Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 11
Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 11
‘Why is he here?’
Lion was genuinely taken aback. Meeting Rickshel in Mimir Forest, of all places—he hadn’t dreamed of it.
‘Did he come to see me?’
Why?
Sure, Lion and Rickshel were brothers, but they weren’t the type to go looking for each other without a reason, or spend time playing and joking around.
If anything…
‘Strictly speaking, I’d say… indifference?’
He searched through Lion’s memories.
Whether Lion was suffering from mana shock or being dismissed as an eccentric, Rickshel had always maintained a detached attitude, an uninvolved distance.
Whenever they happened to meet, he did pay him the respect due an older brother—but that was it.
‘Well, “Lion” just accepted it.’
The old Lion had been gravely frail.
He had rushed about everywhere trying to fix a body that couldn’t sense mana, and outside of those times, he had been nearly always bedridden. He’d had no time to grow close to his younger brother.
In short, you could say they were brothers who’d never had the time to get to know each other.
While Lion coolly organized his thoughts like that—
Rickshel, whose eyes had met Lion’s, felt his whole body freeze.
‘How am I supposed to explain this?’
More precisely, his question was closer to: how do I explain so my brother doesn’t misunderstand?
Rickshel knew full well that he and his brother weren’t exactly close.
A brother born into a renowned magical house but without the core talent for mana that was considered essential.
And himself—he was ashamed to say it aloud, but he’d been born with innate talent and was already being spoken of as the certain successor to the family.
A gulf was bound to open between the two of them.
That didn’t mean he looked down on his brother or disliked him.
He thought it was admirable the way his brother kept trying anything and everything, refusing to give up, to somehow turn a hopeless situation around.
‘It was only a shame that the result was failure every time.’
If it were up to him, he would even have wanted to roll up his sleeves and help personally, but he was, after all, Lion’s younger brother.
If the one lower in rank stepped forward first, there was a high chance of damaging even this relationship, so he had stayed quiet—until Grandma Sylvia had finally opened a crack in the door and allowed him to come all the way here.
And yet!
‘Even so, there must be limits—trying to eat something like that…’
Rickshel stared at the stems thrusting out all askew, the hollowed-out dirt, and whatever was inside it—he guessed it was some kind of famine-relief crop.
“…First of all, I apologize for using magic, Brother. But even so, you mustn’t eat something with dirt still on it.”
“Mm, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding? Do you even know what that is, that you’d eat it?”
“…It’s a sweet potato. Isn’t it?”
“A sweet potato… You mean a starchy root vegetable?”
That’s—well, yes?
‘But that’s the first time anyone’s ever asked that way, so I don’t even know what to say.’
Lion wasn’t usually the one left speechless, but Rickshel had managed it.
Lion glanced over at the sweet potato smushed on the ground.
To be honest, the skin was a little peculiar, but didn’t it look like a sweet potato to anybody who saw it?
A sweet potato.
It was honestly a staggeringly versatile ingredient, wasn’t it?
You could just cook it and eat it, you could make it into a soft mousse for a salad, or turn it into a cake.
You could even brew liquor with the stuff.
Wasn’t it something you judged as food first, rather than as a plant?
‘Now that I think about it.’
He cast his mind back over Lion’s memories… and while a meticulously prepared dish might be a different story, he had never once just roasted a sweet potato and eaten it straight.
Which meant—don’t tell me…
“Rickshel… don’t tell me you’ve never tried it?”
Something this delicious?
“Pardon…?”
Rickshel’s expression shifted oddly.
His look practically said, ‘Why would I have eaten that?’
Not the aristocrat’s disdain of ‘why would a noble eat such a thing,’ but a genuinely baffled face that said, ‘Why? What even is that?’
‘Whoa, this won’t do.’
Lion changed his mind on the spot.
Even if they were not especially close, going through life without knowing how wonderfully sweet roasted sweet potatoes tasted was a genuine loss.
“First, don’t just stand there—come here and sit down.”
“Is it all right if I stay with you?”
“Of course.”
Lion pointed at the tree root where he’d taken off his outer coat.
“Sit here and wait.”
“Thank you.”
The moment he confirmed Rickshel was seated and waiting, Lion turned and started digging into the earth with his hand hoe again.
“Why in the world are you digging up sweet potatoes?”
“Just wait a bit.”
As Lion’s hoe churned through the soil, the moist inner soil came up and piled on the outside.
At first it had looked like he was playing house, but watching now, he saw there was a kind of rule to it.
Dig the earth, then gently, carefully pull out the sweet potatoes inside so they don’t get nicked.
Especially when a big one emerged, a deep smile flickered at the corner of his mouth, as if he were feeling a peculiar sort of pleasure.
“Ah, Rickshel—if you can use fire magic, could you make a small campfire? I’ve got the firewood ready.”
“…Understood.”
Lighting the firewood wasn’t a difficult request. Rickshel used Fire Magic on the wood and set a small flame.
Soon the fire whooshed up, burning at a respectably vigorous pace, and with his task now done, Rickshel had no choice but to go back to observing Lion.
‘Could it be that playing in the dirt like that is enjoyable for him?’
Honestly, he couldn’t fathom why his brother was doing any of this.
And besides—farm tool or not, wasn’t it still a bladed implement?
One wrong move and he would clearly gash himself badly.
His brother even had a slightly careless streak, didn’t he? Yes, once it proved to be nothing special, he should tell him to stop.
…That was what Rickshel thought, right up until the moment—
“All done.”
Lion, having dug up an armful of sweet potatoes, roughly knocked the dirt off them and tossed them straight into the campfire.
“…”
“There we go. Let’s wait until they’re cooked.”
“But won’t they just burn if you leave them in there like that?”
“It’s fine. The skin is thick, so the inside cooks nicely.”
“I see.”
With next to no knowledge about sweet potatoes, Rickshel meekly accepted that explanation.
In truth, he had many questions, but he stayed quiet because most things would become clear once a little time had passed anyway.
Pop. Crackle.
And so, Rickshel sat still and watched the sweet potatoes swallowed up by the campfire.
They hadn’t exchanged any particular conversation since the sweet potatoes went in, yet oddly, the silence didn’t feel awkward.
Maybe it was because the sound of the campfire was filling in for the empty conversation.
Or maybe it was because his attention had been stolen by the fire’s constant, restless shifting—never the same from one moment to the next.
He looked over at Lion and saw him also staring vacantly at the campfire, as if in a daze.
That was when Lion’s lips slowly parted from his blank expression.
“Running hard is all well and good, but resting matters just as much.”
“…”
Rickshel tilted his head.
He couldn’t make out whether his brother meant something in particular or not.
Suddenly bringing up the importance of rest, of all things.
‘Did I seem worn out?’
Worn out—if anyone was, it would have been the family head, or his ailing brother.
Why would he himself be worn out, when his limbs were perfectly sound and all he did was study?
Lion opened his mouth again.
“I’ve found that doing something different from your usual routine now and then helps a lot to clear your head.”
“Hmm…”
Rickshel sat in front of the campfire and silently watched the flames.
It was true—sitting still doing nothing, pointlessly staring into a campfire, was a very long way from his usual routine.
Even so, the warmth of the firelight on his face was, to be honest, quite pleasant.
“I think I may understand what you mean.”
“It’s one of those things that’s hard to actually practice, too.”
He probably meant that when you rest, you shouldn’t let your mind dwell on work.
‘He’s worried about me.’
He didn’t feel at all bad about it.
As they sat there wordlessly watching the fire, time passed, and a pleasant, slightly charred scent began rising from the sweet potatoes.
“About this long—they should be done by now.”
Lion used a branch to pull out the banana sweet potatoes, let them cool, and placed one on Rickshel’s hand.
“Here.”
“Thank you.”
In truth, he hadn’t wanted to accept something that had been on the ground with his bare hands, but he accepted out of consideration for his brother’s feelings—
‘Hm?’
The state of it was better than he’d expected.
The sweet potato was a little hot, but it wasn’t dirty or covered in dust.
It was almost glossy, as if it had been washed clean and then roasted.
“Okay, so you peel it like this.”
And when Lion peeled back the banana sweet potato’s skin and revealed the inside, that same sweet, soft fragrance from before spread out, and an appetite-stirring sweetness tickled his nose.
…Honestly, his appetite had come rushing in with a jolt.
Even so, eating it still felt a bit awkward.
Just as he thought that, Lion took the first bite!
“Mm. Delicious.”
The steaming, wisping insides looked flaky and tender, plain as day.
Watching someone eat right next to him made it look surprisingly appetizing.
A kind of I’m-missing-out-if-I-don’t-eat-this-now feeling.
“I’ll try some as well.”
Before he knew it, Rickshel had carefully chewed and swallowed a bite.
The proper course would have been to check first whether it contained any components harmful to the human body, then entrust it to a chef and eat with fork and knife at the dining table—but.
“…!”
The sweet potato that had entered his mouth tasted extraordinary.
It was as soft and sweet as cake, but without cake’s excessive sweetness.
At the same time, a strange sense of liberation came over him.
One preconception crumbled, and because of that, he even felt a sense of freedom.
Rickshel had lived a strictly regimented life.
Because he had been the one who had to take the heir lessons in Lion’s place.
And so there had been no particularly joyful events, nor especially sad ones.
Even when he was told that Grandma Sylvia, who’d been with him since childhood, would be leaving, his reaction had stopped at a level of regret.
His innate disposition also leaned toward the impassive, as a mage’s did.
But right now was a little…
He might even be enjoying himself.
‘Was this the kind of life you wanted to live, Brother?’
He knew that his brother had worked harder than anyone just to stay alive.
No matter how much people called him an eccentric, the family knew down to their bones how hard Lion had struggled.
That was why the taste felt all the sweeter and richer.
The flavor of life.
His brother had wanted to teach him this.
“…It’s delicious.”
“Good, isn’t it? It’s called a banana sweet potato.”
Lion grinned at Rickshel’s reaction.
I knew it—I figured he’d eat it.
‘No wonder he’s impressed.’
Because in this weather, sweet potatoes are perfect.
The comparatively mild Asteri Territory had no winter, but it did have a season when the air turned chilly.
The forest in particular was dark and windy, so it was fairly cold.
In times like that, what’s the food you really crave?
Isn’t it snacks like sweet potatoes and fish-shaped bread?
He couldn’t make fish-shaped bread yet, but he had banana sweet potatoes, which were far more delicious than ordinary sweet potatoes.
A combination of natural sweetness and savory depth!
Some people might eat so many they get sick of them, but for a first-timer, it was hard for these to taste bad.
And also…
‘No matter how cool-headed someone is, at that age they absolutely devour food.’
As he watched his little brother now outright wolfing down the sweet potato, bite after bite, his own school days came to mind.
Eating breakfast, eating a snack, eating lunch.
And that still wasn’t enough—secretly hopping the school wall to buy bread and a drink.
Even that wasn’t the end of it.
Hadn’t he ended up boiling ramyeon after school because he was still hungry?
‘No wonder it tastes good.’
Just as expected, Rickshel ate up an entire banana sweet potato as if mesmerized, and Lion swiftly pressed another sweet potato into his hand.
And only when that number climbed past three…
‘Ah—!’
Rickshel stopped moving.
‘I—I ate that much?’
It was only after he’d eaten his fill of sweet potatoes that thoughts of face and dignity came back to him.
“…”
“Heh heh. Looks like you enjoyed it.”
“…I did.”
There was no room to make excuses.
Embarrassing as it was, he decided to answer honestly.
Lion handed him the water he’d brought along, then naturally plopped down right on the ground and leaned his back against a thick tree.
“This isn’t so bad, is it?”
“…No. It really isn’t.”
Having tasted enjoyment, he became all the more candid afterward.
Rickshel added dry branches to the campfire and went a long while without speaking.
“Thank you for the sweet potatoes. I ate very well.”
“You’re calling that a thank-you meal? You think I wouldn’t do that much for my own little brother?”
“…”
Thump, thump. Lion patted Rickshel’s back.
“You’ve worked hard all this time.”