Boyhood (7)

Fresh from his bath, Edwin was treated to the maidservants' full three-course service package.

"How can your skin be this nice? Are you sure you were really a hunter's boy?"

"It's better than the knight trainees who claim they're the sons of some baron or viscount."

First up: skincare.

The maids' flattery was pleasant enough to hear.

This body's skin is pretty good, I'll give it that. Kids' skin is supposed to be nice, sure, but I've been living like a dog for the past month and still not a single blemish.

Back on Earth I could slather on acne cream all I wanted and nothing worked—I had to go to a dermatologist. Guess skin really is something you're born with.

Next: a haircut.

One of the maids rolled up her sleeves and stepped forward.

"I'm this manor's unofficial barber! Even Lord Leonhardt entrusts his hair to me!"

"Young Master Edwin has been wasting his natural looks. First things first—we're fixing this shaggy mess."

Hold on. She said 'fixing,' so why is she pulling out something that looks like a salon perm machine?

You can actually get a perm in a fantasy world? The tech level of romance-fantasy settings is seriously…

Last of all: getting dressed.

I feel like a game character cycling through dozens of outfits.

When the three tasks were finally done—

Slap!

The maids high-fived each other like a scene out of a famous basketball manga.

Edwin looked in the mirror and muttered a thoroughly clichéd line under his breath.

Uh… this is… me…?

Softly curling hair, fair skin, and those melancholic gray eyes.

Even in a romance-fantasy world overflowing with beautiful men and women, he ranked near the top.

No one would blink twice if told he was the young master of some noble house.

While Edwin was still admiring his reflection, the door flew open and a little doll of a girl shot into the room.

"They said Edwin was in here!"

A young girl with damp hair still clinging to her cheeks took one look at him and started bouncing in place.

"Uh! This is! Edwin!"

What the hell.

Goosebumps raced down Edwin's spine.

How did Serifina—an actual native of this romance-fantasy world—know that meme?

Don't tell me… she's not the original Serifina, but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a transmigrator?

If some adult woman had slipped into that body…

No way. Everything about Serifina so far has been pure, unfiltered little-kid energy. Even a great actress can't fake that kind of innocence.

Among the people who came thronging in after Serifina, the Duchess pressed a hand to her forehead.

"Darling. Where on earth did you learn to talk like that?"

"Huh?"

Serifina glanced at Edwin for a cue.

The fog in Edwin's head cleared at once.

Wait—so she really is a regressor?

She was so thoroughly a little kid that I never suspected it. But with a brain as dense as Serifina's, maybe her intelligence doesn't change much between childhood and adulthood…

"Edwin is bad!"

The scolding came out of nowhere.

From Edwin's point of view, at least.

From Serifina's—after reading his diary—it was only fair.

The Duchess sighed, then strode over to Edwin and inspected him from every angle.

"You really are handsome. When you grow up, you'll break a great many young ladies' hearts."

"Right? Edwin is so bad, isn't he?"

"But to our little one, he'll be a good friend, I'm sure."

"Mama's bad too…"

When her mother failed to take her side, Serifina pouted.

But at that moment the Duchess was far more focused on Edwin than on Serifina.

"Looking at you properly, you're much too thin. You must not have been eating well since you lost your parents, and then you suffered so much while those bandits were chasing you."

"…"

What is going on now.

I'm not thin—I've got a boy's body with a reasonable amount of muscle. This is a perfectly good build, isn't it?

Why has the Duchess suddenly switched into country-grandma mode.

When we parted this morning she was still firmly in 'Serifina's friend' territory. Did something happen in the meantime to earn me this much attention? Did Serifina explain how important I am?

"Hmph!"

Judging by that sulky little huff, Serifina definitely didn't do anything of the sort.

Don't tell me it's the face? Looks—the most reliable plot device in a romance-fantasy world, and something that even throws off the power balance?

"Hmph! Hmph!"

Serifina prowled around Edwin, making her displeasure very clear.

She would poke him like a cat fishing for attention, then fold her arms and look away the moment he glanced at her—over and over.

Cute.

"Hmph…"

At last the bouncing Serifina flushed pink and hid behind the Duchess.

"Mama. I'm hungry."

"Of course. It's dinnertime, so we came to fetch you. Shall we go eat together?"

Edwin followed the Duchess toward the dining hall.

I know the Erhardt dining hall well enough. It's where the early-game honey events are hidden—and where you pick up buffs.

In the game you had to gather ingredients yourself and unlock recipes before the buff foods opened up, but a real duchy like this should already have everything developed, right?

He stepped into the dining hall full of expectation.

At the head of a long table straight out of a chaebol drama sat Leonhardt.

A glint of interest lit the Duchess's eyes at the sight of him.

"You're always eating hastily in your study, yet today you came downstairs. Is it because of Serifina, or…"

The Duchess casually drew Edwin to her side.

"???"

The personal space ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠around here has been getting really weird for a while now.

Is this the treatment a handsome man gets in a romance-fantasy world?

"No fair!"

Serifina glued herself tightly to Edwin's other side.

Leonhardt's expression went pitch-black.

"Mother. And Serifina…"

"Aren't you hungry? Our Serifina has been fussing about being starving since earlier."

"Yeah!"

"Serve the meal."

The Duchess seated Edwin beside her.

Serifina settled naturally into the place on Edwin's right.

The arrangement left the Duchess and Leonhardt facing each other, with Edwin and Serifina lined up next to the Duchess.

"Mother. By etiquette, men and women are not meant to sit on the same side."

"We're among family—why be so particular?"

"Edwin is an outsider."

"If he's our little one's friend, he's as good as family. Here, dear—start with this."

The Duchess portioned some of the served salad onto his plate.

The moment Serifina spotted the greenery, she made her declaration.

"I don't have to eat this! Edwin can eat lots of it!"

"Being a picky eater is bad…"

"Hmph!"

Serifina wouldn't so much as look at the salad.

The maids, clearly used to this, served salad only to everyone else.

So she's hated vegetables since this age, huh.

In the game, too, eating anything with greens as the main ingredient raised her stress. Meat dishes lowered it.

In the game you could get away with eating only meat, but in reality you need a proper nutritional balance.

Before transmigrating, Edwin had been an ordinary unmarried man in his twenties—but after roaming enough communities and watching enough YouTube, he had picked up a few tricks for handling kids.

First, he ate the salad with relish.

"This is really delicious!"

Step one: over-the-top admiration.

He took a few more hearty bites, then—

"Could I have another plate, please?"

"Of course."

At the Duchess's gesture, another plate of salad appeared at once.

Edwin set about eating it without another word.

Then the reaction came.

"Is it good?"

"Mm!"

"Liar. That stuff tastes awful."

"It's better than the meat I used to eat every day!"

Serifina watched him, swallowing hard.

Offering her a bite here would be an amateur move.

People tire quickly of what comes easily, and only truly appreciate what they have to work for—that was human nature.

Looking for all the world as if he were afraid she might steal some, Edwin quietly edged his plate farther away.

Serifina's cheeks puffed up like little buns.

"I wasn't even going to eat it! That's so mean!"

"But… it really looked like you were about to snatch it any second."

"Then I'll just eat mine!"

At Serifina's gesture, a maid hesitantly brought over a salad of her own.

With the ferocity of a battlefield charge, Serifina stabbed a forkful of greens and shoved a huge bite into her mouth.

"Does it taste bad?"

"…"

"If it tastes bad, give it to me. I'll eat it."

"No! It's good!"

Edwin watched with quiet satisfaction as Serifina demolished her salad like a warrior.

Then he felt eyes on him and turned his head—to find the Duchess and Leonhardt staring in blank astonishment.

They're shocked that Serifina the vegetable-hater is eating salad.

Honestly, so am I. There were still a lot of stages left, and she jumped straight to the finish.

Once the salad was done, soup arrived, and soon after that came the main course: steak.

The moment Edwin saw the meat, his hand went to his knife of its own accord.

"This is called steak… oh, you already know how."

The Duchess, who had been about to teach him how to eat it, trailed off as she watched Edwin slice his steak with practiced ease.

And Leonhardt's eyes flashed.

"For someone who claimed to be of common birth, you carve a steak rather naturally."

Ah. It's been so long since I had steak that I just…

So what are you going to do about it.

If I say that as a hunter's kid I cut a lot of meat, what exactly can you do to me.

He was about to swallow the bite in his mouth and answer when the Duchess covered for him first.

"Edwin is a hunter's child, after all. He even said he butchered and smoked the game himself. Of course he's good with a knife."

"Mother…"

"We're at the table. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠That's enough."

"…Yes, Mother."

The Duchess really does seem to like me a lot.

If she's going to keep taking my side, I can afford to worry less about Leonhardt.

He was about to go back to cutting his steak when a forkful of meat appeared beside him.

"Here!"

It was Serifina.

"Eat this!"

"Uh… out of nowhere?"

"Eat!"

When someone offers, you don't refuse.

He took the bite from her fork—and from across the table felt a murderous aura of staggering intensity.

A jealous guy is not a cool look.

"Well? I like Edwin more than Mama does, right?"

"…Yeah."

That evening's dinner turned the entire duchy household upside down.

First, that Lady Serifina had made a friend.

Second, that the Duchess was remarkably fond of a boy named Edwin.

Third, that this Edwin was handsome enough to pass for a member of the nobility—and so on.

Maids and footmen clustered in twos and threes to gossip about him, and even the secretaries who answered directly to Leonhardt were no exception.

Of course, Edwin knew none of this. Blinking heavy eyes, he opened his diary.

Almost midnight. Time for the diary to decide what theme today's entry gets.

I've entered the ducal house, and the maids even spruced me up, so a theme ought to drop.

I got an achievement, too.

Honestly, the trait did nothing for Edwin himself.

But knowing that adorable little Serifina would eat a more balanced diet and grow up healthy was more than enough to satisfy him.

He had no idea why that number had gone down.

The sample size was still tiny—maybe he'd figure it out as he went.

He was chasing those thoughts around, trying to stay awake, when—

"…"

No.

What do you mean, Parenting Diary.

Edwin felt deeply wronged.

He and Serifina were the same age.

Their mental ages might be a little different… and if Serifina really was a regressor…

Okay, fine, there is a gap.

But a Parenting Diary?

Am I her dad?