He’s squirming.

  Marcus wasn’t impressed by the man in front of him anymore. It was why he refused to respond even when the king tried to prod him again and again. Marcus glanced sideways at Stella, then he noticed her curling her fist as she hardened her gaze at her father. Marcus wondered about what was happening inside her mind, but that display only lasted a second or so.

  Stella suddenly smiled and spoke up.

  “Father, you truly shouldn’t bother him much,” Stella said. “I’ll be concise. He’s not the most social person out there, and he’s most uncomfortable when spoken to by people he doesn’t know. I would appreciate it if you and everyone in the palace could accommodate that.”

  “And this is the man who saved you from the Death God Cult?”

  “Yes. I will not repeat myself. That is the truth.”

  Marcus took a deep breath. Geez, she’s really saving my ass a lot now, huh? Marcus definitely appreciated that, even if it was tiny. The fact that she was covering for him big time so he wouldn’t deal with people trying to prod him was always helpful. Though, it did come with the cost that Stella decided earlier to take him as ‘her knight.’

  It’s an interesting idea for sure, and I don’t really mind. Being her knight while I work with her should give me the authority to keep my identity on the down low.

  Maybe he’d have to reveal himself at some point to the Royal Family, though, to Stella’s friends, or maybe even to the Sordalian military. But if there was an express agreement for them not to leak secrets, it was probably going to be fine. After all, the only reason Marcus kept his identity a secret was that originally he was banking on trying to retire quietly in the countryside once his business with the Demon Horde was finished.

  If his life was going to involve a lot more of Stella and her family, getting known by them wouldn’t be big trouble, especially if Stella was much, much stronger, such that she could dictate terms and make her father follow her. Yeah, right. All that training she received under me has paid off so far. Marcus was grinning inside. It all really was worth it in the end.

  “My dearest daughter,” Aolis furrowed his brow. “You’ve become attached to him, haven’t you? Why must your father not have the right to see his face or know his name then?”

  “That is his prerogative, not mine, nor yours. Father, I am tired, and my guard is most likely under the same condition. I am alive and well; isn’t that all you wanted to know?”

  “...Fine. You two are dismissed then. Miss Phoebe and Miss Marie, report to the chief steward that you are both being reassigned back into my daughter’s employ. I wish you all a good day.”

  The exchange was rather fast, but in the end, somehow, it was done. Marcus and Stella, alongside her maids, were all escorted out of the throne hall. On the other hand, outside, multiple elven officials who were waiting for the king to open the door entered after them.

  As Marcus stepped outside with Stella, he found Fritz walking fast in his direction. He didn’t seem pleased.

  “Good sir,” Fritz leaned close to him so he wouldn’t speak out loud while they were walking through the halls. “You probably pissed the king off. I told you to not start trouble, you bastard.”

  “Well, he was asking for something I refuse to budge on,” Marcus said. “So he doesn’t see my face? So what? He can pound sand.”

  “You’re giving us too much work, man—”

  Stella cleared her throat as she stopped and turned back.

  “Sir Fritz, I believe my father also dismissed military personnel already,” Stella smiled. “Please return to your superior officer. You’ve done enough exemplary work today.”

  “...What?” Fritz looked at both Stella and Marcus before bowing at Stella resignedly. “Apologies. I was merely giving him essential warnings for his safety. I’ll leave now.”

  And with that, even Fritz walked off. Marcus looked at Stella, bewildered.

  “...You know, you really didn’t need to do that,” Marcus said. “The guy’s just worried that the king is now about to bash my head open. I mean, it’s my fault for not opening up to royalty, which is kind of a major thing, so eh—”

  “Sir Marcus, you have no fault here whatsoever. I dragged you here for my personal business, so it’s up to you what is acceptable and unacceptable. I don’t want people under my family bothering you.”

  “...You do know that I don’t really give that big of a toss, right? It’s annoying, but it’s not a big deal. And again, keeping my identity hidden for this long is a bit unreasonable anyway.”

  “But so are people trying hard to unmask you.” Stella frowned. “Just like how you never once interrogated me, I don’t want other people trying to do it to you, even if…even if all it does is annoy you.”

  Stella looked down as she held her elbow.

  “I just don’t want to be a burden to you, okay?”

  “...I hear you. You know what? I’m kind of hungry. Should I go out and check the city?”

  “Oh, no, absolutely not.” Stella shook her head, turning to her two maids. “Since you guys are going to report to the chief steward, might I request food for the two of us? Please deliver it at my chambers…assuming that it has been adequately maintained, that is.”

  “Of course it’s been kept to its previous conditions,” Marie pleasantly said as she nodded. “Give me an hour or so, and I’ll get the food delivered to you. Phoebe here will escort and help you both to settle in at that stateroom you liked to use back then.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Marcus finally managed to remove his white mask and lower his hood after they settled in one of the rooms in Stella’s chambers in the Royal Palace. While he didn’t know how trustworthy the maid Phoebe was, considering Stella and she went a long way, he decided it wasn’t that big of a deal to drop his disguises now. Besides, he needed people in the palace who were close to Stella as allies anyway, and being a faceless monster wouldn’t help his cause.

  When he removed it immediately, Phoebe, who was serving both of them tea while they were seated together at a medium-sized table, gasped a bit. She froze as she stared at Marcus for a few good seconds with wide eyes before she straightened and composed herself as if nothing had happened.

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  Stella on the side chuckled as she sipped her tea.

  “That’s surprising,” Stella smiled. “I didn’t expect that you’d trust her enough to do that.”

  “Well, she’s your friend and servant. I guess that’s enough for me,” Marcus said, taking a whiff from the tea he was served with. “Not bad. Though I honestly prefer coffee, tea is a bit too bland for me.”

  “Tch. For someone acquainted with royalty, you sure have no appreciation for the finer things in life out there. Good-looking as you may be, you still are truly human in mind, good sir.”

  Marcus felt his eyes twitching. This ‘Phoebe’ girl sure had quite the sharp tongue for a prim and proper maid. No, wait, that didn’t sound right. She definitely could control herself; that meant this elven maid was saying those insults out loud intentionally.

  “Hey, hey,” Marcus called out, his voice low. “My taste isn’t bad. Coffee is superior to tea. And if you want to argue about it, you better look at me while insulting me.”

  “Stella, I advise that you reconsider the criteria you use for men you allow in your chambers, please.”

  “He’s not bad,” Stella said, pouting a bit. “He’s just…well, he’s a commoner, so his taste can be a hit or miss sometimes.”

  Phoebe gave Marcus a side-eye before sighing.

  “I see. How unfortunate. I thought he was some kind of a foreign prince, or a nobleman at least, when I first saw his face.”

  “...Where’d you even get that idea?” Marcus asked, bewildered.

  That was when Phoebe smiled and looked at the window.

  “When Lady Stella described who you are to us, she said she was once in the depths of a cave, captured by fiendish cultists. As such, she was a damsel in distress by definition.” Phoebe clasped her hands as Stella nearly sputtered her tea. “But then, out came a ‘majestic’ man, slaying hordes of evil cultists without being tainted by blood. Once done, he offers his hand like a gentleman who reached out to her and healed her.”

  “T-that’s absolutely not how I described the story to you!” Stella half shouted, but Phoebe ignored her.

  “From then on, said gentleman travelled with Lady Stella, helping her out valiantly and with great chivalry until he managed to get her back to her palace. Then I saw your face, and it was almost a perfect story and narrative in my mind.” Then Phoebe looked down on Marcus. “Until you opened your mouth and aired your opinion about tea. It is a grave tragedy.”

  “...It’s great that you trashed that delusional fantasy in your mind, but that still kinda stings, you know?” Marcus said to Phoebe.

  She flashed a smile as she looked straight at the window, away from Marcus.

  “I’m glad that my words have their intended effects on you.”

  “I really apologize about Phoebe,” Stella said to Marcus, defeated. “I swear, while she’s like that, she’ll help you out anyway if you need it.”

  “Of course. It is simply the duty of a good maid,” Phoebe proudly said as she stood at the side. “If you two need help, feel free to call me out.”

  Marcus breathed in and out as if he had been wounded earlier.

  “Sure, I’m sure she’s nice,” Marcus said. “I definitely do not regret removing my mask.”

  “Regardless, thank you, good sir,” Phoebe said, taking Marcus’s attention again. Unlike earlier, when she looked down on him with venom due to his taste and mannerism, this time, she was looking at him gratefully. “Thank you for saving Stella. I doubt that she’s lying, so based on her story, I believe you are at least a good man. I simply hope that you’ll fix yourself soon, especially the way you hold that teacup, for it is wrong.”

  “Miss Phoebe, are you sure being this nitpicky about everything isn’t going to reduce your lifespan, even if you’re an elf and all?”

  “Absolutely not. Maintaining high standards should not reduce one’s quality of life. On the contrary, it improves it. If you wish aid in learning how to do so, I can help you with Stella’s approval.”

  This girl just can’t be nice without being an asshole at the same time, huh?

  While Marcus looked blankly at the table, because, quite frankly, he was being looked down on again for his lowborn status, something which he realized he wasn’t immune to yet—considering that he got used to Stella considering him as an equal even with his cultureless behavior—a woman appeared at the door outside of the room. It was Marie, and she carried a wholesome smile on her face.

  “Lady Stella, the food is ready now. Shall I cart them in there?”

  “Oh, of course! Bring them in.”

  “Very well.”

  Both Marie and Phoebe then prepared the food on the table. When they were done, there was quite a bountiful variety of delicious food on the table. As Marcus hungrily stared at it, because he hadn’t eaten for hours now, only to get royalty-grade food dropped on his lap, Stella profusely thanked the servants on the side.

  Then she dismissed them, leaving the two alone in the room to eat privately.

  It was quite a usual dinner, with Marcus going heavy on the meat selection on the table, while Stella took small bites from the cake, sweets, and other delights. Midway through it, as Marcus laughed along with Stella while she was telling stories about herself and her maids’ time in the academy, Marcus poked a cut of medium-rare steak on his plate.

  “You know,” Marcus shook his head while snorting. “You sure tell me stuff about your life so freely.”

  “Well, I enjoy how it makes you smile and laugh,” Stella said. “Besides, if you’re not going to tell any story, then it’s an opportunity for me to tell mine.”

  “I sure appreciate that. It would be boring without it.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t let it get boring. I have way too many stories to tell. Like that one time when Phoebe had a crush on one of the guys at the academy! And he’s a foreign prince too. I tell you, she may be all stiff, but she’s quite a romantic at heart.”

  “I can tell.”

  Marcus's smile disappeared a bit.

  “...Say, have you ever wondered about my story?”

  Stella stopped as she stabbed a piece of cake with her fork.

  “I do. I do wonder about it, all the time, in fact. But I can tell that you don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “I don’t. But, for some reason,” Marcus chuckled, as he refused to make eye contact with Stella. “It also feels bad, you know? No one knows who I really am. Or was. Even you, so technically, I’m also kind of wearing a mask when I’m with you. Anyway, ignore it. It’s just dumb sentimental crap.”

  “I don’t think it’s dumb at all, Sir Marcus.” Stella lowered her cutlery and rested her chin on the back of her hands as she looked at him. “You’re a soldier from four hundred years ago. Someone who claims to have been in the Glorious Expedition. You survive hell. Everyone has a story: their achievements, their efforts, their work, and people don’t want that to be forgotten.”

  Her voice now was soft, tender, and inviting. It was almost like home, in Marcus’s mind.

  “If you wish to share it with me, I will eagerly listen, just like you always eagerly listen to me.”

  Should I? Will she even believe me?

  Marcus debated it again and again in his mind. Quite frankly, he always yearned for this, deep down. While he always wanted to act like it’s nothing, that all he did was do his job silently, like how a proper soldier should, he somewhat wanted to be recognized. The world around them, after all, was so peaceful because of Marcus.

  I fought and struggled with blood, sweat, and tears so this world can live on without the demon horde.

  But in the end, I came back home without anyone.

  Now though, he had someone. Someone who was willing to listen, someone who he knew well, and someone he wished would know him well too. He was backed into a corner. Rationality and logic were thrown out, his desire to be recognized by this woman overpowering them. He wanted her to know who he was.

  And so, Marcus started.

  “...I’ll start from the top then. I am Captain Marcus Lieberman, forcefully conscripted to join the 33rd Imperial Infantry Regiment of the Holy Astrean Military. I was a lowly scout when, one day, I and a few hundred thousand of my brothers in arms crossed the portal between hell and our world. Now, I’m the only man who can tell the tale of the men and women who worked to kill the Death God himself.”