I Became a Childhood Friend With the Villainous Saintess

Chapter 88: Count Eshk’s Territory (2)

If I recall the timing correctly, it was yesterday morning.

A letter had arrived from Dersian Eshik, heir to the House of Count Eshk.

It was, in essence, an invitation.

An invitation one simply couldn’t refuse.

[Obituary of Count Reman Eshik]

We solemnly announce the passing of the House of Eshik’s pillar and the Empire’s enduring shield, who has departed after a long illness.

Though he could not overcome the sickness, he passed peacefully in the end.

As his son, I intend to honor his departure with a heart full of light.

From Viscount Dersian Eshik.

Count Eshk was dead.

In other words, Dersian’s father had passed away.

Count Eshk had died of illness.

It might have come as a shock to others, but I had suspected it.

Even in the original story, Dersian was shown to have inherited the family title early. He rarely had any reasons to cross the northern mountains, after all.

Of course, not everyone saw it that way.

The House of Eshik was one of the most prestigious noble families in the Empire.

Its close proximity to Edelmarion had earned it the public moniker: the Empire’s final shield.

A name inherited from an era when the Empire’s power was waning — legends spoke of a desperate battle that ended with the capital secured.

An old and influential noble house.

Naturally, nobles from all corners of the Empire, not just the central court, would be flocking to the Eshik estate.

“You seem to know Isha pretty well, Razen.”

“I spar with her whenever I have time, don’t I?”

“Hm~ Makes me think I should’ve trained more with the sword too. Bit of a regret.”

“Why bother? If you got good at swordplay too, I’d be out of a job.”

Sirien narrowed her eyes.

She seemed to have a lot to say, but instead broke into a small laugh, her expression softening.

“How do you think Isha feels? Is she getting along well with Dersian?”

“Hard to say. She doesn’t seem to dislike him, at least. But whether that’ll blossom into anything more... who knows.”

“She’s still not in a place emotionally for that?”

“Probably. Her skills are in a transitional phase — I bet her mind’s filled with nothing but the sword. Once she stabilizes, maybe that’ll change. The fact that she chose to come with us might mean she’s at least curious.”

Isha and Dersian had been steadily growing closer.

More accurately, Dersian had been reaching out, and Isha hadn’t been pushing him away.

If Sirien was a puppy sweet only to me, then Isha was a cat indifferent to everyone.

Almost too jaded for her age. On the surface, she seemed detached — like she lived in a world of her own.

Still, Dersian’s efforts weren’t in vain.

It was a time of revelations, like a tidal wave rushing in. For Isha to choose to follow us during such a critical period — that must’ve taken significant resolve.

Sirien sighed.

“You were like that too, Razen. You have no idea how upset I was back then.”

“Me? Really? I don’t remember going through a phase like that.”

“You did. I’d talk to you and you’d barely respond, always zoning out. If I couldn’t find you, you’d be at the training grounds. I waited in the cold for so long that day — it was the first time I thought I’d freeze to death.”

Her eyes pierced me with a silent scolding.

“…Now that you mention it, I guess that did happen.”

“‘Guess’? Ugh, thinking back makes me mad. I cried alone that day, you know? I didn’t want to make a scene, so I buried my face in my pillow and cried.”

“M-my bad. I really didn’t know. Honestly!”

“Of course you didn’t. I acted like I was fine around you. Idiot. I’m getting mad again, so hurry and give me some pats.”

I gently patted her back just like she asked.

She must’ve swallowed all that sadness on her own without me ever noticing.

We talk so openly now, but back then, she never let her struggles show.

Even when she grumbled about how rough her clothes felt in the cabin, she didn’t really complain.

She once told me she endured because we were all together — that the fun of playing together made it bearable.

It didn’t take much to lift her spirits.

A simple pat on the back, a touch of affection — that was enough to make Sirien genuinely happy.

I really had been pretty thoughtless.

I pulled Sirien close and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Eh? What was that for?”

“No reason. I just want you to stay strong.”

“U-uh… Hehe. Okay. I will.”

Her bright, smiling face was beautiful.

As I cheered Sirien up, we soon arrived at Count Eshk’s estate.

At the gates, the guards asked for our purpose. Once we showed them the obituary letter, they led us down a separate road.

It looked like it had been cleared in advance.

The guards were swift and well-trained.

Judging by their composure, other guests must’ve already arrived.

Then again, when it comes to the House of Eshik, even the laziest nobles would move quickly.

We passed through the streets of the territory, and the grand castle — etched with time — grew closer.

Sirien leaned on her hand and gazed out at the scenery.

“It’s nice. Feels old but not worn down. The streets are well-kept too. If Baron Esquente manages his land well in the future, I imagine it’d feel like this.”

“He’d love to hear that.”

“I’m not telling him. If he gets cocky, he’s insufferable.”

Perhaps word had already reached the castle — Dersian was waiting at the entrance.

He recognized us and offered a soft smile.

Lords with land close to the capital rarely grow their influence too much.

The Imperial Family must never perceive them as a threat.

That’s why no one referred to Count Eshk as a “grand noble” like Duke Eilencia.

Yet with centuries of legacy and real political sway, the House of Eshik commanded respect beyond mere strength.

Not a single noble in the central court dared look down on them.

Dersian was the heir to that noble house.

And now, he bowed politely to Sirien.

“Thank you for coming. I’ve been waiting.”

“My condolences for your loss. I didn’t expect you to greet us personally — I’m sure you have many other guests.”

“I felt guilty. I heard something serious happened on your end recently, but I couldn’t attend due to family matters.”

It still felt strange to see him like this.

In the original, there was that cathartic moment where he held his head high in defiance.

Dersian, who once challenged Sirien without caring for appearances.

Sirien responded by tightening the screws on House Eshik in every possible way, and he took an interest in the resulting drama.

Come to think of it, Dersian had been one of the earliest antagonists toward Sirien in the original.

It wasn’t as if the female lead had personally influenced events. He hadn’t even seen Elise as special back then.

So what had set him off?

“You had your duties as heir. I’m not so petty as to hold a grudge over that.”

“I appreciate your understanding. I’m both grateful and sorry you came all this way. Is Baron Esquente doing well?”

“I heard he just needs a few weeks of rest. He asked me to send his regards.”

“Please tell him I’m fine as well. I’ll visit as soon as my duties here are done.”

“He’ll be happy to hear that.”

They exchanged polite words, maintaining proper etiquette under watchful eyes.

Even so, I kept a close eye on Dersian’s gaze.

At first, his eyes landed on Isha, who had followed behind us — and they immediately widened.

It wasn’t just my imagination that his expression brightened.

Dersian’s affection was clearly still burning strong.

Of course, that aside, the atmosphere inside the funeral hall was solemn and heavy with reverence.

Nobles dressed in black mourning attire turned their attention toward us.

A familiar gaze.

Eyes meant to judge and evaluate us.

It was practically a foregone conclusion that Dersian would inherit the countship and become the new lord.

They were likely curious about the people to whom such a successor had bowed his head so willingly.

And the name Hibras — to them, it was probably nothing more than an unfamiliar religion.

“Then… the, uh… G-Guardian of Hebras?”

This time, Dersian’s attention shifted to me.

He didn’t show it overtly, but his eyes were filled with subtle suspicion.

Both Sirien and I had our faces hidden.

Sirien wore a veil and face covering that obscured nearly all her features, and I had donned a full mask.

Our attire and the markings of Hebras made it clear who we were, but considering how openly we’d revealed ourselves not long ago, he was probably wondering why we were concealing ourselves now.

Then again, it wasn’t unusual for the Saint of a religious order to hide her face.

But for the Guardian to wear a mask as well? That was rare.

If I’d come clad in full armor with a helmet, maybe it would’ve been overlooked — but this was a funeral, not a battlefield.

It was only natural for Dersian to find it odd.

“I have personal reasons for wearing the mask. I hope it doesn’t cause offense.”

“Ah, no—of course not. I heard you were injured. Please, feel free to keep it on. No one will consider it disrespectful.”

Dersian lied smoothly and without hesitation.

Naturally, I wasn’t injured — his words were spoken solely to protect me.

And with Dersian going that far, no one else was likely to raise questions.

I gave a small bow in gratitude.

“Thank you for your understanding.”

“It’s nothing. The preparations for the ceremony are nearly complete. Please, follow me.”

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