That's Why She's Obsessed #3
"Haaah...! This is so hard~."
Inside the wide command tent, Helena sprawled across a field cot and groaned. It was not the grandeur of a noble manor, but a practical space with everything one might need. Only a single day of the kingdom knights' five-night, six-day training schedule had passed, and already she looked thoroughly exhausted.
"You've worked hard."
As Helena's attendant, I had seen how the training ran. That did not mean I stuck to her side or stuck my face where it did not belong on the training grounds. I preferred not to draw unnecessary attention.
And no, I had not simply loafed about either. I had been busy preparing what we needed—starting with a relatively portable field cot and simple cooking tools. The cot, for the record, was nothing like a modern camping bed. You set up a frame and laid something like a mattress over it. I could hardly manage that alone. A little more growth and maybe—but as I was now, I was still unmistakably a child. So I had to team up with a few of the knights to get it done.
In return I made them a modest batch of sweets. Fortunately, they were delighted. It was a moment that made all the effort I had poured into cooking during my dull, peaceful days in the Divine Realm feel worthwhile. Hypnos had mostly eaten and slept without ceremony, so there had been little sense of reward back then.
"Zion, I really feel like I'm going to die..."
"Die? You did wonderfully today."
Helena beckoned me closer to the cot. The moment I came within reach she seized me in her arms and let out a pitiful little moan. Being treated like some unruly younger sibling left me with a strange feeling—though the soft, heavy pressure against my stomach was anything but childish. Sheer mass and softness, an overwhelming kind of violence.
Even so, I only set a hand on the crown of her head and comforted her with perfect calm, thanks to the grace of Steel Mental.
"Really...?"
"Yes. So you don't need to worry so much. And if you're still anxious, it's fine to cling like this. I've always told you it's better to let it out than bottle it up."
"Ziooon...! Zion, you're basically my mom!"
A girl vastly larger than me nuzzled her cheek against mine, milking the moment for every scrap of affection. Anyone who stumbled onto this scene of full-blown regression would rub their eyes raw wondering whether this woman could possibly be the Helena Krauser.
Fine. For this moment, I'm your mother.
"Yes, yes."
I knew her well enough to let it slide, but no one else would ever imagine Helena acting this spoiled—not even her own parents. For all her fragile nerves, she never let anyone at home see her soft side.
"Here. I baked cookies and made tea. I'll bring them over."
"Cookies...? In a tent like this?"
"Yes. I asked the supply officer for ingredients ahead of time. Excuse me a moment."
I carefully extracted myself from her arms, then brought tea and cookies on a tray from the little cooking station set up in the corner of the tent. Magical tools with real practical value were fairly common in this world, so portable burners not unlike modern camping stoves were not unheard of.
"Waaah...! Sweet. So sweet."
Helena took the tray, set it on her lap, and bit into one of the lightly baked cookies. Seasoned to her taste, they clearly hit the mark. The faintly bitter tea paired so well with the sweet cookies that both were gone in no time.
That alone was impressive—but what surprised me more was that she never lost her elegance while she ate. How could someone devour food that greedily and still not look vulgar? Was this what true noble breeding looked like?
"Thank you. That was really good."
"I'm glad, as the one who made them."
I cleaned up with a quiet little smile. Meals were issued as rations, so that was fine—but treating yourself to luxuries like this during outdoor training was no easy feat. It could even look like excess. Still, I had only scraped together leftover ingredients without inconveniencing anyone, so I figured it would be all right. We had settled everything inside Helena's private tent, after all. No one was watching.
"Um... I was thinking of going to sleep now. Is that all right?"
Once everything was put away, I asked while fighting back a yawn that rose unbidden. With a child's body, nightfall brought sleep whether I wanted it or not.
Helena nodded permission, though her face made her reluctance plain. She clearly wanted me to stay a little longer.
"I'll come wake you at the proper time tomorrow. And brush your teeth before you sleep."
Neither of us could truly rest with someone else in the same space, and servants needed rest as well. No attendant stayed awake at their master's side for twenty-four hours. That was only natural. When I promised to come wake her in the morning, her expression brightened considerably.
What is this, some monkey-and-chestnuts trick...?
At any rate, I left Helena's tent and headed for the quarters where the kitchen staff bunked together. Arrangements had already been made for me to sleep there, so there was nothing to be surprised about.
"Ah, Master Zion. Welcome."
As I stepped into the wide tent, the squad leader of the kitchen unit—also a soldier of the ducal house—greeted me warmly. Bart, if I remembered correctly. I had asked him to speak casually, but he refused on the grounds that I was a noble. Looking at it from his side, dropping formal speech with a noble was probably far more stressful. Better for me to treat him with equal courtesy and call it even.
"Ah, Mister Bart. Still awake?"
"Work's finished, but it's a bit early to sleep. More importantly—is the young lady all right?"
"Yes. She's in good health. No problems at all."
I sat down on the bedding prepared in a corner near the entrance and let out a breath. It was the bare ground underneath, but with blankets and heat-retaining materials layered beneath, it was surprisingly soft and warm. A stove-type magical item sat in the center, so I felt no cold at all. The same items had been installed in the other tents as well, but I found myself freshly aware of the ducal house's wealth. Everyday magical tools were things anyone with a certain amount of money could buy—and yet.
"Ahh... this is nice."
I felt a fresh wave of satisfaction at having chosen servant's clothes. If I had worn something like a tailcoat, the constant dressing and undressing would have been a headache.
"Right? Doesn't even feel like we're outdoors."
"It really... doesn't."
Lying still under the covers, sleep rolled over me at once. Warm air, a reasonably warm back, and a child's body on top of it all—resisting was nearly impossible.
Well then... no need to resist.
"Ugh... uuugh..."
Given that the knights rose around seven, it was probably about six now. I took a leisurely look around the already empty kitchen staff tent, stretched, and got up. Never had I been so grateful to have been born a noble. If I had been an ordinary kitchen hand, I would have been kneading dough and boiling soup since before dawn. Ugh. Just thinking about it made me nauseous...
"Thank you, Lord Hypnos."
I offered a brief prayer of thanks to Hypnos for letting me be born a noble, then left the tent with a change of clothes. I had only washed my face before bed the night before and felt filthy in various ways. Better to rinse off this morning before going to Helena.
Breathing the clear morning air felt like it cleared my chest and lightened my body. I could reinforce myself with mana, however clumsily, so the sensation was even stronger. Meals would be handled by the kitchen unit; my job was to wake Helena and help her get ready. Since this was not an actual war, there was room for a little leisure. Even in wartime one would manage a minimum of grooming—but not with this kind of ease.
"Brr. Cold."
Baring my skin to the chill morning air set my whole body shivering. Stepping into the stream that served as a makeshift shower only made it worse, so I drew up mana and drove the cold away as best I could. Physical reinforcement let me generate heat from within, which made it possible.
"Whoa... that goes all the way down my throat."
I got thirsty while washing and drank from the stream, and it felt like my windpipe froze solid. The sharp, almost scalding coolness was pleasant enough—but next time I would warm it a little first. Otherwise I might end up making those low, involuntary noises of appreciation again.
"Ugh...!"
I finished as quickly as I could, climbed out of the stream, and changed. Today, while Helena was training, I planned to use magical tools to do the laundry and decide what kind of snacks to make with the remaining ingredients. Cookies again, since they were easy? Or switch it up with something salty and simple—potato chips, maybe.
Chips would be easy enough that I could make enough to share with the knights, but turning field rations into snacks felt a little wrong. I felt a bit bad for the order either way.
"Or maybe I should help with the cooking and change up the menu itself...?"
The ingredients were fairly varied, so I could make all sorts of things. The trouble was balancing what worked for mass cooking and what did not. That was why soups—throw everything in a pot, cook a large batch, and still end up tasting decent—were so popular. In my opinion, soup was one of those menus where flavor and effort struck a near-perfect balance.
"So much to think about."
Having many options only widened the field of choice—and that was exactly when things got difficult. This was one of those times. I was still debating whether to work on the bread dough or the soup as I started to leave the stream—then I spotted two familiar figures on the far bank.
Cain Krauser and a man in ordinary clothes. I did not know the man's face, but he was probably some sort of odd-job hand. Cain's expression was foul as he berated the man, who could only keep his head bowed. I was too far to hear the words, but close enough to read their faces.
I had no idea what they were saying, but standing there gawking by the water was a good way to get noticed. Instinct took over. I carefully left the stream and slipped into the shade of a nearby tree, intending to watch as much of their behavior as I could even if I could not hear them.
But after that, Cain simply finished saying whatever he had to say and walked off into the forest shade. Nothing else. The man trembled with leftover fear, then returned to his post without further incident.
Maybe he ordered him to watch Helena and look for an opening.
It might have been my bias talking, but a man like Cain—who hated Helena and was rotten with aristocratic snobbery—was more than capable of it. Large-scale training like this offered plenty of chances to find a gap, so his eagerness made a certain kind of sense.
"What a waste of effort."
Even if he found an opening, it would never match the sheer trashiness of his own character. Deciding that whatever scheme he was cooking up was nothing to worry about, I set off at an easy pace toward Helena's tent.