Chapter 43: The Deadlock, The Knight

During the process of tallying his debts, Edward felt increasingly overwhelmed by despair and fear. Each debt was clearly itemized, and the sums stabbed at his eyes and soul like sharp daggers. He widened his eyes and murmured to himself, "Four hundred thousand pounds... How could I owe so much..." His hands trembled uncontrollably, barely able to hold the paper. He had, with interest, already accumulated a staggering debt of four hundred thousand pounds!

On the surface, he was revered by the nobles as the king of both England and France, enjoying an appearance of honor. But in reality, he was like a hostage trapped in a cage, tightly bound by the enormous debts he owed, unable to move. The nobles deliberated without any pretense, coldly deciding to “invite” him to Brabant, where he would remain until his debts were fully repaid.

Edward sat there, his face as pale as paper, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his body trembling slightly as he roared inwardly: “Damn Philip of Valois, damn Stratford! And damn all these nobles!”

Meanwhile, on the road to Boulogne, Carlo and his companions moved slowly forward, drawing ever closer to the enchanting coastal city, while the distance from Florence grew longer and longer. Roberto seized the moment to quietly approach Carlo, lowering his voice: “Carlo, let’s run away. Look, I’ve secretly hidden thirty Tourlivers for myself. If I can get a little more from Ressarit, I think it’ll be enough to hire a small band of mercenaries to escort us back to Florence.”

As he spoke, a trace of urgency and hope shone in Roberto’s eyes, and he gently tugged at Carlo’s sleeve. Carlo was momentarily startled; he vaguely recalled that he had been the one to mention escape initially, but now he was almost forgetting that. With a hint of puzzlement, he asked, “Roberto, you’re about to be knighted with lands of your own—why the sudden desire to leave?”

Roberto sighed softly, his gaze filled with a touch of nostalgia. “Becoming a noble sounds good, but lately I’ve been thinking—my family and friends are in Florence. Especially Aunt Adriana; she must be terribly worried about you. Compared to the title and lands of a knight, I realize I care more about family.”

His eyes softened as he spoke of family, unconsciously looking toward Florence, a faint melancholy touching his face.

Carlo felt a complex wave of emotions. Indeed, Roberto had familiar family in Florence, and Carlo’s original self had many relatives there too. But emotionally and in memory, Carlo found it difficult to reintegrate into that world now; these Frenchmen beside him felt more like family.

“Roberto, if it weren’t for Ressarit at the Port of Sluis, we might not have survived. We’ve been through so many battles together, and I’ve come to see myself truly as his squire. I want to honor my oath, so I don’t intend to leave.” Carlo sighed helplessly, patting Roberto’s shoulder firmly, then added, “But if you want to leave, then go—you don’t have to run away. I think if you talk to Ressarit honestly, he won’t refuse.”

Roberto was silent for a long while, their footsteps and the whisper of the breeze the only sounds around. Finally, he looked up, his gaze resolute: “Carlo, you’re right. We should keep our oath. I’m his squire too. I’ve decided to stay here with you and become a knight of Flanders!”

Clenching his fists, Roberto’s face showed determination. “Once we’re settled, let’s send a letter to Florence—at least to let our families know we’re alive.” His voice trembled slightly, his eyes moist. “I want Aunt Adriana to know I’ve always been by your side.”

Carlo looked at Roberto with a pang of guilt. He knew his attitude was harsh to Roberto, who had so many people and things he cared about in this world. Yet now, Carlo only cared about those around him. He reassured him with a pat on the shoulder: “Roberto, I know. Thank you for always protecting me. But don’t be sad now—you’re about to become a true knight!”

Suddenly, Roberto smiled brightly, as if dispelling the shadows in his heart. Confidently, he declared, “Yes, I will be a good knight and defend my beliefs!”

Intent on expressing his resolve to Lady Joan, Roberto and Carlo entered a room where the lady was in the midst of a heated debate with a knight. The knight’s face was flushed with emotion as he argued, “My lady, you cannot so lightly bestow knighthood upon an outsider—he knows nothing of our customs!”

Lady Joan’s expression was stern and authoritative as she replied, “I have made my judgment. He has shown extraordinary merit in defending against invaders, and his character is noble. His kindness and courage deserve my support. We cannot overlook his worth simply because he is an outsider.”

Noticing Roberto and Carlo’s entrance, the two paused their argument and turned their attention to them. Roberto approached Lady Joan, who stood in the center of the room like a brilliant pearl. She was a beautiful and noble young woman, graceful and exuding an innate elegance. Dressed in splendid silk garments, adorned with delicate jeweled headpieces, her deep, bright eyes held an air of dignity and wisdom that commanded respect.

Roberto knelt on one knee with reverence and saluted Lady Joan, then spoke firmly: “Lady Joan, I was once uncertain and hesitant about becoming a knight. But after all I have experienced and reflected upon, I have made up my mind. I am willing to accept your knighting, to become a knight who defends you and the beautiful, sacred land of Boulogne with my life. I will uphold the code of chivalry and fight for justice and honor.”

Lady Joan regarded him with a gentle smile of approval and warmth. “Roberto, I have heard of your deeds. I trust your oath and will not spare the honors due you. Prepare your coat of arms and family motto—I cannot knight a ‘blank slate’.”

Her words carried a teasing tone but were filled with recognition and expectation. Roberto respectfully took his leave. Soon, word spread through the company about his initial wish to decline the knighthood.

Upon hearing this, Ressarit smiled with satisfaction, nodding: “I was right not to doubt him. Roberto is a man of noble character who values not lands or wealth but honor. He will be an outstanding knight.”

Luca Griffiths, however, was dumbfounded, mouth agape in disbelief: “No way! That’s a lie! Roberto’s up to something!”

Charles Angelos looked utterly confused and asked, “What? Is it time to eat?” His attention clearly elsewhere.