WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS
Translator: Abood
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Friedrich's Battlefield
Fourth Arc, As Queen, as the New Protector of This Nation
Chapter 100: A Brief Moment of…
Winter is the messenger of peace.
On the Ludna Continent, this proverb had been spoken since ancient times.
No matter the war, none could carry on beyond the season of winter. The cold stole away strength and spirit, the dryness brought sickness, and the snow which could fall without warning would suddenly halt one’s march, at times even bringing death.
No matter how elite the army, in the face of winter it could never fight at full strength. No matter how powerful the ruler of a great nation, none could turn away the messenger of peace sent by the one true God.
Any who tried to defy the winter bestowed by God and continue their wars would pay for such folly with defeat or death.
That was why, even in the tumultuous year of Continental Unity Calendar 1009, a year when many storms had swept through the Kingdom of Edelstein, winter remained a time of peace.
Neither the allied Rigald Empire nor the Kingdom of Novakia, nor even their enemy the Kingdom of Arelia, made any move. And so, the soldiers of the kingdom could pass the season in calmer spirits than usual.
Friedrich Hosenfeld, a knight of the royal army, was also spending tranquil days in the Hosenfeld estate in the royal capital, Sankt Waltrude.
"—Now that I think of it, it was also in winter that Rudolf was born, and that Annemarie passed away. It was Annemarie who chose the name Rudolf. She had said that if we ever had a son, that’s what she wanted to name him."
It was a snowy afternoon. In the sitting room of the estate, Matthias, Friedrich’s foster father, spoke while holding a cup of tea.
"Was it perhaps from that storybook?"
"Yes. Apparently she took it from the main character of that book."
When Friedrich, recalling a well-known story in the western continent about a knightly protagonist who performed heroic deeds, posed his question, Matthias nodded.
"That book was one of Annemarie’s favorites. Naming her son after a character from a beloved storybook might be an unusual choice, but… it was very much like her."
Matthias gave a faint, bittersweet smile, to which Friedrich responded with one of his own before lifting his cup and taking a sip of tea.
The flames in the fireplace flickered, filling the room with a pleasant warmth.
"She might not have been as much of a reader as you, but she was still quite fond of books."
"I see. I wish I could have spoken with her, even just once, about the works we both enjoyed."
"I’m sure the two of you would have gotten along well, you could have opened up to each other like true family."
Listening to Matthias’s words, Friedrich turned his gaze toward the wall of the sitting room.
Hanging there were portraits of the late Countess Annemarie and of Matthias’s own son, Rudolf, who had fallen in battle.
Among nobles and other wealthy families, it was common to preserve one’s likeness in a portrait. Matthias had portraits from both his youth and his present years. Friedrich’s own had been painted shortly after he was adopted, when a painter was invited to the estate for the task.
Displaying the portrait of someone still living was considered bad luck. In private spaces such as a sitting room, it was customary to place portraits only of close family members with whom one had personally shared time.
Thus, at the far end of the sitting room hung the portrait of Matthias’s father, the previous head of the house. On the side wall were the portraits of Annemarie and Rudolf.
By age, both had been not so different from Friedrich as he was now. His foster mother, eternally young, smiling softly, and his foster brother, standing with a dignified bearing. Looking at the two of them, Friedrich committed to memory Matthias’s stories about their lives.
He had become Matthias’s adopted son and been given the name Hosenfeld to receive his full protection, to make the most of his own abilities, to succeed the living hero of Edelstein, and thereby to fulfill his desire to become someone of worth.
Yet now his position, his adoptive bond with Matthias, was no longer something based solely on practical gain.
Matthias had begun more often to share memories of Annemarie and Rudolf with him, as though entrusting Friedrich with proof that the two had lived as members of House Hosenfeld.
Friedrich believed he understood what that meant in his own way.
An orphan who did not even know his own origins, he was, in this way, becoming Friedrich Hosenfeld. That was how he saw it.
By the open doorway that led from the dining room into the sitting room, Yurika stood watching Matthias and Friedrich converse.
The warmth from the fireplace-heated air of the sitting room drifted into the dining room, and with the kitchen’s warmth from the preparations for supper, the dining room was hardly cold at all.
“Yurika dear. Don’t you want to go sit beside the young master?”
The voice came as she stood watching the man she loved speaking with his foster father. It was Doris, the elderly woman who served as the steward of House Hosenfeld. With her usual gentle smile, she stood beside Yurika, directing her gaze toward her master and his heir.
“…No, it’s fine. This is their time right now.”
Yurika’s eyes lingered on Friedrich’s profile as she spoke, her smile filled with quiet affection.
・・・・・・
The new year came, and in February of Continental Unity Calendar 1010, knights and soldiers of the Ferdinand Regiment gathered at the Kingdom of Edelstein’s army headquarters in the royal capital.
The occasion was a knighting ceremony conducted by the regiment’s commander, Matthias. In this ritual, squires of the regiment and veteran soldiers who had acquired the necessary skills and education were granted the title of knight.
Since the Kingdom of Arelia had entered into full-scale war with Edelstein two years prior, the Ferdinand Regiment had fought in multiple engagements, suffering its share of losses.
Its current numbers had fallen slightly below full strength, making replenishment an urgent matter. The shortage of knights who served both as officers and cavalry was particularly pressing and had to be addressed.
For that reason, it was essential not only to welcome newly trained knights into the regiment but also to actively promote capable, experienced soldiers into knighthood.
“Squire Gunther. Do you swear to pledge loyalty to the kingdom, uphold your honor, and thus serve as a knight?”
“I, Gunther, solemnly swear to pledge loyalty to the kingdom, uphold my honor, and thus serve as a knight, before the one true God.”
Among those standing in line to receive their knighthood was Gunther. Now, before Matthias, he knelt on one knee, bowed his head, and recited the traditional words of the ceremony.
“Very well. In recognition of your valor in battle, the many achievements you have earned, and the effort you have shown in acquiring the education befitting a knight, I, Matthias, Count of Hosenfeld, hereby name you a knight.”
Matthias spoke the words and lightly tapped Gunther’s shoulders with his sword.
The ceremony concluded without incident, and nearly ten new knights were created. With these additions, along with knights who would soon be joining the regiment, the Ferdinand Regiment’s knight corps would not only reach full strength, but even enjoy a slight surplus for wartime conditions.
“Congratulations, Gunther. You’ve worked hard for this.”
“…Thank you. It’s all thanks to you, Sir Oliver.”
The words came from Oliver, Gunther’s direct superior, who had trained him in the education, military knowledge, and etiquette required to become a knight. Gunther bowed his head sincerely as he expressed his gratitude.
“Well, now that I’ve left my family home and become a knight in my own right, our ranks are equal. You’re older than me, after all. You could speak to me more casually if you wanted.”
As he spoke, Oliver’s hand went almost unconsciously to the scar on his face.
Earlier this winter, during his return to the Falken Viscounty, Oliver had formally married his fiancée and brought his wife back with him to the capital.
With his marriage, he had become the head of an independent knightly household. While he might still use the Falken name as a mark of his lineage, under customary law he was no longer counted among the nobility’s seats. Even the Falken family crest had been removed from the mantle of his uniform.
If he rose to the rank of cavalry battalion commander, there was a strong chance the royal family would grant him a court noble title. But at least until then, Oliver would remain a commoner knight like the rest.
“No, I’m afraid I can’t do that. After all the training and guidance I’ve received from you, Sir Oliver, there’s no way I could speak to you so casually, especially when you’re the deputy battalion commander.”
Perhaps finding Oliver’s suggestion far too presumptuous, Gunther replied with a humbled tone.
“Hahaha, is that so? Then let’s keep things as they’ve been… Tonight we celebrate your knighting. I’m buying, and the whole squad will be there to give you a proper send-off, so be ready. Drink as much as you want.”
“Go easy on me, will you? If I stumble home completely drunk, my wife’s just going to scold me again.”
Gunther let out a wry chuckle, quietly savoring the change in his own life.
Once a rootless mercenary, he now had a wife and child, a home in the Kingdom of Edelstein, and a place serving the royal family and the crown as a knight.
Footnotes:
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