Shadow's Oath

[Translator - Jjescus]

[Proofreader - Gun]

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Chapter 27: Wine (2)

The guards protecting the chieftain’s tent allowed Damion to enter without any resistance.

This was a place even Count Vadio and other curious royal knights couldn’t pass through.

Of course, Ram always had free passage, but the prince did not share such privileges.

It seemed there had been special instructions from Terdin regarding him.

Jedrick, who was lounging in a slightly reclined position while reading a book, was startled to see Damion barging in unannounced.

He quickly straightened up.

“I told you before, didn’t I? I’d bring the liquor.”

Damion abruptly sat down and handed a glass of wine to Jedrick.

He then extended one to Ram as well.

“You drink too.”

“I can’t.”

Ram replied firmly.

“When I say drink, you drink.”

“My duty is to protect you both.”

“Such a rigid fellow. The general was right about you.”

Ram almost responded with, “Yes, it’s true,” but stopped himself.

To avoid revealing that he had overheard the earlier conversation, he pretended ignorance.

“Fine. You’re not my subordinate, so I can’t order you to drink. But at least take the glass. There’s an old saying: if anyone is without a glass during a toast, uninvited spirits may show up.”

That was the first Ram had heard of such a superstition.

Perhaps it was a regional thing?

“You wouldn’t want a spirit to visit me, would you?”

The prince once again held out the glass.

“Fine, I’ll just hold it.”

Ram accepted the glass with both hands and allowed the prince to pour a small amount of wine.

Jedrick didn’t particularly refuse the offer.

Boredom from his life as a prisoner must have made the idea of some entertainment welcome.

Despite his youth, Geronians were probably accustomed to drinking from an even younger age.

At first, Jedrick sipped cautiously—not out of fear of poison, but with an expression that said, ‘Is this even supposed to taste good?’

Soon enough, however, he seemed to like it and began drinking enthusiastically.

“Wine isn’t meant to be consumed like that,”

Damion pointed out.

“I’ve never heard of a ‘proper’ way to drink liquor,”

Jedrick replied, ignoring him and pouring another glass for himself.

Damion reprimanded him again.

“Wine isn’t meant to be poured so carelessly.”

“Does the taste change if you pour it differently?”

“…I wouldn’t know.”

“Then how should it be poured?”

“Gently, as if handling a delicate woman—with finesse.”

“People from the North don’t treat women delicately.”

“…Then how do you treat them?”

“The same as men. Why should there be a difference?”

“Women are weaker than men, so you should be careful.”

“Never say that to a woman in Geron. It’s the one thing they hate hearing most.”

“So, women go into battle too?”

“If there are 80 men, there are 20 women. Some women are weak, just as some men are.”

Jedrick poured more wine clumsily and drank deeply again.

Damion, after staring at his wine glass for a while, finally poured it in the same careless way and drank it down just as Jedrick did. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

He muttered almost inaudibly,

“This is really expensive… Is this okay?”

Ram didn’t drink but could tell from the aroma that it was a fine wine.

In Selken Castle, there was a cave cellar where the temperature remained steady year-round.

Half of it was filled with wine.

Ram occasionally followed the steward to retrieve wine from there.

The steward strictly adhered to a predetermined list.

The wine brought up from that cellar was never served to guests.

There was a separate storage area for guest wine, where any servant could grab a bottle without concern.

But the wine from the cave cellar was reserved solely for the baron, who savored it with great care.

He would sniff, taste, and delicately swirl the wine as if it would shatter with vigorous movement.

Here, however, the two young men drank with loud gulps.

Damion had not initially planned to drink this way, but Jedrick’s comment—’Your wine is so weak it’s only fit to warm you up in the morning after waking’—sparked a competitive spirit.

Judging by his flushed face, however, Jedrick didn’t seem particularly good with alcohol either.

The wine ran out quickly.

Though they lamented the lack of more, neither asked for another bottle.

Ram was relieved there had only been one bottle to start with.

Drunk, Damion rambled on about the history of Triton and the invasion wars of the Principality of Born.

Jedrick didn’t seem particularly entertained, but he listened without yawning.

Jedrick enjoyed listening to stories.

He would often ask Ram to tell him tales under the guise of practicing the language, but Ram, lacking the gift of storytelling, could only share brief anecdotes.

Perhaps that was why Jedrick, despite his apparent dislike of Damion, didn’t interrupt him.

“And that’s how the Duke of Vormont’s daughter ended up visiting,”

Damion concluded, looking at Jedrick expectantly.

Jedrick fell silent, deep in thought.

Damion, sounding slightly apologetic, asked,

“Hmm, was it too hard for you to understand?”

Though the question carried a hint of condescension, Jedrick responded without any trace of annoyance.

“No, I just couldn’t organize it in my head.”

“Well, there were some technical terms, and you’re probably not interested in our history…”

[Translator - Jjescus]

[Proofreader - Gun]

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“It wasn’t the terminology. It’s just that your pronunciation is unfamiliar. Does Vormont speak a different language from Triton?”

Jedrick asked, tilting his head.

“Both speak the common language of the South. However, the pronunciation and vocabulary differ slightly, don’t they?”

“Let me summarize then. The Vormont family are lords who own the Born region, which is about one-third the size of the Triton Kingdom. Is that correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Their name is Lancis Vormont, correct pronunciation?”

“You’re pretty good at it. That’s right.”

“The eldest son from the first wife is named Rusef, and the twins from the second wife are a daughter, Charlon, and a son, Aduer. Did I get the pronunciation right?”

“Perfect.”

“Then I’ll summarize it like this.”

Jedrick tilted his gaze slightly upward to the left and recited effortlessly.

“The Born region was originally imperial territory, but a family from the southern continent led an army, seized the land, and became the Vormont family. When the empire demanded its return, the Vormont family ceded the land to the king of Triton. In response, King Gallant of the time recognized the area as an independent duchy. That’s how the Vormont family and the Gallant family formed a lord-vassal contract.”

Jedrick’s tone didn’t sound rushed, as if he was trying to recite memorized lines quickly.

Though his pronunciation remained awkward, his explanation flowed without hesitation or stumbling over unfamiliar words.

“Since the empire was already weakened and preoccupied with conflicts against other external forces, they couldn’t intervene in Triton’s unilateral actions. Due to this relationship, the Vormont family and the Gallant family formed a bond through marriage. A princess sent as a bride offered a vast farmland in the northern Born region called Songtyon—or is the pronunciation right?”

“Sentyon.”

“...That Sentyon land became part of the Gallant family’s estate. However, the queen from Born died of illness without producing an heir, and when the king remarried, the Vormont family demanded the return of Sentyon. Here’s what I don’t get: why would they demand it back? A gift is a gift, isn’t it?”

“The main reason was that there was no child between them. From the perspective of the Duke Vormont, if their grandchild had become king, even if the daughter had died, they would have retained the right to Sentyon. But the new queen the Gallant king married had nothing to do with Born. The duke argued that Sentyon was a gift to ‘his daughter, who was also Triton’s queen,’ not a gift to the Triton royal family. Meanwhile, the king claimed it was a gift to the Gallant family.”

“You Southerners are known for having complicated contracts during weddings. Wasn’t there any documentation to prove their claims? Especially for a royal marriage?”

“You have a point, Jedrick. But back then, weddings weren’t as brutally formalized with contracts. They made oaths to the gods, but those were vague and open to interpretation.”

Jedrick nodded a few times and resumed summarizing.

“So, both sides insisted that Sentyon was theirs, and eventually, Born’s army attacked Sentyon and took it. Less than 20 years later, Triton’s army recaptured it. The disputes continued, but there was a brief period of reconciliation. It was during the time when the king’s nephew was the lord of Sentyon. Born proposed a political marriage, suggesting that any offspring would split the land—half for Born and half remaining with Triton. But something went wrong. The reason was… what again?”

“The bride from Born disappeared.”

“That’s such a nonsensical turn of events that it’s hard to wrap my head around. So, Born invaded again, but ten years ago, Triton’s army counterattacked. At first, Born’s forces, both superior in quality and numbers, seemed to have the upper hand, but the tide turned when Triton’s army was led by the War God, Terdin.”

“Did I ever call General Terdin a War God?”

Damion asked.

Jedrick ignored him and continued,

“Terdin crushed the Born forces defending Sentyon and advanced all the way to the capital, Ramborn. However, Terdin had no intention of seizing the capital. That would have provoked Born’s army into a desperate resistance, forcing Terdin’s exhausted troops into a potentially years-long siege. Instead, he ended the war by securing a simple surrender term: taking one of their children as a hostage. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“But instead of offering the youngest, Aduer, they sent the eldest, Rusef. While the eldest was ideal for negotiations, it was an unsettling arrangement. So far, am I missing anything?”

“Not at all. And I never explained it chronologically like you just did. How did you piece that together? Especially while drunk...”

Damion looked at him with awe that bordered on reverence.

He pondered for a moment, then marveled again.

“How on earth did you manage that?”

Ram was equally curious.

Damion’s southern dialect was tiresome and incomprehensible, but Jedrick’s explanation had actually helped him understand Born’s history.

“How did you do it, exactly?”

“Well…”

Jedrick tilted his head.

“Explain it to me. If I could speak like you, I’d get some compliments wherever I go.”

Damion’s eyes sparkled as he pleaded.

Jedrick thought for a moment before drawing a square with his hands.

“If you have a square here, and another square next to it, you put the earlier parts of the story in the first square and the later parts in the second. Then, once the story is complete, you link the squares together.”

Jedrick finished his explanation by spreading his hands.

“Simple, right?”

Damion frowned.

“What nonsense is that?”

Ram thought the same.

“How did you memorize such a long story in the first place?”

Damion asked.

“You break the square into smaller pieces.”

Jedrick gestured as though slicing the air with his hand.

“Stop with the square talk already.”

Damion snapped.

Ram couldn’t agree more.

[Translator - Jjescus]

[Proofreader - Gun]

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