Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Side Story 10
“You don’t seem to be from around here. Are you merchants from a big city?”
It was unlikely for nobles to mingle at a commoner’s gathering, so naturally, the man assumed they were wealthy merchants.
Eirik gave an appropriate answer, “Yes.”
“May I ask where you’re from?”
“We’re from Cladis.”
Cladis referred to the entire northwestern region, but it could also mean the city where the lord resided. Since it was a place known for its merchants, it was hard for the man to guess their true identity.
However, the moment he heard “Cladis,” the father’s jaw dropped, and murmurs began to spread among those nearby.
“Cladis? Incredible!”
“Did you fight in the war, then?”
It would have been more unusual for a young man from Cladis to avoid conscription entirely. When Eirik nodded, people started standing up one by one.
“Oh, my! Look at that!”
“He’s from Cladis! And he fought in the war!”
The simple townspeople began to gather, their admiring gazes falling on Eirik—not just out of admiration for the city but for another reason.
“Thank you for protecting this land.”
“I always felt guilty. Especially to the people of Cladis, like I owed them a debt.”
During the war, conscription had been relatively low in the poor Kazen region since making a living was hard enough. In contrast, the city of Cladis had provided far more resources and soldiers.
“Even during the war, the lord told us to just focus on surviving, right? And they gave those Sidate scoundrels a real thrashing.”
“The brave Cladnier knights flew like eagles on the battlefield, they say.”
Eirik listened without much reaction, while Miesa’s heart swelled with pride as she watched. She wanted to announce that this man was the very lord they spoke of, but she held herself back, remembering the patience Eirik had taught her.
While the greetings of gratitude and admiration continued, the twins’ father suddenly gestured to someone.
“Bring out the biggest barrel from the storage!”
Not long after, several men brought out a large wooden barrel. The twins’ father turned away from Eirik, shouting to the townspeople instead.
“Everyone knows this, right? This is the rare liquor—the Cladite—that my in-laws gifted me for my wedding!”
“Of course, it should be something of that level! A man from Cladis came all the way to this humble village, after all!”
“Are you alright with this?”
Eirik tried to stop them, but the twins’ father insisted.
“You must drink it today. Only then will the liquor feel honored, don’t you think?”
Even if personifying the liquor seemed odd, the idea that the alcohol would feel joy by being consumed was even stranger. Miesa found his words bewildering, but her eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of trying a 20-year-aged Cladite.
“May I know your name?”
The twins’ father asked politely as he offered Eirik a cup, and Eirik smiled slightly as he answered.
“…Emmanes.”
Cullen, who was standing at a distance, had suddenly lost his name but didn’t seem to care.
“Mr. Emmanes, would you kindly bestow a blessing upon my children?”
“Me?”
Eirik was bewildered. What blessing could he give when he wasn’t a priest?
“Yes! You returned unharmed from that terrible battlefield, which means the goddess must have blessed you.”
“Well…”
Eirik was about to decline politely.
“That’s true. Honey, don’t deny the goddess’s grace.”
But Miesa enthusiastically supported them. Eventually, Eirik gave in with a wry smile.
“I’m not sure how to proceed.”
“Don’t worry. You can just greet the babies, or if you prefer, say a prayer to the goddess for them.”
When the relatives and the father of the children made way, the twins’ mother and the wrinkled old lady carefully walked over, each holding a baby.
“Please…”
The old lady looked up at Eirik with pleading eyes, completely different from her earlier confident demeanor when she had loudly invited people to have some food. Seeing her nervousness, Eirik bent down with a gentle smile.
“Please, tell me what I need to do. I practically grew up on the battlefield and have never even witnessed a blessing before.”
Comforted by his soft tone, the old lady raised the baby she held with her cracked, bark-like hands.
“Sir, please hold the baby and give your blessing.”
“Didn’t he say earlier he’s a merchant…”
Someone murmured, but the twins’ father clamped his hand over their mouth and spoke up.
“If he fought in the war, then he’s a knight, alright? And such a dignified, handsome knight blessing our children—everyone, be quiet!”
If one of the proud Cladnier knights, especially the yet-to-be-knighted squires, had heard that statement, they would have been furious. But it was just the ramblings of a tipsy villager, with no intention of offending anyone. So Eirik merely smiled wryly as he awkwardly took the baby in his arms. He gazed down at the baby’s pale face for a moment, then closed his eyes and spoke a prayer.
“…May the goddess shine her bright light upon this child’s path, and may the entire family live a healthy, peaceful life.”
“Thank you, thank you.”
With two babies, the blessing was given twice. When Eirik took the second baby into his arms, he seemed more at ease, and after finishing the prayer, he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the child.
“Which one is the boy?”
“The one you’re holding now is the son, and the previous one was the daughter.”
“The girl will be safer growing up with her parents in the village rather than in the city. But if the boy, after turning twelve, wants to learn the sword, send him to Cladis.”
As he handed the baby boy back, Eirik added, “Tell them to find Cullen, the Baron of Emmanes.”
“Oh, thank you! This is such an honor…!”
The crowd surrounding them couldn’t hide their excitement, but Miesa simply stared at Eirik’s face.
“Does the food not suit your taste?”
They were back at their lodging, having dinner. Seeing Miesa distractedly picking at her food, Eirik asked with concern.
“The food is fine, but I have something on my mind.”
Eirik smiled faintly at her response. What could be on her mind in that little head of hers?
“What’s got you thinking so deeply?”
Since she didn’t seem troubled by any immediate danger, Eirik took a bite of his boar roast. It was a bit gamey, but still edible. However, then Miesa spoke.
“My body has recovered, and our situation is stable now, hasn’t it?”
Eirik raised his eyebrows at the sudden question. “All of a sudden? Well, yes, I suppose so.”
“I’m ready now.”
Eirik quickly put down his fork and knife. This wasn’t the time to be eating boar meat—the conversation was taking an unexpected turn.
“Ready for what, exactly?”
“Let’s have a child.”
Though he hoped he was wrong, Eirik realized he wasn’t. He quickly thought back to the day’s events, remembering the blessings he had given to the children.
“Did it seem like I wanted children earlier?”
“Well, it’s not like you don’t want them. Why? Don’t you?”
“No, it’s not about wanting or not wanting.”
Seeing Miesa’s wide eyes, he started to explain the reasons.
“First, I plan to reward them with five barrels of Cladite when we return. It’s to thank them for entertaining you, even if it was brief. And about suggesting that they send their son to us when he grows up—that was just because I thought he’d be strong, given his parents’ build. Nothing more.”
“……”
“I have to think about the future Cladnier knights twenty years from now. Oh, and I’ve also recommended that Cullen’s eldest join the order. He’s got a knack for archery, just like his father.”
While Miesa sat there pouting, Eirik continued, “There’s no need to rush regarding the succession. Most importantly, having a child isn’t something to do impulsively. You have to consider the burden that comes with childbirth.”
“What burden?”
Eirik knew why Miesa had hesitated until now. But he couldn’t figure out what had made her change her mind overnight.
“First, tell me why you’ve changed your decision.”
When he asked, Miesa quickly shared her thoughts.
“First of all, I’ve always felt guilty about depriving you of the chance to have a child. I’m the only one who can ‘make you a father.'”
“Didn’t we decide to adopt? A family formed by choosing and accepting each other can be even more precious.”
Eirik had already been observing three or four children, around ten years old, who could understand things to some extent. However, what Miesa wanted was not an heir but their own child.
“There are other reasons too. I’ve always been curious about what a child who looks like both of us would be like. How would they take after each of us?”
“They would certainly be cute, but we can’t have a child just to see what they look like.”
“Still, if we had a baby who looked like us, how adorable would they be? Soft and fluffy… They’d be even cuter than Hagail’s child. Sorry to Gella, though.”
“And they would also cry loudly at the same time. Plus, the process of giving birth would be unbearably painful.”
Eirik was not easily swayed. Given Miesa’s unstable health for a long time, and the considerable time they had agreed not to have children, he had already made up his mind.
“Eirik, pain is not an issue. I always tell you that.”
“No, sometimes it could cost your life. That’s the biggest issue.”
“But I’ve never actually seen anyone die from childbirth. Besides, I’m incredibly healthy now.”
Miesa stood her ground as well. She had seen young, healthy women from Cladis easily give birth to three or four children, and most of the deaths she had witnessed were from causes other than childbirth.
“Just because you haven’t witnessed it doesn’t mean it’s without danger, does it?”
Not understanding why the usually rational Miesa was being so obstinate, Eirik stressed his point again. “There’s no need to risk your life. Just the two of us is enough.”
“Everyone else does it.”
“Everyone else risks their lives to give birth.”
The argument continued late into the night until Miesa finally dozed off.