Guardian Evaluation (3)
Thinking he might as well help with the camp setup, Lowen stepped down from the carriage—only to find a heap of potatoes waiting for him.
"This is the first test."
They were fresh potatoes. Big, round king potatoes, so large that finishing even one looked like a challenge. But a test? Really?
Lowen stared down at them with that very thought.
"Use these to prepare the Saintess's dinner."
"Ah."
He nodded as if that settled it.
"So you want to see my cooking skills?"
"Exactly."
Chloe held up three fingers.
"There are three essentials for living, aren't there?"
She named them one by one, folding a finger with each.
"Clothing, food, and shelter. The guardian evaluation will be based on these three, plus a few additional factors I'll be checking."
She crossed her arms and looked down at him.
"You've been living with her for over two months. You should at least manage the basics, right?"
Of course, even the basics wouldn't cut it—she'd fail him on the spot for bare minimum work. It had to be good enough that anyone would nod and say, Yes, this is a meal fit for a Saintess.
"I only need to prepare the Saintess's meal?"
Lowen glanced around. Holy Knights were bustling about setting up camp. The cooking staff were already at work on dinner, but five people preparing food for several dozen looked like a struggle.
"Don't tell me you're planning to cook for all the Holy Knights here too?"
"I can throw together a side dish or two while I'm at it."
He was going for a perfect score, no question. He would prove he was a better guardian for the Saintess than Chloe herself—press her pride so hard she'd wonder who was evaluating whom. Then he'd earn proper recognition and stay right where he belonged: at Ariel's side.
"Hah! Just focus on getting the Saintess's meal right."
Chloe spun on her heel and headed back to the carriage.
"?"
Watching her go, Lowen spotted Ariel at the carriage window, waving. She clenched a fist, her eyes burning with such fierce determination they practically shouted You can do it! at him.
He smirked and flashed her an OK sign.
"Hm?"
Halfway back, Chloe caught Ariel sending someone a silent cheer. She whipped her head around. Lowen was hoisting the potato basket. When she looked back at Ariel, the girl was sitting demurely as if nothing had happened.
The moment Chloe turned away again, Lowen gave Ariel a light wave. A smile tugged at the corner of Ariel's mouth—she'd been watching him from the corner of her eye the whole time.
An hour later, dinner prepared, Lowen knocked politely on the Saintess's carriage door.
"Are you finished?"
The door opened and Chloe stood before him.
"As you can see, it's done."
Like a chef presenting his dish to the judges at a cooking competition, Lowen held out the finished plate.
"Wh…?"
Chloe's eyes went wide the instant she saw it. The potatoes gleamed with a lemon-gold light, and a sweet-and-tart aroma drifted up to tease the appetite.
"W-what is this?"
"Potato salad."
Lowen explained the dish.
"I cut the potatoes into bite-sized pieces and boiled them in turmeric water. Then I mixed lemon juice with honey for a dressing and drizzled it over the top. Finished with basil for fragrance."
The name: Lemon-Honey Potato Salad, now with basil.
Chloe had provided the potatoes; everything else he'd borrowed from the cooking staff. With the ingredients on hand, it hadn't been difficult—potato salad wasn't a hard dish to begin with.
"Please enjoy, Saintess."
"Thank you for the meal!"
Ariel speared a piece of potato with her fork.
"Haum… ooooh!"
The moment it touched her tongue, her eyes squeezed shut. Her hair seemed to fluff up, and her shoulders gave a delighted little shiver. The sweetness of the lemon-honey dressing danced across her tongue, laced with a gentle tang.
"Hooong! Oong-oong!"
When she bit into the soft potato, the fluffy interior melted away. The dressing was excellent, but the potatoes themselves were boiled to perfection—not too firm, not falling apart, just soft enough to eat with pleasure. Ariel bounced on her seat, hips bobbing with pure joy.
"Bishop Lowen, this is sooooo good!"
The reaction was over the top, but she meant every word.
"Thank you."
His usual cooking was already delicious, but this potato salad was twice as good. He had truly sharpened his knife for this.
"Cardinal Chloe, you should try one too."
Ariel speared a potato and held it out to her.
"It's just potato salad, how good could it—"
Chloe took a skeptical bite. A glittering lemon-bright flash streaked through her mind.
"…It's good."
She wanted to dress up the review with elaborate metaphors, but the ordinary potato salad was so absurdly delicious she couldn't even think of any. And it wasn't just the taste—he'd clearly put care into the plating. The arrangement of the potatoes, the drizzle of dressing, the basil garnish: everything formed a single, harmonious whole.
This bishop… cooked suspiciously well.
"Were you a chef before you became a priest?"
"Not a chef, but I did cook professionally for a time."
The kind of cooking that involved dressing targets with a sword, that is.
Setting that aside, there were reasons Lowen cooked so well. It had started with making tasty meals for his little sister out of scarce ingredients. Then, as the youngest member of his knight order, kitchen duty had steadily honed his skill. Later, on days without missions, he'd filled the hollow hours by cooking—and gotten good at it.
Looking back, with this level of ability he might have done well switching careers to chef. Of course, by the time he'd reached this skill, he was already at the stage of reading a blade's flow with his eyes closed.
"So? What's the evaluation?"
Lowen looked at Chloe with complete confidence.
"Well…"
She tapped her evaluation slate. Outside the carriage, Holy Knights could be heard getting excited over the potato salad. Taste aside, something sweet and tart was the perfect stress relief for exhausted bodies.
"Surely Your Eminence wouldn't deliberately mark me down?"
"I would never!"
She checked off the score on her slate.
"It's… a perfect score."
When Lowen earned full marks, Ariel lifted her chin with proud satisfaction, as if to say, Heh, that's my Bishop Lowen. Anyone watching would have thought she was the one being praised.
Later, as Lowen was preparing for bed in his own carriage, Chloe yanked the door open without warning.
"What is it?"
He'd sensed her approach, so he knew she was coming—but he hadn't expected her to skip knocking entirely.
"Second test. Create a place where the Saintess can sleep comfortably."
"Isn't she sleeping in the carriage?"
"Exactly. Make it so she can rest comfortably inside the carriage."
At this point he rather wanted to ask the reverse: Could Your Eminence manage it?
"Understood."
But Chloe held his leash, so he obeyed without complaint.
"You're not giving me anything this time?"
"Use whatever's already in the carriage as you like, and I'll freely provide blankets."
"Then I'll take some blankets, please."
When sleeping in a carriage, you usually lay sideways across the seats. Modern carriages could unfold their seats into something like a bed—he'd have to check whether the Saintess's carriage had that feature.
"Pardon the intrusion."
Lowen climbed aboard. Ariel was already settling in for the night, a large pillow hugged to her chest, lying sideways to fit the seat. Cramped for someone Lowen's size, but more than enough for petite Ariel.
"Bishop Lowen, what's the test this time?"
She looked up at him with bright curiosity, still half-reclined.
"I'm to arrange a place where the Saintess can sleep comfortably."
"Hmm? It's already fine, though?"
She glanced behind her.
"I don't see Cardinal Chloe."
"I asked her to fetch blankets."
"Is that so?"
Ariel sat up.
"Actually… there is one thing missing."
Beneath her long lashes, those violet eyes wavered. She rested both hands atop her full chest and looked up at him.
"The pillow I hug when I sleep is too small."
She meant the one she'd just been holding—not her usual everyday pillow.
"You always sleep hugging a large pillow, don't you, Saintess."
"Yes."
She nodded and pointed at Lowen.
"It would be nice to have a big pillow…"
She lifted her eyes just a fraction.
"A solid, reliable pillow like Bishop Lowen would be wonderful…"
Whether he hadn't caught her soft murmur or simply ignored it, Lowen was surveying the carriage interior. Then he stepped toward her, pinned her gently against the wall, and braced a hand beside her ear—the classic wall-pin pose.
"B-Bishop Lowen…?!"
Ariel frantically checked the window. The blinds were drawn so no one outside could see in, but if anyone happened to look, the situation would seem highly improper. His face drew closer and closer.
"Ah… aah… uuh…"
After a last darting glance around, she softly closed her eyes and puckered her lips.
"Of course!"
Lowen snapped his fingers as if he'd found something. He pressed a small button behind Ariel. A mana-stone lamp—a product of magical engineering built into the carriage—flickered to life.
"The Holy See would never have prepared an outdated carriage."
For a Saintess? Of course not. Ariel's carriage was the latest model, built for comfort and convenience. Pressing other buttons closed the window blinds automatically, locked the carriage doors, and—most importantly—slid the seats forward and unfolded the hidden sections, transforming the seating into a bed.
"Ohh…"
Lowen marveled. Men, as a species, get excited by advanced technology even when they don't fully understand it.
He converted the carriage interior into a bed and piled Chloe's blankets into a thick, cozy nest.
"The carriage turned into a bed…"
Chloe, a complete novice when it came to technology, only knew how to turn the mana-stone lamps on and off.
"Tsk…"
She clicked her tongue. Lowen had passed the second test perfectly as well—a victory built on information from his subscription to the Magician's Weekly Digest. As always, any scrap of knowledge could prove useful in the most unexpected ways.
The next morning, Lowen straightened Ariel's clothes as she emerged after changing.
"Saintess, shall I braid your hair as usual?"
Still fluttering from Lowen's wall-pin the night before, Ariel nodded through a yawn, clearly short on sleep.
"Haaaawn… yeheh…"
He brushed out her tousled hair and braided it neatly and prettily.
"Tsk."
Watching the scene, Chloe clicked her tongue again. It wasn't the third formal test, but seeing Lowen tend to Ariel's morning routine made it clear: the "clothing" category was a pass as well.
In just one day, she had come to realize how thoroughly suited he was as a guardian. With domestic skills like these, cooking, cleaning, laundry—he'd handle all of it. And his manner toward the Saintess was impeccably proper. She'd meant to grade him harshly, but without forcing it, there was nothing to criticize.
He was perfect. Cardinal Demian had believed in him for a reason.
"We'll finish the evaluation with the next test. Last of all, I'll assess whether you have the strength to protect the Saintess as her guardian."
Chloe gestured to a Holy Knight standing at the head of the formation.
"The two of you will spar."
Strength enough to protect the Saintess? There was nothing left to prove, really. If he described in detail what had happened in the Night Sky Spring Forest, and how he'd faced the Flame Knight in Rest Town, that alone should earn recognition. There was no separate physical evidence, but the closest eyewitness was right here—it would be enough somehow.
Still, seeing once was better than hearing a hundred times. Demonstrating his prowess with their own eyes would be far more convincing than recounting his exploits a hundred times over.
"Understood."
Lowen accepted the forced test without protest.