Léa continued speaking in a shrivelled voice.
"Do all members of the royal family possess the gift of healing?"
"No. It is only permitted to officially crowned kings. It is said that if you receive an anointment from the Archbishop of Reims during the coronation ceremony, you will receive the gift of healing scrofula."
A long answer finally came from him, who had only been giving short answers, but the atmosphere did not improve much.
"I heard that His Majesty often wanders through the city of Paris. Have you ever met him?"
"Yes."
"Is he really that handsome? Even more than Sir Baltha?"
"What? He cannot be compared to an ordinary person like me."
He shakes his head with an appalled expression.
Léa's jaw dropped. Ordinary? This beautiful fairy-like face in front of her is ordinary?
Oh, God. How did Paris get so blessed that it is crowded with such handsome men?
'Aah, I must visit Paris at least once before I die.'
With sparkling eyes, Léa continued the conversation in a voice filled with enthusiasm.
"Actually, my dad also used to live in Paris when he was young. He said that his siblings and relatives are still there."
And, she also revealed a little bit about her family's secret(?). Baltha asked, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head.
"How did your father...?"
...End up in Acre? Léa guessed that's what he meant. That would mean how did he end up leaving his hometown, or to speak plainly, what accident did he cause in order to get kicked out. Unless you're a crusader or a pilgrim, it's not easy to travel this far away.
Léa replied with a smile.
"He went on the Eighth Crusade of His Majesty the King Louis, and settled here."
"Ah, I see. So that's what happened."
His short answer was full of respect. If he knew the truth, his feelings would change right away.
Her father told her that he was an Ashkenazi Jew, and that there was an Ashkenazi village on the outskirts of Paris. However, she didn't say this much. It was because people treated Jews, Gypsies, and vagabonds as if they were an evil plague.
Fortunately, her father was successful in changing his identity, and no one in Acre except his family knew he was Jewish.
When her father was thirteen, he ran away from home shortly after his coming-of-age ceremony. He said that he was fed up with living in poverty, and that he would try to make a fortune somehow. He seemed to have chosen money over the lady he was madly in love with, but now, the truth was nothing but a mystery.
By chance, her father, who had been wandering the streets for a few months, became an assistant blacksmith during the Eighth Crusade led by His Majesty the King Louis, the grandfather of His Majesty Philippe, the current King of France.
It remains a mystery to this day as to what the hell a coward like her father was thinking when he did such a thing. To call it the power of love, no, the power of a broken heart, her father and mother, whom he met in Acre, are living too sweetly together.
Anyway, thanks to him scratching a lifetime worth of courage at that time, the side effect was that he didn't have a drop of courage left now. However, her father was quite lucky.
In Outremer, or in other words, in the East, there was always a shortage of workers due to constant battles with the Saracens. The owner of the precious metal workshop, who had taken him as an apprentice, was said to be a disciple of al-Jazari's - a mechanical engineer and one of the most talented craftsmen in Acre - disciple, but of course, there is no way to confirm it.
Later on, this person became her father's father-in-law, and the workshop was passed on to him. To put it simply, her deceased maternal grandfather took in a good-looking coward apprentice as his son-in-law.
Although her father missed Paris and the family he had left, he never contacted them, nor returned to his hometown. He will never be able to go back for the rest of his life. That's because he had to convert twice in order to survive.
Her mother knew that her father had converted from Judaism to Catholicism, but as far as Léa knows, he had also dipped his feet into Islam for several years when he was taken as prisoner along with His Majesty the King. Afterwards, he offered a tearful confession, ten candles, and a silver lingot to the church, and acted like it had never happened.
Looking at it, it seems that her father believes in Yahweh, the god taught by the rabbi, Allah, the god taught by the imam, and the Holy Trinity, the god taught by the priest. She had heard him muttering to himself, 'aren't they all the same person anyway?', but of course, he didn't say such things to other people as he is the god of cowards.
Anyway, while adhering to that kind of belief, he was 'living a nice, long life, eating well and making a lot of money' in his own way.
Not wanting to hear Baltha's respectful voice anymore, Léa decided to change the subject.
"Sir Baltha, after going back to Paris, are you going to become another lord's squire?"
"I am not sure. Before the Grand Master passed away, a message was sent to the Île de la Cité for my ordination ceremony, but the decision will be made by my guardian."
He speaks slowly with a placid expression. And then, the story ends again suddenly.
Ah, to think that it can be this hard to carry on a conversation. Even though there is a rule that prevents them from chatting with women, he is not a Templar, nor a knight yet.
Does he just hate talking to others? Is he in a bad mood?
She was reminded of the water droplets that had formed at the base of his helmet earlier, as well as the water stain at his feet. Léa seemed to be able to detect a few emotions behind his calm expression now.
And one of them was felt greatly and deeply.
Léa asked as carefully as possible.
"Hmm, Sir Baltha. What kind of person was the Grand Master?"
"Sir Guillaume was a true knight, with a valiant and noble character."
He answered without any hesitation, as if he had been waiting for this question.
"He was braver than anyone else, but he willingly put up with being insulted and called a coward as long as it could ensure the safety of the residents. That's why he offered a truce with Sultan Qalawun last year."
"Yes."
"He took care of me and treated me like his own son since I was little, and taught me countless lessons. He was like a father to me."
"...Yes."
"Serving him was the greatest honor of my life. I made a vow to join the Templars, and prayed to fight the heretics by his side for the rest of my life."
As if a blocked dam had burst, the stifled feelings poured out at once.
As she had presumed, there was a deep bond between Sir Baltha and the deceased Grand Master. It was obvious that his sadness was deep, and that he wanted to cherish his memory.
But for some reason, he did not offer flowers in front of his corpse, nor did he kiss the hem of his clothes, or his feet. He didn't join the crowd of fellow knights praising his exploits, and was only keeping an eye on her until the end. As if watching her was the most important thing in the world.
Why did he do that? He could have let someone else handle it for a while. Moreover, because of a girl with a broken leg who can't even walk properly.
He was a fairly inflexible person. A sigh came out spontaneously.
The words that flowed out for a long time had somehow turned into silence. Clippity-clop, tuk, tuk... His footsteps, which were leading the horse, slowed down little by little. He paused for a moment, then took a few more steps.
Clippity-clop, tuk, clippity-clop, tuk.
He stopped walking again. After hesitating for a while, he muttered as if talking to himself.
"However, the Grand Master left so suddenly... I couldn't even thank him."
His head lowers slowly.
"I don't know why. I had so many opportunities to do it."
"..."
"I killed so many people on the battlefield. Of course, both the Grand Master and I thought that we would die on the battlefield as well. I knew that we would part so suddenly, and yet..."
Léa stared blankly at his back as he stopped. He breathed out, and his shoulders trembled slightly. His silvery hair rippled. His appearance from behind was beautifully melancholic rather than sad.
Clippity-clop. The horse started moving again.
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