What Melted the Iron-Blooded Knight's Expression Wasn't Harsh Training—It Was the Crisp Carbonation
What Melted the Iron-Blooded Knight's Expression Wasn't Harsh Training—It Was the Crisp Carbonation
Andy Warmaiden.
The finest knight ever produced by the Warmaiden family, a knightly house that had guarded the imperial capital and the imperial household for generations.
The youngest daughter of the current head, Fless Warmaiden — a woman who, instead of claiming the family succession, volunteered to serve as the personal guard of Crown Princess Diana.
She awakened her Aura younger than any name on the family rolls, and at fifteen she bested veterans over thirty in the sparring ring.
At the age when other young noblewomen made their debut in society, she entered the knightly tournament and seized the championship.
She never felt it unfair that she missed her debutante ball.
To her, winning the tournament counted for more glory than dancing with some dashing young lord at a debut.
From childhood to the present, at twenty-four years of age, the sword had never left her life.
The Warmaiden family of knights lived by a single iron rule.
- Never reveal your emotions to anyone.
For the Warmaidens, a house of guardian knights, showing your feelings was the gravest disqualification there was. Their duty demanded they bury every emotion and fix their attention wholly upon the one they guarded.
And so Andy shared her feelings and private affairs with no one.
Not even Diana.
'I am Her Highness's shadow.'
She held it as a conviction that she must never want more than that.
She had worn the mask so well — always composed, always guarding her expression, fulfilling the role of a shadow to perfection.
The shadow of the imperial princess, who had never once opened her heart to anyone in the Crown Princess's Knight Order and had always kept herself hidden.
- Everyone, focus.
- Fix your attention on the tip of your sword. Next.
- That edge is dull. Speed up. Do you think you could protect Her Highness like that?
Andy, who had earned the name Iron-Blooded Knight precisely because she never let an emotion slip, now — for the very first time —
"Hmmnnn?"
— lost her composure entirely.
Her expression crumbled. The bubbles bursting in her mouth, the sweet flavor dancing on her tongue, and then the tart, bright note that went straight to her head — it all hit at once.
Eyes flying wide at the tingling spark that zipped across her entire mouth, not just her tongue, she stared at Lucas, seated across from her.
A gulp.
The taste of the carbonated drink ran down her throat.
The sensation sent a shiver through her body. She looked at the drink, at the lemonade, and at Lucas all at once.
Even back in the mess hall, he had been the man who captured the appetites of the knights — and Her Highness herself — with his uncanny cooking.
Andy had been among the many knights who relished his food, but she had never keenly felt his absence once it was gone.
Because to Andy Warmaiden, food was simply something that kept a person from starving.
Beyond that, a knight needed nothing — a palate that was practically the Warmaiden family motto given flesh.
And so, privately, Andy had never understood Diana's obsession with Lucas.
But a knight follows her liege's command regardless.
Yet this sweet, tart, electric drink flooding her mouth right now —
"It's delicious......."
— had captivated Andy Warmaiden's palate in a single gulp.
Utterly entranced, she looked down at the chilled glass in her hand.
She had never tasted a tea like this.
Andy was far more likely to hold a sword than a teacup, far more at home in armor than in a dress — yet she was still a woman.
When duty did not claim her, she would brew tea at home alone; it was her sole hobby.
From hot tea to beverages chilled by magic.
She fancied that few in the empire could match her when it came to drinking.
Food was nothing more than fuel against starvation.
'About water and drink... the family code had nothing to say about those.'
That was why she had started brewing tea and drinks as a pastime.
And she had tasted all manner of teas up to now.
"I-I've never tasted anything like this."
The lemonade rippled inside the glass.
Ice clinked softly with every movement.
With every ripple, bubbles frothed and fizzed toward the surface.
There was exactly one drink she knew that produced foam.
Beer — the yellow stuff that worked up a white head, the sort that mercenaries and adventurers drank.
"Sir Lucas, you said this was not beer, correct?"
The Warmaiden family's iron code forbade alcohol absolutely, so she had never touched the stuff. It was the only reason she could imagine asking such a foolish question — and she was well aware it was foolish.
Because she had, quite literally, never drunk beer before.
"That's right. It isn't beer — it's lemonade. A beverage people drink before a meal to whet the appetite, or after one to help digestion."
"But I have never encountered a drink with carbonation before."
"Fascinating, isn't it? A process devised by the magician in our village."
"......."
A gulp.
She took another mouthful of lemonade.
"Kkhhhh!"
Her eyes squeezed shut once more against the fizz jolting through her head.
"Hhaa — hhht! Hoo-ha!"
Every time the carbonation popped she flinched — a jolt here, a twitch there — and yet even as her body recoiled, she took another sip.
"Haaaa...."
Eyes wide, she expressed the taste of the lemonade and the thrill of the carbonation with her entire body.
"H-how can something taste like this...."
"I added syrup and lemon preserve. It seems to suit your tastes."
"I understand the lemon preserve and the syrup. There are teas and drinks in the capital that use fruit preserves and syrup as well. But this... this is something else."
She pointed at the fizzing bubbles.
"What is this? How did you infuse it? No — how can the balance of lemon preserve and syrup be so perfect? The carbonation popping in my mouth blankets the taste of a drink that is sharper and sweeter than anything else. It is plainly more stimulating than other drinks, yet it never becomes unpleasant!"
Face flushed, Andy cried out in a voice full of heat.
Scrape!
She came halfway to her feet while she was at it.
Apart from drilling the knights, she couldn't remember ever raising her voice like this.
No — even during training, her commands had always been dry and flat.
But now there was thick wonder in her voice, along with surprise and something close to excitement.
You could call it the difference between Work Andy and Off-Duty Andy.
"Oh?"
Even Andy herself was startled by it.
"This is the first time I've seen the Vice-Commander speak with so much energy."
"Th-that... my apologies. I got a little carried away."
Clearing her throat, she straightened her chair and sat back down.
"I never knew Sir Lucas possessed such deep knowledge of tea and beverages. Had I known, we might have discussed the art of tea at least once."
"I'm no great expert. Just things I've picked up here and there."
"...A drink this perfectly balanced goes far beyond 'picked up here and there.' Even without the carbonation, it possesses the equilibrium to rank among the finest beverages in the empire."
After delivering that honest assessment, she looked at Lucas and took another sip.
"How did you add this carbonation? I've heard such a lively tingle exists only in beer."
"The carbonation comes from a process devised by our village alchemist. It's something that's going to revolutionize beverages in the capital. A way to deliver the pleasure of fizz to nobles who refuse to drink beer for the sake of appearances."
"...I see. An artisan of that caliber, here in the countryside... it feels almost too neatly arranged."
"Funny how things work, isn't it?"
Lucas simply answered with a smile, and Andy let out a breath, nodding.
Even without his saying so, she understood what he meant.
He was choosing not to elaborate.
"If by sheer coincidence artisans gather around you, then I suppose Sir Lucas's character deserves the credit."
She took another mouthful of lemonade.
She kept drinking, yet the more she drank, the more she wanted — it carried a curious, almost addictive quality.
She could count nearly ten years of tasting countless teas and beverages with pride, and yet she was sinking fast into this astonishing drink produced by modern alchemy.
Clink.
Every time she lifted the glass and set it down again, the ice inside gave off a clear, bright sound.
"I do have one question."
"Go ahead."
Gazing down into the glass, she spoke.
"Why go to the trouble of putting ice in the glass for a cold drink?"
In the empire, there were two methods for drinking something cold.
The first: put ice in the cup and let the ice chill the liquid.
It was the most common method, but high-ranking nobles never much liked it.
The reason was simple.
Melted ice diluted the drink's flavor.
So instead, knights and higher nobles used magician-crafted cup-chilling techniques to enjoy their cold beverages.
Just as one spun mana to transmit heat, the reverse — transmitting cold — operated on the same principle.
The empire's current refrigerators ran on that very system.
It wasn't as though Lucas couldn't produce cold through mana.
There was no obvious reason to deliberately use flavor-wrecking ice.
"Because it's more efficient."
"...I had believed Sir Lucas was a strict man when it came to flavor. Am I mistaken?"
"This is a place that gets several hundred customers at lunch alone. If I poured every ounce of effort into a single guest, the rest would leave unsatisfied. It's a choice I make to get the food out fast."
"I see."
She accepted that.
It meant that, just as swordsmanship shifts with circumstance, his cooking had adapted to its environment.
Clink.
Before she realized it, every last drop of lemonade had traveled into Andy's stomach.
"It was truly delicious. I mean that."
"Would you like another glass?"
"...May I?"
"Of course. You're not the only one who'll be wanting this."
Andy raised her head.
Only then did she take in her surroundings.
She realized that several knights who'd finished drilling, an elf, and an ash-haired young woman stood watching with shining eyes, their gazes fixed on the cup in her hand.
She burned with embarrassment.
Her face went red.
The Iron-Blooded Knight had lost her mask — agitated, openly, for the first time.
"Th-then, if I may trouble you."
She held out her glass of ice, flustered and mortified and not knowing what to do with herself.
For her, showing emotion was a disgrace.
A violation of the family creed, no different from breaking it outright.
***
'I never pegged Vice-Commander Andy as someone who loved drinks.'
That was a hobby I had never imagined.
She was the woman who never once joined Diana for teatime.
The woman who stood silently at the side, watching the noble young ladies enjoy their tea.
Had she been nursing a secret longing for that sort of thing all along?
I was mixing a fresh lemonade, smiling to myself, when Andrea and Bldi came right up next to me in the kitchen.
"Boss, who is that woman?"
"Master, she's an enemy, right? Please hurry and tell me she's an enemy. I'll throw her out this instant."
The two of them had followed me all the way into the kitchen and sidled up close, demanding answers.
"She's my old boss. From back in the knight order."
Bldi blinked at that.
"Boss? What's that mean?"
"It means enemy. Humans don't like their bosses."
"An enemy! I'll get rid of her!"
I caught Bldi's hand before she could grab the frying pan again.
"No."
"Hic!"
"It's not a no. You only left the order and ended up way out here because of those people, Boss. So she's an enemy."
I handed the glass of lemonade to Andrea, who was busy spreading strange rumors right beside me.
"Knock off the weird talk and try this."
Andrea pressed her lips together and glared at me.
"I really do think it'd be better to throw her out. There have been way too many women around you lately, Boss. It's going to cause a misunderstanding."
"What kind of misunderstanding?"
"The kind where people might think you're a libertine."
Something in Andrea's dead-serious expression sparked a playful impulse.
How to put it...
The look on her face just begged to be teased.
"What if it isn't a misunderstanding?"
"......Whaaat?"
"What if I really am a libertine? What if that's exactly why they kicked me out of the imperial capital?"
"Uh... well, then...."
Flustered, Andrea couldn't meet my eyes and quickly looked away.
"Th-then I guess the face... could be worth it?"
"So by elf standards, my face passes muster?"
"Th-that's just what the saying means, okay?!"
I gave her a light flick on the forehead as she floundered visibly.
"I'll behave so no such misunderstandings stick, so don't worry. Now take this and hand it out to the knights."
"Tch... fine."
I patted Bldi on the shoulder — she was still standing there staring blankly at the hand I'd grabbed.
"He, he held my hand. He heeeeld...."
"Bldi."
"Y-yes?"
"Take this. Yours is a cherry ade — I drew the Coco blood separately and blended it in."
"Ah, th-thank you."
"Don't thank me. I'm the one who's grateful."
I'd served them something to drink before the meal, so now it was time to feed them a proper dish.
I glanced over the Coco that Bldi had drained and I'd butchered afterward.
'Vice-Commander Andy never liked heavily sauced food, so a Coco breast steak with just a salt seasoning ought to do fine.'