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~Chapter 69~
‘No, it’s not.’
Riden thought maybe it was Samantha and Merrick’s doing again, but thankfully, there was no sign of anyone in the forest.
“Sir, what’s wrong? Is there something in the forest?”
Riden asked nervously, watching Ethan stare into the darkness.
“No, nothing.”
“Nothing? That’s a relief, but… don’t you think we’re too defenseless right now?”
“…?”
“Look over there.”
She pointed at the pitch-black forest.
“It’s so dark. We’re just a few knights and one woman. And we’ve got a big carriage that looks full of valuables. Wouldn’t it be strange if bandits weren’t secretly watching us right now? Don’t you think?”
Ethan glanced in the direction she pointed, then turned back with a faint smile.
“Sometimes I feel like you don’t know me at all.”
“What do you mean?”
He threw another branch into the fire and looked at her.
“That night—you came, even knowing what would happen to me. That tells me you know a bit about me. But at times like this, it feels like you know nothing.”
In other words, whether bandits came alone or in groups, nothing could threaten him.
“So if you’re tired, sleep. Don’t be scared. Like him.”
He nodded toward Stanley, then looked at the carriage. Inside was the bed prepared for Riden.
“But even if you’re strong, protecting someone while fighting is difficult, isn’t it? And I’m not sleepy yet.”
Riden mulled over Ethan’s earlier words—that she didn’t really know him.
It was true.
Even though she’d read about him in the original story, that was only a small part of who he truly was.
Nothing in the novel had mentioned that his subordinates could fall asleep so peacefully under his command.
As she thought, Ethan asked suddenly,
“Have you finished reading the estate management book? You said you’d summarize it.”
“I’ve read about half. Shall I go over it?”
“Mm.”
Leaning back against the loaded goods, Ethan slowly closed his eyes.
Riden’s voice filled the quiet.
“The book has four chapters. I’ve read up to chapter two—about securing economic advantages and strengthening military power.”
She gave a smooth summary of chapter one.
After summarizing, she added a simple plan for how to apply it to the MacCary county.
While the fire warmed her face, the night air behind her was cool.
Her voice slipped into that space—strangely comforting.
Ethan, feeling his body relax, listened with pleasure, then half-opened his eyes.
Riden was sitting on the blanket. Her cheeks were rosy from the fire, but she wore nothing over her shoulders. She looked cold.
‘She’s fragile as it is—she’ll catch a cold.’
Without thinking, he moved naturally.
She didn’t even notice, still busy summarizing the book, as he draped his jacket over her shoulders.
She blinked up at him wide-eyed.
“Cover yourself.”
“Thank you.”
After that, Riden chattered on like a child.
Though she’d never cared for the county before, she spoke of future plans with the excitement of a child receiving her first toy.
Under the dark sky, her sky-blue eyes sparkled like stars.
Watching her bright face, Ethan asked,
“But how do you know that a common painter has rare peonies in his garden?”
Heh.
Riden lifted her chin proudly, as if she had some great source of information.
“I’m interested in paintings. The count’s estate in the marketplace even has studios to support artists.”
In truth, it was the work of the count and his wife, but Riden intended to continue their legacy.
Honestly, she just wanted to invest early in someone who would later become famous.
She had checked the list of young painters without sponsors—and luckily…
The Duchess suddenly needed peonies.
Riden already knew the painter who grew them.
“I always kept an eye on young painters. That’s how I knew.”
“I see. But did you have to go personally? You could just send knights to pay and bring the flowers.”
“That would’ve worked. Onora is a poor painter. If we paid well, he’d sell. But I’m not going there just for flowers.”
His name was Onora. Later, he’d be called the Painter of Flowers.
Though he received noble sponsorship, he’d refused to compromise when patrons demanded portraits instead of the flowers he loved to paint.
He wanted only to paint what he loved, even if he never became famous.
In her previous life, he had lived and died that way.
Later, hundreds of his flower and garden paintings were discovered in his home.
As the “Painter of Flowers,” his little garden bloomed with rare and colorful flowers—including peonies.
“I want to sponsor him. I’ll bring him to the county and support him.”
Riden’s face glowed with excitement.
“Onora is crazy about flowers. If we give him a beautiful garden, he’ll create art nonstop.”
“….”
“I’ll fill the county like that—with painters I like, with people I like. Then one day, it’ll become a place loved by everyone—including me.”
Just imagining the future estate filled her heart.
How long would it take?
Five years? Ten?
By then, she might even have a family.
Even if not by marriage—if someone stayed by her side, that would be family enough.
“That’s the kind of face that makes me want to cheer you on.”
Embarrassed for talking too much about the distant future, Riden quickly changed the subject.
“Anyway, to answer your question—Onora won’t easily accept sponsorship. That’s why I have to go myself.”
“Why not? Without noble support, painters struggle.”
“He values something more than money. He’s stubborn.”
“Maybe you just offered too little?”
“No.”
Ethan shifted and said with a casual expression,
“Probably you just didn’t offer enough. Maybe he’s not good enough to earn a large sponsorship.”
“You don’t believe me at all. Want to bet? If I win, you grant me a wish.”
“…Fine.”
Riden downed the wine before her, meeting his gaze.
Her eyes said clearly: Don’t forget what you just promised.
The carriage stopped in front of Onora’s house.
Ethan took the first move in their bet.
He didn’t think he needed to go in person.
“Go.”
“Yes, I’ll be back shortly. Please wait comfortably.”
“Heh~”
Riden smiled meaningfully as Stanley headed to Onora’s house.
“Stanley will be rejected soon. I’d better get ready to go in myself.”
“You’re very confident.”
“Because I know I’m right.”
Meanwhile, behind the curtain, Onora’s wife Vera peeked out.
‘What’s this?’
It was a grand carriage rarely seen around here.
A young knight bowed toward it and walked toward her house.
Vera quickly fixed her messy hair and bowed.
“Welcome, sir. What brings you to our home?”
Stanley flashed his usual bright smile.
“Is the painter Onora here?”
“Yes, he’s my husband.”
“Good. I’m Stanley Squat, of the Kenwolf Knights.”
“Kenwolf…?”
She squinted uncertainly. Stanley quickly hinted,
“The knights who just returned victorious from the war…”
“Oh my! The Duke of Kenwolf’s knights!?”
“Yes. We’d like to commission Onora. May we come in and discuss?”
“Of course!”
The door opened wide.
Stanley turned back with a proud wink at Ethan and Riden.
Ethan eased his frown and said to Riden,
“See? Looks smooth enough.”
Riden, watching Stanley’s back as he entered, replied,
“We’ll see. I still think I’ll have to go in.”
“…Well…”
As Riden expected, Stanley returned rather quickly.
