wore the face of someone closer to an immortal than anyone else. And so Goz could sense it intuitively.
As long as that insolent bastard is around… this revenge will never come to pass.
He clenched his fist tight. Since Silverwind’s death he had not forgotten the man for a single day. Nor had his thirst for vengeance skipped a single day. He could not allow everything to be ruined now.
Revenge… must be carried out. No matter what it takes.
Ruri followed silently behind Ferda. The surroundings were so quiet that the sound of their boots echoed the length of the long corridor.
“Did the conversation go well?”
“….”
Ruri kept her mouth shut.
“Won’t you say something—anything?”
“…I do not wish to talk.”
“Is that any way to speak to the person who helped you?”
Ruri’s booted feet stopped where they were. She stood still, head hanging low, and forced her voice out.
“…Who…”
A voice thick with moisture wrung the words free.
“Who… asked you for help?”
“….”
Turning the tables. The phrase fit the situation perfectly. Yet Ferda said nothing. She was right. She had never asked for help. This might have been something she could have resolved herself. Perhaps it was his own premature ambition that had rushed ahead.
“You’re right.”
Ferda acknowledged it evenly.
“I did something foolish.”
He turned on his heel exactly as he was. Ferda began to walk away, leaving the place alone.
“Sorry for getting in the way.”
He walked on. Ruri stared blankly at his back.
After leaving Silverwind’s private chambers, Ruri continued to trail mutely after Ferda. She had no idea what words to choose. Her emotions seemed to swirl in a vortex. She stole a glance at his back. Broad. It felt like a sturdy pillar she could lean against without fear of it collapsing—almost like her father, like Silverwind. Yet the feeling that back stirred in her was utterly different from Silverwind.
Her insides burned. She had lived longer. She had brushed past death’s door more times than she could count. So why did she feel so much smaller than that back?
“Did the conversation go well?”
Ferda asked. When no answer came for a long while, he glanced over his shoulder and asked again. Blue eyes glinted between strands of gray hair.
“Won’t you say something—anything?”
Ruri forced her mouth open.
“…I do not wish to talk.”
A childish sulk instead of an adult’s composure.
“Is that any way to speak to the person who helped you?”
Helped her? If Ruri had not stepped in at that moment, Ferda’s neck would have been snapped and a calamitous wind would have swept the continent. How dare he call himself the one who helped after doing something so stupid?
She cursed him inwardly, yet Ruri knew the truth. None of this would have happened if she had never clung to that tiny hope in the first place. She ought to thank him for stepping forward. One simple word would settle everything. And yet—even that small acknowledgment was something she did not want to give right now. If she spoke, her unsteady voice would betray her. She would reveal the incompetence of a maid who had attended Baldrova all this time. She would once again show him her weakness.
She clenched her fists tight and lifted her head.
“Who…”
She forced the sound out, smothering her indignation.
“Who asked you for help?”
Only after the words left her mouth did she realize her mistake. That was not how an adult handled things. It was the pathetic sight of someone unable to admit her own frailty—a child’s face that had nothing left to cling to but pride. She found herself contemptible, yet her throat closed and she could say nothing more.
Ferda looked down at that child. Those eyes seemed to have dropped every emotion into the deepest reaches of a lake. Those same eyes felt as though they were dragging Ruri’s heart even deeper.
At last he nodded. Ruri swallowed regret.
“You’re right.”
This isn’t what I meant.
“I did something foolish.”
That isn’t what I was trying to say.
“Sorry for getting in the way.”
Ferda walked on again. In her vision she watched him travel the length of the corridor. Without thinking she stretched out a hand to catch him—yet he had already gone too far to reach.