The Knight Is Still Getting Stronger (2)
Paper rustled. Lee Han sat in the wooden pavilion he had built with his own hands and read the news.
Now and then he drank the lemonade Layla had made. Or else—
"Here. Eat."
"...I can feed myself."
"Eh?"
"...I'll just eat it."
He could not win against the pure, guileless light in her eyes, and so he let her feed him a lemon tart. Being fed by a woman was a luxury he had never once received in his life. He had to wonder whether a man like him had any business living this soft. Even so.
...It's good.
Was it only an illusion that it tasted better than any tart he had ever eaten?
"Would you like more?"
"Yeah..."
It was a temptation he could not refuse. Lee Han accepted another tart and indulged in a luxury that had arrived at entirely the wrong time, and still he did not take his eyes from the paper.
...The situation's turning interesting.
He had not meant to become one, but he was among the very few people closely tangled in the affairs of the kingdom. Because of that, he understood, for the most part, how its turmoil and its scandals had been set in motion.
To take one example, he turned the page.
"...Geumjjoki photographs well."
Today it was revealed that Aren Pendragon, captain of the Silver Lion First Knight Order, personally rode out to seize the prisoners who had escaped the Tunnels, mobilizing both the First and Second Knight Orders in full. He is being praised for a course of action as honorable and magnificent as befits royalty. Meanwhile, certain voices in the Noble Council have called it an abuse of authority, a reckless remark for which the Council has been unable to escape the people's censure. Seizing the opening, the Guild Council conveyed its uncomfortable displeasure to the Noble Council, and under these circumstances—
The prince's photograph occupied the entire front page. Using a captain's authority to move the First and Second Orders was certainly drawing no small amount of attention.
"Mm. He'll manage, won't he?"
Honestly, Lee Han had no faith in him. Once a wastrel, always a wastrel: that was his creed, and talk was something anyone could manage. What mattered was action, and results. In that sense—
If he produces results, I'll cut the scolding from twice down to once. That's all.
He let his expectations stop at a thin thread of hope.
Page after page, the paper offered news of people connected to him, or whose circumstances he more or less understood. The notable items, briefly:
The owner of the salon leading the Royal Capital's newest fashion — Lionel's young lord?!
Has the head of the mercenary confederation, the Mercenary King, chosen a successor?
Is the young lady of House Guinevere in love?!
Somehow, he knew every one of them by face.
And then—
Amid rampant speculation that the Magic Tower's successor and the sultan have come to meet Galahad's adopted daughter, the whereabouts of the very person drawing every eye remain utterly unknown, and attention has turned to what stance the royal house and Galahad will take. For reference, Irene Windler, the adopted daughter of Galahad now under such scrutiny, is still young, and yet she is already being watched as the saint of the magical world who may come to represent the age.
......All the way down to the chick from next door, enshrined as that saint of the magical world, sitting over there by herself and grumbling as she nibbled a tart.
"Tch. I could feed him too. I could feed him really well. I'm seriously confident I'd do it right..."
"......"
Hm. People of that stature were swarming in just to look at that girl?
He drew a sharp breath.
Do these bastards have nothing better to do?
The Magic Tower's heir, the sultan, and the rest were beginning to look to Lee Han like idle rich layabouts with too much money and no work. Pathetic beyond all bearing.
Was every day he came home a market day, or was it only that the house had stood empty for so long?
Something clattered.
"Master!"
Faces he had not seen in a long while arrived one after another, and Lee Han felt in his own skin that his house was growing loud.
A bell rang. The woman calling to him with all her strength rode a bicycle whose antique plainness would have been perfectly at home in an old French film. She was fresh, and somewhere wistful, and yet her innocence stood out so clearly that anyone walking the road would have turned for a second look and felt how lovely she was. She called to mind the first love of an entire school, and with the straw hat, the white dress, the sandals, and even the picnic basket that all suited her so well, she might have been a single frame from a pictorial that would draw a sigh from whoever saw it.
"...Looks like a photoshoot."
The possessed chick, seated flush against his side, seemed unable to help the same thought. She let it slip in a whisper, as if to herself.
Blue hair that brought hydrangeas to mind streamed out behind the rider, and it really did summon a scene from a film. Agreeing was one thing. What was absurd was another.
Does this girl even mean to hide who she is?
Watch her a moment, and she looked even less interested in concealing her identity than Taechang. He doubted that was only his imagination. Or perhaps she was simply honest to the point of foolishness, or merely clumsy at it.
...All three, maybe.
Lee Han was still shrugging when the woman, already at the front door, swung off the bicycle and came running with everything she had, like a loyal dog greeting a master she had not seen in far too long.
"Haa, haaa! H-have you been well, Master!"
"First, catch your breath, Bear-Girl."
"Yes? I-I'm fine, haa, haaa...!"
"...No matter how I look at you, you are not fine. So."
Bear-Girl—no, Levi—had almost certainly pedaled in a desperate rush all the way from the marquis's estate, the moment she heard he had returned.
"You rode a bicycle all the way here dressed like that?"
It must have been hard. He swallowed the rest and let the worry show, and she—
"Ah!"
Realizing that her present state was the full spectacle of a young lady—or something passing for one—she covered her mouth.
"I-I'm sorry. D-did I show you an unsightly sight? I-it's just, His Lordship gave me the day off today, and I was wondering what to do, and I thought I might go on a picnic by myself. I-I'm not used to sitting still..."
"That so."
"A-and these clothes aren't even something I prepared! Th-the maids got them ready, and I c-couldn't very well go without wearing them..."
"Right."
"...Master?"
"Right."
"...??"
"...Sorry. I'm getting old."
"Yes?"
"Hss. Menopause, is it...?"
Was age making the tears come easier? Listening to his disciple chatter, something welled up in Lee Han. He remembered a girl who, from their first meeting, had always been cowed, always worn her anxiety in the open, always thrashing to be acknowledged by someone else.
But now—
The kid's got room to breathe.
Life showed in her color before anything else. Her eyes were bright, and the clothes she wore were neat: proof she was being well looked after, and proof the marquis was keeping his word. It moved him. This was what it felt like to watch a swan who had not known how to use her wings realize that she had wings of her own, that she could beat them hard, and begin to rise. And from the place of the one who had worked so those wings could open—
The hardship was worth it.
......It was bound to overflow. Lee Han wept in his chest, glad of the change for the better in his disciple.
...It was summer.
An awkward air had lingered while he endured the surge, but soon Levi was chirping without rest, like a skylark, telling him everything that had happened. As if she were boasting of it.
"Lately I've been learning the bow from His Lordship. I've been given the Tristan name, even if only in form, so he said it would be best if I could handle a bow at least as a basic. I'm working hard to learn it, too."
"I-I'm grateful to have received the Tristan surname, but it isn't official yet. Probably within a few days, at a formal banquet, I'll be granted the name. ...M-might you come as my partner then, Master?"
"Ah! R-right. Please try this panini. I-I made it."
Lee Han listened to every word. Where he could advise, he advised. Where something would not do, he said so. Where thanks were owed, he answered thanks with thanks.
"And also...!"
She had so much she wanted to say that more than an hour passed with no sign of an end, but Lee Han was not annoyed. On the contrary, seeing her look that free was far better, and it only pleased him. If he had a much younger sister, he thought, this was the sort of fond pride he might feel.
He had been listening for a while when—
"U-um, Levi..."
"Hm? Lady Irene? Since when have you been here?"
"...So I wasn't even visible. They really do say nothing's more frightening than a thief who learns the trade late!"
"I-I'm sorry...! I-it wasn't that I meant to ignore Lady Irene, it j-just happened..."
"...Enough. It's not as if I don't know how you feel. You're right in the middle of the good part."
"......"
The sulking chick pecked peevishly at the simple Bear-Girl, and the simple Bear-Girl fidgeted and hung her head.
What was this?
Why are these kids having this fight with an old man sitting right here? Go find some handsome boys and do it there, you two.
Lee Han had not lived his years for nothing. He knew the two of them were showing him a goodwill in which romantic feeling, admiration, and several other emotions were mixed. But as he saw it, that was nothing more than a kind of playing with fire. The foolishness of still being young. Exactly that much, and once they matured a little, a day would come when this season shamed them, when they pulled long faces and wondered why they had ever liked an old man like him.
Hss. Handing down this kind of verdict on myself is a little bleak.
Even so, he did not change his mind. His gaze had clouded too far to look on the world as simply good. He had neither faith nor hope that the liking someone offered him would last forever, and the goodwill of those two looked to him only like a lotus that opened on a summer day and fell in a hurry. A hollow feeling that would one day dry up tight and vanish—
"—I think the knight will stay wonderful no matter how long it goes. And a wonderful man is always loved, however much time passes. In that sense, I think those two have an eye for a wonderful man."
"......"
"Hehe. I'm just saying."
"H-have you learned to read minds, by any chance?"
"No. Your face is just easy to read!"
"...And where did you hear that line."
The princess was like this, and the maid was like this. They claimed they had not learned mind-reading, but however he looked at it, they clearly had. Lee Han let out an empty laugh.
"Do you think my thoughts are too shallow?"
Since she had already caught him, he asked it outright, and Layla—
"Mm. More than that, I think you're undervaluing yourself, Sir Knight. You're wonderful enough as you are."
"......"
"I hope that someday you'll come to love yourself even more than you do now. You're someone who has every right to be proud of himself."
"...You always rate me too highly, Miss Maid."
"I'm only saying what's already there?"
"......"
"Hehe. You're embarrassed!"
"...Just give me more to drink."
"Yes!"
......Facing her smile, Lee Han lowered his head.
A sudden thought.
No matter how strong I get, I don't think I can beat this person....
Against a woman offering him an affection and a goodwill so clear they were almost dazzling, he felt by instinct that he would never win.
...And yet.
Losing doesn't seem like it would feel bad.
If what he wanted was to lose, was he the strange one? The man made a small resolve. Other people aside, in front of this person, he would not become a man he had to be ashamed of.
"—Feels like I picked the wrong day to visit."
"Y-you could say that."
The black-haired young man scratched his head, a rare thing for him. He had come to pay his respects, but apparently—
...I couldn't read the room.
The regressor lingered, awkward, before the fence. It was only a little later that the knight, who had noticed him long before, came to bring him in.