An Unexpected Proposal-Chapter 49

"That’s one reason, but the real reason is the beasts."

Beasts. Alicia’s fingers twitched involuntarily. Lady Morco didn’t elaborate further, but Alicia clearly remembered what Cabelenus had told her—he claimed that the blood of beasts ran through his veins.

"For some reason, Schwarhan is overrun with beasts at the same time every year. Normally, they’re nowhere to be found, but once hunting season begins, they emerge as if drawn by something, causing havoc. That’s why the season got its name."

"…Beasts are terrifying, aren’t they?"

Alicia carefully observed Lady Morco’s expression. She hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"They’re as fearsome as Schwarhan’s winters."

"……"

"But ironically, they’re also necessary."

"Necessary?"

Alicia tilted her head in confusion.

"The people of Schwarhan don’t hunt beasts just for their safety."

"Then why?"

"Beasts are essential to life here. Their fur is used to make clothing to withstand the cold, and their bones are crafted into weapons strong enough to fight against wild animals."

"But isn’t it still dangerous?"

Alicia’s brow furrowed.

"It’s better than freezing to death. At least you can kill a beast."

"Have you ever killed one before, Lady Morco?"

"Of course. I may be like this now, but I was once quite the skilled knight. Back in my day, I was always the star of the hunting season."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Lady Morco smoothed the wrinkles forming on Alicia’s nose with a gentle smile.

"…What about His Highness?"

"His Highness always slays the most. If you saw him in action, you’d be in awe."

Lady Morco chuckled, but Alicia couldn’t bring herself to do the same. She found it difficult to picture a man who carried the blood of beasts hunting them so mercilessly.

"Is this kind of talk too gruesome for you?"

"No, it’s just… I was thinking."

"Thinking?"

"Well…"

There were many things she wanted to ask, but it was clear Lady Morco didn’t know about Cabelenus’s secret. Alicia licked her dry lips.

"…I was thinking about the talisman."

"The talisman?"

"I heard that those who join the hunt are given talismans for protection."

"Are you planning to give one to His Highness?"

"Yeah. I’ve been preparing it for a while."

Whether she would actually be able to give it to him, she wasn’t sure. But she deliberately left that part unsaid. This walk was supposed to be a distraction—she didn’t want to dwell on gloomy topics.

"If it’s something you made, I’m sure he’ll gladly accept it."

"I hope so."

Alicia brushed back her wind-tousled hair with a small smile.

And then, her gaze locked onto someone.

'When did she get there?'

She was certain no one had been standing there just moments ago. But now, beneath a distant tree, a woman was watching her, smiling.

"Hello."

The woman’s voice was bright and cheerful, but Alicia instinctively tensed. She was stunningly beautiful—so much so that her smile, revealing perfectly white teeth, made Alicia wonder if she was dreaming. She swallowed dryly. The woman hadn’t said anything revealing, but Alicia already had a sense of who she was.

"Isn’t it polite to respond when someone speaks to you?"

Alicia’s body stiffened involuntarily. The woman’s lips were curved into a smile, but her eyes weren’t. That alone was enough to tell Alicia—this woman despised her.

"You shouldn’t be here. This is a restricted area."

Lady Morco stepped in front of Alicia, her expression hardening.

"If that thing is allowed to roam freely, why shouldn’t I be?"

"Watch your words."

"Watch my words? You should be the one watching yours. Do you even know who I am?"

"The princess shouldn’t be here."

"What, you know who I am and still have the audacity to act so insolent?"

"Your attire makes it obvious."

Lady Morco subtly gestured to the maids behind her while keeping her sharp eyes on the woman. There weren’t many people in Schwarhan who dressed in such fine, luxurious garments. More than that, Lady Morco had memorized the faces of all the noble families. Identifying an intruder was easy.

"Honestly, everything about this land disgusts me. Just like their rude master, even his dogs have no manners."

"It is you who is being disrespectful, Princess."

"I am merely repaying what I was given."

"I have done nothing to you."

"Not you. I meant the filth hiding behind you like a rat."

Veloa’s sharp gaze landed on Alicia. Though Lady Morco was shielding her, Alicia’s white fur cloak was still visible—and that alone was enough to infuriate her.

A mere slave, acting as if she were a noble lady, being protected as if she deserved it—nothing could be more infuriating.

"If you continue to insult my lady, I will not stand idly by."

"You’re protecting that thing, even knowing it’s a slave?"

Veloa clicked her tongue, her face twisted in open disdain.

"There are no slaves in Schwarhan."

"Oh, sure. And if words alone could erase slavery, then I suppose there wouldn’t be a single slave in the world, would there?"

"It seems the princess is in dire need of another lesson in etiquette."

Lady Morco’s gaze remained impassive as she regarded Veloa. The princess was holding a staff—clear evidence that she was a mage. And not just any mage, but one skilled enough to sneak into this place unnoticed.

I never heard that the princess was a mage. This complicates things.

Morco’s eyes narrowed slightly. She had never lost a battle since being knighted, but things were different now. Time had taken its toll on even the most skilled of knights.

"You have no right to lecture me on manners. Who do you think you are, speaking that way to your superior?"

"If Your Highness wished to be treated with respect, you should have requested an audience properly instead of sneaking in like a rat."

"Who are you calling a rat?!"

"I have every right to repay insults, just as you do."

"Ugh, all of you are so irritating."

Despite Veloa’s contorted expression, a small smirk formed on Morco’s lips. Mages were difficult opponents, but fortunately, this one was young. The overconfidence in her eyes—the belief in her own power—was a glaring weakness.

"If you leave now, I won’t make an issue of this."

"Make an issue of it all you want."

As if you could tell anyone.

With a sinister smile, countless sharp ice shards materialized in the air and shot toward Alicia.

"Lady Morco!"

"It’s fine. There’s no need to worry."

Morco didn’t even turn around. She simply let out a short breath, a finely honed dagger now in her hand.

"You actually managed to block that? Maybe you do have some skill."

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"This much, I could handle with my eyes closed."

Morco smiled confidently, but inside, she knew the truth. The attack had been fast enough to slice through her dress. Once, she could have deflected it effortlessly. But now, age was beginning to show its effects. A few rounds would be fine, but if this fight dragged on, she would be at a disadvantage.

"Sirin. Sijna."

"Yes, ma’am."

"I’ll handle this. Escort the lady inside."

Time had stolen many things from her, but it had given her wisdom. Quickly, she formulated her strategy, infusing her dagger with aura. The energy-coated blade now looked more like a longsword.

"But—"

"I need her gone if I’m going to fight properly."

"……"

Alicia hesitated, her head lowering. Leaving Morco behind didn’t sit well with her, but she wasn’t wrong.

"…Alright. I’ll be waiting."

"Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon."

"Running away? That’s not happening."

Veloa swung her staff, and the ground split apart, blocking Alicia’s path. She bit her lower lip. Both Sirin and Sijna drew their swords, stepping in to protect her, but escape was impossible. The cracks in the ground were only the beginning—suddenly, skeletal hands emerged from the abyss.

"Necromancy is a forbidden art, yet the princess seems to be quite talented."

"I’m special."

Veloa cocked her head arrogantly.

"I wonder how people will react when they find out about your powers."

"You don’t need to wonder. You’ll never get the chance to tell anyone. The few who have seen my power rarely live to talk about it."

"Then I suppose I’ll be the exception."

"Why don’t you prove that by defeating my pets first?"

Veloa grinned wickedly, leaning on her staff. Morco, meanwhile, focused on the battlefield. The skeletal warriors charged, and she cut them down, checking on Alicia’s safety between strikes. Sirin and Sijna were holding their ground well.

No… that’s not good.

Morco exhaled sharply. Veloa’s skeletons didn’t stay down. Even if they were shattered, they simply reassembled and attacked again. This was a battle of endurance, and in such a contest, one side would inevitably tire first.

Why isn’t she casting any new spells?

Or perhaps… she couldn’t? Morco’s eyes flicked to Veloa’s staff. The tip was glowing faintly—an indicator of ongoing magic.

That was enough confirmation. Morco adjusted her grip on her sword and lunged forward.

"W-What are you— Kyaaah!"

"You leave too many openings, Princess."

Before Veloa could react, Morco tackled her to the ground. Snow scattered as the two rolled, but Morco quickly pinned the princess beneath her, pressing a blade to her throat.

The skeletons vanished instantly.

"You’ve never fought in real combat before, have you, Princess?"

"Shut up and get off me!"

"What good is power if you don’t know how to wield it?"

"You think you can lecture me?! You?!"

Veloa’s furious glare burned, but her staff had been knocked far out of reach. Without it, she was little more than an ordinary noblewoman. She had no means of escaping a trained warrior’s grip. All she could do was scream in frustration.

Morco sighed in relief. If Veloa had truly been skilled, this battle could have been far worse. It was sheer luck that she was just an arrogant princess with an inflated ego.

"Are you alright, Lady Morco?"

"Yes, I’m fine, Sirin. But restrain the princess for me. We need to inform His Highness imme—"

Shk!

Morco stopped mid-sentence.

A sharp, cold sensation pierced through her stomach.

Her movements stiffened. The pain wasn’t immediate—what she first felt was a strange sense of detachment, as if her body no longer belonged to her. Slowly, she lowered her gaze.

Blood.

A deep red stain spread across her abdomen. A staff—Veloa’s staff—had been driven straight through her body.

"…I’m sorry, Lady Morco."

The voice above her was flat.

With great difficulty, Morco raised her head.

Standing at the other end of the staff, her hands still gripping it tightly, was none other than Sirin.

"Why…?"

Her voice trembled.

Sirin pulled the staff back, and blood splattered across the snow. Her expression remained blank.

"Don’t move. If you resist, I’ll have to kill you immediately."