Shadow's Oath

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Chapter 31: The First Encounter (2)

Damion stood awkwardly between the two facing each other and asked,

"What brings you here, Charlon?"

With a smiling face, Charlon looked at Jedrick and replied,

"I came because I wanted to meet the High Chieftain of Geron, Your Highness."

"Huh, you’ll meet him tomorrow anyway... I was going to formally introduce you then."

"I guess I was a bit impatient."

Charlon nodded slightly with an apologetic smile.

Ram, seeing that smile, realized that this meeting wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment decision.

It was to make the encounter with the High Chieftain a fact, ensuring she didn’t contradict what she'd told Rusef earlier.

While impulsive, the decision itself was calculated.

"Well, anyway, allow me to introduce you. This is Chief Jedrick, and this is Lady Charlon."

Damion introduced them in a slightly tense voice, and Charlon greeted with a bright tone,

"Hello, High Chieftain Jedrick... or should I say, Elhorn?"

Despite the abruptness, Jedrick replied without a hint of surprise,

"I’ve heard of you from the prince, Lady Charlon Vormont."

Charlon smiled gently and said,

"Your pronunciation is excellent."

"And your accent differs from other Tritons."

"Even if it’s a common southern tongue, pronunciations vary across countries."

"And the words differ slightly too?"

"You’re well-informed."

As Damion listened to their exchange, still awkwardly standing, he interjected,

"Rather than sitting out here, why not come inside?"

"No, Your Highness. These men are bound by the Grand General's orders, and I don't want them breaking the rules on my account."

Pointing at the two guards, Charlon continued,

"But since I’m staying outside, they won’t technically be breaking any rules, so there’ll be no punishments later, right?"

"But the ground is cold..."

"Should I fetch a cushion?"

The two guards looked guilt-ridden, as if they had forcibly made a noble lady sit outside, fidgeting in discomfort.

Jedrick frowned and spoke,

"This is tiresome. State your purpose."

His tone was curt, his gaze avoiding Charlon.

He seemed angry.

"I have no specific purpose. This greeting is my purpose."

Charlon replied with her ever-present smile, while Jedrick remained stoic.

"Are you here to sightsee, then? I must decline."

"What if I’m here to offer a tour instead? Weren’t you curious about who the prince’s fiancée is?"

Jedrick shook his head firmly.

"Not in the slightest."

"You’re already close with the prince. Why not become close with me too?"

"Who said that? Damion, did you?"

Jedrick turned to glare at Damion, adding,

"Let me make this clear: I have no intention of befriending southerners."

Jedrick’s unusually cold tone startled Damion, who stammered,

"Aren’t we already friends?"

"Listening to your chatter is a good way to learn the Triton language. None of the soldiers here bother to converse at all."

Hearing this, Damion muttered under his breath,

"So that’s all it was?"

Charlon nodded in understanding and said,

"That’s the nature of war’s aftermath. But time will heal wounds. Even Born and Triton, who fought and hurt each other a decade ago, are now allies through this betrothal. Geron will come to understand reconciliation too."

"Impossible. The southerners I know don’t honor promises."

"You’ll see that it’s possible."

Charlon lightly tapped her chest with her index finger and said,

"I’ll make sure you see it."

Jedrick sneered,

"Don’t make such bold claims. You’ll only embarrass yourself if you fail to keep them."

"Is that a Geron proverb?"

"It’s just a fundamental truth of human affairs."

Charlon let out a thoughtful hum and then smiled.

"Good advice. I’ll be careful. Maybe I got a little carried away. But Prince Damion was right. He said that having you here gave him the courage to become the ruler of this land."

Jedrick glared and asked,

"Prince, did you put her up to this? Thinking I’d be moved by such words?"

Damion hastily responded in shock,

"No, not at all! I did say those words, but I would never have asked her to..."

"The prince spoke the truth, and I believe his words."

Charlon quickly interjected, almost cutting him off.

Jedrick smirked and replied mockingly,

"Don’t throw around words like ‘rule’ so lightly. When you meet my brother Ikarum, the Chief of Elum, you’ll realize this land is not one you can govern. At best, you can force us to surrender. But we are a people who cannot be ruled."

Charlon responded with a challenging tone,

"We’ll see about that. Isn’t that right, Prince Damion?"

"Uh... yes."

Damion answered in a hesitant tone before quickly adding,n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Of course, I believe the Geron and we can find harmony—not as rulers and subjects, but as equals."

While Damion explained, Jedrick kept his gaze fixed on Charlon, as if she, not Damion, were the one trying to conquer the Geron.

Charlon let out another hum and said,

"You seem uncomfortable with my presence."

Jedrick curtly replied,

"Then leave."

"I hope our next meeting will be a more pleasant one."

“There won’t be one.”

“Do you mean there won’t be a smoother meeting, or there won’t be a meeting at all?”

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“Both.”

Despite Jedrick’s sharp words, Charlon smiled and rose from her seat.

“Let’s leave it at this for now. Any more, and feelings will only get hurt.”

It was merely a gesture to brush off the dirt from her seat and stand up, but even such a simple action looked elegant enough to leave the guards holding their breath.

“I’ll take my leave now, Your Highness.”

“Wait a moment! Let me accompany you,”

The prince stammered as he hurried out of the tent to stand beside Charlon.

At that moment, Jedrick warned in a stern voice,

“Do not bring that woman before me again.”

Damion frowned and snapped back.

“Watch your tongue, Jedrick! I’ll hold you accountable for your rudeness later!”

“Rudeness? Say that to the woman!”

“This insolent fool…”

“Stuga! Block the tent and don’t let those two back in here.”

Jedrick gave the order, but Ram hesitated, unsure whether it was acceptable to enforce such a command against the prince.

Fortunately, the prince had already walked far off to follow Charlon.

Ram discreetly lowered the tent flap, concealing Jedrick from view.

Damion, walking beside Charlon, spoke in a comforting tone.

“Don’t let it bother you too much. Jedrick is just tense; he’s actually a good friend.”

“I wasn’t bothered. And I think he’s a good person, too.”

The two moved farther away.

Ram debated whether to follow them or remain to guard the tent.

‘I’ve been having these kinds of dilemmas a lot lately.’

As if to resolve his dilemma, Jedrick called out.

“Stuga, come in for a moment.”

“Yes.”

Ram stepped forward and stood before Jedrick.

“Closer.”

Following Jedrick’s instruction, Ram knelt on one knee right in front of him.

He suspected the topic might be about Charlon, but the name Jedrick spoke was entirely unexpected.

“A man named Astian came to see me.”

Ram immediately heightened his alertness, scanning the surroundings and sharpening his hearing.

Though Jedrick’s voice was low, one could never be too careful.

Astian had been watching Ram closely ever since he’d been stationed here.

Astian, the second son of General Terdin.

He always wore a smile, got along well with the soldiers, and had good relations with the commanders.

His friendly demeanor and pleasant voice made him likable to everyone.

Conversations with Rusef and Damion were always filled with laughter.

“Did he do something suspicious?”

Ram asked.

“…A crafty man,”

Jedrick replied.

“In what way?”

“Hard to pinpoint. But we Geronians dislike people whose actions don’t match their true intentions. Just like that Charlon earlier.”

“Lady Charlon… was she being insincere?”

“Fake. She came here just to gawk at how savages behave, only to later turn it into mockery. Yet she hides behind a façade of exaggerated courtesy and a contrived smile… It’s infuriating just thinking about it.”

Jedrick shook his head in frustration, then continued about Astian.

“He asked me all sorts of questions.”

“Strange questions?”

“What kinds of food do Geronians eat, how do we hold weddings, and what differences exist between our tribe and others—questions like that.”

“Aren’t those fairly ordinary? Even Prince Damion asked similar things.”

“True. But when Damion asked, it was genuine curiosity. Astian was different. I initially treated him warmly because he’s General Terdin’s son. But after a few rounds of questions, I started sensing something off. So I pretended not to understand, giving nonsensical answers. He grew frustrated. That’s when I realized—he wasn’t actually asking ‘that question’ aloud, but he was trying to get the answer out of me.”

“What answer?”

“Who killed Mantum.”

Ram had practiced hiding his emotions upon hearing that name, but whether he succeeded this time, he couldn’t tell.

He couldn’t very well ask Jedrick,

“Did I look okay just now?”

“Strictly speaking, he already seemed to know who killed Mantum. What he was really probing was how I thought about it and how I might respond.”

Jedrick’s voice turned cold as he warned,

“He’ll come looking for you soon. Be careful.”

“Yes.”

As Ram stood, Jedrick suddenly let out a low groan.

“Stuga.”

“Yes.”

“What I said earlier… about her being fake—don’t ever mention that to her.”

“I won’t tell anyone about this conversation.”

“Good… If by chance we meet again… if she… Never mind.”

Jedrick hesitated, trying to say something, then shook his head and straightened his expression.

“Forget it. You may go.”

“Yes.”

Ram bowed and left the tent.

‘Now I get it! I finally understand what General Terdin meant. Jedrick isn’t so different from Prince Damion after all—just in a different way, that’s all.’

Ram quickly erased the thought that had surfaced.

It was a dangerous thought.

That’s why Jedrick had hurriedly driven Charlon away.

To deny his own feelings.

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