April 26th—a special day.
Gilles de Rais had been ordered by the Dauphin to head to the front lines, tasked with overseeing and supporting all of Jeanne's actions.
Naturally, he agreed without hesitation.
When he arrived in Blois, he found Jeanne already fully prepared for battle.
He wondered why she was so eager to attack but quickly went to meet her.
"The Dauphin's orders?"
After hearing Gilles' message, Jeanne tilted her head slightly, her confusion only making her look more endearing as she gazed at him with curious eyes.
Caught off guard by her innocent expression, Gilles suddenly felt awkwardly flustered and lowered his head.
"Yes. I've been appointed as your guardian, Lady Jeanne—tasked with watching over your every move."
Until now, he'd only been curious about what kind of person this Jeanne might be. Seeing her in person, he realized she was a thousand times more beautiful than he'd imagined.
"Very well, Gilles. Hurry and put on your armor. Prepare for battle."
"Yes… Ah?"
He nodded instinctively, then blinked in surprise.
"R-right now?"
"Yes. We don't have any time to waste."
Jeanne's tone left no room for argument. Gilles wasn't in a position to object anyway, so after a brief pause, he nodded again.
In that moment, he felt as though he'd come to understand Jeanne a little, even though this was their first meeting.
The Dauphin had said she was sent here to raise morale—and now Gilles understood why. Just standing beside her made him feel strangely calm.
Someone like her was exactly what the soldiers needed right now.
Clearly, the Dauphin's decision had been right.
Still, Gilles hoped nothing would happen to this girl on the battlefield. If she were to fall, their morale would crumble just as quickly as it had risen.
Perhaps that was why the Dauphin had sent him personally.
Quickly suiting up, Gilles de Rais joined the troops as they set out.
Watching Jeanne at the front, he felt as if he were following a sacred, untouchable figure.
...
Elsewhere, Laurent sat astride his horse, his gear strikingly different from those around him—his imposing figure like that of a general leading thousands into battle.
In truth, he practically was.
Lately, he had thrown himself wholeheartedly into aiding the English against the French—as long as Jeanne wasn't on the battlefield.
With his many military achievements, obtaining frontline intelligence had become trivial.
He'd been granted vast lands by the duke, along with wealth and honor beyond measure.
Yet, in recent days, Laurent had once again been reminded of the brutal realities of noble hierarchy.
By now, he had earned the duke's complete trust—though Laurent himself cared little for that.
But standing beside the duke, he'd witnessed some unsettling things.
The divide between nobles and commoners was horrifyingly wide. If a noble wished you dead, a single word could seal your fate—no resistance possible.
And that was just the norm. Those of higher rank could order their inferiors to die without question.
Laurent had seen several such incidents firsthand.
In one execution, a noble criminal couldn't be killed by a commoner—it would have been beneath his dignity. Laurent had to perform the execution himself.
That kind of reality often left him sighing in quiet frustration.
Such a world can't last forever. A system like this is bound to collapse eventually.
Then again, being a noble came with its perks—wealth, luxury, women. More than once, he'd been tempted by proposals to court various aristocratic daughters, but he'd turned them all down without hesitation.
He had a goal in coming here—and marriage wasn't part of it.
Besides, the ring on his finger already had an owner. No one could replace her.
"Évigi, what's on your mind?"
The voice beside him snapped him from his thoughts. He turned to see Sir John Fastolf grinning broadly.
"My dear earl seems in a far better mood than me today."
"Ha, of course!" Sir John admitted cheerfully.
"Once our supplies reach the front, those Frenchmen will scatter like rats. They'll finally see our strength. Besides, with you here, Évigi, nothing can possibly go wrong! Hahaha!"
The man's laughter grated in Laurent's ears.
Relax, Laurent thought silently. If I meet Jeanne on this battlefield, your victory is impossible.
Though he felt a twinge of apology, there was no guilt in it.
"Rest assured. I'll make sure nothing unexpected happens."
Laurent flashed a bright, practiced smile.
"So, Évigi, were you thinking about the coming battles just now?"
"More or less. Mostly about what comes after."
"As expected of Évigi! Knowing you're with us puts me at ease."
"Mm."
"By the way, you've gotten quite close to His Grace lately."
"He keeps awarding me medals after every battle. Naturally, we've seen more of each other."
"That's not exactly what I meant." Sir John's grin turned sly. "The duke's daughter has nearly reached marriageable age. What do you think?"
"What do I think?"
Laurent knew perfectly well but played dumb.
"Your rise in status, of course!" Sir John went on, leaning closer. "The duke's daughter is famous for her beauty—you wouldn't lose out marrying her. More importantly, your rank would immediately rise to match the duke's. A perfect opportunity, wouldn't you say?"
He laid out the advantages with deliberate emphasis.
"Haven't you noticed the duke's attitude toward you changing? Ordinary knights never receive this kind of personal favor—they get empty titles and are sent to die. But you're different. The duke deliberately held off on raising your rank so you could marry into his family."
Laurent chuckled quietly.
"Is that so? Unfortunately, I'm not interested."
"No, no, no." Sir John wagged a finger. "My dear Laurent, you really don't understand. If my suspicions are right, once His Grace orders it, you won't have a choice. I'm only telling you this so you can prepare yourself."
"And if I refuse?"
"My dear Laurent, surely you know what happens when you defy someone of higher rank? Take my advice and be ready. A duke's title—men dream their whole lives for that. And besides, I'll benefit from recommending you."
Laurent said nothing this time.
But inwardly, his thoughts were far sharper.
That duke was certainly no good man.