28. Seria's That Day
"Bang! 'Pot!' 'Kwaaak!'"
The real sound of a pot shattering echoed thunderously through the corner of the banquet hall. The mercenary frothed at the mouth with a dying scream and passed out.
Situation over. The brief commotion hadn't even lasted a full minute.
"Phew."
Seria let out a light breath as she sheathed her wooden sword at her waist. On the floor lay the mercenaries, sprawled out amicably with dislocated jaws, torn legs, and shattered pots.
"Nice and clean."
I chugged the rest of my milk in one go and clapped. Seria straightened her clothes and returned to my side. She'd just beaten those guys like they were stray dogs, yet her face was perfectly calm, not a single breath out of place. My escort knight or not, was this really okay?
"Young master. That pot technique seems pretty good."
"Right? The impact feels amazing, doesn't it?"
We were chatting casually like that when—
"Wh-what happened?!"
"Assassins! Guards!"
Before we knew it, the nobles and guards from the adults' section had rushed over, pale-faced. Leading them were my dad, Sir Mason, and the host of the banquet, Earl Roan.
"Kalian! Seria!"
Dad came panting up, grabbed my shoulders, and checked me over from every angle.
"Are you hurt anywhere?! What the hell are these guys?!"
"Ah, they seem like kidnappers after the shampoo recipe. They were disguised as waiters."
I nodded toward the ones passed out on the floor.
"But Seria took care of them all. I was busy with the tart."
"······."
Sir Mason and Earl Roan's gazes dropped to the floor. The frothing, unconscious thugs looked pathetic. Especially the last one whose pot had shattered—his face was half-buried in the marble floor. And a 14-year-old girl did that with a wooden stick, not even a real sword? Shock spread across the nobles' faces. The noble kids who'd mocked me earlier squeaked and hid behind their parents the moment their eyes met Seria's.
"Wh-what kind of disgrace is this···!"
Earl Roan shouted, his face ashen.
"Rats sneaking into my banquet hall! Drag these bastards to the basement right now! Find out who's behind this, even if you have to tear their flesh from their bones!"
At the earl's furious command, the guards hauled the mercenaries away like luggage. Earl Roan wiped his cold sweat and bowed to my dad and me.
"Baron Martel, and young Kalian. I'm truly sorry. I never imagined our territory's security was this lax. We almost had a disaster."
"N-no, Earl. Our kids are safe, that's what matters."
Dad tried to brush it off with his usual good-natured smile, but I wasn't about to let this opportunity slip.
"We almost did have a disaster."
I sighed with a serious expression.
"If we'd even gotten grazed, it would've been bad. Something unthinkable back in our territory—I was pretty shocked. And Seria seems to have twisted her wrist a bit."
"Young master? I'm fine···."
"Shh. You're super shaken up and in pain right now."
I whispered, and Seria quickly caught on, clutching her wrist and furrowing her brow. It was an obvious act, but it worked in this situation.
Earl Roan's face went even whiter. The golden goose of the Martel family nearly getting hurt at his banquet? This could escalate into an inter-territory diplomatic issue.
"Ahem! I-I'll make sure to compensate properly! Anything young Kalian wants, just say it!"
"Anything?"
I smirked slightly.
"The road through your territory to ours is so rough, the carriage ride was brutal. You know, that road bordering your lands."
"Ah, aha. Road paving! I'll put workers on it starting tomorrow and pave it all the way to the Martel border!"
"As expected of the earl—such generosity. Thank you."
I bowed politely. No more butt-busting rides for me. Dad looked at me with an expression that said, My son is amazing! That's right. Gotta grab what's there to grab.
After that, things went pretty much as expected.
"What was that just now? Magic?"
"You know magic too!?"
The kids started crowding around me one by one. Kids gonna kid. They all looked up at me with shining eyes. I put on an impromptu magic show as a bonus. Their unified "oohs and aahs" were kinda cute.
And Seria's side.
"Who taught you that swordsmanship?!"
"Want to be my apprentice?!"
The knights who'd come to help out surrounded her with a barrage of questions. Too many people to reach me, so she had no choice but to run to Dad nearby.
"Hahaha, our Seria did this and that···."
Dad had zero intention of helping. Seria looked up at him with a betrayed expression. And so she stood there, bombarded with praise. Her face was beet red, eyes spinning.
Well, that's social life too.
I could've helped, but she was too cute, so I let it be.
—
Back in the carriage on the way home after the banquet.
Seria sat across from me, staring blankly. She looked soul-drained.
"Boo!"
"Kyaaah!! Wh-what?!"
I startled her, and she jumped, looking around wildly.
"Heh. Tired? Want a lap pillow?"
"···N-no, I'm fine."
I got up and plopped down next to her.
"Then lean on me at least. It's okay."
"Ah···. Th-then, excuse me."
Seria gently leaned her head on my shoulder.
"But young master."
"Yeah?"
"Why'd you ask for the road paving earlier? Why not just gold coins?"
"Remember how I whined about my butt hurting on the way there? The road's awful."
"···You fleeced another territory's budget just for a sore butt?"
Seria stared at me in disbelief.
"Just? The comfort of my butt is directly tied to our territory's peace. And you're tired from the bumpy ride too."
"I can endure with my core muscles···."
"Yeah, yeah, your precious core muscles."
I waved it off and leaned back against the carriage seat. Anyway, annoying banquet done, kidnappers smashed, road paving secured. A very productive day.
"Seria."
"Yes."
"That pot-smashing form today? Artistic. 10/10."
Seria chuckled and shrugged at my praise.
"Isn't protecting my lord's dessert time a knight's duty?"
"Yeah. Next time, guard me during chocolate cake instead of strawberry tart."
"Hehe, noted."
We giggled at each other. The road back was still bumpy, but somehow it felt way more comfortable than the way there.
—
One day.
Seria was off from the morning. Normally she'd be up at dawn swinging her wooden sword in the training ground, but today she was curled up on the reception room sofa, not moving an inch. Her face was pale, hands clutching her stomach tight, groaning softly.
"Seria, you okay? Did you eat too much meat yesterday and get indigestion?"
As I approached worriedly—
"Oh, young master!"
The head maid auntie appeared out of nowhere like a bullet, blocking my path. She draped a warm blanket over Seria, then pulled me to the corner of the hall.
"Ah, perfect timing. Seria seems to have a stomachache—can you call a doctor?"
"A doctor? No need. Women sometimes get stomach pains like that."
"Huh? Sometimes?"
"Yes, you'll learn naturally when you're older, young master. When a girl's like that, don't touch her carelessly—just warmly coax and comfort her. Got it?"
Auntie winked meaningfully and scurried off to the kitchen.
Ah.
I got it. That day they talk about. The magic day.
Makes sense—Seria's 14 now. Prime age for physical maturity. I don't know much about girls, but I know you absolutely don't mess with someone on their magic day. Approach clumsily and rile up her sensitive mood, and she might smash my pot with that wooden sword.
"She probably wants to be alone anyway."
To avoid upsetting her, best to quietly make myself scarce instead of hovering. I grabbed a fantasy novel I'd left mid-read from the study and headed to the inner courtyard of the Lord's Castle. Nice sunshine, cool breeze—perfect for killing time with a book.
"Sigh, let's read then."
I leaned against a tree and opened the book.
But about 10 minutes later—
Rustle.
Something approached through the bushes. I looked up to see Seria shuffling over, a big blanket draped over her like a cloak.
"Huh? Seria? Didn't your stomach hurt? Why'd you leave your room?"
She didn't answer, just came right up and plopped down next to me. Then, super naturally, she bonk—rested her head on my shoulder.
"······?!"
I was so shocked I nearly dropped my book. Skinship like this from Seria? Unthinkable normally. I'd initiate it, sure, but her first? Never.
"Seria? You really okay? Running a fever?"
I asked in a panic, and she nuzzled her face against my shoulder before looking up.
"Young master···."
"Y-yeah?"
I involuntarily held my breath. Our Seria's eyes were all teary, like an abandoned puppy in the rain! And that usual stiff tone? Gone—replaced by a sweet, melty, cotton-candy voice!
Is this for real?
Isn't the magic day supposed to make you cranky? That's what I knew, at least.
"Um, Seria? What's wrong? Stomach hurt a lot?"
"Stomach hurts··· and I'm all out of energy···."
Seria fiddled with the end of my sleeve, pouting her lips.
"Young master. Pet my head, please."
"···What?"
"Pet meee···."
Gasp. Insane. My heart nearly stopped. How do you handle this gap moe! The girl who smashes wild boar pots with her wooden sword, all blanketed up and begging for pets—what do you even do!!