The arrangements had been finalized, and the Illenia Knights Order had officially transferred to their designated stations.
While the separation from comrades they’d grown used to seeing daily brought a touch of melancholy, visitations were still permitted—and the generous up-front payment helped soften the blow.
At the very least, psychologically, it was manageable.
Several Astrea butlers were assigned to guide the knights around the estate grounds, while maids assisted with the relocation process to ensure a smooth transition into their new lodgings.
Vanitas had spared no expense.
Each room was not only furnished with essentials but also included personal luxuries.
——This is your new room, sir?
——Holy shit…!
The knights couldn’t hide their astonishment. The rooms were extravagant, far beyond their expectations, and elegant enough to rival noble quarters. For many of them, it was the first time they’d been treated like anything more than soldiers.
As for Margaret, her quarters, along with those of her two highest-ranking officers, were situated within the Astrea manor itself. Their rooms were nothing short of regal.
A young maid curtsied before her.
“I’m Denise. I’ll be tending to you from this day forward, Lady Margaret. Please don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything.”
“Y-Yes,” Margaret replied, still a bit stunned.
She stepped into her new chamber. It was larger and more ornate than she had ever imagined. Polished wood flooring, a grand canopy bed with enchanted silk drapery, a full wall of arched windows offering a view of the landscaped gardens, and a fireplace that responded to a small touch of mana.
Her sword calluses felt oddly out of place here.
“…This is too much,” she murmured under her breath.
It was much more extravagant than anything she could remember during her time as a princess in the Kingdom of Illenia.
“It’s Lord Vanitas’s orders,” Denise said cheerfully, sensing her hesitation. “He said that as his personal knight, your room should reflect that status.”
Margaret blinked, unsure how to respond.
She had sworn herself to protect Vanitas.
But the reality of what that oath entailed… was starting to settle in.
Thinking back to their days at the university tower, she had never once considered the full weight of his prestige.
Back then, he was simply Vanitas. An intelligent, sharp-tongued boy from the other department. Someone she respected, admired, perhaps even envied in moments.
Yet now… he was a Marquess. And with that title came a reality she could no longer ignore.
As of today, the Illenia Knights Order was serving a fully established high noble.
A position most Crusade Orders could only ever dream of. Even then, not every Crusade Order was granted the honor of such service.
The old noble houses had long-standing ties with specific Crusade Orders that went back centuries.
But hers?
Her order was still new without generations of history to back it.
And only now did she realize what this truly meant.
They had won the lottery.
“Is everything to your liking, Lady Margaret?” Denise asked.
Margaret nodded absentmindedly, stepping further into the room. “Yes… it’s perfect.”
“Wonderful,” Denise replied with a smile. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll guide you personally through the estate grounds. There’s quite a bit to see. The training fields, the gym, the armory annex, the gardens… and of course, the central command wing where your office will be located.”
“My…. office?” Margaret blinked.
“Yes.” Denise gave a courteous nod. “Lord Vanitas had it arranged. As the head of the stationed Illenia Knights, he thought it’d be appropriate that you have your own dedicated space for reports, logistics, and correspondence. It’s fully equipped.”
Margaret’s brows furrowed slightly. “He thought of everything, didn’t he…”
“He did,” Denise said with a soft chuckle. “Lord Vanitas is very thorough.”
Margaret didn’t reply. Instead, she moved to the tall windows and glanced outside, where knights were still being guided to their respective quarters, some still reacting in disbelief at the luxury they’d been granted.
Her hand came to rest over her chest, fingers tightening slightly over her tunic.
“I’ll get ready,” she said, turning from the window.
“Of course,” Denise replied with a small bow. “I’ll be waiting just outside.”
As the maid stepped out, Margaret let the silence fill the room once more.
Then, drawing in a slow breath, she moved toward her travel packs and kneeled beside them as she began to unpack.
One by one, she sorted through her belongings. She folded her sets of uniforms, undergarments, training gear, and casual clothes in the rigid manner of a knight.
Old habits, it seemed, died hard.
She placed her folded uniforms in the wardrobe, her underwear in the side drawers, and finally retrieved a small wooden box from the bottom of her bag.
Inside were a few personal trinkets. An old ribbon from her academy days, a medallion bearing the Illenia family crest, and an old but neat letter from her late father.
“….”
Her fingers paused on the letter. She stared at it for a long moment.
Then gently set it inside the drawer.
After closing it, she stood up and moved to the mirror. She quickly tied her hair up into her trademark ponytail, adjusted her jacket, and checked her posture.
As she looked at her reflection, a thought that she hadn’t considered until now crept into her mind.
‘As Vanitas’s personal knight… wouldn’t there be noble gatherings?’
Events where she would serve as his formal escort.
Her eyes drifted briefly toward the elegant wardrobe behind her.
With the generous stipend Vanitas had given her upfront, she could afford something suitable. A gown that fit the setting. That fit the image expected of someone standing beside a Marquess.
“Dresses….”
It had been years.
Not since the old days of Illenia had she worn one.
Her hand twitched slightly.
Slap!
She struck her cheek lightly, snapping herself out of her thoughts.
“Hoo….” She exhaled deeply.
She was overthinking again.
“….”
With one last glance in the mirror, Margaret turned and stepped toward the door.
Denise was already waiting in the hallway with her hands clasped in front of her, wearing a warm smile.
“Shall we begin the tour, Lady Margaret?”
Margaret nodded. “I’ll be in your care, Denise.”
* * *
“I still don’t understand how it’s possible… but a perfect score.”
Vanitas Astrea stepped out of the examination hall, having just completed the evaluation segment of the Imperial Professor Test’s second phase, a grueling three-day session that demanded the candidates remain during the entire test.
One of the evaluators glanced up from the papers and eyed him suspiciously.
“Are you cheating, by any chance?”
“….”
Vanitas frowned.
“I’m joking, I’m joking,” the evaluator added quickly.
Not that cheating was possible in the first place. The test was layered with measures to prevent dishonesty—encrypted answer sheets, motion detection to flag suspicious behavior, psyche scans to detect blank or panicked minds, even mana influx monitoring throughout the room.
Every angle was accounted for.
Still, Vanitas couldn’t help but think that “cheating” wasn’t entirely inaccurate.
Because the real reason he aced the test… was his stigmata.
A repository of knowledge beyond this world.
Even so, after more than a year in this world, Vanitas had developed a solid grasp of the language known as magic. It was a far-cry from perfect, but enough to get by.
At best, he’d equate his unaided technical understanding to somewhere around a high school level in this world.
That said, the Imperial Professor Test was no shallow examination. It spanned five phases, with each phase designed to rigorously evaluate every essential trait.
Psychological resilience, methodological clarity, and technical mastery. A scholar couldn’t afford to be lacking in any area.
It didn’t take long, as three days later, Vanitas was summoned once again for the third phase.
“Private tutoring?” he asked.
“Yes,” the evaluator confirmed with a nod. “Lecture halls and structured presentations are one thing, but the test also requires you to demonstrate your ability to adapt material to a one-on-one setting.”
Vanitas had done his fair share of tutoring with his students before. However, commissioned personal tutoring required a different level of finesse. An awareness of the student’s learning pace, a personalized teaching method, and a degree of emotional sensitivity.
With his students, the groundwork had already been laid. He knew their strengths and weaknesses. But this? He’d be going in blind.
Vanitas folded his arms as he considered it. “And the student?”
“You’ll be allowed to choose from a list of active commissions,” the evaluator replied, handing him a folder. “Each one has been pre-screened to meet the test’s parameters. Different ages, skill levels, and personalities. The difficulty is part of the challenge.”
“I see.”
He flipped open the folder. Dozens of names, profiles, and requested topics were listed—some academic, some magical, and a few that made him raise a brow.
“Pick whichever one you like,” the evaluator added. “But once you accept, you’re bound to finish the session. You’ll be graded based on clarity, engagement, and how much the student improves by the end.”
“….”
Vanitas scanned the profiles quietly.
This phase wasn’t going to be about showing off knowledge, but restraint, adaptability, and patience.
Lots of patience.
If he made the wrong choice, he might end up stuck tutoring a complete dumbass. But given the nature of the test, Vanitas was certain each commission came with a twist that would push each candidate to their limits, if not outright frustrate them into failure.
He began skimming for a commission that seemed relatively simple.
But then… one name made him pause.
——Lawine Rothsfield.
“….”
Or rather, the given information present that came with the request.
“I’ll take this one,” he said, pointing to the listing.
The evaluator leaned forward to confirm the name, then looked up slowly.
“….Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“This… won’t be a typical tutoring session,” the evaluator said carefully. “You’re aware of that, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
A beat of silence passed between them. The evaluator held his gaze for a moment longer, as if expecting him to change his mind. When Vanitas didn’t, he finally gave a nod.
“Very well. We’ll make the arrangements.”
* * *
Vanitas stepped through the grand gates of the estate, his eyes sweeping over the sight before him.
For the first time, it wasn’t the butlers who stood watch at the entrance, but actual knights.
“Lord Astrea.”
The knights bowed in unison.
Vanitas paused mid-step and glanced at them. “How are you all settling in?” he asked.
One of the knights stepped forward with a hand to his chest.
“There were some… adjustments, my lord. But the estate staff have been very accommodating. Our quarters are more than adequate, and the training grounds are currently being assessed for long-term drills.”
Vanitas gave a slow nod. “Good.”
“Morale is… unusually high.”
Vanitas raised a brow. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No, sir!” the knight answered quickly. “It’s just… we’re not used to being treated like this.”
Vanitas didn’t respond right away. Instead, he turned to look toward the estate grounds, where more knights were marching, training, or adjusting to their new assignments.
The sight of it was surreal, even to him.
So many pieces were finally in place.
“Get used to it,” he said simply. “You’re under Astrea now.”
“Yes, my lord!”
Vanitas resumed walking, the sound of his boots echoing as the knights saluted behind him.
From across the training grounds, he caught sight of Margaret with a small group of knights, reviewing what appeared to be the day’s training regimen.
As Vanitas passed, his gaze briefly met that of one of the female knights in the group. She bowed politely, and he gave a small nod in return. Without a word he resumed walking and stepped through the estate’s main entrance.
The doors opened before him, and this time, it was not a butler, but a knight—who stood guard inside the foyer.
“Welcome home, Lord Astrea,” the knight said, bowing respectfully.
Vanitas gave a quiet hum in response and moved past him. The halls now buzzed with activity as staff worked in rhythm with the stationed knights.
The subtle signs of change were beginning to take root in every corner of the manor.
“….”
He removed his coat as he made his way through the corridor.
A servant appeared at his side. “Would you like tea prepared in your study, my lord?”
Vanitas paused for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I’ll be at the gym.”
“Understood.”
Continuing up the stairs, Vanitas caught sight of Denise coming down from the upper hall. The maid straightened immediately upon seeing him.
“Denise,” he called out as he approached.
“Yes, Lord Vanitas?” she replied, bowing slightly.
“How is Margaret settling in?” he asked. “Does she like her room? Any requests? Changes?”
Denise shook her head gently. “She seemed surprised at first, but I believe she’s adjusting. She hasn’t made any requests, though I noticed she spent quite a bit of time organizing her things personally. She also mentioned the room was… perfect, if I may quote her directly.”
Vanitas gave a slight nod. “Good. If anything comes up, make sure she’s comfortable.”
“I understand, my lord. I’ll continue to assist her personally, as assigned.”
“Also,” Vanitas added, “where’s Charlotte?”
“The Lady is currently holed up in the study,” Denise replied. “She’s been reviewing all day and hasn’t left since breakfast. Would you like me to call her?”
Vanitas paused, then shook his head. “No. Let her be. Just make sure she eats.”
“Of course,” Denise said with a courteous bow.
Denise bowed once more before continuing down the stairs.
Vanitas stood for a moment as his gaze drifted briefly toward the second floor hallway where Margaret’s quarters were located.
Then, without another word, he turned and made his way toward the estate gym.