[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations":3,"chapter-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-11":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Nation of Ten Thousand Nations",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2332979,4562,"Chapter 11","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-11",11,"\u003Cp>The first to stride in, of course, was Princess Sibylle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like Baldwin, she inherited Amalric I’s blue eyes and her late mother’s deep brown hair, which flowed in elegant waves like seaweed in the tide, neatly braided and coiled beneath a Xinan hat—a tall, conical cap reinforced with wire inside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The princess’s hat was covered in white silk matching the lining of her long-sleeved underdress, with layers of fine gauze hanging from the crown; as she moved, it fluttered like mist or feathers encircling her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her eyes were indeed blue, but unlike Amalric I, whose gray-blue gaze was as cold as steel, or Baldwin, whose eyes were as pure as an untainted lake, her blue eyes resembled the deepest ocean, with a brilliant golden fissure encircling her black pupils, as if molten lava surged from a sea’s eye—striking, unforgettable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her skin was like accumulated snow, thick and seemingly bottomless; this extreme pallor lent her crimson velvet cloak an almost grim aura, granting her a dignity that transcended gender and age.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unlike Baldwin’s sparse retinue, the princess was followed by at least twelve maids, with attendants and servants behind them; yet only four of the most trusted and bold maids entered the room—all young, elaborately adorned, wearing either Xinan hats or floral crowns, holding bouquets, two of them carrying small hand drums at their waists and lutes in hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though they had long heard of Cesar’s name, when he was still an unknown servant, any extra attention or favor toward him would have tarnished a noble girl’s reputation; now that the princess permitted them to see him, they had no such qualms and could openly study him in detail.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The maids clustered around the dark-haired, blue-eyed boy, smiling easily, content even though they could not touch his face, hold his hand, or kiss his lips.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sibylle and Baldwin watched them with smiles, as if observing a group of kittens circling a new puppy; then Sibylle called over a maid, perhaps seven or eight years old, with a round face and big eyes. “This is Damara,” she said. “Gerard’s Damara. From now on, if you need anything, go directly to her.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is this Damara’s knight?” the maids laughed louder, teasing Damara’s flushed cheeks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He’s not a knight yet,” Damara replied, though blushing, calmly and seriously: “When he cuts the tail-flag—the sign of knighthood—he may come to swear loyalty to me. Until then, I wouldn’t mind.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She then shyly removed her gloves—tiny, white silk gloves—and handed them to Cesar. “You’re not a knight yet, so you can’t wear them on your helm, but you may place them over your heart.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar had already learned from Baldwin that in this age, any young man who became a knight was expected to have a beloved, or any noble girl of marriageable age should have a knight devoted to her forever; this love involved no physical union or marriage—they would marry others—but for the knight, this bond was worth dying to defend.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet Cesar could not comprehend this act, so revered and beautiful to others—he had never imagined that to declare a lady the most virtuous, beautiful, and wise, one must challenge dissenters to duels where one side must surrender as prisoner or die.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Damara was a girl of the Gerard family, and the only Gerard Cesar had known was the plump Abbot John, whose care for him was unquestionable; after a moment’s thought, he stepped forward, knelt on one knee before Princess Sibylle (for she was Damara’s mistress), and said: “Though I am not yet a knight, and this noble lady has not yet reached marriageable age, I pledge that if I ever become a knight, I will come to swear it to her.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The maids cheered, but only Damara’s joy was genuine; the others felt a faint bitterness, even Sibylle murmured: “Are you certain, child? Oaths are not to be trifled with!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I am certain.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Very well, very well,” Sibylle clapped her hands. “It is decided. I am witness. When you become a knight, you shall repeat this vow before God and the cross, before a priest.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These words seemed to flip a switch; everyone immediately burst into merriment. Damara passed her hand drum to another maid, who joined the lute player in music, and all began to dance joyfully.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Do not question whether the space is too narrow—dance at this time, especially in court, was solemn: men and women kept their hands at their sides, an arm’s length apart, turning gracefully around themselves or each other, with only their eyes touching.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To hold hands would be condemned by the Church as a dance of hell; thus, any space wide enough to allow people to raise their arms was sufficient for dancing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, servants brought tray after tray of delicacies: roasted venison, dried figs, walnuts, almonds, and more. As a servant, Cesar should have stood behind Baldwin, but all believed he should sit beside Damara and share her dish. “Though you are not yet a knight,” Sibylle said, “you may as well begin learning now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Damara, though still a child, was as sweet and lovely as her name (Damara means date), neither haughty nor timid, and quite bold; she ate everything Cesar offered her. Sibylle watched them, smiling. “They look well matched, don’t they, Baldwin?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Baldwin glanced over. He could not bring himself to lie outright—Damara was lovely, but Cesar’s greatest difference from his peers lay in his calmness and reserve; with Damara, he acted entirely like an elder tending a child, with no trace of romance: “Perhaps,” he said, without strong objection.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sibylle turned her gaze away, as if she had merely spoken idly, and looked at Baldwin’s plate. “Why not eat the venison?” she asked. “It’s exceptionally tender today.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I am fasting.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But today is not a fast day.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I made a vow,” Baldwin said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sibylle did not press further. After the meal, they danced again; this time, Sibylle and Baldwin danced too, Baldwin still wearing his veil and gloves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After this day, Cesar suddenly shed his invisible status. Though everyone had known Baldwin had a new servant, they only truly noticed him when Amalric I brought him to the altar as if he were the son of a duke or count, and when Princess Sibylle permitted him to become the future knight of Gerard’s Damara—only then did they awaken to the existence of such a handsome servant.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before this, Cesar’s social circle, beyond Baldwin and clerics like Heraclius, consisted only of castle servants; now, when he walked outside, the servants bowed respectfully and called him “Servant Lord.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tolerance and warmth once given to Cesar now shifted to higher-ranking pages or squires; they smiled or nodded at him, and though they dared not invite him to drink or play, they sent him many toys.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yes, toys.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was astonishing: children of this era, rich or poor, rarely received tender, special treatment; they were seen either as animals or as flawed humans—later generations believed they had no childhood at all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But human nature could never be changed or suppressed; toys appeared as tools or teaching aids. Among those Cesar now possessed were spinning tops, stilts, bubble-blowing tubes, small drums, and dolls with movable joints and rotating heads.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Baldwin, seeing the gifts Cesar brought back, eagerly retrieved his own stored toys—he had packed them away before going to the monastery. The prince’s toys were far superior: besides those mentioned, he owned bronze knight figurines—man and horse, helmet and sword detachable; a pure gold infant Christ in a silk cradle; and a set of shatranj chess pieces carved from walrus ivory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar picked up the bronze knight and golden Christ only to set them down; Baldwin noticed his gaze lingered on the shatranj set.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Do you play chess?” Baldwin asked. Though chess was among the seven knightly arts—horsemanship, swimming, archery, fencing, hunting, poetry, and chess—like most knights who preferred wielding heavy two-handed swords over a light feather pen, the last two were often ignored or barely touched.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I do not know if the rules I remember match yours.” Cesar picked up a piece and spun it between his fingers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Let’s play a game. We’ll learn as we go.” Baldwin grew interested; together they set up the board.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At this time, shatranj differed from chess centuries later in three ways: first, victory was not achieved by capturing the king, but by annihilating the entire enemy force—a fit for current customs; second, there was no queen; the king was flanked by a vizier, reflecting the status of women; third, not only did dice determine who moved first, but the number of steps each move could take was also decided by dice rolls.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At first, Cesar lost due to unfamiliarity; later, Baldwin lost a few games from overconfidence; finally, they matched evenly—Cesar was steady, cautious, thorough; even in disadvantage, he could unexpectedly turn the tide at the last moment; Baldwin’s play was sharp, aggressive, often reckless, leading to either decisive victory or crushing defeat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unaware, the light faded completely; Cesar could no longer see the pieces. Only then did they realize it was time for vespers; after sunset, eating was forbidden by doctrine. Baldwin was unfazed. “Just eat some dates.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar disagreed: “Your body needs proper nutrition.” He said: “The kitchen has prepared food for you.” This was one of his requests to Amalric I.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Baldwin reluctantly set down the board and went to light a candle. “Then I’ll wait for you. Hurry back.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When Cesar returned from the kitchen, even the vast open ground held only faint traces of sunset; several servants rode small horses, holding long wooden poles, circling a target post by the last light—a practice that was both game and training.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The target post resembled a large weather vane planted in the ground; atop it was a horizontal bar that rotated 360 degrees, one end fixed with a shield, the other suspended with a sandbag.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When a rider charged and struck the shield, the force spun the bar, swinging the sandbag to strike the rider—perfectly replicating battlefield conditions, ideal for training lance use and avoiding enemy weapons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The servants’ target posts differed slightly: lower height, smaller sandbags, and two crossed horizontal bars instead of one, forming a cross from above, with shield and sandbag mounted alternately.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One servant blocked Cesar’s path.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I am David of Tripoli,” said the servant, on the cusp of childhood and adolescence, arrogantly. “My father is Count Raymond of Tripoli. I challenge you: I declare that the most beautiful, virtuous, and wise lady in all of Alasal, the Arabian Peninsula, and the entire world is none other than the King’s daughter of Alasal—Princess Sibylle. No other woman can compare.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar set down the food basket. “Have you sworn it?” He was not a knight, nor was David—they would not be knighted until eighteen or twenty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No,” David said. “Nor have you formally sworn. But that does not prevent loyalty to ladies.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar glanced around; several knights watched but made no move to intervene. Indeed, people of this time delighted in seeing boys display early hunger for honor and victory, unafraid of pain or death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though he saw no meaning in this act, just as he had not forgiven those servants who tried to kill him, if he retreated or refused, he would be seen as a coward, inviting more scorn and bullying; if Amalric I and Baldwin felt deceived, his fate might be worse than Wit’s.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I accept,” Cesar said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>David nodded in relief. “Then you choose the weapon and method.” He strictly followed knightly custom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“God has chosen for us,” Cesar pointed to the target post beside them. “We take turns striking the shield with wooden poles. Whoever is hit first by the sandbag loses.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What if neither of us is hit?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“We continue until the sun fully sets and darkness makes the shield invisible. The one who strikes the shield most times wins.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sounds fair, but knights say you are unskilled in mounted combat.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That was before,” Cesar said. “I have a good teacher.” After his martial training resumed, Baldwin noticed Cesar could ride but was clumsy with weapons; he became Cesar’s second instructor, training him while reviewing his own skills.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Baldwin’s former martial master was Count Raymond of Tripoli, whose patron saint was the valiant Joshua, a warrior who, like the one who aided and succeeded Moses as leader of the Israelites, remained fiercely loyal to Amalric I and conquered all before him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With such a master, even at nine, Baldwin had mastered more techniques than other children; he held nothing back from Cesar. Cesar’s words softened David’s expression: “Then it’s not just fair—it’s true.” He turned to his companions. “Who will lend me his horse?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",2124,"2026-06-20T20:58:34.857Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","ead51ea2a8a2be432599e8c7e9df6f5a5a3df1ac0b744c9c690f90c09ac74470","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-12","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-10",168,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-cover.jpg"]