Chapter 20
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Basic Etiquette Lessons
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The garden of the Eisengard Manor.
Beneath the warm sunlight, a peaceful tea time was in full swing.
"Oh my, Lady Kara. The angle at which you're holding that teacup... it's straight out of the imperial etiquette manual! How did you master it so quickly?"
The head maid clapped in admiration.
Kara, seated at the table, gracefully set down her teacup and flashed a bright smile.
"Really? I'm just doing it comfortably."
"Your posture is so natural. You have far more elegance than most noble ladies."
Amid the servants' shower of praise, Kara shyly wrinkled her nose.
The servants, who had initially been wary of her, were now completely charmed by her straightforward and affable personality, treating her like a big sister or little sister.
I watched the scene from afar, sticking out my tongue in disbelief.
'That's what you call comfortable?'
I'd practiced until I was dead on my feet, and my hands still shook.
I was terrified of breaking the handle.
When I asked her about it later, Kara's answer was simple.
『It's similar to swordsmanship. Relax your shoulders, adjust your wrist angle, control your breathing. What's the difference?』
She'd applied the delicate touch for handling a sword to handling a teacup.
'That's like saying hitting a ball with a club is the same thing...'
I swallowed my bitterness and turned away.
An even greater ordeal awaited me.
Afternoon.
The manor's kitchen was in an uproar.
"L-Lady Kara! You can't do that!"
The head chef panicked and tried to stop her.
It was because of the armful of weeds Kara had gathered from the corner of the garden.
"That's bracken fern! It's poisonous and causes stomachaches if eaten! The Baron would faint if he saw it!"
In the empire, it was treated as a toxic weed and uprooted.
Eisen had brought some back from a past diplomatic mission, claiming it was edible, and planted it in the garden, but no one knew how to prepare it, so it was left alone.
But Kara paid no mind and rolled up her sleeves.
"Nah, it's not a poison plant. If you prepare it right, it's delicious."
In Norheim's harsh winters, where food was scarce, the tribespeople had learned the wisdom of turning even toxic plants into sustenance.
With practiced skill, Kara set a pot of water on the stove.
"Blanch it in saltwater to remove the toxins, then soak in flour water to cut the bitterness. I'll show you."
She took command of the kitchen and began cooking.
The initially anxious chefs were soon captivated by her expert knife work and methods, falling in line to assist.
And soon after.
Bubble bubble.
"Oh...?"
A bittersweet yet nutty aroma filled the kitchen.
The foul smell unique to toxic plants had vanished, replaced by the deep, mouthwatering scent of wild mountain greens.
"The smell... it's so savory."
"Right? In our tribe, it's a delicacy no one can resist. It's even better stir-fried. We use deer fat."
Kara nodded in satisfaction after tasting for seasoning.
"The Baron will love it. Probably."
At the same time, in the manor's dining room.
I sat across from the Eisen Baron, breaking into a cold sweat.
After graduating from quill pen hell, now it was silverware hell.
"Barg, when cutting steak, you don't saw it down with force."
The Eisen Baron corrected me sternly.
"Slide along the grain of the meat gently... yes, like playing the cello."
"C-Cello...?"
It was too advanced a metaphor for me, the tribe's drummer.
I moved the knife in my hand as if it were Excalibur itself.
Screech...
Fortunately, no disasters like shattering the plate or mashing the meat occurred.
'No matter how I think about it, that quill was just too fragile.'
"Phew... success?"
"Excellent. You've improved greatly in controlling your strength."
The Eisen Baron adjusted his glasses, looking pleased.
"Now, try the soup. Without making noise, from inside to outside."
I moved the spoon like a robot.
This wasn't mealtime; it was torture time.
Lifting my drunken father Gorgon would have been easier.
After an hour that felt like eternity, the etiquette lesson ended, and the Eisen Baron stepped out briefly.
"Haa..."
I finally leaned back against the chair and relaxed.
Even for a simple meal, every muscle in my body felt like screaming.
Especially the handwriting practice.
Because of that fragile quill, I'd fallen way behind Kara, and the tension had seeped into my body.
Idly, I looked down at the silver spoon in my hand.
"...Huh?"
My eyes widened.
The neck of the spoon was bent like taffy and twisted like a corkscrew.
It had been fine during the lesson.
'Ah.'
The moment class ended and I relaxed in relief, my grip had unconsciously tightened.
"Why'd this happen? I relaxed my strength."
I'd been more careful than with the quill, yet here we were.
If I couldn't control this strength, I'd be paying for spoons every day at the academy cafeteria.
'This is bad. If Ronas hits me with a club over this...'
As I stared gravely at the twisted spoon,
Screech.
The dining room door opened, and someone staggered in.
It was Ronas.
"Water... some water..."
With hollow eyes, he took the cup from the servant.
Its contents were a thick, dark green liquid.
A special vegetable juice said to be good for fatigue recovery.
To survive, Ronas downed the nauseating green stuff in one go.
Gulp, gulp.
He caught his breath and glanced sideways at me absentmindedly.
"......?!"
His gaze locked onto what I held.
The artistically twisted silver spoon.
Ronas's pupils shook as if there was an earthquake.
'I gave that guy utensils to eat with, and he's turning them into modern art. Is he a monster?'
It was clearly a eating tool, but in this man's hands, it had become a weapon.
Ronas flinched and backed away.
It was the exact same startled look as my father when seeing a barbarian.
Our eyes met, and he silently set the empty glass on the table before fleeing.
"...Hey? I think you misunderstood."
My excuse vanished behind the closed door.
Dinner time.
In the center of the table sat Kara's bracken fern side dish.
Amid the lavish imperial dishes, it stood out with its rustic, humble appearance.
But its aroma was undeniably powerful.
The Eisen Baron picked up his fork with a puzzled expression.
"This is..."
"I made it. They say it's not eaten in the empire, but I guarantee the taste."
Kara urged him with sparkling eyes.
With trembling hands, the Baron took a bite.
Chew chew.
Suddenly, his eyes widened.
"Th-This...!"
The Baron's fork stopped.
His gaze drifted into space before slowly returning to the plate.
A wistful moisture filled his eyes.
"...It's the taste Gorgon and I ate until we were sick of it during the diplomatic mission."
"You know it?"
"How could I not? Twenty years ago, that brutal winter, cut off from supplies and isolated... Baba the Elder brought back the only food we had—this."
A bittersweet yet nostalgic smile spread across the Baron's lips.
"We were in tough straits, so we fought over this one dish, mixing it with plain water like booze to endure. Bitter, tough... but it filled our bellies. A grateful friend."
He savored it again, lost in memories.
Then, he tilted his head curiously.
"But it's strange. A few days ago, when I visited your tribe to fetch you two, this wasn't on the table. Prime meats, rare fruits... the table was overflowing."
The Baron seemed inwardly disappointed.
"I'd been craving that taste. Looks like Gorgon forgot his old friend's palate."
Kara smiled brightly at that.
"No. Father didn't want to serve it to you."
"...Didn't want to?"
"How could he serve an old friend he hadn't seen in ages something he forced down just to avoid starvation?"
Kara said matter-of-factly.
"Father's got his pride. Even if he starved, he wanted only the best meats and liquors on the table for his friend and honored guest—you."
"......!"
The Eisen Baron's eyes shook.
"That's why he's been hounding the hunters for the finest deer these past days. 'Don't even look at this fern,' he said."
"Ah..."
The Eisen Baron was speechless.
A heavy weight settled in his chest.
'So that's what it was. Gorgon, you fool of a friend.'
He'd only missed the taste of old memories.
But to Gorgon, it was a reminder of poverty and suffering—a blemish he didn't want to show his successful returned friend.
'What I missed wasn't the lavish feast, but that bittersweet root we chewed together in the blizzard.'
Gorgon's crude yet profound consideration: hiding his impoverished past to give his friend the best welcome.
The Baron's throat tightened.
He removed his glasses, wiped his eyes, and picked up his fork again.
"...Delicious. Truly delicious, Miss Kara."
"Glad to hear it. Eat plenty."
"Yes. I can't leave such a treasure."
That day, the Eisen Baron left the fancy steak untouched and polished off the humble fern plate.
The Eisengard table was humble but warm.
The retired old gentleman, his household, and the barbarian couple sat around, sharing simple conversations and laughter.
But at the same time, in another part of the empire's north, the atmosphere was the polar opposite.
Northguard Grand Duchy main castle.
A place of imposing great walls and sharp spires.
A boy walked the darkened castle corridors.
It was Kairun.
Having just returned from border inspection, the boy's steps were lighter than usual.
He hadn't even changed clothes yet.
His dust-covered coat flapping, he headed deep into the annex.
It was the residence of the grand duke's eldest son and Kairun's brother, Karl von Northguard.
'I have to tell Brother first.'
Childlike excitement lit Kairun's face.
The events at the border.
The close call with the carriage accident and being saved by a barbarian named Barg.
Above all, he wanted to boast about witnessing the true nature of the strength he'd admired his whole life.
His brother was the only one who would listen seriously and empathize.
To Kairun, Karl was brother, mentor, and a sore spot.
A tragic genius paralyzed from the waist down by a childhood accident.
But he never gave up.
After grueling rehab, he'd recovered enough to walk with a cane, and his swordsmanship theory awed even the knight commander.
But.
'If not for that damn illness...'
A year ago, an inexplicable disease struck, wasting the muscles he'd built, and Karl was back in a wheelchair.
Yet his brother didn't break.
He even supported Kairun quietly from behind, worrying for his younger sibling.
'Brother's only body is frail; he's far superior to me... Why won't Father acknowledge him?'
Kairun swallowed his bitterness and knocked on the annex office door.
Knock knock.
"Brother? It's Kairun. May I come in?"
No answer.
Kairun cautiously opened the door, but the office was empty.
"Looking for the young master?"
A passing servant bowed.
"Yeah. Where's Brother? It's not bedtime yet."
"Well... he went to the main building to report to His Grace the Grand Duke."
"To Father?"
Kairun tilted his head.
Regular reports were usually handled by servants or aides.
For his frail brother to go personally, and so late?
'Something important?'
Intrigued, Kairun turned toward the main building and the Grand Duke's office.
Before the Grand Duke's office.
Guard knights stood watch, but they didn't block the young lord Kairun.
As he reached for the handle,
A chilling voice leaked from within, like seeping cold air.
"Karl. Didn't I tell you not to come?"
It was his father, the Northguard Grand Duke.
Emotionless, clerical, icy tone.
"Why drag those inconvenient legs here yourself? An aide could have sent the report."
"I... thought it proper to report to you directly, Father... as always..."
Karl's voice was timid.
Trembling like a criminal pleading for mercy.
"And... I have something to say about this border defense budget..."
"Enough."
The Grand Duke cut him off.
Flip.
Only the sound of turning pages filled the silence.
"I'll review the budget you drafted. Since it's your work, a review is all it needs. No need to explain in front of me."
"......"
"It's unsightly. Go back."
"......!"
Kairun's fist clenched tightly outside the door.
Unsightly.
Words for his own son, and a sick one at that?
But the Grand Duke's barbs didn't stop.
"And don't come for reports anymore. The sound of your wheelchair is bothersome."
"......I'm sorry, Father."
"Go. I'm tired."
Moments later, wheelchair wheels rolled.
Screech-.
The office door opened.
Kairun, hiding by the door, couldn't dodge and faced his brother.
"......!"
Karl in his wheelchair flinched to a stop.
His blanket-covered legs were gaunt, his pale face bloodless.
But what hurt Kairun more was his brother's eyes.
Shame at being seen pathetic by his sibling.
And eyes mixed with deep resignation and sorrow.
"...You're here, Kairun."
Karl forced a smile.
But his lips quivered.
"Brother..."
Kairun was speechless.
No tales of exciting border adventures, no talk of Barg.
Not in this frigid air.
"...You look tired. Go rest."
"Yes. You too... be careful going back."
Karl wheeled away like fleeing, vanishing down the hall.
His brother's receding back.
The firmly shut father's office door.
Kairun clenched his fist between them.
A scene in stark contrast to Eisengard's dinner table, overflowing with warm firelight and laughter.
This was the heart of the empire's north: the Northguard Grand Duke's house.
Ice-cold, suffocating silence reigning.
Kairun bowed his head.
As inferiority and rage flared in his eyes,
'Whatever... it's not like...'
They cooled swiftly.
An image of Barg flashed in his mind.
Overwhelming strength.
Yet the broad back that saved him.
In the original story, Karl was Kairun's sole object of admiration.
Gorgon, whom Eisen praised endlessly, was fantasy admiration.
The living one was only Karl.
Thus, his brother being ignored by their father fueled Kairun's inferiority after academy enrollment, amplified by other nobles' scorn.
But now was different.
He'd met Barg.
A new, greater, freer object of admiration.
The weight once solely on his brother was dispersed.
Preventing his rage at his father from twisting into warped inferiority.
'Yeah... who cares about approval from an old man like that.'
Kairun cooled his heated head and slowly unclenched his fist.