Shadow Oath

Chapter 27. Wine (2)

The guards protecting the chieftain’s tent let Demion in without any resistance.

It was a place even Count Badio and the king’s curious envoys couldn’t pass through.

Of course, Ram always had free access, but the prince didn’t have such privileges.

It seemed there had been specific instructions from Terrdin.

Jedric, who was reclining slightly while reading a book, sat up abruptly when Demion entered unannounced without a sound.

“I told you before, didn’t I? That I’d bring alcohol.”

Demion, without any further ado, sat down and handed a glass of liquor to Jedric.

He then extended another glass toward Ram.

“You drink too.”

“I must decline.”

Ram spoke firmly.

“When I say drink, you drink.”

“My duty is to protect both of you.”

“Stubborn fellow. So, the general was right.”

‘Yes, that’s true,’ Ram wanted to reply but stopped himself.

If he admitted to eavesdropping earlier, it would blow his cover. So, he remained silent.

“Fine. You’re not my subordinate, so I can’t order you to drink. But at least hold the glass with the liquor in it. There’s an old saying that if anyone drinks without a glass, uninvited spirits will appear.”

It was a saying he had never heard before. Did it vary by region?

“You’re not planning to invite spirits to me, are you?”

The prince extended the glass again.

“Then I’ll at least hold it.”

Ram received the glass with both hands, allowing the prince to pour a little liquor into it.

Jedric didn’t particularly decline either.

Living a boring life as a prisoner, he probably needed a distraction, and liquor seemed a decent solace.

Though still young, perhaps Gerenins were accustomed to drinking even at a younger age.

Jedric sipped cautiously at first, not out of suspicion of poison, but with an expression that questioned if this would even taste good.

Then, finding it agreeable, he began to drink in gulps.

“Wine isn’t something you drink like that.”

Demion pointed out.

“I’ve never heard of a specific way to drink liquor.”

Jedric ignored him and picked up the bottle, pouring more into his glass.

Demion commented again.

“You’re not supposed to pour wine like that either.”

“Does the way you pour change the taste?”

“…That, I’m not sure about.”

“Then how do you pour it?”

“Carefully. Like handling a delicate woman—with a gentle touch.”

“We Northerners don’t handle women delicately.”

“…Then how do you treat them?”

“The same as men. What’s the difference?”

“Women are weaker than men, so you have to be careful!”

“Don’t ever say that to a Gerenin woman. It’s the last thing they want to hear.”

“So, do women even go to war?”

“Among eighty men, there are twenty women. Some women are weak, just as some men are.”

Jedric poured another generous amount and drank it down in gulps.

Demion stared at his own wine glass for a long while, then followed Jedric’s example, pouring heavily and drinking in large gulps.

He murmured in a barely audible voice, “This wine is really expensive. Is this okay…?”

Ram, though he didn’t drink, could tell from the aroma alone that this was excellent wine.

In the cellar beneath Selkon’s castle, there was a cave storage where the temperature remained constant year-round.

Half of it was filled with wine.

Ram had occasionally accompanied the head steward to fetch wine from there.

The steward would meticulously choose only the wines listed in the inventory.

The wine brought out from the cave was never served to guests.

There was a separate storeroom for guest wine, where any servant could grab a bottle at random.

But the wine from the cave was exclusively for the baron.

The baron would smell it, taste it with his tongue, and gently swirl the glass as if too vigorous a motion might break the wine inside.

While drinking, not even a gulping sound was heard.

Now, however, the sound of gulps came repeatedly from the throats of the two.

Originally, Demion didn’t intend to drink so recklessly, but Jedric had provoked him, saying, “Your liquor is so weak it’s only good for warming yourself in the morning.”

Feeling competitive, Demion matched his pace.

But judging by Jedric’s reddening face, it didn’t seem he had a high tolerance either.

The wine ran out quickly.

The two lamented that there was no more to drink but didn’t ask for more to be brought.

Ram thought it was fortunate there was only one bottle from the start.

Drunk, Demion began rambling on about the history of Triton and the invasion wars of the Born Duchy, topics far from interesting.

Jedric didn’t seem particularly entertained either, but at least he didn’t yawn while listening.

Jedric enjoyed listening to stories in general.

He often asked Ram to tell him stories under the pretense of learning the language, but Ram’s lack of storytelling skills limited him to fragmented tales.

Perhaps because of this, Jedric, though feigning dislike for Demion, didn’t interrupt his speech.

“And that’s how the Bormont Duke’s daughter came to visit this time.”

Demion gave Jedric a look, as if expecting a response.

Jedric fell silent, lost in thought for a while.

Demion, feeling slightly guilty, asked cautiously, “Was that difficult for you to understand?”

Though the tone had an air of condescension, Jedric replied without any trace of anger.

“No, I was just organizing my thoughts.”

“Well, there were a lot of technical terms, and I doubt you’d be interested in our history…”

“It’s not the terms but the pronunciation that’s unfamiliar. Is the Bormont language different from Triton’s?”

Jedric asked.

Demion began explaining kindly.

“Both regions use the southern common tongue, but there are slight differences in pronunciation and vocabulary.”

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

“Yes.”

“Their name is Rancis Bormont? Is the pronunciation right?”

“You’re pretty good. That’s correct.”

“The eldest son from the first wife is named Ruseph. The twins from the second wife are Charlon, the daughter, and Aduer, the son. Is my pronunciation correct?”

“Perfect.”

“Then, I can summarize it like this.”

Jedric turned his gaze slightly to the upper left as he began to recite.

“The Born region originally belonged to the Empire. However, a family from the southern continent led an army and seized the land. That was the Bormont family. When the Empire demanded the land be returned, the Bormont family offered the territory to the King of Triton. At that time, King Gallant recognized it as an independent duchy. Thus, the Bormont family and the Gallant family established a contract as lord and vassal.”

He showed no sign of rushing, despite seemingly reciting something he had memorized.

Although his pronunciation remained awkward, Jedric’s explanation flowed seamlessly without any hesitation or signs of confusion about vocabulary.

“At the time, the Empire, weakened and preoccupied with other external conflicts, had no choice but to tolerate Triton’s unilateral actions. Due to this relationship, the Bormont and Gallant families solidified their bond through marriage. A princess from Bormont brought as her dowry a vast farmland in the northern Born region called Songtuyon… is my pronunciation correct?”

“Sentuyon.”

“…That Sentuyon land became a part of the Gallant family’s domain. However, the queen from Born, unable to bear children, passed away from illness. When the king remarried, taking a new queen unrelated to Born, the Bormont family demanded the return of Sentuyon. Here’s where I get confused—why should it be returned? Wasn’t it a gift?”

“The main reason was the absence of children between the two. From the perspective of the Duke of Bormont at the time, if his grandson had become king, he would have believed he had the right to rule Sentuyon, even if his daughter passed away. However, the new queen had no connection to Born. The duke argued that Sentuyon was a dowry given to ‘his daughter, the Queen of Triton,’ and not a gift to the Triton royal family. The king, on the other hand, claimed it was a gift to the Gallant family.”

“I heard you southern people draft complicated vows when you marry. Didn’t you have any documentation to prove your claims? Especially for a royal marriage?”

“You’re right, Jedric. But back then, marriage wasn’t so cold as to be treated like a contract. They made sacred oaths to their gods, but those promises were often ambiguous.”

Jedric nodded a few times before resuming his summary.

“Both sides claimed Sentuyon as their own, which eventually led to Born’s army attacking and occupying the land. Less than twenty years later, Triton’s army recaptured it. The conflict persisted until a brief reconciliation occurred. At the time, the king’s nephew governed Sentuyon, and Born proposed a political marriage. They agreed that if the couple had children, one half of the land would belong to Born, and the other half would remain with Triton. But something went wrong. The reason was… what again?”

“The woman from Born, who was supposed to marry, went missing.”

“Such an illogical situation makes it hard to follow. Born invaded again, taking the land. Then, ten years ago, Triton’s army retaliated. Initially, Born’s forces, being both superior in quality and quantity, seemed to prevail. However, the tide turned when General Terrdin, the ‘god of war,’ began leading Triton’s forces.”

“Did I ever call General Terrdin the god of war?”

Demion asked.

Jedric ignored him and continued.

“Terrdin crushed Born’s forces defending Sentuyon and advanced straight to the capital, Ramborn. However, Terrdin had no intention of seizing the capital. Doing so would provoke fierce resistance from Born’s army, forcing him into a prolonged siege with his weary troops. Instead, he ended the war by negotiating simple terms of surrender—demanding one of the duke’s children as a hostage. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“But instead of the youngest, Aduer, they sent the eldest son, Ruseph. While Ruseph was an ideal choice for negotiations, the decision left a sour impression. That’s as far as I explained, right? Was there anything I got wrong?”

“Nothing. In fact, I never explained it in chronological order like you did. How did you organize all that? You’re even drunk…”

Demion looked at him, his expression shifting from admiration to sheer amazement.

He thought for a moment, then asked again, still awestruck.

“How on earth did you do that?”

Ram was curious too.

Although Demion’s explanation had been difficult to follow, Jedric’s version provided a clear understanding of Born’s history.

“How I did it…”

Jedric tilted his head slightly.

“Explain it to me. If I could explain like you, I’d get praised wherever I went.”

Demion’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

Jedric thought briefly, then drew a square with both hands.

“If there’s a square here and another square there, when you speak, you put the earlier part of the story into this square, the later part into that square, and once the story is complete, you link them together.”

Jedric opened his hands after explaining.

“Simple, isn’t it?”

Demion frowned.

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

Ram thought the same.

“How can you even memorize such a long story?”

Demion asked.

“You divide the squares into smaller pieces.”

Jedric made slicing motions in the air as though cutting with a knife.

Demion snapped.

“Enough with the squares already.”

Ram couldn’t have agreed more.