The past week after Marcus’s birthday was hectic, one could say.

  While Marcus and Stella worked on getting her charities’ financial problems in order, behind their back, the Sordalian royal court bickered and fought each other extensively about how they would deal with Stella and Marcus. The king, for all his faults, was extremely receptive to nearly all demands that Stella submitted to him.

  ‘After all, that man saved her not once, but twice, even against a diamond-ranked earth elemental!’ the man once said to his court advisors.

  The other elves, though, nobles, the lot of them, grumbled and shook their heads. Marcus, who routinely used [Mass Surveillance] to make sure that he and Stella always had a good idea of what was happening in the palace, knew that he and she were subject to much gossip and backtalk. It also didn’t help that Stella barely talked to her siblings, the elven princes and princesses, most of whom regarded Marcus with much suspicion.

  Even her mother, who was apparently slightly sick at the moment and was recovering after she conducted a high-level magical ritual of some sort for the kingdom, apparently was largely only neutral about Marcus. All in all, in the palace’s environment, in an ironic twist of fate, it was only King Alois that was an ‘ally’ in a sense for Marcus and Stella.

  That was why, in Marcus’s stay at the royal palace, he found himself harassed by low-level guards, officers, clerks, and whatnot. Since his strength was well-established, and since the damned king himself backed him, his newfound opponents in the palace did the only best thing they could do to drive them off from Stella’s camp—by bureaucracy, red tape, and scandalous talk.

  Unfortunately, Stella had a knack for cutting through bureaucracy and red tape rather easily when needed; the king himself could order things around, and those two wouldn’t matter, and scandalous talk only truly mattered if Stella was someone who desperately wanted to maintain her reputation in high society. Stella wasn’t exactly the type of royal who ever had a spotless reputation.

  Instead, as [Saint], her reputation only came from her acts of charity and her service to the kingdom, instead of the pomp and pageantry that was all too common with other high nobles and royal figures. And so, no matter how hard the opposition tried, a week after Marcus’s birthday, Stella’s request to name him as her personal knight was approved.

  Today was that day, and to be quite frank, Marcus was very nervous.

  “Is this really necessary?” Marcus awkwardly asked, trying his best to sit straight as Phoebe fixed his clothes while Marie tended to his hair.

  “Your appearance in front of the royal family is very important,” Marie said sweetly. “Besides, think about Stella. Don’t you think the princess will appreciate it if her first knight is oh so handsome?”

  “Yes, but…”

  Marcus groaned. He truly wasn’t used to this. His clothes, his style, everything was picked by the two maids. He basically panicked when they told him that it had to be done, and it was only they who could do it due to Marcus maintaining his anonymity, save for the royal family and a few most trusted palace servants and officials, so he wouldn’t be able to get manservants to do the whole clothing him up thing.

  Luckily, Phoebe blankly told him earlier that they were only going to fix him after he had his shorts and sleeveless shirt on. He basically panicked for nothing, but still, even now, he truly wasn’t used to this. Even the bath he took was carefully curated, to make sure that his skin and hair looked ‘perfect.’

  Again, Marcus was a damned soldier. Further, he was a commoner. Since he was born, he always looked like shit because he worked a shitty and dirty job. The idea that he would be dolled up to look like a proper nobleman or knight type of guy was alien to him. Even when he fixed himself to look proper and professional, it was only the basics, like shaving, taking a bath, and picking decent clothes.

  Now though…

  It took thirty minutes. Thirty damned minutes! He didn’t even know that there were a lot of things to be fixed about his hair and face. They even applied some light makeup on him, which was utterly outrageous. But he had no choice. He agreed to be Stella’s knight; he had to look like one for the ceremony.

  When it ended, he finally managed to get a look at himself in the mirror.

  He was wearing a dark blue coat with epaulettes and a red sash, light blue trousers, and black boots. He was also given a feathered tricorne, which he could wear when needed. All in all, he indeed looked like a proper gentleman, a high-ranking officer, or, in this case, a knight of royalty. He stared at the image in front of him with muted shock. He looked like someone who would belong to those fancy paintings of military figures.

  Then he turned to Phoebe.

  “That’s not me,” he said.

  The elven maid smiled. “Indeed. You normally should look more uncouth.”

  “Right.” Marcus nodded in absolute agreement.

  He rested his hand on the pommel of the sword he was issued. It was a ceremonial saber, though he could actually use it if needed, as it was an enchanted item, an artifact from the age of gods that was recovered in one of the most dangerous dungeons. It was sitting unused in the royal family’s inventory of prized artifacts, and so, the king decided to grant it to Marcus.

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  Of course, he was more used to his rapiers, so he was only going to keep it today for the ceremony. Maybe he’d use it one day if he got used to it, because he could carry it in his bags of holding, but for now, he just struck a pose with it. He frowned before shaking his head.

  “Damn.”

  Then, he walked away from the mirror, utterly bewildered about everything that was happening.

  “Oh…there you are.” Stella’s smile bloomed like a rose as she met Marcus in the hallway. Marcus had been trying his best to walk as dignified as possible, trying his best not to seem nervous by tugging his collar. It especially became a little bit more awkward when he noticed Stella staring a bit too long at him.

  There’s no way, right?

  He looked down slightly to his left as Stella placed a hand on her mouth and giggled a bit. “You sure look like a knight, Marcus!”

  “I can’t believe it myself,” Marcus said, his tone a mumble. “...Who’s inside, by the way?”

  “Only Father is,” Stella said. “The ceremony will be between the three of us alone. That’s how private it is.”

  He hadn’t seen many people in the palace either, as if this day was reserved just for him. Apparently, King Aolis also saw a benefit for now in having an anonymous knight for his daughter. ‘You can move and save her if need be without the enemy noticing!’ the old man said last night, when Marcus finally revealed his face to the king for the first time.

  Normally, to be knighted was a public event. He certainly appreciated that it would be a more private one, as he still hadn’t fully decided to reveal himself to everyone else, outside of Stella and the few people who were his close allies, and of course, the king, who seemed to be genuinely on his side out of sheer pragmatism.

  Maybe one day, I can…

  But for now, this would do. Stella and Marcus soon entered the throne hall. The lights inside were gentle, the golden glow of the morning sunlight bouncing lazily from the floor. Marcus strode forward, his steps controlled, his back straight. Then, when he looked up at the king, who was sitting comfortably on the throne with a smile, he stood stiffly.

  “Sir Marcus Liebermann,” King Aolis grinned. “Now that is the face of a true warrior. You look mighty sharp today.”

  Marcus didn’t reply, merely placing his hand behind his back. The king chuckled. “Still quite stiff, I see. Well, you know, in this ceremony, you’re meant to kneel to me.”

  Marcus remained standing. For a brief moment, a flicker of annoyance appeared in the king’s face. Aolis clearly wanted to be the one to conduct and finish the knight ceremony, with Marcus kneeling to him, but Marcus refused, even if he was informed in advance that it was how this ceremony should be conducted.

  I won’t kneel to anyone. Not to a noble, not to a king, not even to an emperor.

  He held his chin high, as King Aolis seemed to continue observing him. When he agreed to be knighted, he refused the possibility of joining Sordale’s knight orders. He wouldn’t be the king’s sword, nor would he be Sordale’s sword. He already served a nation once, after all. He had no reason to serve another.

  Right then, Stella’s face flashed in his eyes, replacing King Aolis’s annoyed expression.

  I can only accept serving one person.

  Beside him, Stella lightly giggled again, shaking her head, before she walked to Aolis’s throne. She looked at the ornate longsword that Aolis held. There were no words exchanged between father and daughter, but with a simple nod, Aolis gave the sword to Stella with a resigned sigh. Then, he straightened himself on the seat.

  Stella, on the other hand, walked down the stairs, straight to Marcus. When she stopped, at last, Marcus finally knelt. This is it. Marcus held his breath as Stella raised the longsword up high. Princess, I’ll be your sword.

  He already worked for a long time with her. He already knew so many things about her. He loved spending time, and his life, with her. Quite frankly, all that was left was for him to muster the courage to one day say the truth to her, but for now, he would be able to do one thing.

  I want to be your knight.

  “Sir Marcus Liebermann,” Stella recited. “After your actions of saving me from the Death God Cult and your actions of saving many more people as you vanquished groups of this evil sect, you have proven yourself an honorable and gallant man, capable of protecting those weaker than you.”

  Stella smiled slightly. “It would be a great honor to have you as my knight, Sir Marcus. Will you serve me as my sword?”

  “Yes,” Marcus answered resolutely.

  “Will you serve me to maintain my dignity, safety, and honor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you fight for me, even in the face of death?”

  “Yes.”

  Stella placed the sword above Marcus. “Then you shall be my personal knight. It is an honor to have you with me.”

  “It’s an honor for me too, princess.”

  Marcus soon finally stood up and looked back at Aolis, who now somehow had a proud smile on his face. The king rested his chin on his hand, nodding.

  “That was beautiful,” Aolis declared. “May I have a word with Sir Marcus, at least? I know you’ll never bow to me, and that you’ll never become one of my fine knights, but I wish to request something.”

  Stella stood beside Marcus, and Marcus, debating his options whether to accept Aolis’s potential request, eventually nodded. “Sure. What is it?”

  Aolis stood up, keeping his hands on his back.

  “Protect my daughter,” Aolis said. “Bring her back home. I know that she’s going to go out on an adventure to do great things for the world, and she will be out of my control. Surely, you can understand how a father of such a good daughter will feel in times like that?”

  “Yes?”

  Aolis nodded. “I am not perfect. I admit that I have not been the best father to my dear Stella.” He seemed genuinely apologetic; even Stella briefly held her chest. “But, I want to at least see her face after she’s done her work as the [Saint]. Sir Marcus, please…I beg of you…when you two are done with your mission, I want to see her again, happy and in one piece.”

  The king nearly teared up a bit, but he steeled himself, laughing to disperse his emotions.

  “Can you do that for me, Sir Marcus?”

  Marcus, of course, only nodded and smiled.

  “Of course. I’ll try my best to be her finest knight no matter what, Your Majesty.”