Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Carrots and Confirmations
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Silence fell over the dining room once again.
Elbadin simply sipped his wine in silence, and Serdian, seated across from him, also continued his meal quietly.
Lucillea picked up her fork again as well.
‘At least it seems like Mei is off the hook.’
She had lost her appetite. Still, leaving such delicious food would be a sin.
‘And it's a bit awkward to ask them to pack up the leftovers.’
Anyway.
‘That Serdian fellow really hasn't said a single word.’
Despite the commotion, Serdian remained as serene as if watching a fire from across the river.
‘Of course, it's better than spewing thorns every time he opens his mouth like His Highness the Grand Duke, but…’
As the atmosphere in the dining room grew bleak again, Lucillea thought of Briola.
‘Grandma used to tell me all sorts of stories…’
The meals had been less extravagant than those at the grand ducal table, but her mealtimes with Briola were always filled with warm conversation.
What went into the stew, how to prepare it to make it more tender, which herbs to add to enrich the flavor.
Through Briola, Lucillea had learned that a meal was not just a time for consuming food.
‘At this rate, there's no way to tell if those two are on good terms or bad.’
Lucillea suddenly felt a sense of unease.
It seemed someone had to speak up to change the mood, and she realized that, no matter how she looked at it, that someone had to be her.
‘Sigh… Am I going to get myself in trouble again if I speak up?’
With an anxious gaze, she glanced between Elbadin and Serdian.
It was then.
As Lucillea was secretly watching Elbadin and Serdian, Serdian's plate came into her view.
‘Oh…’
After observing Serdian's plate for a moment, Lucillea conspicuously gathered the remaining carrots on her own plate.
Then, with a small gasp of, “Wow!” she asked Serdian.
“You eat carrots?!”
“…”
At that, Serdian's hand, holding his fork, flinched.
As Serdian shot her a look that said, *What nonsense are you spouting?*, Lucillea turned her head toward Elbadin and continued.
“Actually, carrots are my least favorite vegetable. My grandmother says they're sweet and delicious, but I can't stand their peculiar smell.”
Lucillea added that their presence was so strong, she even picked them out of stews packed with spices.
“So I naturally thought all kids my age would hate them. But Serd—”
Just then, Elbadin looked at the carrots on Lucillea's plate and said.
“If you keep being a picky eater, you'll be stuck at that height for the rest of your life.”
“…”
It was clearly a remark meant to tell her that picky eating was bad—the kind of affectionate advice adults often gave.
But.
‘How can he be so infuriating with every word he says?’
Gritting her teeth at Elbadin's curse-like words, Lucillea retorted.
“Thank you… for the advice.”
Undeterred, Lucillea turned back to Serdian.
And said with sparkling eyes.
“But you're amazing! You ate all your carrots without leaving a single one?!”
“…”
*Look at this, Your Highness! Your son even eats his carrots!*
As Lucillea exclaimed for all to see, a flicker of bewilderment crossed Serdian's face.
Only then did Elbadin look at Serdian's plate. As his father also stared intently at his plate, Serdian's eyes trembled slightly.
Serdian subtly covered his cleanly empty plate with the knife and fork in his hands and carefully spoke.
“I… don't really have anything I dislike.”
Elbadin gave a slight nod.
“A good attitude.”
At Elbadin's praise, Serdian lowered his head slightly. He seemed somewhat bashful.
Elbadin continued.
“To be honest, I don't like carrots either.”
*Huh?* Lucillea's eyes widened at the unexpected confession.
Serdian, too, seemed surprised and turned to look at Elbadin.
Elbadin looked down at his own empty plate and said calmly.
“When you're in this position, you come to think about how many people's hands a single plate of food passes through before it is complete. Because of that, I choose not to leave anything behind, even if it's something I don't like.”
Elbadin looked at Serdian and said.
“As the heir to the Grand Duchy, your mindset should be the same. You must learn to first consider the toil and devotion of our people.”
At that, Serdian replied with a much more serious expression.
“Yes. I will keep that in mind, Your Highness.”
After that, Elbadin and Serdian exchanged conversation about the state of the domain.
Once the ice was broken, their conversation flowed better than expected.
Although Serdian was only thirteen, the quality of his answers to Elbadin's questions was surprisingly clear.
The observational skill to pinpoint the essence of a problem despite his blunt tone, and the logic embedded in his explanations, were certainly not that of a thirteen-year-old.
Lucillea was inwardly surprised.
‘Is this the dignity of a protagonist?’
*Isn't that kid on his second life or something?*
‘Right, whether it's the protagonist's dignity, being born a genius, or really his second life.’
I just hope things stay exactly like they are today, no more, no less.
Today, Elbadin learned that Serdian had grown up well, not being a picky eater.
It was the same for Serdian. He learned that his adoptive father disliked carrots.
It was a short time, and an utterly trivial conversation, if one could even call it that.
Nevertheless, the two of them had learned one new thing about each other.
‘And I learned that my biological father is incredibly infuriating when he speaks.’
Still, he was a little cool when he explained why he cleaned his plate.
In any case, if conversations like today's—albeit somewhat business-like—were to stack up, the coldness that filled the space between them would inevitably be pushed away.
‘Yes, this is enough for today.’
Unconsciously, Lucillea watched the two of them with a satisfied gaze.
***
-“You, follow me to my office.”
-“You, follow me to my office.”
-“You, follow me to my office.”
After the meal, Elbadin took Lucillea to his office.
A faint chill hung in the office air.
The fireplace was lit, but it was cold for some reason.
It didn't seem to be a mere matter of temperature. Perhaps it was because the place was thoroughly imbued with Elbadin's cold and solemn nature.
There wasn't a single unnecessary decoration in the office; every piece of furniture and every object was placed with strict order and tidiness.
A tall bookshelf filling one wall was packed with books whose titles alone were esoteric, and on another wall, the swords Elbadin favored were neatly displayed on a rack.
An atmosphere that seemed to tolerate not even the slightest mistake.
Even without being told whose office it was, one could tell; the room itself embodied Elbadin's aura.
“Sit there.”
“Yes.”
Lucillea walked over to the sofa Elbadin had indicated with a gesture and sat down gently.
Elbadin took off his coat and handed it to his aide, Riat, who had followed him in.
“The documents?”
“They have been prepared.”
At Riat's answer, Elbadin nodded, walked to his desk, and picked up the papers lying on it.
For a brief moment, the office fell silent as he examined the documents.
Meanwhile, Lucillea was turning her head this way and that, looking around Elbadin's office.
Then her eyes met with the aide, Riat, and with a small inward gasp, she turned her head away.
‘That man is still scary.’
To avoid meeting Riat's eyes again, Lucillea cast her gaze in the opposite direction.
Just then, Elbadin, having briefly checked the documents, took them and walked over to the sofa, sitting down across from Lucillea.
“It was just as you said.”
“…Yes? What was?”
When Lucillea asked, Elbadin said.
“The village chief confessed. The fact that he intentionally excluded you from the list.”
*Ah, that.*
-“If you check, you'll see, but my name probably wasn't even on the list. I wasn't recognized as one of the villagers.”
-“If you check, you'll see, but my name probably wasn't even on the list. I wasn't recognized as one of the villagers.”
-“If you check, you'll see, but my name probably wasn't even on the list. I wasn't recognized as one of the villagers.”
It was what Lucillea had told Elbadin while proclaiming her innocence.
‘That's right. He said he sent someone to Mille Village.’
Elbadin continued.
“Once the village chief started talking, the others followed suit, and thanks to that, it was confirmed that most of the stories you told in the carriage were true.”
*Most?* Lucillea asked with wide eyes.
“Most? Not all of it?”
*Did I lie about something?* As Lucillea tilted her head in confusion, Elbadin said nonchalantly.
“Your age.”
*Hup!* Lucillea sharply drew in her breath.