Gro observed their reactions, but neither Dorias, nor Prinshitt and Ileil paid any attention to him who had come to mediate; he quite felt like an outsider.
Dorias didn’t respond to Gro’s words. He walked to Prinshitt’s side, gently pressing her shoulder:
“Your Highness, you should go bathe and change. After breakfast, we have important matters to discuss.”
After Dorias said this, several attendants immediately surrounded her. Prinshitt opened her mouth as if wanting to say something, but under Dorias’s stern gaze, she ultimately held back. Only after glancing meaningfully at Ileil did she turn and leave with the attendants.
Only when the princess’s figure disappeared at the corridor’s end did Dorias turn to Ileil. His gaze paused a moment on the girl’s modified dress and thigh garters, brows slightly furrowed.
“Your swordsmanship is very unique, Miss Ileil.” The saint chose his words carefully. “It doesn’t resemble regular army moves, nor thieves’ guild styles.”
Ileil calmly met his gaze: “Self-taught wild techniques just to survive on the battlefield.”
“Wild techniques?” Dorias glanced sideways at Gro, his tone gaining a bit of sharpness: “Your adoptive father is the infamous ‘Black Edge’—and he’d actually throw you on the battlefield, even without teaching you anything? That truly surprises me.”
After hearing Dorias’s words, Gro couldn’t hold back. Clearly, he had taught Ileil plenty. Whether basic swordsmanship or reading and writing, Gro had taught Ileil intermittently.
Though he did it under the guise of training Ileil into a “useful tool,” no matter what, you can’t say he didn’t teach.
He couldn’t let this old thing Dorias continue chatting with Ileil.
“You’re misunderstanding, Your Excellency. Ileil this child has been humble and diligent since young.” Gro stepped forward, positioning between them to shift the topic:
“Regarding this morning’s spar, I apologize again. This child’s personality is a bit stubborn, but she meant no offense.”
Dorias waved his hand: “Young people being competitive is normal. Perhaps Miss Ileil sparring without holding back with Her Highness can motivate her growth.” His gaze bypassed Gro, landing on Ileil again:
“However, Miss Ileil, I suggest you change into proper clothes. After breakfast, we have important matters to discuss with the mercenary group.”
Ileil looked down at her utterly transformed dress, her mouth twitching:
“…Understood.”
“If this attire was intentionally arranged by Mr. Gro, I have no right to interfere.”
Dorias tilted his head. After some thought, he directed his words at the utterly wicked Gro.
“Your Excellency, you seem to misunderstand something…”
Faced with Dorias’s statement, he wanted to explain tearfully: “Those clothes were originally in the room! I just placed Ileil in that room…”
Ileil, following Gro’s defense, seemed to try clarifying something for him:
“He’s right, Your Excellency.” Ileil expressionlessly adjusted her skirt hem; the short swords on her thigh garters swayed lightly. “My adoptive father, that is, Mr. Gro, has always given me full freedom.” Ileil’s fingers hooked the garter edge and pulled it up slightly; silver hair fell, covering her impassive expression.
“As one of the few women in the mercenary group, whenever we change bases, he specially takes care of me.” Ileil’s fingers hooked the garter edge and adjusted upward; silver hair fell, covering her impassive expression.
“To not hinder normal activities, he specially prepares some… special styles of women’s clothing.”
God. What did Ileil mean by emphasizing her female identity?
Gro nearly fainted, but thinking carefully—given her transformation from male to witch, focusing on these seemed normal.
…
“Special styles?” Dorias frowned, repeating. Obviously, what the saint thought and what Ileil described weren’t the same. The gaze he cast at Gro gradually sharpened, as if looking at some scum pervert.
Now it was truly getting darker the more explained… Gro wearily looked at Ileil—her matter-of-fact bewildered expression was deadlier than the most exquisite acting.
Ileil was stating facts. For Ileil to execute tasks smoothly, Gro did have people customize convenient outfits for her. Ileil bringing this up was perhaps just to round out her setting as Gro’s adopted daughter.
“…Sigh.”
Gro simply gave up. Anyway, in Dorias’s mind, he was a pure-blooded villain; a worse impression seemed irrelevant.
After staring at Gro for a good while, Dorias finally spoke initiatively: “I’ll take my leave first, you two.”
With that, he emphasized: “Don’t forget the upcoming arrangements.”
After dropping this, Dorias left.
Gro stared at Dorias’s receding back; only when the saint’s figure vanished at the path’s end did Gro exhale long. He tugged at his too-tight collar, slapping his forehead:
“Kid, do you know you almost caused a huge mess just now?”
“I had measure.” Ileil said slowly. “Only by doing this could I prove my identity to the princess.”
Gro was amused to anger by Ileil’s words: “You call that measure? You had the short sword at the princess’s neck!”
“……”
Ileil was silent. Gro looked at the slightly puzzled Ileil; he felt teaching her more now was futile.
“When you see that princess and saint next time—no matter what they say, don’t say anything extra; leave the responses to me, okay?”
“Understood.” Ileil unusually nodded obediently.
“So now… follow me. Hurry and change that deadly skirt of yours into something proper.”
Gro gave one last look at Ileil’s bizarre outfit, sighing long.