Chapter 123
As Ibi stared blankly into the forest, Irene followed her gaze.
But the summer night forest was quiet, with nothing particularly unusual about it.
“What’s wrong?”
“I hear something.”
“A sound? What kind of sound…?”
“Um… it’s like… something is calling.”
At Ibi’s words, Irene’s face turned pale.
“What? A ghost?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We don’t have anything like that in the forests of our territory.”
Even as Ruska scolded Irene, he turned his ears toward the direction Ibi was looking.
But aside from the wind and the chirping of insects, he couldn’t hear anything unusual.
As all three stood there listening quietly, Ruska’s older brothers looked over, wondering if something had happened.
“Ibi says she hears something coming from the forest.”
“Really?”
At those words, the brothers also walked closer to the forest and listened carefully, but they couldn’t hear anything strange.
“I can hear animal footsteps or the occasional low growl, but nothing unusual.”
The brothers still weren’t affiliated with any particular order and remained in the family as apprentice knights.
Even so, each of them was skilled enough to join a famous knight order at any moment without embarrassment.
They were extremely sensitive to presences and possessed excellent hearing, yet none of them noticed anything odd.
Even so, Ibi couldn’t take her eyes off the forest.
“Here, eat this first.”
Ruska, who had been rolling tiny potatoes around on the iron griddle, scooped them up and placed them into the bowl in front of Ibi.
Piercing one of the buttery, fragrant potatoes with a fork, Ibi blew on it before taking a big bite.
“Ah… hot…!”
As she chewed, the fluffy texture of the perfectly cooked potato filled her mouth, along with the rich butter, a hint of sweetness, and its savory flavor.
“It’s delicious! It’s sweet!”
“Right? It’s really easy to make, but it’s amazingly good.”
As Ibi’s eyes widened, Ruska proudly shrugged.
Then he placed another serving of potatoes in front of Irene.
“I don’t really like sweet potatoes…”
“I didn’t put sugar in yours. Try it.”
Irene looked at Ruska suspiciously before cautiously taking a bite.
“Oh… you’re right.”
Unlike Ibi’s, Irene’s potatoes simply had a little extra salt instead of sugar.
“You’ll happily eat cake, but you really hate it when potatoes or vegetables taste sweet.”
“What? How did you know?”
“How could I not? You barely touch them. It’d be strange if I didn’t notice.”
“…”
She had thought she’d hidden that habit well enough that even her parents rarely noticed.
Yet Ruska had seen right through her.
He’s scary.
Irene glared at Ruska and silently resolved to be more careful around him.
Still, the potatoes were delicious.
Normally, after dinner everyone would chat and play before heading back to their tents when it got late enough.
But tonight was their last night here, and no one wanted to leave the campfire.
Even the apprentice knights had heard the news and gathered around, making the area around the tents as crowded as the training grounds during the day.
Naturally, the apprentice knights…
“Go for the neck! The neck!”
“Sweep his legs!”
…split into teams and started holding mock matches under the guise of sparring.
Elsewhere, they would have gambled money.
But the Marquess Ragxelve family was extremely strict about that sort of thing.
So the apprentice knights had to wager something else instead.
“Tomorrow’s ice cream depends on you! Do your best!”
“If you beat him, ten eggs are waiting for you!”
For a family renowned as the Empire’s greatest house of knights, the stakes were surprisingly humble.
Then Ain, the eldest of the brothers, shouted,
“The winner gets a steak grilled by Ruska!”
“Woooo!”
As cheers erupted, Ruska shouted, “Who decided that?!” but no one paid him any attention.
Meanwhile, Ibi, Irene, and Arsel stood beside the campfire, skewering the fish they had caught while fishing earlier that day.
Seeing that, Ruska clicked his tongue, saying that wasn’t enough, then brought over salt and pepper.
Ignoring the heat, he sprinkled the seasonings generously over the fish.
“There. They should be cooked now.”
He handed one to Ibi.
She carefully tore off a piece of the thickest meat and smiled happily.
“I still want to live with Ruska.”
The moment those words left her mouth, Arsel’s hands, which had been preparing another fish, stopped.
“…Ibi, House Kaylen has plenty of fish too.”
Ruska immediately stuck out his tongue teasingly.
“Hmph. People can’t live on fish alone. You’ve tasted the milk, cheese, and butter from our ranch. You know how amazing they are.”
“Our family’s ranch is excellent too.”
They were long past the age where children argued about whose home was better.
Yet the two of them still bickered over whose family’s ranch, orchard, fields, river, and everything else was superior.
Finally, as though determined to settle the matter, Ruska declared confidently,
“So what? I’m the one who can actually make all that food taste good. Right, Ibi? So just keep living at our house.”
Normally he would have shown at least a little consideration.
But this time he boldly said it.
As he spoke, he pulled a lightly toasted marshmallow from the fire and gently placed it into Ibi’s mouth.
The warm, sweet, soft marshmallow filled her mouth, leaving Ibi too busy blowing on it to answer.
Without realizing it, she simply nodded.
The headmistress at the orphanage used to tell me to be careful of people who keep giving you delicious food…
Eh, whatever. Ruska’s different.
Thinking that, Ibi happily accepted another marshmallow from Ruska and popped it into her mouth.
Watching her, Ruska smiled like a victorious champion.
“See? If you can’t beat me, then stay quiet.”
At those words, sparks seemed to flash in Arsel’s eyes, who until then had remained silent.
Unlike Arsel, Ruska himself was surprised by what he’d just said.
Have I ever talked like that in front of Arsel before?
People had always considered Arsel the superior one.
So before anyone else could say it, Ruska himself would always praise Arsel.
That way, others wouldn’t feel awkward or worry about hurting his feelings.
Eventually, he’d naturally come to think of himself as inferior to Arsel.
Yet just now…
He had confidently declared that he was better.
Just then, the second brother, Eric, grinned as he stepped between Arsel and Ruska.
“What’s this atmosphere? Sparks are flying!”
Irene answered with a look of exasperation.
“They’re arguing over who’s better.”
“Really? Then let’s settle it the manly way.”
Turning around, Eric shouted to the apprentice knights gathered around the campfire.
“Hey! Ruska and Arsel are going to fight!”
Everyone gathered in a circle around the campfire.
Naturally, in the center stood Arsel and Ruska, sleeves rolled up, preparing for a wrestling match.
“Ruska! If you lose, you can’t call yourself a Ragxelve!”
At what sounded somewhere between encouragement and a threat from his brothers, Ruska frowned.
Honestly, almost everyone was cheering for Ruska.
It couldn’t be helped.
This was the Ragxelve estate.
Cheering for Ruska, the Marquess’s son, was only natural.
Anyone would feel intimidated when the entire crowd overwhelmingly supported the other side.
Yet Arsel didn’t show even the slightest sign of nervousness.
Looking around, Ibi suddenly trotted over and sat beside the clothes Arsel had taken off.
“Huh? Ibi?”
Just moments ago, Ruska had stuffed her cheeks full of marshmallows, so he’d naturally assumed she’d be on his side.
“Ibiii! You said you wanted to live at our house!”
“Hehe… that’s true. But Arsel doesn’t have many people cheering for him right now, so I’ll cheer for Arsel instead. And…”
She beckoned Arsel closer with a small gesture, asking him to lend her his ear.
As Arsel leaned down, her tiny hand touched his ear.
Then, accompanied by the warmth of her breath, she whispered in a voice so soft it was clearly meant to be a secret.
“I like Ruska… but I like Arsel too.”
So that was what she’d wanted to say so badly.
Arsel chuckled softly and nodded.
Then, deliberately raising his voice so Ruska could hear, he said,
“If Ibi says that much, then I definitely have to win.”
“What? What did Ibi say?”
“Why would I tell you? Finished warming up? Let’s start.”
“Hey! That’s not fair!”
Watching Ruska stomp around in frustration, Irene quietly walked over to Ibi.
“Ibi, what did you really say?”
“Well… I just said… that I like Arsel too…”
Tilting her head, wondering if she’d said something wrong, Ibi looked confused.
Irene burst into laughter and hugged her.
“Our Ibi really has a lot to answer for. Let those idiots fight it out themselves.”
As she spoke, Irene placed the marshmallows she’d brought into Ibi’s hands.
On Irene’s face was an even more arrogant smile of victory than anyone else’s.
Finally, Arsel and Ruska’s match began.
Twenty minutes later…
“Those stubborn idiots…”
Eric shook his head as he looked at the two boys, both glaring at each other while panting heavily.
Most people couldn’t keep up a wrestling match for more than five minutes.
Yet these two, determined never to lose, continued glaring at one another without either of them falling.
Seriously… what on earth are these two making such a fuss over?
