You Should Never Have Given Her to Me

"Surely the heroes of the Tatar campaign aren't too frightened of a mere forty knights to open the gates."

Odin's sneer set the knights stirring. Naz's gaze slid to the red-haired youth dozing at the very back of the ranks.

"Hey, mage. They might cast something from out there..."

The red-haired mage blinked and peered down beyond the wall. Following Naz's line of sight, he found a black-haired beauty mounted beside a man built like a giant.

When their eyes met, the woman smiled, bright and easy, and waved a hand through the empty air. The mage spat a curse through his teeth and ripped through an incantation at lightning speed.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

A tremendous roar split the sky as two vast sheets of flame slammed into each other. From a heaven already sinking toward dark, enormous fire came pouring down.

"Nock arrows!"

Naz, who had been staring up in sheer disbelief, shouted to the guards along the battlements. As one, they leveled their bows at the enemy outside the walls.

"What? They have a mage?"

"Commander, we have to call every knight in, right now!"

That was when a trumpet announcing the lord's return rang out on every side.

"His Grace has returned!"

The knights murmuring within the castle and the men swaggering beyond it all fell silent together. Far across the plain, black riders thundering as a single mass drew steadily nearer.

"What in the world is all this commotion?"

Ilya, who had reached the gate in a heartbeat, drew back his hood. Eyes slanted sharp with severity raked over the intruders, and the knights at his back fixed them with stares every bit as cold.

The thick reek of blood rising from men fresh off a monster hunt drained the color from every face outside the walls.

"Who are you?"

At that frigid voice, the man on the white horse slowly urged his mount forward. He dismounted, dropped to one knee in the dirt, and bowed.

"It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace. I am Odin Mardus, heir to the Marquisate of Mardus. Belated though it is, allow me to congratulate you on succeeding to the archducal seat."

A wire-tight tension coiled through the air.

A moment later Ilya swung lightly down from the saddle, caught the hand of the man still kneeling, and drew him to his feet. Looking down into eyes the same sprout-green as his wife's, he smiled.

"Sir Odin—or should I say brother-in-law? Either way, welcome to the Azantis Archduchy."

At that unexpected welcome, the men in clerical robes looked distinctly put out.

"Sir Odin is my wife's only full brother, is he not? I have been far too indifferent until now."

Ilya laughed, open and hearty, and offered his hand. After a brief hesitation, Odin took it.

When Ilya did not let go, a flicker of dismay crossed Odin's face.

"And yet I hear the reason my brother-in-law has come all this way in person is to take my beloved wife away with him... Is that true?"

The voice, honey-sweet a moment before, went cold in an instant.

"It is. I have come to take back what belongs to Mardus."

Shing. At the name Mardus, the knights of the Black Forest drew as one and closed around the two men. On the wall above, the guards leveled their arrows again. Odin's knights ripped their own blades free in answer.

Ilya yanked hard on the hand he still held. Monstrous strength dragged Odin helplessly forward, until they stood close enough to feel each other's breath. Ilya whispered.

"......!"

The moment Ilya showed his true face, Odin's own crumpled. Ilya swung back into the saddle and gave an order to the guard beside him.

"Open the gates."

Iron groaned. The gates swung wide, and the knights, Ilya at their head, drove their horses through. Turning in the saddle of his galloping mount, he called back.

"While you're staying in the north, let's get properly acquainted, brother-in-law."

Those spellbinding blue-gray eyes curved, soft as anything, as they watched the Mardus banner snap in the wind.

The moment Ilya stepped into the bedchamber, he flung off his heavy robe. The armor cinched tight around his body came next, set down on the table, and the maids filling the tub with hot water flushed scarlet at the sight of him.

"I don't need anyone to attend my bath. All of you, withdraw."

"Yes, Your Grace."

He peeled away the clothes ruined by blood, sweat, and dust, layer after layer, and stepped into the water. Droplets falling from his hair brought that night back to him.

"Two whales."

Remembering the woman who had come out with something so absurd, he let out a short laugh. Over her bright, sunlit face the arrogant man's features laid themselves. What belongs to Mardus... Eyes that had gone languid and loose turned savage again.

He slowly surrendered himself to the warm water. The head resting against the rim sank little by little beneath the surface. Watching clear droplets gather and scatter, he felt his eyelids grow heavy.

"You planning to stay under there?"

At the familiar voice, Ilya's eyes flew open underwater. A heartbeat later the door banged wide and someone came running in.

"His Grace is bathing right now! Have you no sense of what's proper between men and women?"

"Oh, please—what man? I used to bathe the both of you when you were little."

"This woman is going to get us all killed, talking like that! As if casting a cleaning spell a few times counts for anything!"

Haah. Surfacing, Ilya let out a long sigh. Any hope of a leisurely soak had already been a lost cause from the moment those two appeared.

"I'll get dressed. We'll talk out there."

"Oh, I'm perfectly happy with you like this. Let me feast my eyes a little too."

"What on earth are you saying!"

A short while later they had moved to the reception room and sat facing one another across a tea table. Ilya looked at Renee's sullen face with eyes gone soft with old feeling, and poured her tea himself.

"Renee. It really has been a long time."

Renee answered as she heaped lump after lump of sugar into her cup.

"Mm. Last time was in Tatar... so it's been more than a year."

Renee. Born a slave, she had no family name. She was the mage who had guarded Azantis Castle since the days of Ilya's father, and her laboratory had been the playground of a young Ilya and Naz—until fifteen years ago, when she vanished without a word.

"Both of you have grown up so tall and handsome. Even cleaner-cut than you were a year ago."

"Look who's talking. Having the exact same face as the first time I saw you is a scam!"

The voluptuous beauty with glossy black hair falling to her waist looked no older than Ilya and Naz.

"Our knight-commander has even learned to sweet-talk a woman. My, how you've grown."

"Renee, enough of the jokes. Why did you come with Odin Mardus?"

Ilya had cut straight through the middle of their bickering.

"I slipped in because there was something I needed to find out. On their side they think I'm a mercenary mage."

"And did you learn what you were after?"

"No. Not yet."

Ilya studied her face, lost in thought. After disappearing like that, Renee—whom they had believed dead—had suddenly appeared in Tatar, in the days when Ilya and Naz, their comrades lost to Mardus's betrayal, were sunk in grief.

Renee had returned at once to the Archduchy, raised a secret intelligence organization, and begun to move on her own.

"Renee, why did you choose me as your master? You would have done better going straight to Nasser."

Renee puffed out her cheeks and answered, short and blunt.

"Where else but you, young master, would put a woman like me in charge?"

"Fair enough. I have been a rather impressive specimen since I was little."

Ilya took a sip of wine and smiled. Renee regarded him with an odd look.

"By the way, the whole empire's been burning up lately on account of Your Grace."

A hairline crack appeared between Ilya's brows.

"Word is you've fallen for that pretty wife of yours, belatedly. Is it true?"

"......"

"Your Grace, I want to go pay my respects to the lady."

"I forbid it."

Renee was not the least bit cowed by a refusal sharp as a blade. In a bright voice she said,

"I sent a gift to my darling lady. I wonder if it's arrived by now?"

Seized by a sense of foreboding, the two men clutched their heads.

Haah. Evelynn gazed out the window and sighed for what must have been the hundredth time. Ever since the trumpet announcing the lord's return, she had been like this. He's back... A whole week in the mountains—he must be exhausted. Will he come here tonight...? Ah, what am I supposed to do. She shook her head hard, as if she could fling the useless thoughts away.

"My lady, they say your brother has arrived before the gates with his knights."

"...Already? He's here?"

At Arthurs's words, the color drained from Evelynn's face.

That was when something heavy struck the window with a thud. Certain it was an assassin, Arthurs drew his sword.

"Open the window!"

A huge bird slammed its head against the glass, squawking at the top of its lungs.

"Heavens! The bird... it's talking!"

Sophie, who had been feeding Liber a snack, started so badly she dropped the bowl and spoon. Liber, mouth stretched wide like a baby bird to take the treat, went round-eyed.

"Ah. What Lady Renee mentioned..."

Arthurs stepped forward and opened the window. The bird in question flew straight for Evelynn. Human speech came again from that bright yellow beak, and Evelynn, startled, scooted backward on her seat.

"My master told me to come here."

The talking bird was enormous, and fierce. When it spread both wings it towered well past Evelynn's height. Brown feathers shot through with black covered its body; only the head and tail were white. The sharply hooked beak and the feet were a vivid yellow.

"Your... master?"

"A great mage is my master."

At the words great mage, Arthurs shrugged. For the sake of a thoroughly bewildered Evelynn, he explained.

"Lady Renee, the mage of the archducal castle, said she would send an escort knight. Seems this eagle is it."