Hestia and the Pitiful Beasts - Chapter 6

“Sometimes, you need ridiculous war stories to boost morale.”

“Then stop nagging me about going overboard. What? Maybe you should add a footnote saying I killed half of them myself.”

“Well… it’s likely the soldiers exaggerated their own feats and, in doing so, took a bit of credit away from you.”

“That’s impossible. There’s no one in my unit vain enough to do something like that.”

“Of course not. They’d know better than to show off in front of you, since they’d lose their heads for it.”

“What? Why would I cut off my own men’s heads?”

“Who knows? To them, getting executed might’ve seemed no different from starving or freezing to death.”

“That wasn’t my doing. They just died on their own.”

The conversation, given the grim topic, briefly made the pair forget the current situation. Their banter, which was escalating toward another argument, was interrupted—unsurprisingly—by Dente.

Or, more specifically, by the hand Dente suddenly extended toward Erei in an offer of a handshake.

“Captain Erei, it’s reassuring to know that someone like you stands by His Majesty’s side. As someone about to become his companion, that gives me great confidence.”

“……”

Erei didn’t return the handshake. Instead, he quietly lowered his gaze, staring at Dente with an unsettling intensity. Despite the silence, Dente’s chipper voice continued.

“In two days, when the wedding ceremony between His Majesty and I takes place, I’ll have the pleasure of seeing you more often. I look forward to it.”

“…Wedding.”

The moment the dreaded word left Dente’s lips, Erei’s lips curved into a faint smile—a detail that didn’t escape Lapinan’s sharp eyes. Acting quickly, Lapinan grabbed Dente by the shoulders and spun him around.

“Dente, let’s return to your quarters now…”

“No, Lapinan! I haven’t even properly greeted His Majesty’s future groom yet!”

Before Lapinan could stop him, Erei interrupted, his tone unusually composed.

“No, Lapinan. Allow him. It’s only right.”

The corners of Erei’s mouth lifted further, and though his expression appeared polite, there was an inexplicable weight behind it. Just as Lapinan found the sudden change puzzling, Erei did something completely unexpected.

He took Dente’s extended hand, sank gracefully to one knee, and clasped it firmly.

For someone who hadn’t even acknowledged a handshake earlier, this sudden display of deference was nothing short of astonishing.

“I look forward to it as well, Dente,” Erei said smoothly, his voice rich with unspoken intent. “To the day that comes in two days.”

Dente’s eyes widened in surprise at Erei’s unexpected show of deference.

“Captain Erei Lin, I’ve heard that you bow to no one but His Majesty. Is that not true?”

“As I’ve said before, rumors are prone to exaggeration.”

Erei released Dente’s hand with the same fluid, and practiced ease as if he had done it countless times. His actions carried no trace of hesitation or awkwardness. After bowing his head once more, he straightened and simply stood there, calmly watching as Lapinan and Dente prepared to leave.

“Then, I’ll see you again soon.”

“Dente, it’s really time for us to go now,” Lapinan urged, his tone edged with impatience.

Dente, however, seemed reluctant to leave, his gaze lingering on Erei as if fascinated. “Fine, fine. The chancellor is unusually pushy today.”

Finally, after much back-and-forth, the two men turned their backs on Erei and began walking away. But just as they did, a low, chilling voice rippled through the air like a whispered echo.

“Yes, you’d best be off. Before the stench of blood clings to your precious body.”

“…….”

The menace in that voice sent a cold shiver down Lapinan’s spine. Instinctively, he turned back to look, but by then, Erei was already walking in the opposite direction, casually swinging a blood-soaked sack in one hand.

Something was off.

The direction Erei was heading wasn’t toward the emperor’s palace but rather toward the military barracks—his own quarters. For someone who had rushed into the capital to deliver the head of a condemned criminal before it began to rot, it was a strange destination.

Lapinan tilted his head, puzzled, but quickly dismissed the thought. There was no time to dwell on it. At that moment, his priority wasn’t figuring out why Erei Lin was heading to the barracks instead of the palace.

What mattered more was getting the naive young heir of the Lichty family far away from that dangerous mercenary.

As the three men walked in opposite directions, an ominous shadow crept over the previously clear sky. Thick clouds gathered above, heralding a storm that seemed ready to break at any moment.

*

At some point, Erei Lin found himself thinking about Hestia whenever he was alone. He hadn’t particularly minded the feeling—like being swept up in warm water or buried in sand—so he simply let it happen.

A faint smile would surface in his mind at random moments. The smile of a woman who had learned how to hide her laughter before she had learned how to laugh openly. That smile scraped away at something inside him, uncovering desires he hadn’t even realized he possessed.

More than once a day, he was startled by the unfamiliar sensation. But by the time even that surprise had begun to feel enjoyable, he had already made up his mind.

“I’ll help you. So you can become emperor.”

Had he been impatient even then?

Her hair shimmered like it would slip right through his fingers, like the desert wind scattering sand. And her voice, sharp as ever, showed not even a sliver of trust in him.

“Why would you?”

“Hmm… Well, actually, my family has been blessed with incredibly long lifespans for generations.”

“What?”

“So I thought I’d collect some stories to tell when I’m old. And what better tale than the time I served the most stunning crown prince across the sea, whose beauty could outshine even the finest foreign dancers?”

“I could always make sure your story ends at the guillotine.”

Honestly, royalty seemed to have an unhealthy fondness for beheadings.

Erei smiled quietly as he reflected on the past three years he had spent with the woman of the Mikena imperial family. As the days piled up—equal parts monotonous and amusing—he found himself realizing something unexpected.

What had started as a simple source of entertainment had, without his notice, become something else entirely. He had begun taking on even the most tedious and uninteresting tasks—like bandit hunting—just to stay by her side.

Even when she had sent him straight into danger, he hadn’t wasted time questioning what she was planning in the background. He had only wanted to return to her as quickly as possible.

A quiet chuckle escaped his lips as he closed his eyes.

“Well… It wasn’t just recklessness that drew me in…”

Then, as he opened them again, his ice-blue gaze shimmered, as if reflecting the frozen surface of the winter sea.

Outside, the rain that had begun pouring in the afternoon had yet to let up, drenching the evening in a steady downpour. The dim room, untouched by candlelight, was bathed in moonlight breaking through the rain. The pale glow spilled onto the red carpet, leading his blue eyes once again toward the memory of a woman’s smile.

Defiant, fearless—no, perhaps just masking an underlying fragility with false bravado. Someone whose heart pounded just as wildly, despite the front she put up. Someone so delicate and beautiful that it wouldn’t have been surprising if her life had already been cut short. From the very beginning.

“……”

He sat up.

And as he finally turned toward the door, lost once more in thoughts of her, only the persistent moonlight bore witness to the smile lingering on his face.

*

“Haes.”

Three years ago.

It was during a strategy meeting held in Crown Prince Hestia’s command tent after a particularly grueling battle.

Back then, just as now, the only real advisors Hestia had were Lapinan and Erei Lin. And at the time, people still found it strange that the noble crown prince kept such a mercenary—one with no clear origins—so close at his side.

“You smell like blood. Were you injured in the last battle?”

Erei’s question came out of nowhere. Fortunately, Hestia didn’t flinch and merely continued unrolling the map in front of him.

“It’s not my blood.”

“It is your blood.”

“…….”

“Your side? No, a bit higher. The solar plexus? That must’ve hurt.”

Erei spoke with an eerily calm expression. And somehow, he managed to pinpoint the exact location of the wound, leaving both Hestia and Lapinan exchanging silent glances.

Erei spoke again.

“You should call a physician.”

“No.”

Lapinan immediately cut in, his tone sharp. It seemed Erei had been expecting that reaction, as he crossed his arms with a smirk of intrigue.

“Why? Is there some deep, dark secret under our crown prince’s armor that I’m not supposed to see?”

His teasing tone was light, but his gaze was bold—brazenly sweeping over Hestia’s chest as if he already knew the truth. Even Lapinan, who rarely lost his temper, felt his brow twitch in irritation.

“Do you ever know when to stop—”

“Enough, Lapinan.”

Hestia raised a hand, halting him. After a brief glare at Erei, Lapinan pressed his lips together tightly. Hestia, meanwhile, rolled up the map and tucked it into its case.

“Both of you, leave. I’ll handle this myself.”

“Want me to patch you up? I was actually a pretty well-known doctor once, you know.”

His casual remark rang through the tent. It was so absurd that, for once, both Hestia and Lapinan completely lost control of their expressions.

“Quit spewing nonsense and get out already.”

“You really don’t know when to quit.”

Lapinan shot him a scathing look, but Erei’s response was surprisingly unbothered—almost too nonchalant.

“Hm? Did I never mention it? I may be a mercenary by trade, but my family business is medicine. My father was relentless, so I ended up inheriting the craft pretty early on. Then one day, I snapped, ran away, and became a mercenary. That said, I suppose your point about moderation makes sense, Lapinan.”

Erei casually tilted his chin toward Lapinan, as if seeking his approval.

As he nonchalantly recounted his past, he even pulled out some kind of wooden plaque that resembled a medical license. It had words inscribed on it, but they were in a foreign language neither of them could read. Not that they had the presence of mind to scrutinize it properly, too caught off guard to process the situation.

For once, Hestia stammered.

“Th-That’s… surprising…”

“See, Haes? I’m a much greater talent than you give me credit for—”

“That brute actually has a family? I don’t believe it.”

“……If that’s what shocks you, fine. But for the record, we were actually quite a happy family.”