CHAPTER 540: THE COURAGE TO SPEAK

Damon leaned against the wall; his gaze fixed on a lady conversing animatedly with her companions in the main hall.

The knight’s keen eyes followed her every gesture, finding quiet amusement in each movement as though he were watching a performance made solely for him.

"So... when are you going to tell her?"

The sudden voice at his side startled him. His relaxed posture stiffened instantly, and he stepped back into a guarded stance.

His heart, which had been steady moments ago, quickened as his eyes snapped toward the man who had appeared out of nowhere.

"Sir Brooks!" he exclaimed, wide-eyed. "When did you get here?"

Noah chuckled.

"You were so absorbed in your little show that you didn’t even notice me standing here for quite some time. Good thing you’re off duty. Otherwise, I’d have scolded you for being inattentive."

Damon rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish.

Today was his rest day, with Alex and Eli covering his shift. Since Eric and Garin had departed with Kiev on the expedition, Noah was now acting as the lead.

It had been a week since the entourage’s departure, and by now, the Mederian Prince and his knights were likely approaching the City of Tarnova.

Noah crossed his arms, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

"You didn’t answer me. When’s it going to be?"

Damon blinked, confused.

"When’s what going to be?"

"Oh, don’t play dumb," Noah scoffed. "You think the rest of us haven’t noticed? Your silence gives you away more than words ever could."

"Noticed what?" Damon asked, his brows furrowing, still avoiding.

"That," Noah said, jutting his chin towards the lady standing among Mary and Scarlett, still engrossed in her conversation.

Damon felt heat rush to his face, his tanned skin barely hiding the flush that burned there. Quickly, he turned away, pretending to be suddenly fascinated by the opposite wall.

"I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Sir Brooks."

"Really?" Noah raised a brow, his tone dripping with mock disbelief. "You’re just going to keep playing the ’let-me-stalk-you’ game and let the chance slip by? You’ll never stand a chance if all you do is stare. You’ve been doing that since the days we guarded Lady Raychard at the palace! Don’t be foolish!"

Damon blinked, caught off guard.

"How do you know about that?"

The question came out half in disbelief, half in resignation. It was clear now—his little secret hadn’t been as secret as he thought.

Noah smirked.

"Eyes, my friend. Senior knights tend to notice... let’s call it peculiar behaviour among those around us. You and Sir Henderson haven’t developed that level of awareness yet."

Damon gave a small, helpless laugh. He couldn’t deny it. He was still a mid-ranked knight, while Eli had yet to serve even a whole year since his ordination.

Noah, on the other hand, was a former mercenary with a reputation for sharp instincts and mastery in nearly every skill.

Finally, he sighed.

"What should I even say to her, Sir Brooks? She doesn’t seem interested in... well, in any relationship of that sort."

Noah’s gaze drifted toward Helen—the lady who had captured Damon’s attention. Her bright smile as she spoke with Mary and Scarlett radiated warmth; she was the kind of woman whose kindness showed in every word and gesture.

"Didn’t you once say you had your own plans," Noah asked, "when you declined the nomination for the Princess of Galicia’s hand?"

Damon lowered his eyes, his expression dimming.

"Truthfully... I didn’t. I only said that to avoid the subject," he admitted in frustration.

"That’s surprising," Noah said, crossing his arms. "I thought when you proposed Helen as Lady Raychard’s attendant, that was part of the idea. You certainly succeeded in bringing her closer."

"It wasn’t like that," Damon replied quietly. "Back when Lady Raychard was in hiding, Miss Reed proved herself to be loyal, dependable, and steadfast even in chaos. It’s rare to find someone with that kind of talent. I just thought she was the right person for the position, that’s all."

Noah nodded thoughtfully.

"A fair judgment, and the results speak for themselves. But tell me, what now? Are you planning to keep admiring her from a distance forever?"

"I-I don’t know," Damon admitted, his voice faltering. "She’s so focused on her duties and so dedicated that she barely even looks my way. How could I possibly tell her how I feel?"

"First of all," Noah began, "a woman like her won’t fall for sugar-coated words like some naive maiden. Secondly, she’s a widow, and someone who has lived through hardship like that doesn’t bend easily. She’s strong, grounded, and resilient. So, if you’re going to tell her, don’t beat around the bush. Speak plainly. She’ll respect that, and you’ll get your answer."

Damon’s eyes widened. How on earth did the knight know about Helen’s past and her widowhood?

Then again... this was Noah. There was no need to ask.

The man was no ordinary knight. He was a seasoned veteran with an uncanny knack for uncovering truths that others wanted to remain buried.

Once, with nothing but a glare—no blade drawn, no raised voice—Noah had made Bridgette, the former lady-in-waiting, and her servants drop to their knees and confess every vile scheme Sarah had plotted against Anna.

That alone had shown his formidable reputation.

"What are you waiting for?" Noah prodded when he saw Damon still rooted in place. "Go on! Tell her!"

"Now?" the knight hesitated, glancing at the lady in question.

"Then when? Next month? Next year?" Noah shot back. "Life is unpredictable. You never know what’s waiting around the corner. Do you really want to waste precious time just standing here, watching?"

Damon frowned, silent and conflicted, clearly wrestling with his thoughts.

"Just go already!" Noah groaned. "You’re annoying to look at when you hesitate like that! It’s not like she’ll kill you!"

Before Damon could protest, Noah gave him a firm push on the shoulder.

The younger knight stumbled but quickly regained his balance, straightening himself. His pulse raced, but as he took a steadying breath, Noah’s words echoed in his mind.

The man was right. Nothing would ever happen if he stayed a silent observer.

’All right. Here we go.’

With resolve burning in his eyes, Damon squared his shoulders and began striding toward Helen, just as she finished her discussion with Mary and Scarlett.

"Thanks for the advice, Miss Reed! We’ll take care of it and let you know once it’s done," Scarlett chirped before heading off with Mary to resume their duties.

Helen smiled and nodded perfectly in time as Damon arrived like a synchronised movement of a dance.

"Miss Reed."

Helen twirled around, her eyes catching sight of the tall knight before her.

"Oh, Sir McQuinn! Yes? Is there something you need?" she asked brightly, her smile warm and unguarded.

Damon nearly lost his composure, undone by the soft sweetness in her voice and the kindness in her smile.

’God, this is not going to be easy!’

"Are you all right?" Helen asked, noticing the slight wobble in his stance. Her gaze swept him up and down in quick assessment, concern creasing her brow.

"I... uh—umm—I’m fine!" Damon managed, though his voice came out strained.

His clenched fists at his side betrayed him.

Helen tilted her head, studying him. Something was clearly bothering the knight.

"Are you sure? You look rather troubled. Is it something to do with our lady? Or perhaps... my service to her?"

"No! Not that!" Damon blurted, a little too loudly.

Helen flinched, startled by the sudden outburst. Realising his mistake, the knight shut his eyes briefly and sighed in frustration. Brilliant. He’d probably terrified her now.

"Then—"

"Can we talk?" he interrupted, voice firmer this time. "In private?"

"All right," Helen replied carefully, sensing something profound in his tone.

His expression and awkward manner clearly suggested so.

"Let’s go to the outer cloister. That would be a better place to talk," Damon suggested.

Helen nodded, and the two soon walked off, heading toward the said place.

Meanwhile, a few moments earlier, Noah placed his hand behind his back and gave a quick wrist flick, signalling for the other high-ranking knights to come out as soon as Damon approached Helen.

Luke and Drystan emerged from their hiding spot like two mischievous boys engaging in a prank led by Noah.

"He’s going for it!" Luke whispered, grinning widely as he looked at the pair. "Didn’t think you were such a good motivator, Sir Brooks!"

Noah crossed his arms, smug as ever.

"You think persuasion’s only Sir Navin’s talent? Please. I could melt the hardest heart with just a few well-placed words."

"Would love to see that!" Drystan said eagerly. "Care to demonstrate?"

Noah turned his head towards him with a stern, solemn look.

"You want Emily to strangle me to death?" he asked dramatically.

"Come on! Not for real... just for educational purposes!" Drystan insisted.

Noah’s expression didn’t change.

"Never mind," Drystan muttered quickly, averting his gaze after receiving that wordless warning.

"Look! They’re moving somewhere!" said Luke, who had been keeping an eye on the couple. "Let’s follow them!"

"All right, gentlemen, get your money ready!" Noah said with a grin as they began to move. "We’ll see who wins the bet!"