Seraphine put down her spoon slowly. Casting soundproofed magic around them, she then stated carefully.
"I know that you're the youngest Holy Knight Commander of the World Tree Temple in history, Armand Fontaine. You are the second son of First Regent of Zenet Dominion. You joined the Temple when you were six, and took the Commander position when you were twenty-seven."
"That's just public information."
"You led a successful campaign against the giants in Baraha Plain when you were twenty-eight, and the werewolves' subjugation mission before you turned thirty... and for some reason, accepted an impossible mission of finding the ever elusive Apostle of the World Tree."
Armand took another sip of wine. "Again, except for the last part, public information."
"I'm sorry I haven't been more interested in your life. That's all I know." In truth, because of Istaroth, she was aware of some things this man had to face in the future. But she indeed knew next to nothing about his past. After all, she did not possess the 'Memory's Eyes'.
"I was just wondering why the Temple made an absurd decision of sending their best knight to what they must think is a wild goose chase."
Smiling wryly, Armand put down his glass.
"Are you aware that I'm an illegitimate child?"
"...I've heard rumours."
"It's true. My mother was an opera singer. The only reason the Regent took me in was that his first son suffered what seemed to be an incurable illness at that time. He recovered eventually, and I simply became an eyesore. It's a common story."
Seraphine sat back. "You entered the temple when you were six and have been living apart from them until now, even taking up the neutral title of Holy Knight Commander. Surely they don't think you still threaten the first son's position?" However, once she said that, she doubted herself. A divine power holder, the most talented swordsman in all twelve Dominions, the youngest Holy Knight Commander... this man shone too brightly for anyone to ignore.
Seemingly reading her thoughts, Armand just smiled, not answering. Seraphine sighed, taking out her steel fan and playing with it out of habit.
"...it must have been hard on you."
Again, Armand was surprised. He had expected her to dig deeper, to try to understand the reasoning behind it, to question his decision to leave. He could not help but be reminded of his Knight Paladins, who were his brothers and sisters-in-arms - they had an extremely difficult time accepting his decision. After all, accepting this seemingly impossible mission was no different from being exiled. Except for critical missions that required his participation, he would have to spend the rest of his life wandering in search of the Apostle.
He looked at the woman sitting across from him, whose midnight-hair draped gently over her shoulders. Ordinarily, he would avoid this kind of conversation, but somehow tonight, he did not seem to mind it as much.
The pair continued with light conversation until Flint and Darryl returned from escorting Lia home. The group exchanged stories on what happened in and outside the cave over dinner.
The situation outside turned out to be much less eventful, although they gained some more information on Jerome Flagrant. The head of the Flagrant family had been serving as the Third Regent, traditionally responsible for trade and foreign relations. Not only that, Sir Kingsley's son had been promised to their second daughter.
After Darryl finished eating, Seraphine offered to show him the location of the bathhouse. They then excused themselves, leaving Armand and Flint.
"Alright," Flint grabbed their now-empty glasses and headed towards the bar. "Ale? Wine?"
"Just water for me, please."
"You're no fun. More wine it is."
Armand chuckled.
When Flint came back, he put on a serious face and asked. "So, what do you think?"
"About what?"
"Everything. This past week, it's been a bit crazy, don't you think?"
"I guess so." After almost two years of wandering the deepest and farthest corners of the continent, Armand was no stranger to strange situations.
Flint raised his eyebrow. "We met that old woman, then that insanely powerful lady, and all of these kidnapped children and the land of the dragons?"
"Seraphine did manage to lift your curse, although partly."
"Well, true, but - " Flint stopped himself, then smirked. "Oh, on a first-name basis now, are we?"
Armand stared a dagger at him. "After going through several life-threatening situations together, I don't think it's that strange."
"Who says anything?" Flint continued smirking. "Anyway, you're right. I owe Lady Mizan a lifetime debt. I just wish to know more about what I'm getting myself into."
"...so do I."
Unlike his reckless and flippant impression, Armand knew that Flint was more thoughtful and cautious than he let on. After all, that was how he managed to survive being a mercenary for so long.
"Thinking about it, it's nearly that day..." Flint's distant gaze shifted to the sight of the moonless night out the window, looking hollow.
Startled, Armand hesitantly nodded. "Ah, yes."
While they had only been travelling together for three months after coincidentally meeting in Radcliffe, they had known each other from way back, starting from Armand's very first monster subjugation mission. Precisely, fifteen years ago - before tragedy struck Flint's family, taking his wife and daughter and inflicting the curse on him.
"Time passes, eh? If you told me years ago I'd be drinking with a stuck-up holy knight brat, I wouldn't believe it!" Armand winced as Flint slapped him hard on the back, laughing. His melancholic expression had disappeared, but Armand knew the date of his wife and daughter's death anniversary never left his mind.
However, he knew that Flint hated what he called 'sappy talk'. There was one occasion he opened up to Armand, and after that, never again.
Armand sighed. "If you told me I'd be sitting here with a relic of a mercenary and a drunk, I wouldn't believe it either."
"This brat!"