My Childhood Friend Told Me to Go Marry the Most Beautiful Woman in the Kingdom, So I Seriously Started Improving Myself—and Somehow Ended Up Making Women Fall Hard - Chapter 07: The Weight of Being a Knight Commander

Chapter 07: The Weight of Being a Knight Commander

Side: Adelheid von Graetz

I was a woman, raised as the sole heir of a marquis family that carried the blood of the marshal’s house.

I was Adelheid von Graetz, Commander of the Second Knight Order.

By title alone, everyone bowed their heads.

…But that was all it was.

Those bows were only on the surface.

Behind my back, I had heard it my whole life.

A woman, of all things. Just a decoration.
She’ll marry someday and disappear anyway.

That was why I trained my sword.

I had liked swinging a sword ever since I was young.

A knight who gets looked down on is finished.

“Guh! A woman… damn it…”

The man who had fallen before me was Snake Shadowblow, commander of the Third Knight Order.

He was strong.

But as someone for me to prove my strength against, he was just right.

♢

From a young age, the education in my household had been strict.

“Work as a marquis’s daughter should.”
“You are the marshal family’s child. Don’t complain.”
“Etiquette, manners, politics, social skills—you should be able to do all of it.”

If I failed, I was scolded.

Even if I succeeded, I was never praised.

Because it was “only natural,” they said.

No matter where I went, I was never met with warm looks.

If I held a sword, they laughed and called it “a woman’s pastime.”

If I studied magic, they sneered, “The marshal family’s daughter playing at being a mage?”

I just wanted to be useful.

I believed that being useful was my value.

So I worked hard.

And the more I worked, the more unnecessary things came along with it.

Every time I looked in the mirror, I sighed.

My red hair. My well-shaped face. My large chest.

None of that was something I chose.

And yet, the world treated it like my “sin.”

Men’s gazes rained down on me.

Not on my sword—but on my chest.
Not on my words—but on my body.

It was disgusting.

And when I glared back—

“A woman who’s too arrogant.”
“A pretty face acting all high and mighty.”

…No matter what I did, they always said something.

Again and again, changing shape, stabbing at me.

In the end, I was never seen as me—

Only as an enviable woman.

After I joined the Second Knight Order, it only got worse.

The stronger my sword became.
The more achievements I earned.

The more envy piled up.

“It’s just the marshal family’s connections.”
“A female commander? What a joke.”
“She’s just decoration for the royal castle anyway.”

Very few said it to my face.

Instead, the amount of troublesome work pushed onto me increased.

Not work I couldn’t do.

Work that should have ended once it was done—yet kept getting added.

No matter how much I finished, documents kept stacking up on my desk.

“The Second Knight Order Commander is smart, right?”
“She can handle it.”
“Just pass it to the Second Knight Order Commander.”

…Only the busywork kept growing.

It was hell. What if I refused?

“Women are so emotional.”
“So narrow-minded.”
“You can’t even handle something like this?”

What if I accepted?

“See? She’s convenient.”
“Women move if you tell them to.”
“Hah, isn’t it obvious she should do it?”

I was cornered.

So I learned to act in a way that wouldn’t get me looked down on.

Lower my voice. Sharpen my eyes. Don’t smile.

Don’t let them get close.

On the training grounds, I was always wrapped in killing intent.

If I didn’t do that, a woman would be crushed.

And before I realized it, I had stopped trusting people.

A gap had formed even between me and the members of the Second Knight Order.

Light distrust? No—it wasn’t something that cute.

I learned not to expect anything.

Because if you don’t expect anything, it doesn’t hurt when you’re betrayed.

♢

A new group of knight trainees had arrived.

They lined up. The usual ritual. The usual gazes.

Lewd looks. Admiring looks. Hostile looks.

None of them ever looked at who I was inside.

When I spoke, the air froze.

That was how I silenced everyone.

“If you don’t want to die, then train like you’re going to die.”

When I said that, the men’s eyes lit up.

…Idiots.

No matter what I said, it was always filtered through the same lens:

Words coming from a female commander.

It was nothing new.

Thinking that, I traced my eyes along the line.

Then—I saw one pair that was different.

He should have been just another trainee.

But his eyes weren’t those of someone looking at prey.

Nor were they the eyes of a man looking at a woman.

They were the eyes of a knight who had made up his mind.

The same resolve I had once admired in my grandfather—the resolve of someone ready to walk onto the battlefield.

Eyes not swallowed by fear.

That irritated me.

And at the same time, strangely, it calmed me.

I pointed at the man.

“You. State your name.”

“H-Hort! Hort Rubel!”

His voice almost cracked.

He was nervous.

But his eyes didn’t run away.

…Interesting.

I wanted to test him.

Was he really any different from the rest?

Would he end up staring at my chest?

Would he flatter me to curry favor?

Would he fear the marshal family and bow his head like the others?

“Hort. Step forward.”

A murmur rippled through the air.

As usual, I released killing intent and forced the surroundings into silence.

Then I approached him and leaned in to peer at his face.

This was where the men usually dropped their gaze—to my chest.

Then they looked back up, their eyes mixed with desire and contempt.

…But Hort was different.

His gaze almost fell, then he desperately held it back.

Held it back?

He kept looking into my eyes.

What a strange man.

And because of that, the words slipped out of my mouth.

“…You have good eyes.”

Up to the denial, everything went exactly as expected.

But from how he denied it, I understood.

He didn’t exaggerate himself.

He didn’t put on airs.

He didn’t flatter.

Maybe this one could actually be useful.

My thoughts went to the documents on my desk.

That hell.

My weakness—piled on me again and again.

What would happen if I showed that weakness to him?

Would he be disappointed and laugh?

Despise me and leave? Or try to take advantage of it?

Any outcome was fine.

I didn’t expect anything anymore.

And because I didn’t expect anything, I could test him.

He was just a trainee, after all.

“I’ll show you hell.”

“Hell!?”

His emotions were written all over his face.

Painfully honest.

I took Hort with me to my room.

The moment I opened the door, the words vanished from his face.

He froze at the sight of the mountains of paper.

…Of course he did. Anyone would freeze.

I calmly walked to my desk and sat atop the paper continent.

It was all for show.

If I didn’t act calm, I’d lose.

“This is hell.”

Yes—my hell.

Bound by the chains of the knight order.

“You will work here as my assistant.”

At that moment, Hort was looking at me.

Not my chest. Not my face. Not the papers.

Me.

For some reason, those eyes scared me.

I had decided not to trust anyone.

And yet, this one felt different.

Feeling different was dangerous.

It led to expectation.

And so, I asked him.

“Are you disappointed?”

Depending on his answer, I would end it here.

End it, and return to my usual solitude.

That was fine.

That was how I lived.

“I’m not disappointed.”

An instant reply.

Then came the next line—one that shattered my expectations.

“I thought you were a little cute.”

“C-Cute!? Cute, you say!?”

I was angry. I was embarrassed.

And yet—strangely enough, I didn’t hate it.

It wasn’t flattery. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t restraint.

It was just honesty.

In that moment, I realized something for the first time.

This man wasn’t treating me as “a woman.”

He wasn’t putting me on a pedestal as “the commander.”

He wasn’t fearing me as “the marshal family.”

Then what was he seeing?

…An annoying woman? A messy room? Someone clumsy, worthy of laughter?

None of those.

Hort…

He moved his hands. 

Little by little, the room grew cleaner.

Order appeared.

And the piles of documents—ones I thought would never end—began to stack neatly into place.

“Please decide this one, Commander.”

“Eh?”

He didn’t do everything himself—he made me work.

“Uuugh, Hort is a demon!”

He made me work.

He put a burden on me.

But thanks to Hort sorting and dividing the tasks, the work I’d never known how to handle before started finishing smoothly.

Once something was done, Hort carried it off to the proper departments and removed it from the room.

Then he came back and handed me the urgent ones.

“I’m tired.”

My request for him to become my exclusive aide was brushed off lightly.

At some point, I realized my tone toward Hort had become casual.

Maybe because I’d already shown him my most embarrassing side.

“…Commander. Would you like some tea?”

“I will!”

Honestly, even though I’d learned how to make tea as a noble lady, I was bad at it.

It always turned bitter and unpleasant.

But the tea Hort made was good.

Something deep inside the heart that had decided not to expect anything slowly melted.

A tiny, tiny flame lit up.

Annoying. Scary.

But… a little warm.

I gripped the cup tightly and thought.

This man appearing before me wasn’t just coincidence. He was the first person to step into my hell.

And more than anything—

With him here, work actually moved forward smoothly.