Chapter 19

“Be careful with food, huh.”

I chewed over the note as I split the firewood.

-Thud!

Although the secret note I had received was already burned and gone, I could vividly recall it as if it were still resting in my hand.

Since receiving the note, I had been looking for the maid who delivered it. But she had vanished like a mirage; I couldn’t find her anywhere.

I wasn’t sure—perhaps the person who gave me the note wasn’t a maid after all. Maybe it was someone pretending to be one.

“...Sigh.”

My head was a mess.

That brief piece of advice was causing me a lot of internal conflict.

The more conflicted I became, the harder I swung the axe.

-Thud!

First of all, who would give me such advice?

There was no one on this land who was on my side. They might not enjoy killing me themselves, but they wouldn’t try to save me.

Or were they afraid that if I died, my father would trample this land, so they decided to warn me?

...But my father wouldn’t ravage this land just for me.

He might be able to crush Rondor, but he wouldn’t confront the Delrum Kingdom beyond it.

If we and Rondor went to war again, it would mean mutual destruction.

My father wouldn’t make such a choice.

Of course, Rondor didn’t know this; only I, who knew my father’s character, had this information.

Or was it a spy from the Allen family trying to help me? That didn’t make sense.

If there had been such a plan, Father would have given me a hint before I left.

Next, the phrase “be careful with food” was ambiguous.

Was it warning me to be cautious because spoiled food might be served, or was someone really preparing to poison me?

The former seemed like a ridiculous paranoia, but with limited information, I couldn’t figure out anything.

And if it was hinting at poison, did it make sense for that information to reach me?

Such deeds would be prepared in utmost secrecy.

To make matters worse, I was part of the penal unit. It’s common practice to ladle food from a large pot into wooden bowls, one scoop at a time.

There was nothing to be cautious about.

Unless they planned to kill all the child soldiers in the penal unit, they couldn’t poison just me.

Even if they did, others would start collapsing one by one before me, making it unlikely that I’d consume the food.

“Sigh.”

I considered the possibility that the note was a prank.

Maybe someone did it just to add discomfort to my daily life.

“...”

...But still, it was quite unsettling to dismiss it as a mere prank. Especially since this was Rondor’s territory.

.

.

.

I carried the split firewood to the blacksmith’s forge.

Gulk, the head blacksmith there, nodded at me.

“Allen. You’re here. Leave the wood over there.”

-Rumble!

I dumped the wood from the cart and handed it over to the forge.

The blacksmith’s shop was already bustling with activity.

The interior was dimly lit, with only the blazing furnace that held the molten metal casting a reddish glow around.

Warm heat emanated all the way outside, pushing away the cold air.

At the center of the forge stood a massive bellows. An apprentice blacksmith, wiping sweat from his brow, was diligently pumping it for the senior blacksmiths.

The smell of burning metal mixed with charcoal smoke made the air thick.

But the items produced here were the very tools that sustained Rondor.

Farm tools, weapons, and various other implements.

Gulk, seemingly having some free time, approached me and asked,

“Quite the heat, isn’t it?”

He was one of the few who hadn’t witnessed my execution.

He was such an easygoing person that he didn’t pay much attention to others’ rumors.

Because of that, he was one of the few who didn’t harbor great hostility toward me.

“Yes, it is.”

I treated such people with courtesy as well.

I didn’t want to push away those who didn’t show me animosity.

I was already overwhelmed dealing with others.

I said,

“You seem quite busy.”

“It’s because of the march. We have to prepare everything before it starts.”

“The march?”

“You haven’t heard?”

Gulk looked surprised. Well, I had been busy resting by the river for the past month.

He explained,

“Lady Vivian has turned 14, so she’s decided to march around the territory. During that time, she’s planning to distribute farm tools and various implements to the residents free of charge—the very farm tools we’re making now.”

A march, huh?

An effort to reinforce her responsibility and authority as a ruler, I suppose.

The Allen family did that occasionally, too.

Especially when my younger siblings were born.

But more than anything, the purpose of this event was to manage the discontent of the territory’s residents.

In that sense, gifting farm tools was a good choice.

“Was the idea to distribute farm tools Vivian’s?”

“How would I know whose idea it was? But Lady Vivian herself came down and gave the orders. She’s so kind-hearted. It’s a pity she’s left all alone.”

“...But where did the iron come from?”

“They reduced unnecessary items in the castle. Things like iron candlesticks and tongs, you know. Oh, and they even pulled out some armor from the knight order to melt down.”

I looked at the forge where the heat was escaping.

Suddenly, I recalled Vivian’s words.

She said she’d make things difficult for me in a few days, didn’t she? I didn’t know how, but she said she’d torment me.

It’s probably because of this march.

I suppose she can’t help but use me then.

Humiliating me would alleviate the residents’ discontent more than distributing farm tools.

I could tell just by recalling the day I first arrived on this land.

“Master Gulk! Stop slacking off and come help!”

A blacksmith inside shouted in a gruff voice. Wrestling with smoke, most blacksmiths had throats that sounded phlegmy.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you!”

Gulk turned to me and said,

“Off you go now. Good work, Sir Allen.”

I nodded and was about to turn away when an uneasy feeling held me back.

“...Gulk?”

“What is it?”

-‘Be careful with food.’

The advice that kept resurfacing in my mind.

“Could you spare me a piece of charcoal?”

****

I entered the penal unit’s mess hall to have dinner.

Inside, it was already bustling with people energetically eating their meals.

I lined up behind those waiting to be served.

The boy in front of me glanced back and subtly distanced himself.

It was a familiar sense of alienation.

-Thump!

“Hey.”

Just then, someone tapped me on the back.

In the penal unit, there were exactly three people who would approach me:

Balon, Willas, and Martin.

Recently, Balon had lost a bit of weight due to the harsh training.

He said,

“We’ve been waiting for you. Where have you been?”

I could now even crack a slight smile when seeing them.

“Had some things to take care of.”

It was quite considerate of them to wait every time just to eat together, even when I hadn’t asked them to.

Being a noble myself, I didn’t have many friends my age.

Even if I did, there was always an unspoken hierarchy, so I couldn’t truly open up to anyone.

Perhaps that’s why I never fully understood the concept of friendship, but this trio was giving me a glimpse of it.

Willas shook his curly orange hair and pointed to my back pocket.

“Kylo, what’s that?”

These guys had recently started calling me by my name. I didn’t particularly mind.

I looked at what he was pointing at and replied,

“Charcoal.”

“Why are you carrying charcoal?”

“Thought I might need it.”

“Are you planning to draw or something?”

“Do I look like I would?”

“I heard all nobles can draw.”

“That’s more of a thing for the ladies.”

“So, does that mean Lady Vivian can draw too?”

I lightly scratched my neck.

If she had grown up as an ordinary noble lady, maybe?

But now that she’s busy being the head of the family, I don’t know if she has time for such things.

Unable to find an answer, I simply shrugged at Willas.

As the line moved forward, we prepared to receive our meals.

I watched today’s servers closely.

When it was my turn, I paid attention to see if they did anything unusual.

-Clack.

First, I received the wooden bowl.

“…”

I examined the inside carefully. If there was any liquid residue, I checked if it was sticky or if it was just water by touching it.

Martin watched me and commented,

“…You’ve been acting like that since yesterday?”

“...”

Ignoring that, I did the same when receiving the spoon.

Turning it over and over, I checked if there was anything that looked like poison on it.

Next was the food.

As the server scooped up the stuff I called “dog food” with the ladle, I watched carefully to see if they served me the same as the person before me.

Whether they added something extra or looked nervous when looking at me.

“…”

I couldn’t find any issues.

I took my meal and sat down at a random spot along the long table.

Willas, Balon, and Martin followed.

“You’ve been acting strange since yesterday,” Balon tilted his head.

“It’s not just since yesterday. He’s been weird since the execution,” Willas replied.

“That’s not what I mean. He’s been really odd since yesterday—smirking to himself, fiddling with his utensils.”

“…”

The smirking was probably because thoughts of Vivian came to mind, and fiddling with the utensils was, of course, due to concerns about poison.

I shook my head to dismiss their questions.

“Just drop it. Eat your food.”

As I tried to start eating… I couldn’t easily bring the spoon to my mouth.

I hesitated because of that small possibility.

I never imagined that not being able to eat comfortably would be such a significant inconvenience.

My appetite dwindled for no apparent reason.

Noticing my hesitation, Balon spoke up.

“…If you’re not going to eat that, give it to me.”

“I’m eating.”

I scooped up some food and put it into my mouth. It was only after a few more spoonfuls that I could erase the suspicion that it wasn’t poisoned.

As we continued our meal, Martin nudged my arm with his elbow.

“Hey, Kylo. Did you hear?”

“…?”

“In about ten days, there’s going to be a march around the territory. Our penal unit is included.”

Willas gave Martin a poke.

“As if Kylo wouldn’t know that. He’s the one who’s going to get cursed at the most during that march.”

Ignoring Willas, I backed up Martin.

“No, I just found out today.”

Realizing he might have said something insensitive, Martin looked flustered.

Since it wasn’t his fault, I asked, “So, what’s up?”

“Uh… I was going to ask if touring the territory soon might be fun. But now that I think about it, maybe not for you.”

Balon sighed as well.

“Do you think I’ll get to see my younger siblings? It’d be nice if I could chat with them a bit.”

Willas, perhaps unwilling to talk about family, quickly changed the subject.

“By the way, what’s the point of this march anyway?”

I replied indifferently, “Honestly, doing it now is late.”

“Why?”

“…Because the head of the family changed, but she hasn’t shown her face to the residents even once. Maybe that’s why she’s still pathetically being ignored and disrespected.”

Willas, watching the mood, said, “…Saying she’s living pathetically is your opinion, right? Don’t drag us into it.”

I didn’t respond.

“Anyway, so this march is an event to make sure the people of Roctana know who Rondor’s lord is?”

“That’s part of it…”

Hmm?

“…”

It was an obvious statement, but something was nagging in my mind.

What was it? The fleeting thought was too faint to grasp.

“…Kylo?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Yeah, that’s what it is.”

***

I tried my best, but I left some food uneaten.

Even knowing there was no poison, the mere possibility unsettled my stomach, and I had no appetite.

Today, that human feed tasted even worse than usual.

Unable to shake off the lingering unease, I headed into Rondor’s castle.

I was looking for the maid who had given me the note.

I didn’t know if she’d be there.

Even if I found her, I doubted she’d provide any answers.

But taking action, even just this much, put my mind at ease.

As I wandered the castle, I ran into some of Rondor’s retainers.

“…So, to Count Kerrod—”

“—Br-Brynden, sir.”

Brynden, who had been conversing with a maid, cleared his throat and stopped talking upon seeing me.

He patted the maid’s shoulder and said, “Anyway, just relay it like that.”

Then, like cockroaches scattering, the treasurer vacated the area.

Nestor, the intelligence officer, reacted similarly upon seeing me.

“…Reporting, perhaps… Oh, Kylo Allen. Do you have a habit of eavesdropping on others’ conversations?”

“…Were you having a discussion you didn’t want overheard?”

“I simply don’t wish to pass any information to the Allen family.”

After that, knights, guards, maids—they all reacted the same way when they saw me.

Whenever they saw me, they all clammed up.

As Nestor had mentioned, perhaps it was because I was an outsider and from the Allen family.

But beyond that, there was an unsettling atmosphere.

Vivian’s retainers all seemed to carry a meaningful air.

“Kylo Allen.”

Just then, a familiar voice called out.

It was Vivian. She raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised to see me wandering around the castle.

“...What are you doing here?”

Seeing her among the retainers, she appeared even more isolated.

Feeling awkward about starting to pity her again, I was about to make an excuse and leave... but since it had come to this, I spoke to her.

“I’m looking for a maid. Can you help me?”

“...A maid?”

Vivian looked at me incredulously and asked again.

“You keep misunderstanding... Don’t you know there’s no one here you can command?”

“It’s not that; I have something to ask... Never mind.”

Seeing the look on her face, I realized there was no point in saying more.

As I passed by her without hesitation, Vivian shook her head and continued on her way.

“Sigh.”

But once again, the contents of the note flashed through my mind, holding me back.

“...Hey.”

At my informal address, she frowned slightly and turned around.

Should I ask her? No matter how I think about it, I feel like I’m overthinking.

“...You...”

As I hesitated, unable to speak, Vivian urged me.

“Say it.”

In the end, I asked tentatively.

“You’re... eating properly, right?”

“What?”

Vivian looked at me as if she were staring at a bug.

Her expression twisted oddly as if she were misunderstanding something.

“...Allen, are you perhaps misunderstanding our relationship or—”

“—Forget it, never mind. I said something unnecessary.”

Disliking the atmosphere, I waved my hand dismissively and left.

Behind me, Vivian muttered, “What the...?” sounding bewildered.

Well.

I was the one who received the note; why was I worrying about her meals?

Unlike me, she eats under the devoted care of her maids, no matter what.

As for whether her food is poisoned or not, she would already be filtering that out.

Shaking my head, I erased those strange assumptions from my mind.

It was better to focus on taking care of myself.

– – – The End of The Chapter – – –

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