Chapter: 07
Dennis thought that if he did not say it now, he might never have another chance.
“Commander, do you happen to remember the Founding Day banquet thirteen years ago?”
“……”
Servante turned around, exhaling a puff of cigar smoke. Why was Dennis asking whether he remembered the Founding Day celebration at a time like this? He could not even begin to guess Dennis’s intentions. Rather, he felt offended, as though Dennis were making fun of him.
“I remember attending it.”
“Do you also remember helping me?”
“I… helped you?”
That meant he had met Dennis thirteen years ago…. Servante was not the sort of person to remember trivial matters, so he could not recall the details.
“You helped us, Commander.”
“I did?”
“Yes. I was very young at the time, and everything was so hectic that I never got the chance to thank you.”
Servante carefully mulled over Dennis’s words. Back then, he had attended the Founding Day banquet simply because, in his youthful excitement, he had heard that he might be able to meet Count Vertir. He was the Golden Marksman, a man of outstanding character whom Servante had always admired.
And yet, apparently, he had once helped his son, Dennis….
His memories from that time were almost entirely occupied with searching for Count Vertir. Of course, he remembered how happy he had been when he finally met him.
Meanwhile, Dennis gave a hollow smile when he realized that Servante did not remember. To Servante, it must have been something so insignificant that it was not even worth remembering.
Moreover, Dennis’s father had never attended another social gathering after the Founding Day celebration. As a result, quite a few people did not even know that he had twins. And even among those who did, very few knew for certain that they were fraternal twins.
“Back then, and ever since, I have been nothing but grateful to you, Commander.”
Dennis conveyed his final sincere words to Servante before leaving the office. He had entered Servante’s life with a great commotion, yet when he disappeared, he evaporated like water vapor, leaving not even a trace behind.
Servante simply stared at the door Dennis had walked through for a very long time.
Perhaps he had been mistaken, but for a fleeting moment, he thought Dennis’s green eyes had glistened with tears. Even afterward, whenever he turned from the window toward the door, he sometimes had the illusion that Dennis was standing there.
‘If parting is a part of life, then there is no point in blaming anyone for it.’
Servante decided to accept it that way. But perhaps life was not something that always went according to one’s wishes.
It had been only a week since Dennis had left the military, yet Bartel, Lauro, and Gael were suffering from a profound sense of loss. Where had all that blustering gone when they had been snorting like bulls, claiming that Dennis had stolen the princess from them? Perhaps they were simply saddened by his absence, because all of them openly displayed their gloom.
It was probably because of the final letter Dennis had left them. It had been filled with sincere respect and gratitude, but the truth was that they had never hated Dennis in the first place.
“That Dennis bastard. Just wait until I see him again. When I do, I’ll really—”
Bartel started snorting again, but his voice trailed off.
“You’ll really… what?”
“I’ll apologize. I’ll tell him I’m sorry for getting angry.”
“Exactly. It’s not as though love is a crime.”
“The princess even made an official statement. She said it was a love that had lasted thirteen years.”
Because of that, Servante’s marriage to the princess had been put on hold. Before long, the adjutants’ conversation shifted from Dennis to Servante.
After Dennis left the military, Servante immersed himself entirely in work. At the same time, all sorts of problems caused by Dennis’s absence began appearing here and there.
“Dennis, bring me a cup of tea.”
Servante had been looking over military documents as usual. When his throat grew dry and he desperately wanted some tea, he unconsciously called for Dennis. Naturally, only emptiness lingered in his office…. There was no trace of Dennis anywhere.
‘Habits really are frightening.’
Servante tossed his pen onto the desk and pushed his chair back as far as it would go.
Only now did he realize that the things he had taken for granted had never been insignificant at all. But even complaining about that felt like an indulgence when work kept piling up without end, as though scolding him for his useless thoughts.
“Commander, the infantry on the northern front has sent a request for food supplies, but we received a complaint that they never got a reply.”
Gael reported as he presented the documents one after another.
“Who was in charge?”
“Captain Dennis.”
“Did he fail to hand everything over properly?”
“He did. But the person who took over already had too much work…. I think they overlooked it.”
“You handle it, and discipline the person in charge.”
That was not the end of it. Outdated military maps, records of the Sekari battle, weapons inventory reports. Other documents piled up like a mountain, and because reports and processing were no longer handled smoothly, mistakes became frequent.
Among them was an incident in which Servante ordered a retreat because the western border infantry could not handle a band of raiders preying on them, only for the messenger to deliver the order to the wrong location, resulting in enormous losses.
In a state of panic, Servante worked overtime with his adjutants for several days and nights to correct every mistake.
“Dennis handled all of this by himself….”
“And he didn’t make a single mistake.”
“What good is a proper handover when the successor is an idiot?”
As his adjutants groaned under the excessive workload, Servante suddenly became disgusted with his own job. He had never once regretted becoming a soldier, yet all of a sudden, he felt sick of it.
‘This is… boring.’
It had already been almost a year since Dennis had left the military and returned to his estate, Marina.
For a while, it had been difficult to recover from the emptiness he felt, but he was grateful that he had safely returned to his old life. The person who had pulled Dennis out of his wandering state was Dan.
He had worked tirelessly for three years to regain his health, and now there was no longer any sign of his former frailty. He had also repaired his relationship with the princess and frequently visited the capital, Calvion. Thus, Dennis did not regret a single moment of the three years he had devoted to the military.
Now, all that remained was….
‘I have to live my old life again.’
Narrow skirts that made it difficult even to walk and frilly blouses that seemed to hang everywhere were obstacles to that life.
“Don’t we have any pants, Misha?”
“No, we don’t. Now turn around.”
Dennis’s maid, Misha, answered firmly before fastening the buttons at her mistress’s waist. That was not all. Every morning, she used a heated iron rod to curl her mistress’s hair round and round like a croissant.
It would have been nice if that were the end of it, but she had to spend a full hour applying makeup as well.
“Do I really have to dress up when I’m at home?”
“You never received any lessons in becoming a proper lady, miss.”
Misha answered while frantically rummaging through the pile of clothes heaped on the bed.
“I suppose even being a lady requires a certain aptitude, Misha.”
“Oh, come on. Why would you need any aptitude to play the piano, take etiquette lessons, learn to dance, and attend tea parties? Compared to a battlefield where bullets are flying everywhere, it’s—ugh…!”
Misha shuddered in disgust, but Dennis desperately missed the days when he had fought on the battlefield. Moreover, the days he had spent right beside Servante now felt like a dream.
Even after spending a full year back home, Dennis had never once managed to drive Servante from his mind. After leaving his side, her entire life had become filled with longing for one man.
The last news she had heard was that Servante had temporarily left the military to focus on matters concerning his family.
‘Commander Servante de Rojas… No, I suppose he’s a duke now.’
Dennis realized that the young countess reflected in the mirror was not happy at all.
Meanwhile, Servante had left the ducal residence for the first time in a long while and headed to Avenue Street to inspect the buildings owned by his family. The buildings he owned in the heart of the capital, Calvion, housed banks, trading companies, shops, and various other businesses. He got out of his car and visited each building to inspect its facilities.
At that moment, his secretary, Martin, spoke in an excited tone.
“Your Grace, a very famous chef has opened a restaurant on the first floor. Apparently, he used to be a royal chef.”
“I should take a look.”
Servante followed his secretary’s guidance to the restaurant. As expected, it was a high-end establishment where only members of the upper class could afford to dine.
“This is the place even the Sultan of Harman visited.”
“What?”
Only a year ago, they had been trying to kill each other in a bloody war. International affairs had changed so rapidly that the saying there were no eternal enemies or friends seemed perfectly fitting.
Servante greeted the restaurant owner and was looking around when he suddenly spotted a man and woman sitting in a secluded area some distance away.
He knew the pair enjoying their meal all too well. One of them was Princess Katarina, whom he had nearly married, while the man sitting across from her was….
‘Dennis?’
For the first time in a very long while, a spark appeared in Servante’s black eyes.
