MDCHC 53

chapter 53

I wondered if Sir Winchester’s somewhat flustered reaction was due to shyness. After all, it wasn’t a child—it was the whole family going to cheer—and maybe that could be embarrassing.

“Yes. I also packed some snacks. Ah, by the way, is it possible for the players to have snacks during the match? If they can, I’ll pack some for you as well, Sir Winchester.”

I smiled even more as I added that I had packed snacks.

“Players usually don’t eat during the match. It could make them appear weak or unprofessional.”

“Excuse me? Appear weak? You mean… they shouldn’t be seen eating?”

I thought it was a friendly sparring match, but was it going to be more intense than I expected?

“If they get hit hard in the abdomen or struck on the head incorrectly, they could vomit.”

“…….”

“And if vomit blocks the airway, it could be dangerous in many ways…”

“I-I see.”

I hurriedly answered, sensing that something even scarier might come next.

“So, it might be better if Daniel doesn’t come along. It wouldn’t be good for a child’s upbringing.”

“That makes sense.”

I had vaguely imagined the imperial gladiatorial games as some kind of sporting event, like watching baseball. That’s why I had prepared iced tea with a cheering spirit and planned to go cheer with Daniel.

But though it was a sport, it wasn’t baseball or soccer—it was more like boxing or mixed martial arts. Actually, it wasn’t just fists—they used swords, so it could be even more dangerous.

“Um…”

I cautiously spoke to Sir Winchester, looking up at him.

He was a Sword Master, the strongest in the Empire, and a formidable contender. So strong that the Emperor himself had no equal, and the games could seem trivial in comparison.

“Please don’t get hurt.”

But realizing that the games were rougher than I thought, fear gripped me.

“…….”

Sir Winchester silently looked down at me. Perhaps he thought I was worrying needlessly, or doubting his skills, or maybe overstepping by interfering.

No. That wasn’t the look in his eyes.

His gaze was slightly wavering, a mix of confusion, mild embarrassment, and…

“I will.”

Clutching the bottle of iced tea, Sir Winchester smiled.

The confusion and embarrassment vanished, replaced by a warm and gentle smile.

“Waaah! This is amazing!”

Thanks to the organizers—the Imperial Court—my seat was in the front center. It was a prime spot to see the matches. I wasn’t sure if all the competitors were knights, but I could clearly see them fighting with swords.

Fortunately, this was a friendly match, so they weren’t using real swords, but wooden ones. Yet the intensity was nearly the same as a real duel. Every time someone was stabbed with a wooden sword or fell to the ground, I squeezed my eyes shut.

‘It’s like a horror movie!’

Honestly, I was someone who couldn’t even watch horror films because they scared me—ghosts, blood, everything.

“Eek!”

When a man kicked his opponent in the abdomen while clashing wooden swords, I instinctively gasped and shut my eyes tight.

“Haa…”

When I peeked amidst the loud cheering, the man who had kicked was holding his sword to his fallen opponent’s neck with a triumphant expression.

“Haa…”

After the match ended, I let out a deep sigh. I had only watched a few matches, yet already felt drained. Since the matches were conducted in a tournament format, many more bouts were still to come unless something unexpected occurred.

“To think I almost brought Daniel… I must have been crazy.”

Thanks to Sir Winchester’s intervention, I hadn’t shown such a violent match to Daniel. Gentle and kind-hearted Daniel would surely have fainted if he saw this.

Even I nearly fainted.

“Finally, Sir Winchester!”

Startled from my daze, I straightened my back in my seat when someone called his name and quickly scanned the arena.

‘Sir Winchester!’

Easily recognizable in a red cape, the man standing proudly on the right side of the arena was him.

“Begin!”

The moment the referee raised his hand, I instinctively clasped my hands together and shut my eyes.

‘Please, just don’t get hurt!’

I knew Sir Winchester couldn’t lose, yet regardless of my thoughts, my hands were clasped in prayer, and my heart silently begged.

‘He doesn’t have to win, just don’t get hurt…’

“Red wins!”

…Huh?

The referee raised the hand of the player wearing the red armband.

I hadn’t even finished praying! It felt like only three seconds had passed.

“Waaah!”
“As expected of Sir Winchester!”
“What happened? I didn’t even see!”
“Ah, you should’ve watched with your eyes wide open!”

Same here—I hadn’t fully grasped what had happened, yet I rose from my seat.

I saw Sir Winchester lowering his sword from his opponent’s neck. As he turned to leave the arena, our eyes met.

He gave a slight wave to acknowledge me. I unconsciously loosened my clasped hands and raised one in return.

‘I don’t know what happened, but since he won, it must be fine.’

I hadn’t fully understood the situation, but the match was over, and Sir Winchester had won.

I couldn’t help but smile, waving enthusiastically at him.

I learned from the person next to me that players could usually be approached when not in a match, during breaks. Though the Imperial gladiatorial games offered large prizes and perks for winners, their purpose was to discover hidden talent and promote camaraderie, so there weren’t strict restrictions.

Upon hearing this, I immediately got up. I wasn’t interested in anyone else’s matches anyway.

“There you are!”

I found Sir Winchester in what seemed like a waiting area.

“The semifinals are coming up soon.”

I greeted him cheerfully. His matches were incredibly fast—most ended within five seconds, and the mid-rounds took about thirty seconds.

The previous match lasted a bit longer, around five minutes of swordplay before the outcome was decided. Naturally, Sir Winchester had won.

Some spectators grumbled that it ended too quickly, but I was simply relieved that Sir Winchester finished unscathed.

“Thank you for the drink.”

Sir Winchester handed me the empty container.

“Ah! You finished it all…”

Smiling, I took it, sensing something strange—it was completely empty.

‘Did he maybe rinse it out somewhere?’

No. The inner wall of the bottle still had bits of marigold petals and lemon pieces. It hadn’t been cleaned.

“Did you discard what was inside?”
“No, I drank it all.”
“Then what about the solids…?”

When I had prepared the drink—Marigold Lemon Honey Iced Tea, with its long name—I had included preserved lemon and marigold petals as decoration and to enhance the flavor. There weren’t many, but a few pieces were in there. Now, the container was empty.

“I… ate them all…”

It seemed Sir Winchester only now realized something unusual, and he trailed off at the end of his words. I also realized one thing:

Sir Winchester wasn’t saying he had “drunk” the iced tea, he was saying he had “eaten” it.

“Ah…”

I was too surprised to speak, only letting out a quiet exclamation.

“Ah…”

And Sir Winchester, realizing he might have done something unusual, looked at me and let out the same quiet exclamation.