A squirrel jumped from branch to branch, keeping an eye on three figures making their way on a downhill path lightly covered with snow.
Step, step.
"Fudge. That was close."
Seven almost slipped from the snow.
Iria managed to grab him by his forearm, supporting him to regain his balance.
"Are you certain you are not cold, my lord? Do you require me to provide you more warmth?"
"Don't bother. This is more than enough, for now."
"I understand."
Seven extended his palm, catching a falling snowflake.
Thanks to Iria's magic, a thin layer of zi is wrapped around his skin like a protective barrier, mainly serving two purposes: to prevent the cold, and to trap the warmth within.
"Please tell me if you begin to feel the chill again."
"Aight."
Putting the coldness aside, Iria was worried about another thing— whether Seven would be able to handle and absorb the stimuli of the outside world.
He had spent his whole fifteen years inside the manor, after all. A bird caged all its life does not instantly learn how to fly, even if freed out the cage.
Iria generally opposed this notion.
Going out and exposing himself to the public also clearly invites trouble no matter where you look at it, even if his appearance remains a mystery, even to the knights assigned under the name of the youngest Hart.
That includes the knight accompanying them as of the moment.
"Hey. You've been staring at me since we left the gates. Am I that interesting?"
"Ah."
The knight immediately averted his gaze.
"I offer my apologies, young lord. I have stood guard at the manor for fifteen years, yet I was never once granted the honor of an audience."
"And now that you have?"
"I am perplexed, young lord. You are different from what I had expected."
"Disappointed?"
The knight dropped to his knees, kneeling squarely against the snow.
"I, Edward Heinrich, would not even dare think of such preposterousness, young lord."
"Be honest with me. It's not like I would eat you alive."
Seven shifted his gaze to a squirrel perched on a nearby branch, busy munching an acorn.
The knight gulped.
"It is because you seem so much more ordinary than your older siblings, young lord."
"...!!"
The acorn slipped from the squirrel's paws, tumbling into the snow.
Seven nearly choked from trying to hold back his sarcastic laughter.
'Ordinary, eh…? If not for the curse… would I have been a monster like them?'
Such thoughts crossed his mind, but thinking of that wouldn't change anything.
"...Let's go."
"As you command."
The three continued their walk downhill.
According to Iria, the distance between the village and the manor is roughly about two kilometers. If not because of the snow, they had already arrived by now after twenty minutes of walking.
Step, step.
After a while, they had finally arrived.
Iria halted first as she gestured at the settlement below.
"We have arrived, my lord. That is the village of Neamh."
His gaze followed the direction of Iria's fingers.
The valley opened wide beneath them, flanked on both sides by tall mountains thick with pine trees that climbed almost to the peaks.
Snow lay lightly over the land, softening the edges of rooftops and fences, turning the slopes into layered shades of green and white.
"It's… unexpected."
Seven was fascinated.
Neamh rested at the center of the valley, its houses slightly scattered instead of clustered tightly together.
Most were wooden, built from thick timber planks with slanted roofs designed to endure heavy rain and snow. Thin trails of smoke curled from chimneys, rising lazily into the pale sky.
A single dirt road curved into the village before splitting into smaller paths that wound between the homes and toward the surrounding fields.
Low wooden fences marked property lines, their tops traced in white. Behind them sat enclosed vegetable gardens and small storage sheds, some already covered with protective cloth and boards against the cold.
Beyond the last row of houses, farmland stretched outward in neat rectangular plots with narrow walking paths and short stone walls divided the land.
To put it simply, the village looked exactly like the stories of the grandparents telling their grandchildren before they went to sleep.
Iria's expression softened after seeing him dazed and unmoving, flabbergasted by such a sight.
"Let us go, my lord. The village is even more fascinating up close."
Step, step.
The entrance of the village was made up of a simple wooden gate built from a rough cut of timber slats, secured by iron hinges between the dry stone wall stacked together without mortar.
The wall was only a waist high.
Heinrich slowed his pace and halted after passing the gate.
"I ask for your patience, young lord. Please allow me to change my attire, presuming you do not wish to announce your arrival."
Iria looked at Seven.
"Go ahead."
"I appreciate your understanding, young lord."
Heinrich walked away and entered the closest house by the gate. It was not that big, but it had a second floor on its wooden tower.
"That is the gatehouse, my lord. Most of the manor's knights are from this village, though a few are assigned here for regular patrol."
"Is that really necessary?"
Seven looked around.
From what he could see, this was but a simple and peaceful village that most people would dream of. The only noise that could be heard were those from the livestock.
"It is, my lord. Every few hours, merchants from outside pass through or visit to buy the village's produce. Not all of them are trustworthy."
A knight moved along the far side of the road, wearing a pair of leather boots and a single poleyn guarded his right knee. A sword hung at his knee.
The knight's gaze narrowed as he approached them. Two figures lingering near the entrance were not the sort one simply ignored.
But before the knight could close the distance…
"Galahad!"
Heinrich's voice carried from the gatehouse, and the knight halted at once.
Heinrich stepped out, dressed in a brown tunic and gray braies (trousers) with a sword at his hip. Leather boots covered his feet, and a single poleyn guarded his knee
Galahad turned sharply and bowed, one hand resting over the handle of his sword.
"I greet the Vice Commander, Sir Heinrich!"
Heinrich waved a hand dismissively.
"Never mind that. Come here."
"At once, sir."
Galahad stepped closer.
Heinrich leaned in and spoke in a whisper, and Galahad listened intently, nodding repeatedly.
After that, Galahad cast a brief glance toward Iria and Seven before resuming his patrol down the village pathway as if nothing had occurred.
Heinrich returned near the entrance.
"My apologies, young lord. I had some difficulty finding suitable clothes in the gatehouse."
"I… don't mind. Let's go."
Seven stepped forward, but no footsteps echoed after him except for Iria.
Glanced back, there was Heinrich who remained unmoving in where he stood with a straight posture.
"Sir Heinrich. Is something the matter?"
Iria asked in Seven's place.
"You may proceed ahead, young lord. I forgot that I have to keep my distance, but rest assured, I will still be watching at all times."
"…I see."
Seven understood what Heinrich meant.
That is, Heinrich is well-known in the village. Galahad had also addressed him as the 'Vice Commander' thus walking openly beside him would only arouse suspicion.
It had been two months since Heinrich last descended to the village, so he momentarily forgot that changing into these set of clothes was not needed.
"I have also relayed a message to the other patrol knights to remain attentive. You may shop freely and not concern your safety, young lord."
"I'll… keep that in mind."
Seven looked at Iria.
"Iria, let's—"
Iria led him forward through his sleeves.
"Let us go, my lord. To the village of Neamh."