Leading the pack was Alan, followed closely by the blonde-haired Giusto and the man with the bowl cut, Mush.

Behind them were a crowd of unfamiliar faces, wicked-looking men brandishing metal clubs and small knives—clearly spoiling for a fight. Seeing the weapons in their hands sent a shiver down Chloe’s spine.

“Are you okay?” asked Lloyd.

“Y-Yes, somehow…”

So far there were no flashbacks and no palpitations; the men were still at a fair distance, and the weapons were yet obscured under the dim moonlight. Perhaps her midnight training sessions, too, had inoculated her slightly.

Alan glared at Lloyd with disdain. “Remember me, Mister Lloyd?”

“You’re back—and with help. Not very subtle of you.”

“Subtle? Who gives a rat’s ass about bein’ subtle?! All I care about is getting to beat yer ass down, you punk!” Alan roared, spittle flying from his mouth. “Do you know how much shit I had to shovel, how much coin I had to spend on intel and manpower, how much time I spent staking you out to get you here? Huh?!”

“I don’t care about any of that, but… I see. So it was you that had the South District all riled up.”

Twelve more men stood behind the leading trio, bringing the total to fifteen. It was unclear where and how they managed to scrounge up such a formidable fighting force, but it was apparent they resented Lloyd enough to put in the effort to do so. As a knight, Lloyd was no stranger to making enemies—it came with the job. But he had never faced such a tenacious band of thugs before.

Alan spread his arms wide, like a proud military leader displaying his forces. “Heard you were some hot shot knight, so I had to hire some help. Hope you don’t mind…”

In the face of so many hostile presences, Chloe looked up at Lloyd with unease. “Lloyd…”

“Don’t worry.” He struck out a hand in front of Chloe, signaling his intent to protect her. “How fast can you run?”

“Um… Faster than most?”

Lloyd hummed in thought.

“Hey! Pipe down over there and listen up! I’m giving you two choices!” Alan raised two fingers. “The first choice is you resist, and we beat you to death. As for the second…” Alan’s face curved into a broad, toothy leer, his gaze shifting to Chloe. “The second choice is you hand over the girl—peacefully—and in exchange, we beat you until you only wish you were dead.”

Chloe whimpered and took a step behind Lloyd, who clenched his fists tight.

“Now, what’s it gonna be?”

“Neither.” In a single, swift motion, Lloyd scooped Chloe up in a princess carry; his clear, resonant voice boomed across the park. “I choose to send each and every one of you to hell. Then I’m going home with her.”

The pale blue vein in Alan’s temple bulged in rage. “You got some nerve kid… Boys, you heard ’im! Bring me back his head on a—”

Before he could finish, Lloyd spun around and sprinted away. Momentarily speechless, Alan shook off his surprise and barked at his men, “Well don’t just stand there! After ’em!” at which the men rallied behind Alan and broke out into a stampede.

As they pursued, Lloyd raced ahead, carrying Chloe at a remarkable speed.

“Lloyd?! Where are you—?!”

“They’ve blocked off the entrance. If we try to escape, it’ll only cause unnecessary collateral damage. I’m going to let you down there; this is where we make our stand,” said Lloyd, his breathing steady and composed.

He brought Chloe to one of the park’s four corners and set her down. Here, in Lloyd’s tactical mind, he could easily defend her.

“Stay here, and whatever you do, do not shut your eyes. If I let one slip past and you see one coming after you, yell as loud as you can.”

Chloe looked up at Lloyd, her eyes swimming with worry. “B-But…”

Lloyd clasped Chloe’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not new to fighting outnumbered.” He reached into the bag Sara had gifted them and pulled out an onion and a potato. “But…on the off-chance the unthinkable happens—I’m sorry, but run away as fast as you can.”

Without giving pause, Lloyd turned around.

“Lloyd!!!”

Ignoring Chloe’s cries, he charged headlong towards the rapidly approaching mob.

◇◇◇

As Lloyd hurled himself towards the oncoming attackers, his mind raced, rapidly analyzing the situation and his surroundings. The likelihood of protecting himself and Chloe while defeating fifteen armed thugs, while being unarmed himself, was…

Fifty percent?

If Lloyd were able to maneuver freely, he had no doubt he could effortlessly rout this pitiful band. But in this particular engagement, not all factors were in his favor; the wide-open park offered little in the way of cover, and this time, the stakes were different—he had to keep Chloe safe, first and foremost. Despite his experience and exceptional battle prowess, the uncertainties and unique challenges of the situation weighed his chance of success down.

No matter. I just have to do what I can.

Lloyd was a professional soldier and seasoned fighter. His adversaries were an unruly gang of thugs, likely lacking any formal training. If he could scatter them and force one-on-one engagements, victory would be his. He strained his mind in assessment of the situation. He needed to consider the build, weapon, and attack pattern of each foe to devise the best strategy.

His first opponent charged towards him. With a snap of his wrist, Lloyd flung the potato at the man.

Catching a tuber to the face, the man cried out in pain. Before he could react, Lloyd followed up with a swift kick arcing into his groin.

An ungodly sound escaped the man’s lips. His eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled to the ground.

One down.

“Hyaaah!” Next up was Mush. The mushroom-haired man rushed at Lloyd, wooden club in hand.

Unfazed, Lloyd unleashed his remaining projectile, striking Mush squarely between his eyes.

“Aghhh! Another onion?! How?! Why?!” Mush collapsed, clutching his face and writhing in pain.

If Lloyd had known the trauma he had inflicted on the poor man from their previous altercation, he might have shown mercy. Sadly for Mush, fate did not will it so.

Two down.

“Hahhh!”

“Yaaargh!”

Next came a coordinated assault from two men, one wielding a metal club, the other relying on his fists.

Lloyd closed the distance between himself and the club-wielding man, slipping beneath his reach. He dropped low before springing upwards, landing a devastating uppercut to the man’s chin.

“Ack!” the man cried, losing his grip on the club.

Snatching the airborne weapon, Lloyd spun around and thrust it at the second assailant, intercepting his incoming fists.

The man yelped in pain, withdrawing his hands to inspect them. In doing so, he took his eyes off the metal club that now swung at his neck. With a heavy thud and a muffled groan, he crumpled to the ground.

Catching a break in the action, Lloyd jerked his head around to check on Chloe. She gazed back at him, her eyes brimming with worry, but there was no sign of danger near her; it seemed none of the thugs had slipped past him.

Reassured, Lloyd turned around to catch another man on the approach. Without a second’s hesitation, he flung the club at the man—opting to use it as a projectile rather than wield the clunky, unfamiliar weapon. Catching a club to the shins, the man yelped and fell to the ground.

That was five down. Discounting the chance that some of the downed men might recover and rejoin the fight, ten opponents remained.

With that in mind, Lloyd once again dove headfirst into the fray.

◇◇◇

“My…goodness…”

Chloe watched in disbelief as the scene before her spiraled into pandemonium. A relentless stream of thugs charged at Lloyd, only to be expertly dispatched and cast aside one by one.

In the blink of an eye, five men lay face down in the dirt.

Impressive, but… Why isn’t Lloyd using his sword?

Was it because he was confident he could defeat them without it? Or was it because…

“…Of me?”

Chloe felt the blood drain from her face. She glanced at Lloyd’s sheathed sword as it swung about on his hip. Lloyd was choosing to fight barehanded; an act driven not by his capability, but by a deep-seated concern for Chloe’s well-being. This was the only explanation that made sense to her.

Chloe’s heart sank, and a sharp pang of guilt stabbed at her chest.

“Quit going in one by one! Group up and finish him off!” The blond-haired Giusto yelled.

The remaining men exchanged glances and nods before forming up and charging at Lloyd.

Lloyd let out a strained grunt, his brow furrowing. Fighting off multiple enemies simultaneously was far more exhausting than taking them on one at a time. Moreover, he’d been fighting in a fixed position, attempting to maintain a buffer zone between him and Chloe. His opponents would surely start to box him in. If only he could use his sword, the situation might not be so dire.

“What’s wrong, Lloyd?! Not gonna use yer precious sword?!” Alan cackled as he rushed towards Lloyd, brandishing a large saber.

As Lloyd’s composure began to waver, Chloe gritted her teeth in frustration.

This is all my fault! It-It’s me! I’m the problem! Before the sight of the saber could trigger any trauma, such were the thoughts that raced through Chloe’s mind.

Lloyd was out there risking his life, and here she was doing nothing.

No, she was doing less than nothing. She was actively holding him back.

What are you doing, Chloe?! Didn’t you say you wanted to protect him? To be there for him? You’re doing a real great job of that right now, aren’t you?! How is this helping him in any way?! Trauma…? “Does that really matter right now?!”

Chloe summoned the whole of her vigor, clenching her fists tight. Even as the fetters of the past threatened to chain her down and condemn her to inaction, she fought them off through sheer force of will.

She no longer cared what happened to her.

She just couldn’t bear to see Lloyd get hurt…or worse.

Lloyd was now undeniably on the back foot. He had done his best to disarm and incapacitate as many foes as possible, but by now, the enemies he had taken down at the beginning of the melee were starting to rise again.

As the oncoming human wave cornered Lloyd, Alan raised his saber and swung down at him. “I got you now, you bastard!”

Lloyd shifted to the side just in time, narrowly escaping a grisly end, but was now pinned down completely.

Alan readied his saber for the coup de grâce when suddenly—

“Lloyd!” Chloe’s voice rang out across the battlefield. “Take up your sword!”

Lloyd spun his head around. Their eyes met.

He gave her a look that clearly meant are you sure?

Without a sliver of indecision, Chloe screamed at the top of her lungs, “Yes—I’ll be fine!”

“Die, Lloyd!”

The saber once again plummeted towards Lloyd’s head.

SHING—CLANG!

The crystalline sound of an unsheathing sword and the thunderous clash of metal on metal reverberated throughout the park.

Fending off Alan’s saber with his own, Lloyd turned around to look at Chloe, saying “Thank you for your bravery,” before a shockwave burst forth from him, engulfing his surroundings in a gale-force wind.

“Wh-Whoa!” Thrown off balance by the force of Lloyd’s parry, Alan staggered back several steps.

With his weapon of choice now unleashed, fear struck the hearts of the remaining thugs. The long, slender blade glimmered softly under the pale moon’s glow.

Though his sword was now out in full view, Chloe did not avert her gaze, and yet, there were no palpitations or flashbacks. In fact, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Lloyd—there he was, sword in hand, poised and at the ready: her knight in shining armor. The blade wielded to protect her, oh how brilliant did it shine.

A wave of hesitation washed over the thugs as the sheer presence and authority emanating from Lloyd overwhelmed them.

“What are you all afraid of?! He’s just one man! We still got numbers on our—”

Before Alan could finish his sentence, Lloyd lunged towards the group of thugs, his form a blur.

It was over in the blink of an eye.

“Gah!”

“Ack!”

With yelps of pain, they collapsed, one after the next.

“Wh-What’s happening?! What the hell is going on?!” Before he realized what had happened, Alan was the last man standing.

His entire team lay on the ground. They suddenly clutched at their legs, screaming and howling in agony as if the pain had only just caught up with them—Lloyd had deftly inflicted non-lethal but incapacitating injuries, slicing open Achilles, hamstrings, and other tendons. There had been no time for them to react or counter—it was complete and utter domination.

“You still have what on your side?” Lloyd asked, now standing in front of Alan.

“Th-That’s impossible…” Alan couldn’t believe his eyes. Had the evidence not been right in front of him, he would have never accepted it.

“I’m going to give you two choices.” Lloyd raised two fingers in a mocking manner. “The first choice is you surrender peacefully and let the guards take you in. Or—you resist, and I beat you until you only wish you were dead.” Lloyd’s voice dripped with cold indifference. “Pick one.”

“You…you little shit…” Alan’s fighting spirit still smoldered. The man before him had humiliated him not once, but twice now. The first time he was caught off guard, but the second time, he had bided his time, gathered his forces, set up a perfect ambush, and still came up short.

Channeling his last shred of pride, Alan let his rage consume him. “Don’t fuck with me!” In a frantic, clumsy attempt, he swung his saber at Lloyd, but such a haphazard attack stood no chance of finding its mark.

“How foolish.” As if swatting away a fly, Lloyd effortlessly batted the saber out of Alan’s hand.

With a sharp cry, Alan clutched his hand and toppled backwards, hitting the ground hard as the gleaming point of Lloyd’s sword loomed over him. He looked up to see Lloyd glaring down at him, his eyes seething with ferocity. Alan’s heart ran cold, and he squealed in fear. “I-I’m sorry! Please! Forgive me! I-I’m gone! You’ll never see me again! D-Do you want money? Here! Take it—take it!”

“You really think that’ll work? Tell me: if I had apologized earlier, would you have let us go?”

Alan choked on his words.

“I was going to spare you, but I’ve changed my mind.” Lloyd’s voice seethed with atypical rage. “You tried to hurt someone very important to me, and for that, you’ll pay.”

Lloyd lifted his sword high above his head.

“S-Somebody, help!!!”

“Suffer the consequences.”

CLONK.

The dull, hollow sound of Lloyd’s sword—the flat side striking Alan’s head—rang out into the night. Losing consciousness, Alan slumped over and collapsed.

“Though I wish I could deliver you to hell myself, I am but a knight, and personal vengeance is not our way.”

Alan lay supine, limbs twitching, sprawled on the cold earth.

With all opponents accounted for, Lloyd exhaled deeply and sheathed his sword.

He strode past Alan, retrieving the spent potato and onion, and headed towards Chloe.

“Lloyd!” At the same time, Chloe rushed to meet him, her face stained with anxious tears.

“Sorry, that took a while—oomph!”

Chloe flung her arms around Lloyd’s torso. “Are you okay? Are you injured anywhere?! Show me where it hurts!”

“Relax,” Lloyd said, gently peeling Chloe from him. “I’m fine. No major injuries to speak of.”

A deep sigh of relief escaped Chloe’s lips, and her voice quavered with emotion. “Th-Thank goodness. You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.”

Touched by her genuine concern for his well-being, Lloyd felt warmth blossom in his chest. “Sorry for making you worry.”

“No—no please. I’m just so glad you’re okay…” Chloe offered a shaky laugh and shook her head.

Stirred, Lloyd surrendered himself to the urge within and pulled Chloe into a tight embrace, catching her by surprise. Her shoulders twitched once, before she relaxed completely and returned the gesture, her arms encircling his back, as if to confirm his presence.

Out of all my near brushes with death, have I ever felt this grateful to be alive before…? thought Lloyd as he held Chloe in his arms.

“Halt!”

“What the hell’s going on here?!”

Their tender moment was interrupted by the arrival of a third party—city guards, by the looks of things, no doubt alerted by concerned residents. Spotting Chloe and Lloyd in a corner of the park, they rushed towards them—the two of them would surely be taken in for questioning.

“Looks like you won’t be able to go home just yet. Sorry.”

“That’s fine with me,” said Chloe, her arms still wrapped around Lloyd. “You’ll be right there with me, after all.”

Lloyd gazed down at Chloe’s soft smile—her face was so close. His breath caught in his throat, and on reflex, he averted his gaze.

◇◇◇

“And what of today? Still nothing?”

“…No, milady. Please…accept my sincerest apologies.”

The head maid of the Ardennes’ estate prostrated herself in front of Isabella, uttering a few words in apology. Her head kissed the ground and her body trembled in fear.

“Honestly. What else can I say that hasn’t already been said? Your incompetence never ceases to amaze.”

“M-Milady, with all due respect… We’ve searched everywhere, questioned everyone—we haven’t a single lead to pursue! I beg you to consider the possibility that she is no longer here!”

A month had passed since Chloe’s disappearance. At this point, even Isabella would have no choice but to carefully consider the head maid’s words.

The Ardennes’ domain was a valley basin flanked on all sides by mountain ranges. On top of that, it was winter. The journey to the outlying plains was treacherous by carriage, let alone on foot—still, Isabella was out of options. She could no longer discount the possibility.

Isabella’s face contorted with disdain as she spoke. “Say I believe you—say she left our domain. Where would she possibly go? Enlighten me.”

“M-My guess is as good as yours, milad—”

The head maid’s words were cut short by the shattering of glass beside her head. She merely winced, having grown accustomed to her mistress’s punctuation of her demands with improvised missiles.

“Broaden your search! Find a clue—something, anything! I don’t care how you do it, just get it done!”

“Y-Yes, milady!”

With Isabella’s final words of reproach ringing in her ears, the head maid hurriedly left the room.

Isabella let out a frustrated groan. “Honestly, honestly, honestly, honestly!”

The source of her stress was—what else—Chloe’s disappearance. She had vanished without a trace, leaving the cooking substandard, the paperwork unfinished, and the cleaning shoddy. To make matters worse, their servants were quitting in droves.

This outcome was hardly surprising, given Chloe’s pivotal role at the estate. The once idle servants, addicted to a life of leisure, found themselves overwhelmed by the tasks she had managed with ease. Struggling with the intricacies and various responsibilities involved in running an estate, they departed one by one, unable to fill Chloe’s shoes.

Hiring additional help was a pressing concern. Harry, as the head of the estate, was responsible for recruiting new staff to fill the gaps, but candidates were few and far between—it seemed that word of the estate’s poor working conditions had spread.

The decline in quality of life at the estate directly translated into increased stress for Isabella, whose rage was swiftly reaching a breaking point.

“Are you okay, mother? You must be under so much stress.” Chloe’s sister Lily, who had been present throughout the conversation, consoled Isabella.

“Oh, my dear Lily. You are the only one who understands my pain.”

“I more than understand, Mother. She took my dress—my favorite one! We raised her all these years and this is how she repays us? Unbelievable.” Lily’s voice trembled with rage as she clenched her fists tight.

“I couldn’t agree more. How dare she trouble me so…”

“Speaking of, I had a request, Mother, if you don’t mind.”

“A request?”

“Yes. The esteemed son of House Gimul is holding a little get-together and has extended me an invitation. I was hoping to travel to the royal capital to attend.”

“My, the marquis!” Isabella’s irritation instantly vanished. “Good for you, Lily! The snow’s just about gone, too. Go, with my blessing.”

With a “Yay! Thanks, Mother!” Lily skipped out of the room.

“The capital…” Isabella muttered under her breath. The possibility skipped across her mind. They once had a handmaiden… What was her name again? Shirley? She used to talk about the capital a lot, didn’t she…?

“Preposterous.”

She dismissed the thought. It was impossible. It took weeks to reach the capital by carriage, and that was under the auspices of summer. Chloe would never make it there in this frozen season. They would surely find her somewhere closer.

Isabella’s thoughts once again drifted towards the path of least resistance.

Epilogue

After Lloyd and Chloe triumphed over Alan and his band of mercenaries, the city guard swooped in, arresting the defeated criminals and escorting Lloyd and Chloe to their facility for questioning. By the time the authorities finished their inquiries, the night had grown late.

Upon returning home, Chloe, weary from the night’s events, welcomed a deep, well-deserved slumber. Yet, true to her nature, she was up bright and early the following morning, diligently attending to her housekeeping duties.

“Good morning, Lloyd!”

“Morning.”

Having exchanged their usual pleasantries, the pair settled at the dining table, which was laden with an assortment of dishes.

“This seems more lavish than usual,” observed Lloyd.

“You can tell? In all honesty, something very good happened and…I got a little carried away…”

“Something very good?”

Chloe glanced down at the breakfast spread. “Do you notice anything different?”

Lloyd carefully considered her words for a moment, before his eyes widened. “The cucumbers—they’re sliced.”

“Indeed, Sir Knight!”

“You’re cured?”

“Thanks to you.” Chloe gave a brisk nod. “I noticed while making breakfast this morning—I could look at the kitchen knife and hold it! All without tremors. I was so excited I ended up making all this.”

On the dining table were a sliced cucumber salad, sausages cut into bite-sized pieces, and a soup brimming with an assortment of cut vegetables.

Lloyd recalled his past remark: Which means what we need to do is show you, in some manner, that a knife will not be used to hurt you.

“It must be that last night, after you let your sword come out for my sake, I recognized that a blade can protect, not just hurt.”

“That…makes sense.” Lloyd gave a deep nod of his head. “I can’t say it was my intention, but I’m glad it worked out.”

“Yes! I must thank you, Lloyd.”

“Please, allow me.” Lloyd locked eyes with Chloe. “If you hadn’t given me permission to use my sword then, I doubt I would’ve been able to come out of that unharmed. Had I been unarmed, I would’ve surely caught a scrape or two.”

“Oh, wow… Even then, still just a scrape?”

“I’m a knight,” Lloyd declared. “At any rate, it was your own courage that allowed you to act—which means—in mastering your trauma, you have nobody to thank but yourself.”

Oh Lloyd, how are you able to say these things with a straight face first thing in the morning? As if they had a mind of their own, the corners of Chloe’s mouth quirked up into a lax grin, and her cheeks flushed ever so slightly warmer.

“Thank you, Lloyd.”

“For?”

“Anything and everything.”

Lloyd cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“Now, let’s eat while everything’s still hot!”

Lloyd hummed in agreement, kicking off yet another delightful breakfast—more so even than usual.

◇◇◇

“By the way, you wanted to tell me something?” Lloyd asked as they went to the front door after breakfast.

“I did? When?”

“Last night, right before we were attacked.”

Chloe paused for two beats, and on the third, let out a high-pitched, noncommittal noise. “Th-That was, um… You see…”

As she stumbled over her words, she recalled all too clearly what she had tried to tell him—her origin as a margrave’s daughter, the birthmark on her back, her nature as a “cursed child,” and the abuse she endured as a result.

While she had resolved to share this information the night before, bringing up such a topic during such an offhand, casual conversation in front of the door felt a tad off-beat. Besides, the particular course of events and circumstances that gave her courage last night were but a memory at this point—this was not something she could mention out of nowhere.

But still, cold feet? Now?

As Chloe combed through her thoughts, she arrived at her conclusion.

“…A knight shall repay a favor in kind.”

“That is one of the tenets of knighthood, yes.”

“Do you remember when you said that, Lloyd? I, um… I have a favor to ask of you, if you don’t mind…”

“Oh?” Lloyd turned to face Chloe, an air of almost-giddiness about him. “If I can do anything for you for a change, please, speak your mind. As long as it’s within my power, of course.”

“…My name.”

“Your name?”

“You’ve never called me by my name… It’s always been you, you, you…”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“You said, ‘If I can do something for you,’ just now, didn’t you?”

“…I suppose I did.”

“It always felt kind of impersonal…and cold, and…I didn’t really like that.”

“My apologies, that wasn’t my intention.”

“No, no, I’m not mad or anything! It’s just… If you could…” Chloe flicked her gaze up at Lloyd. “I’d like you to call me by my name…”

A brief pause followed. Lloyd silently gazed upon Chloe with his trademark face of stone.

Then, a hand dropped onto her head. “I’m heading out, Chloe.”

Lloyd turned to leave, his fingers stretching out toward the door handle. As Chloe’s eyes traced his back, she thought she saw a faint blush of red gracing his cheek—or was that just her imagination?

As the notion crossed her mind, a radiant smile blossomed across Chloe’s face. “Have a good day, Lloyd!”

While the door swept to a close, Chloe stood still, gently waving goodbye in his direction.

“All right! Let’s start with a little cleaning, shall we?”

So began another day in the life of Chloe, once of the house of Ardennes—one not too different from the day before or the day before that. It promised seasons still to come in much the same shape, here in the city of her dreams: keeping house for a noble knight, all in good company, warm and welcome, safe and sound.