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“Huff, huff. Why is the groom's entrance so grueling?”
Rahan, having barely finished climbing the cliff, panted heavily. Crash—the waves slammed against the cliffside.
He was a man who had been through everything during his expedition.
However, sneaking into a monastery perched atop a cliff rising sheer from the sea was no ordinary feat.
The vast ocean and waves raged, and a fierce sea breeze blew. It was a void of a sea where even the squawking seabirds were barely visible.
It was obvious that one fall would mean instant death.
“The monk said he'd lower a rope, but 'welcome' my foot.”
Rahan gasped for air as he collapsed behind the monastery atop the cliff. Sweat poured down him.
Soon after, his adjutant, Harris, who had climbed the cliff with him, also crawled up, drenched in sweat.
“Ugh, huff, huff. I almost died.”
“Maybe dying would have been better.”
Saying so, Rahan jerked his chin backward. Harris, who had just finished the climb, looked up at the monastery with a dazed expression.
The monastery atop the cliff looked as steep and high as the cliff itself. In the highest of its bell towers, today's bride resided.
And the two of them had to climb not only the cliff but also that bell tower.
“Can't the bride just be waiting on top of the cliff? Why do we have to go all the way up the bell tower?”
“It is the custom of this region for the bride to pray to God beneath the bell of the tower until evening for a happy married life.”
“You know a lot. They say a marriage is smooth only if the bride can respect the groom. It's not too late. Why don't you just marry her?”
“If you don't want to get married, you can just throw yourself off the cliff right now.”
Yeah, if I die now, I don't have to do this marriage.
Rahan chuckled at Harris's biting joke.
“Is that all you have to say? No words of comfort or anything?”
“Hmm. Riet did have something she wanted me to tell you.”
“What is it?”
What could Riet—the number one most useless subordinate in the Grand Duchy of Lacheize—possibly want to say?
He wasn't particularly curious, but right now, he needed even a shred of comfort. At Rahan's question, Harris shrugged.
“She said if the situation feels like absolute shit, you should think, 'Is it because I'm just too cute?'”
“Is it because I'm too cute that I have to endure hearing shit like that?”
Rahan Norwich was a man who never lost his sense of humor even in the fiercest battles of the expedition. Harris laughed weakly while lying flat on the ground.
It was then.
“Hey! You there!”
A young monk came running breathlessly from the back door of the monastery. Rahan clicked his tongue.
“I am Rahan Norwich.”
Saying so, he handed over the mark of Eridrahan he had received from the Grand Duke.
The monk took it and checked the back. The name of Abbot Wilbert would be engraved there.
“Confirmed. Thank you for your hard work. I'm so sorry I'm late…”
Even as he spoke, the monk kept glancing over. He seemed curious about the face of the 'child of a demon' he had only heard about. Rahan gave a smirk.
“Are you Priest Marid?”
“Ah, yes. That name represents this humble servant of Eridrahan.”
Priest Marid lightly interlaced his thumbs, showing the cross shape of Eridrahan.
Seeing him maintain etiquette toward God even in this situation, he did seem to be a priest.
He's not giving me a moment's rest. Rahan asked as he stood up.
“We don't have time, so let's move quickly. Where is the bride?”
“Ah, she is beneath that bell tower. I cannot accompany you, so…”
Priest Marid pointed toward the bell tower. Rahan walked away without answering. He had already delayed too long.
As he strode forward with his long legs, he noticed the monastery was quiet and devoid of people. Everyone seemed to be in the wheat fields for the wedding preparations.
It was fortunate that there was nothing in his way.
“Wait a moment!”
As he continued walking, Priest Marid chased after him. When Rahan turned around to see what it was, the young priest, his eyes now brimming with tears, grabbed Rahan's arm and spoke.
“Sir Norwich, please take good care of her. Our Iris is a good child.”
I've seen everything now.
Unable to answer that way, Rahan simply raised an eyebrow. He wasn't the kind of tender-hearted person to offer comfort in response to such words.
Harris patted the priest's shoulder instead.
“We will treat her with the utmost care, so please do not worry…”
“What do you mean 'utmost care'? How can a kidnapping be 'careful'?”
Ultimately blurting it out was Rahan's bad habit.
Harris glared at him, but Rahan didn't budge. Priest Marid, who had been about to stop crying, had his eyes well up again before they narrowed into slits.
That look felt as if it were saying, 'As if anyone would want Iris to be with a guy like you?' It probably wasn't far off.
“I'll be better than some bald old monk, so Priest, just clear the ropes and head on down.”
Rahan spoke crookedly and turned away.
“I'm sorry.”
Harris, after apologizing to the priest, hurriedly caught up.
“Seriously!”
“What. The ones who called us because they hate the old monk are over there. Then they have to deal with it. I'm the one who's about to be hitched overnight.”
Rahan replied bluntly as he entered the old, grey bell tower.
He wasn't wrong. It had only been two years since the expedition ended. Just as he was starting to get some decent sleep at night, some noble house tells him to take their lost daughter and marry her.
Who on earth would welcome this?
“Indeed, who lives their life so recklessly? You should have moderated your infamy.”
Harris, climbing the tower behind him, clicked his tongue. Rahan shrugged.
“Did I think this would happen?”
Harris sighed. It wasn't that he didn't guess why his superior had lived that way.
Wouldn't it be stranger if a man abandoned from birth had lived a faithful and smooth life?
Before they knew it, they were at the top of the bell tower.
“Sigh, I just feel sorry for the lady who has to marry you.”
“Unless you're the one marrying her, shut it.”
Rahan had no intention of wasting time. He flung open the door to the top room.
Inside, as expected.
“!”
A lady wearing a veil was standing up awkwardly, looking toward them.
Her shimmering silver hair was just as he had heard. But further confirmation was needed. Rahan approached her directly and spoke.
“Iris Achen?”
“…That's right…”
A small, intimidated voice answered. Rahan snorted and spoke brusquely.
“Let me check your face.”
Lifting the bride's veil before the wedding was a privilege reserved only for the groom. Rahan didn't care.
Because, damn it, he was her groom.
The man immediately reached out and lifted the veil. Then, he flinched.
“Ah.”
The daughter of Licht Ahen, Iris Achen.
More striking than her cheeks, red as ripe apples, or her long silver hair flowing like waves, were her eyes, which looked like tender new sprouts.
Spring was there.
Even so, carrying a whole woman on his back and climbing down the cliff was an enormous strain.
Rahan and Harris panted as they set down the sack on their backs.
There was a thud. And a soft moan of “Ah.”
Harris glared at Rahan.
“You should have controlled your strength.”
“Weren't you the one who couldn't control yours?”
“I'm sorry, my lady. My superior is a bit dim-witted.”
Harris apologized to the sack with a playful tone. It was just as Rahan was glaring at Harris.
“I'm okay…”
He hadn't expected an answer, but unexpectedly, a muffled voice came from inside the sack.
Harris and Rahan paused for a moment, then looked at each other and let out hollow laughs.
Vandel, the lower village not far from the monastery.
The two of them had just returned to the largest inn there.
The innkeeper looked at the two men, who had returned in the afternoon carrying a sack, with a very suspicious expression.
It was a look that seemed to ask, 'You didn't bring back a corpse, did you?'
Even so, since they were guests who had been staying in the best room of the inn for several days, he seemed to just watch without kicking them out.
Harris kept fanning himself with his hand.
“Ugh, it's so hot. I thought I was going to die. We can't open the window, can we?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
Although it was the largest and best room in the inn, it was in the countryside, so there were inevitably shabby parts.
Moreover, with two large, sweating men sitting inside, it was inevitable that the air in the room would become stuffy.
Rahan gestured with one hand, lifting the front of his shirt.
“Open the sack.”
“Yes, yes. Now, let's see. Please come out, my lady. You've worked hard.”
Harris hurriedly untied the string of the sack.
Since it had to fit a whole person and be suitable for transport, the sack was coarse and the string was thick. The person inside likely hadn't had a comfortable journey.
“Ego.”
With a small voice, a slender arm first slid out.
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