RR 39

Chapter : 39

Peta asked as he got ready to head out.

“Who wants to come with me?”

Sean raised his hand.

“I’ll go.”

Ron glanced around nervously.

“Then what should I do?”

Tris answered him.

“Find the blacksmith, get the horses re-shod, and take care of them.”

Warhorses are extremely expensive—costly to buy and even more expensive to maintain. Without proper training, they lose their value as military mounts. A knight without a horse is unthinkable. That’s why a squire’s first duty is learning to care for horses.

Ron was the best when it came to horses. There wasn’t a single horse he couldn’t handle. Whenever new horses were brought into the Eike territory, Ron was the one who trained them. In his hands, even the wildest stallion became a loyal warhorse.

Ron answered brightly.

“Yes, sir.”

“All right, let’s move.”

A busy day followed. Tris headed toward Winter Garden from the village’s forked road. He wanted to read the ledger he hadn’t finished yesterday. As he walked, he noticed a familiar figure up ahead—limping, dark hair, hunched back. Jacob.

Jacob was carrying something in both hands toward Winter Garden. Tris quickened his pace to catch up.

“Hey, Jacob.”

Jacob turned, startled, and dropped everything he was carrying.

“S-s-sorry!”

“No, it’s fine. I must have surprised you.”

Jacob immediately bent down to pick up what he’d dropped. But his whole body trembled like a leaf in the wind, and he kept glancing nervously up at Tris. Tris narrowed his eyes.

Now he realized—Jacob wasn’t shy. He was terrified.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Jacob gathered the vegetables with shaking hands. They were precious—fresh vegetables like these only came from the monastery’s small garden. The king’s steward didn’t tax those. Until recently, the townsfolk shared whatever the monastery grew among themselves. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

But ever since Emblin arrived, the villagers agreed to give them all to her. So the abbot sent everything from the monastery garden to make sure she could eat fresh vegetables and meat. Dropping such a precious offering… of course Jacob feared punishment.

When he was younger, Jacob had tried to shield his father from a beating by the king’s agent—and got beaten too.

“What’s this? A hunchback? God has cursed you!”

His father was beaten to death. Jacob narrowly survived. Since that day, he feared anyone who wore a sword. Rank meant nothing—anyone more powerful than him was terrifying.

Tris had frightened him earlier too, but the abbot’s presence let him bear it. Alone like this, he trembled violently—so afraid that spit dribbled down his chin.

Tris asked quietly,

“Is it me you’re scared of?”

Jacob couldn’t answer. A single blow from those large hands could kill him. He didn’t want to die.

Hmm… Tris stepped back, giving him distance. Jacob still shook uncontrollably, eyes glued to Tris.

“Take your time. I’ll go ahead.”

Tris walked on. Jacob feared him—he didn’t know why, but there was no mistaking it.

At Winter Garden, Tris pushed open the heavy doors. A maid stepped out and spoke over her shoulder.

“Why are you coming in this way, Jacob? Use the back—oh!”

She bowed hastily when she saw Tris.

“My apologies, I thought you were the errand boy.”

“I saw him on the way. He dropped the vegetables when I startled him. It’ll take him a little while.”

“Yes, my lord.”

As she turned toward the kitchen, Tris asked,

“What’s your name?”

“Mine?”

The maid blinked.

“Kishi.”

“All right, Kishi. There’s one more maid, isn’t there?”

“Leah, sir. But she’s terribly shy…”

Tris smiled lightly.

“Kishi and Leah. I’ll be counting on you both.”

Kishi’s face flushed crimson. She had never seen such a handsome noble—and one who spoke kindly to her? She wouldn’t have dared imagine such a moment even in a dream.

As Tris walked toward his office, he asked,

“About Jacob.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“He seems frightened of me. Did something happen? Or did I just surprise him?”

Kishi couldn’t believe he was asking—was he actually concerned?

“When he was young…” she began quietly.

Tris frowned. He hadn’t known. But such tragedies were common. When taxes weren’t paid, brutal punishments followed. Every lord did the same. In Eike territory, any peasant unable to pay might be reduced to a serf.

“I see. Thank you.”

But things would be different now. This land had a lord again.

As Tris resumed walking, Kishi hurried after him.

“Should I prepare lunch?”

Ah. Right. They didn’t know the true relationship between him and Emblin, so they treated him like the lord of the estate. Tris glanced upstairs. Where did she go? The garden? She’d get angry if she saw him again. His lips twisted with annoyance. She ought to get used to him—he planned to come often.

Then suddenly he recalled her face that morning—not her angry scowl but that other one. Her pure, lovely expression…

Heat rushed downward in a pulse. Tris grimaced. Was he insane? He’d sworn to live like a monk, yet here he was acting like this.

“My lord?”

“Prepare it,” he muttered.

“Yes!”

Not just Emblin—he needed to get used to her too. Maybe then his… excitement would settle.

Kishi ran off to the kitchen, almost bouncing with joy. Tris chuckled and entered the office.

When Emblin returned from the garden, she froze at the table—two places set.

“What now?”

The maid replied,

“The lord has arrived.”

Lord? Before she could react, the office door opened and Tris strode out. Emblin’s eyes narrowed like blades of ice. Tris greeted her cheerfully.

“Have a nice walk? You must be cold.”

He reached out and rubbed her arm. Emblin shoved his hand away, eyes blazing. He had sworn not to touch her. This was nothing like his promise.

“You’re unbelievably shameless.”

“Oh? Then you’d best get used to it.”

Tris sat down smoothly, lifted the bread, inhaled deeply, and let out a satisfied sound.

“Smells wonderful.”

He sliced a piece and placed it gently on her plate.

“Let’s eat.”

She was stunned. What brazen nerve.

After dipping bread in stew, he called out loudly,

“Kishi!”

Kishi? Emblin didn’t even know the maids’ names. One came rushing from the kitchen.

“Yes, my lord?”

Emblin stared. The girl—Kishi?—looked almost glowing with happiness.

“Do you need something else?” she asked.

Tris held up the bread.

“This is excellent. I called you to praise it.”

Compared to the miserable bread at the inn that morning, this was divine. But then a question struck Emblin—why had the inn’s food been so poor when they surely knew who she was?

Kishi bowed deep.

“Thank you.”

“And the stew is wonderful as well.”

“I’ll tell Leah.”

It was the first compliment of her life. Her ears burned red. Emblin had never praised her—not once. Even though she baked with precious wheat, Emblin always left leftovers untouched. And she wasn’t allowed to take them home, no matter how hungry everyone was.

Suddenly—smack! Emblin slammed her palm on the table. Kishi jumped and fled back to the kitchen.

Tris snickered.

“Too loud for you? Sorry. I’ve always eaten boisterously with my younger brothers. I’ll try to behave if you dislike it.”

She had asked him to treat her like a sister and protect her. And now this… Still, he had apologized. What could she say?

She met his eyes coldly.

“Be careful.”

Another order. The arrogant princess again. Yet those eyes—astonishing. Turquoise, like Meril’s. King Ackers and Duke Kisling both had hazel eyes, after all.

His pride stung, so Tris ate quietly.

Emblin resumed eating—then paused. Something felt strange. She realized she had never in her life shared a meal with a stranger. She glanced at him. He tore bread with large hands, dipped it into stew, ate without a sound—chewed, swallowed cleanly. No crumbs, no clatter of cutlery. Yes, a noble indeed. Even the way he tore bread looked elegant.

She raised her head abruptly. Something was different today—the air, the weight of the room, even the atmosphere. Light, almost buoyant. Like spring. Maybe because spring was coming.

She looked at Tris again.

Or… because of him?

Hah. Foolish. Never expect anything from people.

In her heart, a shard of ice with razor edges sat buried deep. Hoping for anything only made it ache. Just like now.

She lowered her head, hiding her face.