In many ways, commoners on the frontier had it much easier than those who lived in other regions of southern humanity. Taxes were low to pull immigrants for the sake of increasing manpower reserves. Work was plentiful, an able body was all you needed to sign up for the reserve and those with talent had the chance to rise the ranks thanks to the highly meritocratic system of the frontier military.
One didn't even need to have a career in the military if you were merely looking to live a simple, honest life. The massive number of soldiers meant supplies and services would always be in high demand, even a simple farmer such as Patt could live with a roof over his head, have a full belly every night, and were even able to save up for luxuries like silk and fine wine.
But frontier life wasn't without disadvantages, the main one being caused by the same thing that enabled greater living standards in the first place: the military. With the number of men signing up to be soldiers there are bound to be some who had ambition for riches but didn't have the talent to achieve it through proper means. Such people would turn to banditry. They couldn't stick around for long with the garrison's presence across the entire region, but they could make off with a single grand heist after robbing a rich frontier village.
That's why the land of Sir Thomas was so idyllic, no bandit would be willing to attempt an attack on a farmstead that had a fully armored knight patrolling every day. Every tenant, including Patt, was truly grateful for his protection. They'd be willing to march to war should Sir Thomas ask them to do so.
All that's to say, Patt respected Sir Thomas with every fiber of his being. And that respect was being tested to its very limits at this moment.
"Preposterous! He shows up unannounced"
"why announce his arrival to a farmstead?"
"Lives on my land" "Didn't you agree to it?"
"And dares to charm my daughter and turn her against me!"
Patt could feel a headache forming, and it wasn't because of the afternoon sun. "I'd hardly call taking her to Alanfer 'turning her against you'. Didn't you have an argument with Evelin just a week ago about you being overprotective? She's travelling with a knight, and he's a Lyon to boot? Aren't you acquainted with their current head? You always sing his praises whenever Lord Aberlin gets brought up"
"Firstly, he isn't a knight, he's currently a mercenary! And just because he's a Lyon doesn't mean he is of the same ilk as Aberlin."
Patt could only sigh in utter exasperation, Thomas was smart, but he could be more stubborn than a mule whenever Evelin was involved. "You have to let go Thomas; Evelin is an adult now. She should at least be able to travel with one of the first friends she's made in years, as far as I can tell they seemed to be getting along swimmingly…" he didn't have the chance to finish.
"That's exactly the problem! Think about it, Patt. A handsome well-spoken noble who's likely had his fair share of women shows up and sweeps her off her feet. My poor girl will get smitten just to get thrown away after his fancy passes!"
"As innocent as she may be Evelin is a smart girl and a good judge of character. She'll be fine Thomas, you're overreacting. Besides, from what I saw you seemed to be getting along with Sir Harold like a house on fire, surely you would've been able to tell if he was someone willing take advantage of her." Thomas grumbles, unable to form a response to the bastion of logic that is Patt. He had to remind himself that the man was once a quartermaster, there's no winning against arguments against snakes like them.
"Even so, I just don't like it. There's something hidden in those blood red eyes Patt, something not quite human"
"Well now you're just making up excuses, and you have the exact same shade of eyes! Relax Thomas, it's just one trip to the city. What could possibly go wrong?"
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"GET BACK HERE!" Everything has gone wrong. Just five minutes since they've passed the city gates and he's already gotten pickpocketed. Well, 'pickpocketed' isn't quite the right word. It was closer to a snatch and run.
The thief must've thought that Harold would be unable to catch up to him with his armor on, but he would show him the mistake of underestimating a knight. Harold was rapidly reducing the distance between them, and he could tell that the thief was getting desperate.
The thief made several sharp turns among merchant stalls in an attempt to shake him off, once even jumping over one. Harold on the other hand was like a steel bull with his armor on, he charged through stalls, threw people across the street as he struggled to make sharp turns and destroyed merchandise in his fury.
Eventually, the thief makes a mistake. He turns a corner into a dead end, and the raging knight has him cornered. The thief makes one last desperate attempt at escape, trying to run past Harold. In a single moment the thief is tackled to the ground… and Harold sees red.
Harold brings his fist down upon the thief's face. He felt something crack, he could hear the thief begging for mercy beneath him. He brings his fist down once more. Everything becomes a haze of anger. He thought he could hear someone begging him to stop behind him. He ignores them and brings his first down once again. More yelling, irrelevant.
Just as he raises his arm in preparation for a fourth strike, someone else places themself between him and his target.
"Please sir knight, you have your purse back, surely you could spare this poor man's life. Just hand him over to the guards. P-Please, I beg of you." Harold could see fear in the woman's eyes and that she was shaking from terror. The thief lies on the ground, sobbing like a child. His broken face could barely be recognized as a humans' and blood dripped from Harold's gauntlets. He turns to leave just to see that a crowd has gathered behind him.
Men stood in front of their families protectively as mothers tried to soothe their crying children. They all parted before him as he left, some ran away; even the guards seemed spooked. The scene felt all too familiar, just like his final day at the academy.
Yet, just like before, Harold felt no guilt. Rather, the dripping of blood created a vague sense of accomplishment before settling down into disappointment at the weakness of his foe.
'Pathetic' is the only word to cross his mind. He didn't wish to dig any deeper into his thoughts, lest he see the source of such an ugly thought, unbefitting one of his station. So he did what he did best, he ran away, with the excuse that Evelin was waiting for him.
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Thankfully Evelin was still waiting for him in the carriage. He had cleaned his gauntlets and recomposed himself on the way back. He was once again the knight that Evelin knew.
"Did you manage to get your purse back?"
"Yes, if anyone dares to think that I'm slow just because I'm in armor they'll find out that they're sorely mistaken"
"You didn't hurt him too badly did you?"
Harold pushes the image of the broken thief lying on the ground out of his mind. "Not a scratch on his body, I gave him up for the guards to handle." It was very technically the truth, the thief was (badly) bruised, not scratched or cut.
"Thank goodness, I was really scared there for a moment."
Harold flashes her a smile "Thank you for your concern, my lady. Should we move on? I believe we have many stalls to visit."
Evelin returns the smile "Let's"
The rest of the trip goes as planned with no incidents. Alanfer is a bustling metropolis and was the economic and trade hub of the region. The pair of them visit stores for essential supplies for Harold and the village; clothes, spices, tools, furniture and the like. They went to higher districts with the intention of doing some window shopping, but Harold ended up buying an orchid hairpin for Evelin.
The crimson blush and the hushed 'thank you' made the five silver more than worth it. He really had to figure out how she's able to bring so much blood to her head without passing out.
Their trip through the city ended with the two of them stuffing their faces with various street foods, even if the prices meant it was practically highway robbery.
Harold offered his date a wineskin, spiced just the way he likes it, as they made their way back home. "Want any?"
She looked at his offer with a very pensive face before finally accepting. A surprised look crossed her face after the first sip. "It's good. What's this?"
Harold smirked in pride, he had good tastes after all. "Eastern grape wine mixed with Ghana spice. It's a light drink, perfect for a long road. Surely this isn't your first time having wine."
Evelin shook her head. "No, but it's the first time I'm enjoying it. P-perhaps it's simply due to the company?" Her voice slightly shook with the awkward attempt at flirting.
"In that case, it appears as though you have ruined every future drink I will partake in! Even divine nectar brewed by God himself would surely be found lacking without you to accompany it." He ended it with a charming smile and a wink.
The girl furiously blushed before hiding herself behind her sleeves, holding back his laughter was the greatest test of will he had to endure yet. She'd need to spend at least a century meditating if she wished to challenge him in a duel of coquetry.