Don’t Tame the Tomboy

Even if you didn’t have ties to the North, you would know the rumours about Ivan.

After that day, Ivan was sent across the sea to Archetia as an outcast, and he remained so until he reached adulthood.

He was sent to study abroad at great expense, only to flunk out, and after barely graduating from the academy, he lived a life of debauchery, drinking and women.

“He is a child completely abandoned by the Count’s family. If he enters as the son-in-law of the Duke, he might have his eye on the Duke’s title and vast wealth.”

“He’s not on good terms with Katarina, is he? Why would he even try if his chances of success are slim?”

“Do not worry. He has already accepted.”

Gregory’s words were barely out of his mouth when the pub door kicked open and a grown-up Ivan walked in.

“Hey, buddy! I’m here.”

“Come over and have a seat.”

“Buddy, I appreciate what you did last time. Thanks to you, I survived, you know?”

Ivan walked over with a stiff posture and sat down, shoulder to shoulder with Gregory.

The suitors couldn’t help but roll their eyes at his audacious behavior, who casually addressed the esteemed Count, who was as old as his father as ‘buddy.’

“Let’s see. Are you all giving me money?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you hire someone to do a job, you expect them to put down a deposit.”

Gregory looked at the bewildered suitors and asked, even more surprised.

“Now, what do you mean by that? Last time I saw you, you said you’d do it on the condition that I paid off all your gambling debts.”

“I did, but now that I think about it, I think I played too cheaply for the price of making the impossible possible.”

“Then……. Tell me how much you want.”

“This much for the big one?”

Ivan held up five fingers. A year’s living expenses for a commoner.

The stunned suitors eventually gritted their teeth and dug into their wallets to pay him a down payment.

Ivan counted the money on the spot with quick fingers to make sure it was correct. His nonchalant counting was not necessarily a sign of nobility.

“Perfect. So I can put the proposal in tomorrow?”

“You’re a real man to think of taking that witchy woman!”

“It’s all about mutual support, no big deal. I even have debts to repay to that woman.”

Ivan muttered. Even now, more than a decade later, he could not forget the humiliation.

He was one of the four troublemakers that Katya had wet his pants when he was nine.

The thought of getting that long-overdue revenge was already thrilling.

“Thanks to you, we’re alive, haha, here’s your glass!”

“You’re the only one who can break the spirit of that fierce woman.”

“Let us all swear an oath for Lord Petrozsky. That if any of us marry Miss Bianca, we will not seek the ducal title!”

At Olen’s words, everyone raised their glasses in oath.

The suitors, who had quickly become friendly with Ivan, clinked glasses with him in a jovial manner. The suitors’ table quickly became lively again.

And there was a man a little further away, looking at their table wistfully.

He thought it was rude to talk about her behind her back, and that he shouldn’t be paying her to woo him.

He felt compassion for this faceless woman who was being talked about by drunken men in broad daylight.

The door to the tavern opened once more with a cheerful chime.

“Your Highness, where are you looking like that?”

The man who had opened the door came to the man’s table and spoke to him. He appeared to be the man’s companion.

When he addressed him as ‘Your Highness’, he lowered his voice so that only he could hear.

“It’s nothing serious. What happened with the request to investigate?”

“There’s a lot of commotion in here, so why don’t you leave, and I’ll explain as you go.”

The man walked out with his companion. He had barely finished the drink he had ordered.

As soon as they passed, the old man at the next table said to his colleague.

“Did you see the man who just walked past?”

“Who do you mean?”

“Oh, come to think of it, the man who was sitting by himself with his cloak hood up next to us.”

“I saw him, but why?”

“He had silver hair, didn’t he?”

His colleague threw up his hands in disbelief.

“Come on, get up. I think you’re too drunk.”

“No, I’m not drunk! It was definitely silver hair, wasn’t it?”

“Hey, man, If he’s a silver-haired person, it means he’s from the Grand Duke’s family. Why would such an esteemed person be here?”

The fellow chuckled and gently tapped the old man on the back with his cane as if to wake him up.

“Why are we already getting senile at our age? You said you saw the Grim Reaper before.”

“Did I say that? Oh my, when we get old, we should just die, indeed.”

The old man scratched his head, wondering if he had been mistaken, but then he took up his drink again.

The old man shrugged it off, but his eyes were accurate.

The man had his hair currently dyed a deep gray color, but due to some fading, traces of his original hair color were subtly revealed.

There was a faint silver tinge to it, almost imperceptible if you weren’t looking closely, and the old man had been lucky to catch it.

The man’s name was Nikolai de Vasily. He was the current Grand Duke of Hersen, who had gone into hiding in the southern provinces.

***

While Ivan and his suitors were toasting to their success. Katya had gone to the market without her father’s knowledge.

She had heard that the shamshir she had been waiting for had arrived at the shop.

While Bianca was thrilled to see the pretty teacups and saucers, Katya’s heart leapt at the new weapons.

She wasn’t as skilled in martial arts as she was in shooting or riding, but she had a hobby of collecting different weapons.

Shamshir is known for its crescent-shaped blade. It’s rare to find in the western continent, making it difficult to obtain. It is highly prized in the eastern continent, showcasing its rich heritage.

This one in particular was a limited edition, specially made by an Ecuadorian craftsman with a jewelled scabbard.

“It’s a good thing you put down a big deposit, or you’d have missed out again.”

Katya walked out of the shop with a big smile on her face.

Nikolai, who had arrived at the shop just in time, brushed past her and went inside with his aide.

From inside came the voice of the arms dealer.

“Ah, so you’ve come for the shamshir too? The last one just left. You should have come earlier.”

‘It would have been sufficient to say it’s not available. Why did you feel the need to mention that they just left?’

Concerned that the man might be chasing after her, Katya tightly held onto the shamshir and hastily continued her journey, without even pausing to rest.

When Nikolai looked back, she was already gone.

“Boris, let’s go.”

“But you’ve been waiting all this time, what’s the matter?”

“It can’t be helped. It’s not like I came down to the south because of that.”

He sounded more regretful than he meant to be. Nikolai had just left the shop.

Something lying by the side of the road caught his foot. It was a pocket watch.

“Do you happen to own this watch?”

Nikolai held it up to the arms dealer inside.

“No, sir. It must have been dropped by the lady who bought the last shamshir earlier.”

“Was the buyer who just walked out a woman?”

“You couldn’t tell because she was wearing trousers. She wanted it so badly, she paid ten times the average deposit.”

Come to think of it, her tightly braided hair seemed quite long. It was just a passing glance, so the only thing he remembered is that her hair was a strawberry blonde color.

“Okay, I’ll let you know when I see her.”

It didn’t take long for Nikolai to walk out of the shop and find the strawberry-blonde woman.

In front of the bar, to be precise, where the suitors had been earlier.

The suitors had left the bar shoulder to shoulder, but as soon as they saw her, their feet went numb and they hid.

Ivan, who had clicked his tongue at the sight of the frightened suitors, immediately charged at Katya.

He threw his arms around her waist from behind.

“It’s been a long time, Katya.”

“Who are you!”

Katya elbowed him in the stomach and quickly broke free of his embrace. Ivan chuckled, even as he was punched in the stomach.

“Don’t you remember me, I still remember you scaring me with your bow.”

“……Petrozsky?”

“Katya, I almost didn’t recognise you, you’re a woman now.”

He said, casting an unpleasant glance at Katya, whose body lines had changed.

“You’re still not above molesting people in broad daylight.”

“Are you going to scare me with a real weapon this time? Not something a grown woman would play with, right?”

“Is it really necessary to bring that up?”

Katya picked up a discarded flute from the trash heap on the roadside. Ivan burst into laughter at the sight of the broken flute.

They had once been about the same height, but now the difference in size was so obvious that he found it amusing.

“You think it’ll hurt to hit me with that?”

Ivan rolled up the sleeve of his chemise to reveal a muscular forearm.

“No. I’m going to do this!”

Katya lifted the lute with both hands and slammed it down on Ivan’s head.

The thin back plate shattered and Ivan’s head poked through the hole, leaving him in a ridiculous position with his head impaled on the lute.

Laughter erupted around the room.

“That’s better. And excuse me for being a woman. I’ve been a woman since birth, you know?”

Ivan, flushed bright red with anger and shame, shouted.

“Get her!”

With that, Ivan and the other masked men in the bar lunged for Katya.

Katya parried their fists with the shamshir in her scabbard.

Her kicks sent the men sprawling to the ground.

Curiously, she drew her shamshir from its scabbard, but she had only basic martial arts skills and was outnumbered.

Thinking quickly, Katya turned and ran with her shamshir in hand.

The men, indignant that she had been beaten in broad daylight by such a small woman, quickly gave chase.

Nikolai, who had witnessed from afar the cowardice of harassing a single woman, was sickened.

“Where are you going without a knight?”

“Just wait here for a moment.”

With that, Nikolai ran after them.

He had given the knights a break at the inn and had sneaked out, so there was no escort around.

The abandoned aide, Boris, ran after him but stumbled and fell forward, tripping over his own feet.

“Please stand! Your High–no, excuse me!”

Boris couldn’t even call his highness and shouted anxiously, holding his broken knee.