Shorter days and longer nights were a characteristic of winter. And if one were engrossed in work, darkness would descend even sooner.
Max lit a candle and looked towards the dusky outside. She had been busy the whole day, a little tired too, but she spared no thoughts to herself. As she gazed at the tranquil, even sky, her thoughts ran straight to Riftan. He was busier than anyone else in the castle.
Throughout the day, Riftan went around the territory training his soldiers, and when that was done, he circled around the walls to sweep away the monsters and predators who might be hiding. However, his numerous tasks didn’t end at that. From early dawn to late night, he was up to his eyes checking the progress of new buildings in the village, discussing taxes with collectors, or checking the town for troublemakers. He did so without respite, even so, he never once displayed fatigue.
Is he made of iron or something…?
By and by Max had started to sort of respect Rifatan’s tenacity and admire his capabilities. He never shied away from his responsibilities, no matter how onerous. Ordinary people couldn’t keep up with his life—they would’ve long succumbed just at the thought of the ordeal let alone seeing it through.
As she mulled over her husband’s might, she shook off Ruth’s words from a while ago. Riftan Calypse was blessed with superhuman abilities. He was a brawny brute capable of overcoming any challenge thrown at him without even flinching. She had been overthinking, fretting over scenarios that couldn’t possibly happen.
With that, she soothed herself, had dinner, and rested.
Late in the night, she heard Riftan return to the room. He had decided to go out to fight two days later. Just by the thought of it, Max quickly lost her peace of mind. Oblivious to her anxiety, he took off his boots and armor and spoke calmly.
“The reparation will arrive from Libadon tomorrow. Then we can kick the prisoners straight out of Anatol. The new gates are almost complete… and Ruth said the magic defensive tools would be ready tomorrow. So, it won’t be a problem if I leave the castle for a while.”
“Wh-where are you go-going to?” She moistened her dry lips and barely maintained calm.
“I heard that a bunch of goblins have settled over the mountain. I’ll stay for about four or five days and root them out,” he said, pointing to one of the high peaks out of the window.
Max looked at him anxiously. “I-Isn’t it da-dangerous?”
Riftan seemed to be dazed by the question.
“Hey, are you being worried that I might be hit by goblins?” He finished with a laugh as if it were absurd. “Subduing goblins is annoying, not dangerous. It’s a bit more annoying than hunting rabbits.” 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.𝘤𝘰𝘮
“I-if they are not very d-dangerous, h-how about le-letting them….?”
An impatient look suddenly settled on his features. “It’s my duty to protect this land. Are you telling me to neglect it now?” He said in a hardened tone, making Max unconsciously flinch.
Riftan then continued, “Goblins are low-level devils but are very prolific. If not rooted out, they multiply enormously and attack the vendors or mess up hunting grounds. It’s my job to prevent it from happening.”
“I-I’m sorry. I was… pre-presumptuous.” Max apologized immediately.
Riftan looked at her stiff face, then held out one arm with a long sigh. Max drew closer and accepted his warm hug. He rubbed his nose on her shoulder and wrapped his hand with her thick hair braided into one.
“I, too, don’t like sleeping on the cold and dirty floor instead of a warm bed. But I still have to do what I have to do.” He gently coaxed her.
Max stroked his thick black hair without a word. It broke her heart to think that he would sleep under the cold and chilly wind. As a knight’s wife does it mean I always have to be prepared for this loneliness?
She wondered if the other aristocratic couples had kept a proper distance from each other because they didn’t want to feel such longing for the other.
And now, she was afraid he might have gotten too close to her.
?
The next day—and true to his words—a new, huge steel door was erected at the castle gates. So sturdy and impregnable, that even if ogres were to knock with a hammer, it would still not budge. On either side, the magical tools Ruth made were installed. The magical tools that had wrestled the parchment pile over the past few days were in the form of a round disk of ivory, about the size of a pumpkin.
Max, who ran out to the gate to see the result, looked at the magical tools installed on the watchtower with awestruck eyes. Several ancient languages were inscribed on the edge of the disc and the red mana stone that Ruth had shown was right in the middle.
“Wha-What is this ma-made of?”
When she asked, smoothing down the disc surface with her curious fingers, Ruth answered insignificantly.
“It’s made of the bone of the Basilisk.”
Max was startled and instantly took off her hand. “B-bone?” she exclaimed.
“The subspecies of dragons, such as Basilisk, Wyverns, Lizard have powerful anti-magic power. Most magical tools are made from the bones of these evil creatures.” He narrated in a lazy tone.
She opened her eyes to the slits and looked down at the smooth glossy disc. As she thought it was a bone of evil, it looked eerie.
