Chapter 19
The garden of the Eisengard mansion.
Beneath the warm sunlight, a peaceful tea time was in full swing.
“My goodness, Lady Kara. The angle at which you’re holding that teacup... It’s exactly the textbook example from the Imperial etiquette manual. How did you learn it so quickly?”
The head maid clapped in admiration.
Seated at the table, Kara set down her teacup elegantly and smiled.
“Really? I’m just doing it comfortably.”
“Your posture is so natural. You have far more grace than most noble ladies.”
At the servants’ barrage of praise, Kara wrinkled her nose bashfully.
The servants who had struggled with her at first had now fallen completely for Kara’s easygoing, friendly charm and become close enough to treat one another like sisters.
I watched from a distance and clicked my tongue in disbelief.
‘That’s what she calls comfortable?’
Even after practicing until I nearly died, my hand still trembled.
Because I was afraid I’d break the handle.
When I asked her later, Kara’s answer was simple.
『It’s easy because it’s similar to swordsmanship. Relax your shoulders, set the angle of your wrist, control your breathing. I don’t see how it’s different.』
She had applied the delicate sense she used to handle a sword to handling a teacup.
‘Isn’t that like telling someone to watch the ball before they hit it....’
I swallowed my bitterness and turned away.
Because an even greater ordeal was waiting for me.
Afternoon.
The mansion’s kitchen was thrown into an uproar.
“L-Lady Kara! You can’t do that!”
The head chef frantically tried to stop Kara.
It was because of the armful of greens Kara had gathered from a corner of the garden.
“That’s 「Sprinkle Fern」! It’s a weed considered poisonous, and eating it will upset your stomach! If the count sees this, he’ll faint!”
In the Empire, it was a plant treated as poisonous and pulled out.
Eisen had also brought it back from a previous diplomatic mission because it was edible and planted it in the garden, but no one knew how to prepare it, so no one had dared touch it.
But Kara ignored them and rolled up her sleeves.
“Oh, come on, it’s not poisonous. It’s delicious if you prepare it properly.”
In Norhaim’s winters, when food was scarce.
To survive in that harsh land, the tribespeople had learned how to turn even poisonous plants into food.
Kara placed a pot of water over the fire with practiced ease.
“Blanch it in salt water to draw out the poison, then soak it in water mixed with flour to get rid of the bitterness. I’ll show you.”
She took command of the kitchen and began cooking.
The chefs, anxious at first, began matching her pace as if bewitched by her deft knife work and cooking methods.
And a short while later.
Bubble, bubble.
“Oh my...?”
A bitter yet nutty aroma spread throughout the kitchen.
The foul smell unique to poisonous plants vanished, leaving only the mouthwatering fragrance of wild mountain greens.
“It smells... really nutty?”
“Right? In our tribe, it’s a rare delicacy. It’s even better stir-fried. We stir-fried it in deer fat.”
Kara nodded in satisfaction as she tasted it.
“The count will like it too. Probably.”
At the same time, in the mansion’s dining room.
I sat across from Count Eisen with a cold sweat running down my back.
After graduating from quill-pen hell, I was now in silverware hell.
“Mr. Varg. When cutting a steak, you mustn’t press down with force as though sawing.”
Count Eisen corrected me in a stern voice.
“Push it gently along the grain of the meat... Yes, just like playing a cello.”
“A cello...?”
It was an extremely difficult analogy for someone who had been in charge of the drums in the tribe.
I moved the knife in my hand as cautiously as if it were Excalibur.
Squeak...
Fortunately, no disaster occurred in which the plate broke or the meat turned to mush.
‘No matter how I think about it, the quills really were too weak.’
“Phew... Was that successful?”
“Excellent. You’ve improved considerably at controlling your strength.”
Count Eisen adjusted his glasses and looked pleased.
“Now try the soup. Make no sound, and move from the inside outward.”
I moved the spoon like a robot.
This wasn’t mealtime. It was torture time.
It would honestly have been easier to lift my drunken father-in-law, Gorgon.
After the dining-etiquette lesson that felt like an hour, Count Eisen briefly left the room.
“Haaah....”
Only then did I lean back against the chair and relax.
Even though it had been a simple meal, it felt as though every muscle in my body was screaming.
Especially the cursive practice.
Because of those fragile quills, the difference in our progress between Kara and me had been particularly pronounced, and the tension from that time had seeped into my body.
I absentmindedly looked down at the silver spoon I was holding.
“...Huh?”
My eyes widened.
The neck of the spoon was bent like a strand of taffy and twisted like a braided pastry.
It had definitely been fine during the lesson.
‘Ah.’
It seemed that the moment the lesson ended and I relaxed in relief, my grip had unconsciously tightened.
“Why is this happening? I relaxed my grip.”
Even though I had been more careful than when breaking a quill, this was the result.
If I couldn’t control this strength, I might have to reimburse the academy cafeteria for a spoon every day.
‘This is bad. At this rate, Lonas is going to give me hell....’
Just as I was seriously pondering the twisted spoon.
Squeak.
The dining-room door opened, and someone staggered in.
It was Lonas.
“Water... Some water....”
With hollow eyes, he accepted the cup a servant handed him.
The contents were a thick, dark-green liquid.
It was a special vegetable juice said to be good for recovering from fatigue.
Lonas downed the unappetizing green liquid in one gulp just to stay alive.
Gulp, gulp.
Then, as he caught his breath, he happened to glance sideways at me.
“......?!”
His gaze locked onto the object in my hand.
An artistically twisted silver spoon.
Lonas’s pupils shook as though an earthquake had struck.
‘That man... They gave him a spoon to eat with, and he’s making modern art with it. Is he a monster?’
It had clearly been an eating utensil, but in that man’s hand, it had turned into a weapon.
Lonas flinched and took a step back.
The way he looked startled at the sight of a barbarian was exactly like his father’s.
When our eyes met, he set the empty glass down on the table without a word and hurriedly left.
“...Hey? I think you’ve got the wrong idea.”
My excuse disappeared behind the closed door.
* * *
Dinner time.
Kara’s 「Seasoned Sprinkle Fern Greens」 was placed in the center of the dining table.
Amid the Empire’s elaborate dishes, it had an especially rough and plain appearance.
But its smell alone made its presence unmistakable.
Count Eisen picked up his fork with a puzzled expression.
“This is...”
“I made it. I heard it’s a plant people in the Empire don’t eat, but I guarantee it tastes good.”
Kara urged him on, her eyes sparkling.
The count nervously took a bite of the greens.
Chew, chew.
His eyes widened at once.
“Th-this is...!”
The count’s fork stopped.
His gaze turned toward empty space, then slowly returned to the plate.
His eyes grew moist with wistfulness.
“...It’s that taste—the one I ate until I was sick of it with that rascal Gorgon during the expedition.”
“You know it?”
“How could I not? Twenty years ago, during that cold winter when our supplies were cut off and we were isolated... this was the only food Granny Baba brought us.”
A bitter yet nostalgic smile spread around the count’s lips.
“Things were difficult for both of us then, so we survived by mixing liquor into plain water and drinking it while subsisting on this one dish of greens. They were bitter and tough... but they were grateful little things that filled our bellies.”
As though savoring the memory, he swallowed another mouthful of greens.
Then he tilted his head, suddenly puzzled.
“But something is odd. When I went to the tribe a few days ago to bring you two here, these greens weren’t on the table. The table was laden with meat and even precious fruit... enough to break its legs.”
The count looked privately disappointed.
“I had been longing for that taste. It seems that rascal Gorgon has forgotten his old friend’s palate.”
At that, Kara smiled.
“No. Father didn’t want to serve it to you.”
“...He didn’t want to?”
“How could he serve a friend he hadn’t seen in so long food he used to force himself to make so he wouldn’t starve?”
Kara said it matter-of-factly.
“My father has a lot of pride, you know. Even if he had to go hungry, he wanted to put only the best meat and the finest liquor on the table for you, his friend and honored guest.”
“......!”
Count Eisen’s pupils trembled.
“That’s why he had the hunters go out days ago and badgered them to catch the best deer. He even told them not to look at these greens.”
“Ah....”
Count Eisen could not continue.
Something heavy settled in a corner of his heart.
‘So that’s what it was. Gorgon, you foolish old friend.’
He had merely been longing for the taste of an old memory.
To Gorgon, that taste was a memory of poverty and hardship—a shame he did not want to show the friend who had returned successful.
‘What I missed wasn’t a lavish feast, but the taste of those bitter greens we chewed together on a day when the snowstorm raged.’
Gorgon’s clumsy yet profound consideration, hiding the memory of poverty and giving his friend the best treatment he could.
The count’s throat tightened.
He removed his glasses, wiped at the corners of his eyes, and picked up his fork again.
“...It’s delicious. Truly delicious, Miss Kara.”
“I’m glad. Eat plenty.”
“Yes. I should. I can’t leave any of this precious food behind.”
That day, Count Eisen left the lavish steak untouched and cleanly emptied the plain dish of greens.
* * *
The table at Eisengard was plain but warm.
A retired gentleman, his household, and a barbarian couple sat around it, sharing small talk and laughter.
But around the same time, an entirely different atmosphere prevailed elsewhere in the northern Empire.
The main castle of the Northgard Grand Duchy.
A place where massive walls and sharp spires created an intimidating presence.
A boy was walking through the castle corridors as darkness settled.
It was Kairon.
Having just returned from inspecting the border, the boy’s steps were lighter than usual.
He had not even changed his clothes yet.
With the hem of his coat still streaked with dust, he headed toward an annex deep inside the castle.
It was the residence of 「Karl von Northgard」, the eldest son of the Grand Ducal House and Kairon’s elder brother.
‘I should tell Big Brother first.’
Childlike excitement filled Kairon’s face.
The things he had experienced at the border.
The terrifying carriage accident and the story of being saved by a barbarian named Varg.
And above all, he wanted to boast that he had seen with his own eyes the true embodiment of the strength he had admired all his life.
Because his brother was the only person who would listen to his story seriously and sympathize with him.
To Kairon, Karl was his brother, his teacher, and the one he worried about most.
A tragic genius whose lower body had been paralyzed in an accident when he was young.
But he had not given up.
After grueling rehabilitation, he had recovered enough to walk with a cane, and even the commander of the knights had been left impressed by his swordsmanship theory.
But.
‘If only that damned illness hadn’t flared up again....’
A year ago, an illness of unknown cause had struck him. The muscles he had built through rehabilitation wasted away again, and Karl had ultimately been confined to a wheelchair once more.
Even so, his brother had not fallen apart.
Instead, he was a dependable pillar who quietly supported Kairon from behind while worrying about him.
‘His body may be impaired, but he’s far more capable than I am... Why won’t Father acknowledge him?’
Swallowing his bitterness, Kairon knocked on the door of the annex study.
Knock, knock.
“Big Brother? It’s Kairon. May I come in?”
But there was no answer.
Kairon cautiously opened the door, but the study was empty.
“Are you looking for the young master?”
A passing servant bowed his head.
“Oh. Where did Big Brother go? It isn’t time for him to sleep yet.”
“Well... he went to the main building to give a report on his work to His Grace the Grand Duke.”
“To Father?”
Kairon tilted his head.
It was customary for servants or aides to handle regular reports.
Why would his physically impaired brother go in person, especially this late?
‘Could something important have happened?’
Puzzled, Kairon turned around and headed to the main building, to the Grand Duke’s study.
In front of the Grand Duke’s study.
Guards stood watch at the door, but they did not stop Kairon, the younger son.
Just as he was about to grasp the doorknob.
A voice drifted out from inside, cold enough to seem like a chill.
“Karl. Haven’t I asked you a question?”
It was the voice of his father, the Northgard Grand Duke.
The tone was emotionless, businesslike, and cold.
“Why did you go to the trouble of dragging that inconvenient leg here in person? It would have been sufficient to send the report with an aide.”
“I... I thought it was my duty to report to you in person, Father... That’s how it’s always been....”
Karl’s voice was cowed.
It trembled like a criminal pleading for mercy.
“And... I also have something to say about this year’s border-defense budget proposal....”
“Enough.”
The Grand Duke cut him off.
Rustle.
The sound of turning pages was the only thing filling the silence.
“I’ll review the budget proposal you drafted. It’s your work, so a review is all it needs. However, there’s no need for you to explain it in front of me.”
“......”
“You look unsightly, so go back.”
“......!”
Outside the door, Kairon’s fist clenched tightly.
Unpleasant to look at?
Was that something to say to his own son, especially one who was ill?
But the Grand Duke’s vicious words did not stop there.
“And from now on, don’t bother coming here to report in person. The sound of you dragging your wheelchair here is unpleasant.”
“......I’m sorry, Father.”
“Go. I’m tired.”
A moment later, the sound of wheelchair wheels rolling came from inside.
Squeak—.
The study door opened.
Kairon tried to hide beside the door, but he failed to move out of the way in time and came face-to-face with his brother.
“......!”
Karl, seated in his wheelchair, flinched and stopped.
His legs, covered by a blanket, had withered to sticks, and his pale face held no color.
But what hurt Kairon more than that was his brother’s eyes.
The shame of having his miserable state discovered by his younger brother.
And eyes filled with deep resignation and sorrow.
“...You’re here, Kairon.”
Karl called out with a strained smile.
But the corners of his mouth were trembling.
“Big Brother....”
Kairon could not say a word.
He could not bring up his exciting adventure at the border or talk about Varg.
Not in this cold atmosphere.
“...You look tired. Go inside and rest.”
“Yes. You too... get home safely.”
Karl rolled his wheelchair away as though fleeing, disappearing at the end of the corridor.
The back of his brother receding into the distance.
And the tightly closed door to his father’s study.
Kairon clenched his fist between them.
It was a scene utterly opposite to the dinner table at Eisengard, overflowing with warm firelight and laughter.
This was the Northgard Grand Ducal House, the heart of the northern Empire.
A place as cold as ice, where only suffocating silence filled the air.
Kairon lowered his head.
Just as the inferiority and anger in his eyes were about to flare.
‘It doesn’t matter… Anyway…’
They soon cooled into ice.
Because Varg’s image suddenly flashed through his mind.
Overwhelming strength.
And that broad back that had saved him all the same.
To the Kairon of the original story, Karl had been his sole object of admiration.
Gorgon, whom Eisen had praised until he was blue in the face, had certainly also been an object of admiration, but that was admiration for a fantasy.
Karl was the only living, breathing object of his admiration.
That was why the reality of his brother being ignored by their father—and later, after entering the academy, being looked down on by other nobles—had become a trigger that provoked and amplified Kairon’s own inferiority complex.
But now things were different.
He had met Varg.
He had gained a new, grander, freer object of admiration.
The weight of admiration that had been focused solely on his brother was now distributed.
Thanks to that, his anger toward his father could not mutate into a twisted inferiority complex.
‘Yes... What does it matter if I’m acknowledged by an old man like that?’
Cooling his overheated head, Kairon slowly unclenched his tightly balled fist.