The Perfect Knight and the Illusionist (BL)

MARIUS

"Come in, Marius."

I heard Falken’s voice inviting me in as I knocked on his door. It was eerily impressive how perceptive he was of small details.

Was it the length of the gaps between my knocks? The sound of my footsteps that he recognized as distinct?

For a man who didn’t wear armor or a military uniform, he had a perceptive sense to match any seasoned knight or hunter.

"Good afternoon, Sir," I greeted him as I walked in and closed the door behind me.

"Good work the other day at the festival, Marius. That was excellent," Falken said, triggering both a sense of pride and a pang of pain in my heart.

"Thank you, Sir."

"I assume you have something to report?" Falken asked.

"Yes, Sir. Something really extraordinary."

Falken, who was sitting behind his desk with papers sprawled across it as usual, got up, came around his desk, and invited me to sit on the couch with the tea table between us.

I sat as instructed.

"Any tea?"

"Thank you, Sir," I said, my throat feeling dry after rushing to his office.

He poured the tea into two porcelain cups. One for himself and one for me. He pushed mine across the table. I took it in my hands, and we took our first sips together.

"Sir, it’s about Blanche Belrive," I started.

Falken just listened to me casually. Quite a different reaction from the last time. He asked me in an almost disinterested voice,

"Anything happen? How is Leo getting on in the art club? Any troubles?"

"It’s not about that, Sir. I heard something about her childhood."

Falken’s finger, which was running along the rim of his teacup in a circular motion, stopped.

He then asked me,

"Where did you hear it from?"

"From a friend, Sir."

"Why did he tell you?"

"I... pressed him for it. I noticed he reacted somewhat strangely when he first heard the name Blanche, and when he saw her in person, he was very taken aback. I thought there must be something he knew that made him feel uncomfortable, Sir."

"Tell me your friend’s name."

I hesitated a little, but I knew I came here to tell Falken everything I heard, so I told him.

"Briant Rosenborg, Sir."

Falken looked up at the ceiling and rubbed his right thumb and index finger together. Then he stopped and murmured,

"Art circles. Got it."

I wasn’t sure whether he was saying this to me or just to himself. Either way, he continued,

"Now tell me what you’ve heard."

"Briant told me a little backstory about the Belrive family. It was quite shocking for me to hear. Sir, have you heard of the legend of Estella Belrive?"

"It’s an old rumor that has survived through generations, yes. An interesting story," Falken said with an unimpressed grin.

"Briant told me that... he met Blanche when he was six, so I’d imagine she would have been six or seven, and she could draw a perfect picture while blindfolded."

Falken froze as if the blood in his veins had stopped flowing and his heart had stopped beating. He completely turned into a rock for a very long time. I couldn’t even tell if he was still breathing. I kept silent, as I felt I shouldn’t interrupt him—whatever he was thinking in his head.

Then Falken stood up from his seat, slowly, and walked over to me.

I rose from my seat too, as a junior should when a superior is standing.

Falken then hugged me, generously, then tightly. I could feel the man’s heart thumping. It was only then I realized the man didn’t freeze for no reason—he was ecstatic, ecstatic to the point that his body was too overwhelmed to move.

"Marius, this... you won’t understand... but thank you."

I was really moved as well. There was such sincerity in his show of gratitude that I, too, was overwhelmed with emotion.

"It’s an... honor, Sir—to be of use."

Falken hugged me like that for another good ten seconds, then let go, took a step back, and told me,

"It goes without saying that you shall not tell this to anyone."

"Of course, Sir. And I do not think Briant would tell this story to anyone either."

"Make sure he doesn’t," Falken said.

"Yes, Sir."

I didn’t know how I was to ’make sure’ someone didn’t talk, but I decided I’d see what I could do.

Then I thought perhaps now I had earned my chance to ask him for an answer in return as well.

"Sir, may I ask something?"

"Ask me."

"I heard that... you rescued the art club from closing last year. Was there any particular reason, Sir?"

Falken stepped back, cracked a smile, and asked me,

"You don’t think I could do something just out of goodwill, Marius?"

"Oh, no, Sir! I didn’t mean it that way," I said, immediately realizing my phrasing was wrong.

"I just jest, Marius. I jest," Falken said, still smiling, and continued.

"I stopped the student council from disbanding the art club because I felt the reasons were not justifiable enough. The main reason they cited was the lack of members relative to the budget they were eating up due to the materials they purchased for their artwork. There was also, I believe, a small matter of a personal grudge from Mikael, the student council president—I believe you are in the council now too? I see, as I expected. Anyway, it was probably also because the art club rejected the student council’s request to produce works to be displayed for the Academy’s Autumn Festival. Putting all these things together led to that eviction notice."

That was a long story, but it all made perfect sense.

"I see now, Sir," I said.

Then Falken’s smile changed ever so slightly, with almost childish cheekiness twinkling in his eyes, and he asked me,

"And Marius—let me tell you. Some people are born to achieve great things, just as you are expected to, and fully capable of becoming a fantastic Royal Knight. That should be encouraged and supported, don’t you think?"

"I am already so grateful for all the support I have received in my life, Sir."

Falken gave me a nod and stated with chillingly strong conviction,

"And that girl—Blanche. She was born to draw. Nobody should stop that."

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!