An Indirect Kiss Over Stew
"Hurry up. Let's go grab some food."
A short sigh came from behind me at my urging.
I didn't need to turn around to picture her sour expression perfectly.
But her footsteps obediently trailed after mine anyway.
The path to the student cafeteria was far quieter than I'd expected, thanks to the red-haired knight captain walking right beside me.
Esilla's presence was overwhelming.
Every time she took a step, the students we passed parted like the sea before Moses, splitting to either side. Groups chatting in clusters fell silent as we went by. Even the furtive glances dropped to the floor under a single sharp look from her.
Apparently, the title of Imperial Guard Captain carried serious weight with the academy students.
"Walking with you sure makes things convenient."
"I'm merely preventing unnecessary disturbances."
Esilla replied dryly, eyes fixed straight ahead as she walked. The picture-perfect bodyguard.
Adrian—her real charge—must feel truly blessed to have a loyal retainer like this. Where else would you find such devotion?
We stepped straight into the spacious cafeteria. It was a bit past peak lunch hour, but plenty of students were still eating.
Of course, the moment we entered, the air inside froze solid.
They spotted Esilla's uniform and scattered in a hurry, leaving the serving line completely empty.
"No waiting around. Nice."
"...Hah."
Today's menu was tender chicken breast stew with fresh-baked bread. With practiced ease, I loaded up my tray: a generous helping of steaming stew, two chunks of crusty bread, a pile of salad, and some light fruit on the side. My tray heavy and full, I turned to Esilla.
"Aren't you getting anything?"
She quietly shook her head at my question.
In her hands, instead of a tray, was a single small teacup. A fragrant cup of black tea—god knows where she'd gotten it—that was all.
"That's it?"
"Yes."
No point pushing; she wasn't about to change her mind. I let it go.
We sat across from each other at a quiet corner table by the window.
"Dig in."
I scooped up a big spoonful of the steaming stew and shoved it in my mouth. The soft chicken melted on my tongue, the rich broth and spices blending perfectly.
Ah. Delicious.
I tore off a piece of bread, soaked it in the stew, and popped the soggy bite into my mouth, chewing as I looked up.
"You're really not eating?"
I checked her complexion and asked again. She had to be hungry after trailing me all morning.
"No need. Please eat your fill, my lady."
She replied elegantly, gripping the teacup handle just so.
But her eyes, over the rim of the cup, watched me eat intently. Like I'd become some fascinating spectacle.
I tried ignoring it at first, but her stare bored into me the whole time—through every spoonful, every chew, every sip. It was getting awkward.
"You're staring a hole through my face."
I grumbled mid-chew. Staring openly at someone eating was just rude.
Who knew I'd feel embarrassed over something like this.
"It won't pierce."
Esilla met my gaze without flinching, bold as ever.
"No, it feels like it will. Who could swallow properly with someone glaring like that?"
I set my spoon down with a clatter, complaining.
My appetite was tanking.
"Is it uncomfortable?"
"Obviously. How would you like it if someone sat there not eating and just staring you down?"
At my snap, Esilla set her teacup on the table.
"A bodyguard's duty is to never take eyes off the principal."
"What is this, a battlefield? You think someone's gonna assassinate me in the middle of the student cafeteria?"
"Danger can strike anywhere, anytime."
I let out a short sigh.
Better to give up trying to budge this inflexible knight captain's stubbornness.
Instead, my gaze drifted to the cup of black tea sitting untouched in front of her. Barely any steam left; it was going cold.
She'd played it off as coincidence, but she'd gotten it for me.
After a gesture like that, I wouldn't feel right without returning the favor a little.
"Esilla."
I tore off a soft inner piece of the fresh bread, just the right size.
Then I scooped up a heaping spoonful of steaming stew—chunks and thick broth—and gently placed the bread on top.
Moist bread and tender meat, looking utterly appetizing.
I thrust the spoon right up to her lips.
"...?"
Esilla's eyes wavered. She glanced between the spoon and my face, confusion plain on hers.
"Eat."
"What... are you doing?"
She leaned back slightly, brows furrowing.
But I didn't pull away—instead, I pushed it a bit closer to her lips.
"Drinking only tea on an empty stomach will ruin it. And you've been on your feet with me since breakfast."
"I'm fine—"
"Ah, just do it. My arm's getting tired."
I waggled the spoon shamelessly.
"My lady...!"
Esilla called my name in a flustered voice.
I could see cracks forming in her usual cool, rigid facade.
She glanced around furtively.
It was a corner table, but the sight of the academy's knight captain and a duke's daughter facing off, with me trying to feed her? Bizarre to anyone watching.
I felt distant students' eyes bulging from afar.
"There are eyes on us. Withdraw it now."
She whispered fiercely through gritted teeth, low enough not to carry.
Her pale face had flushed red all the way to her neck.
Shame or bewilderment—I couldn't tell which—painted her cheeks a pretty peach hue.
Seeing the ever-stoic woman so rattled? Honestly, kinda cute.
Was this why people enjoyed teasing others?
"If there are eyes, eat faster. You gonna keep this up?"
I didn't budge an inch, even jiggling the spoon a little.
"I won't lower it till you eat, so get on with it."
"Hah..."
Esilla sighed deeply.
She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them, glaring at me with resignation.
"I'll eat it myself. Give me the spoon—"
"Ah, just try it."
I brushed off her compromise, mimicking opening my mouth to prod her.
Her eyes held equal parts resentment and disbelief as she stared at me.
Who in the world had ever pulled this on a knight captain?
I could almost hear her thoughts; a laugh nearly bubbled up.
But in the end, she lost the stubbornness standoff.
Her firmly pressed red lips parted just a fraction, cautiously.
"Ah..."
She made a tiny sound, mouth opening.
I didn't miss the chance, sliding the spoon smoothly into her mouth.
Clink.
The spoon tapped lightly against her even teeth.
Esilla lowered her eyes, lips pursing delicately around it to take the stew.
Her red, glossy lips enveloping the spoon burned into my vision, like slow motion.
As I slowly withdrew, a bit of thin sauce clung between her lips.
Chew chew.
Her cheeks moved subtly.
Head bowed, she silently chewed and swallowed the stew and bread.
Her throat bobbed faintly—impeccable table manners.
"Good, right?"
I grinned mischievously and asked.
Instead of answering, Esilla pulled a white handkerchief from her pocket.
She dabbed lightly at the sauce on her lips, then turned her head to the window, avoiding my gaze.
"...Adequate."
Her delayed reply slipped from her lips.
"Adequate means delicious, yeah?"
"It doesn't compare to imperial cuisine, but for feeding students, the academy kitchen's standard is acceptable."
A long, stubbornly evasive answer to the end.
Just say it's tasty—her roundabout way was a talent in itself.
"Got it. Adequately delicious."
Satisfied at breaking her stubbornness, I scooped up more stew for myself.
Pause.
The spoon halted in midair, inches from my lips.
Wait a second.
I glanced down at the silver spoon in my hand.
The one that, moments ago, had been loaded with stew and bread.
And just a minute before—
Clink.
This spoon had slipped between Esilla's red lips, touched her teeth, passed through her mouth, and come back out.
I lifted my gaze slightly.
Esilla, pretending nonchalance out the window. The white handkerchief that wiped sauce from her lips. Her moist lips. And back to the spoon.
This is an indirect kiss.