My Ex-Girlfriend Was Appointed as a Knight Commander

Chapter 183

"...Alright, I’ve heard enough of your updates."

Maxime swallowed dryly, his throat bobbing with the effort. It was early afternoon, and sunlight streamed through the wooden cabin's windows, casting lush shadows from the forest outside.

"In summary, you beat that bastard to death quite thoroughly, and now you've become the kingdom's most notorious philanderer and certified bastard. Is that it?"

"How can that possibly be the conclusion you draw from everything I just told you, Master?" Maxime's temple twitched as he clenched his jaw.

Across from him, Nayra sat with her legs crossed, gazing at her sole disciple with a dissatisfied expression. Her nearly silver hair, shimmering like sunlight, lazily draped down her arms as though burdened by her disinterest.

"Did I say anything untrue? No matter how you argue, the fact remains: you’re an irredeemable bastard. A scoundrel so vile, even ripping you to shreds wouldn’t suffice."

"If anyone deserves that title, it’s the villain I beat to death, wouldn’t you say?"

"Silence. If your master says it, then it’s the truth. You’ve always been far too talkative for your own good, you know that?"

Nayra slammed her palm onto the wooden table with a resounding thud. The sound reverberated like cannon fire in Maxime's ears. He swallowed again, shrinking slightly under her piercing gaze. Nayra studied her disciple’s cowering expression before letting out a hearty laugh and waving her hand dismissively.

"Enough. As long as you’re alive and well, that’s all that matters. When is the coronation for that princess you helped put on the throne?"

Maxime exhaled a breath of relief.

"It's scheduled for mid-March."

"Spring is a good time for such events. When news spreads of a queen ascending the throne, foreign diplomats will flock here in droves. Will the kingdom be able to handle that?"

"Unless someone worse than Leon Benning comes along, we’ll manage just fine. There’s no need for concern."

Nayra scoffed at the notion of "concern." The idea of a fae worrying about a human kingdom amused her.

"Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m only worried about you, not the fate of this kingdom."

"That’s... touching," Maxime replied dryly, a faint hint of sarcasm in his tone.

He immediately regretted his words when he caught Nayra’s sharp glare. Nayra never sugarcoated her words when it came to relationships—human or otherwise—and Maxime, of all people, knew this best. Their dynamic allowed for such rare moments of levity, but the underlying understanding was always present. After a brief moment of silence, Nayra folded her arms and leaned back in her chair.

"You’re still endearing in your own annoying way. At least you’re not as insufferable as before."

Her remark earned a furrowed brow from Maxime. Nayra chuckled softly at his reaction but soon let out a short sigh.

"How’s your swordsmanship? Improved at all?"

"It would feel a bit vain to answer that myself, Master."@@@@

Nayra's lips curled into a sly smile, a sight that made Maxime instinctively uneasy. Her smiles rarely signaled anything good for him—they were usually preludes to her plans.

"If you won’t say it, then I suppose I’ll just have to see for myself."

As if hearing her words echo in his mind, Maxime knew exactly where this was heading.

"Outside."

With that single word, Nayra rose from her seat and strode toward the door. Maxime stared after her blankly for a moment before shaking his head and standing. When his master ordered something, there was no use resisting. Still, despite his reluctance, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered the prospect of testing his sword once more.

Outside, Nayra stood leaning casually on a wooden practice sword, her attire unchanged. The weapon swayed gently back and forth, supporting her like a rocking chair. There wasn’t a hint of discomfort in her posture—it was as though the blade’s hilt had been cushioned with silk.

That’s... beyond becoming one with the sword, isn’t it?

"What’s taking you so long? You’re slower than a snail," Nayra called out, a smirk playing on her lips.

"I needed a moment to mentally prepare."

"Since when have you ever done that?"

Her faint chuckle was followed by a nod toward the ground nearby. Maxime turned his head and saw another wooden practice sword stuck in the dirt.

"Have you considered moving to the capital?"

Nayra's expression twisted into a scowl.

"Did you eat something strange?"

"I'm serious, Master."

"What for? Need another mistress? Thanks, but no thanks. If you’re interested, I could introduce you to some other lovely elves. Of course, you’d have to move to the forest to meet them."

"I’m saying this because I’m worried you’ll disappear again."

Maxime’s voice carried a hint of unease. Nayra chuckled, shaking her head.

"Disappear, I will. It’s about time I returned to the forest anyway. Besides, most of the danger seems to have passed."

"What danger, exactly?"

"The Behemoth. If humans—or rather, the kingdom—had failed to stop it, we were prepared to intervene. Fortunately, they managed, which gave me the freedom to check on you instead."

When Maxime didn’t respond, Nayra shrugged lightly.

"You don’t need me anymore. If people find out about our connection, it won’t do you any favors. And I’d rather avoid the headache of living among humans."

"There are ways to keep you hidden," Maxime insisted.

"I’ve got other things to worry about, so don’t concern yourself. It’s not as though I’ve been staying here because I have nothing better to do."

Realizing further persuasion was futile, Maxime relented. He understood better than anyone that his suggestion was unreasonable, yet he couldn’t help but wish for a world where he could visit his master whenever he wanted.

"Will you still leave the forest occasionally?"

"I don’t enjoy being cooped up at home. I’ll go out from time to time. I might even drop by your house unexpectedly."

The conversation ended there. Maxime accepted her decision, while Nayra, despite rejecting his offer, didn’t seem entirely displeased. A soft smile graced her lips.

The wind picked up, carrying with it the faint warmth of approaching spring.

"Feels like the weather’s easing up. Spring isn’t far off," Nayra remarked, turning toward the breeze.

"It does feel that way, Master," Maxime replied with a nod.

"Keep yourself busy, Maxime. Slack on your training, and I’ll make sure you regret it."

"I won’t forget."

"And... be happy."

Maxime couldn’t bring himself to answer aloud. Instead, he nodded a couple of times, letting his actions speak for him. Nayra chuckled softly, ruffling his hair a bit before stepping back.

"Take care."

"Until next time."

The wind grew stronger, swirling around them. When Maxime blinked, Nayra was gone, leaving only the marks of their sparring behind. He stared at the empty space for a moment before turning toward the cabin she had occupied.

"What’s she going to do with all the stuff she left behind?"

As he approached the cabin’s door, his eyes fell on a piece of paper pinned to the wood with a dagger. Pulling it free, he read the note.

"Take care of whatever’s left."

That’s all she left? Maxime glanced between the note, the cabin, and the space where Nayra had vanished. Then, he broke into a laugh. Her halfhearted farewell was also a promise to return.

Folding the note, Maxime tucked it into his pocket. The air he breathed didn’t feel as cold anymore. Just as Nayra said, spring was indeed on its way.