A Bag of Roasted Peanuts
Hmm, tricky.
Ibel rubbed her temples, lost in thought.
Twins with such different levels of development.
"Your aunt has some minor issues as well, but they'll resolve once the lady of the house takes her proper place. Now that we've decided to care for the family, we can't very well keep you stuck in the territory forever."
"Then there are two things to do once we get back: restore discipline in the household and tend to my nephews' illnesses."
"Exactly."
"I'll meet them first when we return. I need to see for myself what treatment they'll require."
Now she understood why they needed her.
The ducal bloodline of Bayern acting like wild beasts.
'If one of them turns out to be a knight, that'll be a real problem.'
Of course, she had no intention of ever breathing a word about the Bayern ducal family—not even by accident. Her lips were sealed by nature.
"Banya mentioned you were heating the house with torches... You can't do that. Nor can you keep all the windows shut."
"No matter what my aunt says, I keep the windows open in my quarters, but the children's areas were rather dim. Touring the mansion made me realize how much needs changing."
That was her biggest concern. Coughing meant poor lungs, but at their age, it probably wasn't tuberculosis yet.
If they were spitting blood, the family wouldn't be bothering with such convoluted internal treatments.
'Still, lung diseases have no real cure yet. That's why I'm so worried.'
The usual advice was to recuperate in the clean country air, and the Bayern duchy didn't seem as smoggy as the capital.
So what was the problem?
"Have you ever heard about the Bayern family illness?"
"Not at all."
"It's said a curse runs through the Bayern bloodline. Best to take things step by step, so I'll explain the family illness once we arrive in the territory."
Victor's profile was coldly set as he spoke.
Even a man who seemed to have everything had his secrets.
Ibel accepted his consideration in kind and didn't press further.
And Victor found her presence utterly comfortable.
Ibel never crossed lines, yet approached what needed knowing with care.
She was usually indifferent to others—to everything, really—but when something needed protecting, she threw herself into the fray without hesitation.
"That incident just came to mind. You fought with your superior over the need for disinfection."
"Ah...! Yes, I remember. I wasn't in my right mind back then."
"I thought it was impressive. That was probably the first day I memorized your name."
The Bayern Grand Duchy autonomous legion numbered fifty thousand in total.
About three thousand of them were in the medical corps.
Some hailed from Bayern, but most were draftees from elsewhere.
And one day, Victor came across someone yelling their head off.
"We need to disinfect! I absolutely won't back down. How can you shove such filthy scalpels into patients' bodies?!"
"The more flesh and blood on a blade, the finer the surgeon! Did they teach you nothing at university?"
"At my university, we disinfected with carbolic acid. Didn't you learn about Lady Nightingale's feats during the Crimean War? She kept field hospitals clean and saved most of her patients. Throw out those outdated scalpels already!"
Pointing fingers with upturned eyes was clear insubordination.
But the medical corps had an extra rule unlike other branches.
If your skills could save a soldier, you were free to speak up.
Victor had added it himself when leading the legion—to protect the bold when such moments arose, unlikely as they were.
And now he witnessed it firsthand.
Moreover, the man groaning on the stretcher was his old friend.
Otherwise, Victor wouldn't have come to the field hospital himself.
"You took my side back then, Your Grace."
"Yes. Thanks to that, Lucas survived."
"It wasn't fatal. But I couldn't bear watching him die from infection."
Captain Lucas Steiner.
The man shot in the abdomen during that bombardment.
One of the final twelve survivors.
'Yeah. He's still alive now.'
He doted on cannons, bombs, and explosives like his own children.
Thanks to Captain Lucas's ingenious inventions, they evaded pursuit and held out stubbornly.
"I wish... at least one more person remembered that time. Even knowing how grueling it was."
"I understand your feelings."
"Forgetting might be better, or pretending it never happened..."
Ibel lightly pressed her gloved hand to her ear, as if the ringing persisted. It usually eased after a few seconds.
Victor noticed and halted.
"We were family back then."
He gently removed her hand and covered her ear with his large one instead.
It wouldn't block the sound, but it was the best he could do now.
"I know what you're hearing. I get it sometimes too."
"......Yes."
Victor's low, careful voice was unmistakable comfort.
Ibel gazed up at the man who towered at least two heads above her.
"Your Grace."
"My name."
"......Victor."
His tone was soft yet firm.
Finally saying it felt oddly mundane, yet like the world's greatest rudeness.
Still, Ibel readily admitted the way his name rolled off her tongue felt good.
"Well done. Is the ringing better now?"
"It's fine."
Ibel grumbled unwittingly.
Her rigid demeanor from built-up tension had softened a bit.
Perhaps overcoming the burden of saying his name.
"Then enjoy the view here a moment. I have somewhere to go."
"Sure."
"Just in case: don't fall in the lake."
"Me? You think I'm a child?"
She snorted, and Victor chuckled softly.
His smile looked far more at ease.
"You cause trouble the moment I look away."
"No way."
"Defying superiors... let's see, about seven times. Once you even punched a patient."
He really suited the casual tone.
He'd probably spoken in commands his whole life.
Liking it more than formality, Ibel pouted like she had back then.
"He was trying to grab me from behind. I should've cracked his skull instead of just the nape."
"You were right."
The lingering awkwardness lifted, the air lightening again.
He was a master at handling people.
Ibel watched Victor head off somewhere, then turned to the lake.
The gentle ripples drawn by the breeze lifted her spirits just watching. Fish occasionally leaped with a plop!, vanishing as white birds circled hungrily overhead.
Lost in the peace, she stood blankly when a savory aroma suddenly wafted from the side.
"!"
It was the grand duke—no, Victor.
With the brightest expression she'd seen yet, he held out a bag of roasted peanuts.
"You like peanuts, don't you?"
"Uh, yeah, I do... You didn't go buy these, did you?"
"I did. They were packing up, so I hurried."
Good lord.
Ibel alternated stares between the heaping bag and Victor, speechless.
The iron commander from the battlefield didn't match this peanut-bearing man at all.
"......Pfft."
She failed to keep a straight face.
The nutty scent kept tempting her.
Something she'd never imagined in his hands appeared, stealing her gaze.
So she clutched her stomach and laughed.