Youngest 019
by CristaeAs I pouted in silence, Lord Zevert clicked his tongue.
Suddenly, his sharp gaze swung to the butler standing behind me.
“Morris! Didn’t you say the meal was over? You should have mentioned she was in the middle of her snack! Even a dog’s not disturbed while eating!”
“I… I failed to consider Lady Rubian’s snack schedule, my lord.”
Drip, drip. I could almost hear the sound of Butler Morris’s sweat hitting the floor.
“What are you standing around for!”
I creaked as I reached for the fork.
I glanced sideways, but Mister, who had been quietly tidying his expression, only arched one eyebrow.
‘So you’re not going to save me.’
Just you wait—I’ll get my revenge.
The more I looked over the snack table, the more my face fell into a frown.
“What’s with that expression?”
After all my spirited defiance, I now sat with lips pressed together, staring at the floor, making Lord Zevert pause for the first time.
“W-what, is something wrong…?”
“The table…”
“Hmm?”
“It’s broken…”
All that stood before me was a solid wood table split down the middle.
“Huh? When did this happen?”
“How am I supposed to eat when there’s nothing left…?”
I grew a bit downcast.
My mug had fallen through a crevice, pink liquid soaking into the floor.
Truth was, I liked strawberry milk even more than cake. Sweet, cold, bits of real fruit…
“…I really liked it.”
“Mm…”
“I didn’t even get a single drop…”
I hadn’t realized, but my shoulders drooped.
There’d been more fresh strawberries today than yesterday, too… Such a waste…
‘Wait.’
Was this supposed to be Lord Zevert’s version of a mental strength test?
Don’t cling to things that are lost?
Of course not.
In the end, Lord Zevert’s resounding command saw every strawberry in the castle blended into milk…
‘Truly unpredictable…’
I gazed at the enormous pitcher of strawberry milk, doing my best to settle my emotions.
“Is that enough?”
Lord Zevert’s growl rolled over me.
All he had done was plant himself in the middle of the sitting room, and yet his presence filled the space. The whole room felt cramped…
“Yes, yes. Thank you.”
I fidgeted with my mug as I answered.
Honestly, I couldn’t even tell if this was going into my mouth or up my nose.
“Hmph.”
At last, his plush beard wiggled in satisfaction.
Sneaking glances around, I finally spoke up carefully.
“But what about Mister?”
“He went to the northern outpost! Said there were signs of magical beasts.”
“Gosh.”
So he’d abandoned me to the mercies of this cranky old man and run off?!
“Are you scared at the mention of magical beasts? A little rabbit like you would be just a snack, you know.”
Lord Zevert seemed certain my nervousness was because of magical beasts.
‘At least magical beasts won’t kick me out of this house!’
And they certainly wouldn’t burst in by smashing doors with their fists!
Setting my mug down with a thud, I declared confidently,
“Yes! I’m a little scared!”
“……”
“So I can stay here, right?”
I tried for the most pleading look I could manage, shining eyes and all.
Lord Zevert, backlit by the window, stiffened abruptly.
I couldn’t make out his expression, but deep creases marked the elegant wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
I remembered Mister’s earlier advice.
“Just hang on tight and don’t let go. Like you did with me earlier.”
Would this really work?
What if being pitiful only got me kicked harder?
“If… you’re scared, of course you should stay!”
Amazingly, it worked.
“I’m not such trash I’d throw out a child crying in fear!”
I hadn’t actually cried, but—
‘Seems he’s weak to kids acting vulnerable.’
Mister seemed a bit like that, too. Maybe it’s a family trait?
I decided to drive the point home.
I jumped to my feet and wedged myself stubbornly onto the big sofa right beside Lord Zevert.
A two-seater, but entirely too small for both of us?
“Yes. So I’ll just stay right here. It’s scary outside…”
Oops—ah!
The sofa shook with a tremor like an earthquake.
“Wriggling like that, you’re driving me mad with the itch!”
“Ah, if I’m making you uncomfortable, I’ll just—”
“Well, can’t be helped!”
“Eek!”
Suddenly, a huge hand seized me by the scruff. I landed on a thigh as solid as a boulder.
Our eyes met at close range.
His thick eyebrows arched at entirely different angles. Deep, rugged lines fanned from cold and frosty violet eyes. Beneath the well-kept beard, an old scar drew the eye.
“…Even your look is scratchy and itch-inducing.”
Just as I’d stared at Lord Zevert, he was meticulously observing me.
One eyebrow shot up even higher.
“Are you really a boy? Why are you so different from Void and Liam?”
Well… because I just am?
Of course, I couldn’t say that aloud, so I fended it off with a sheepish smile.
“But what on earth are you wearing? A potato sack?”
“These are my clothes.”
“Bah.”
A voice as if he’d witnessed something deeply distasteful.
Lord Zevert jerked his chin at Hazel, who was standing nearby.
“You! Go count how many times these sleeves have been folded!”
Hazel replied evenly,
“Please calm yourself, Lord Balok. Lady Eveline is coming in three days to take measurements. She’s currently away on business.”
“Three days? So does this snot-nose have to live in a potato sack for three days?!”
“It’s really not that bad. I’m fine!”
Not wanting trouble for Hazel, I rushed to clarify—though I was promptly ignored.
Too long in the sleeve and baggy, but it wasn’t unwearable.
It’s not like I’d be here forever, after all—not enough reason to cause more trouble.
Lord Zevert grumbled for a long while.
Something about his own son, something about how things would have been different if Rose were here…
“I can’t stand it! Morris! When’s that new weapon from our forge going to be finished?”
“It’s been some time since you submitted the design… It shouldn’t be long now.”
“Good. You—come with me tomorrow.”
“Huh, why?”
Lord Zevert shouted as he folded my quadruple-cuffed sleeve one more time.
“Can’t leave you in this potato sack!”
“You’re going to buy me clothes? For me?”
“Is there another little pipsqueak here?”
“You said you’d kick me out at first…”
“And I will kick you out!”
“What? But you said if I was scared, I could stay!”
“Ah, I take it back! I can’t stand this itch for another second!”
What was it with this old man and his stormy moods?
Enough of pretending to be weak! Forget it!
“Why buy me clothes if you’re going to throw me out?”
“I’ll dress you up in new clothes! Make you presentable, then send you packing!”
“That doesn’t make any sense!”
“And yet here we are!”
“Stubborn old geezer, you’re so capricious!”
“You realized that already? Quick-witted and clever, are you?”
People all around were watching us with curious eyes.
‘Like father, like son, apparently!’
Either way, the quarreling left my throat parched. As I reached for my mug—
Suddenly, my head felt strangely light.
Turning, I saw a thick palm hastily withdraw from the back of my head.
“……”
An unrepentant, feigning-innocence old lion.
What was with him… really…
Just then.
[ ……! ]
A crackling, buzzing noise rang in my mind.
“…What’s wrong?”
[ ……bi! ]
“Snot-nose!”
Apparently, I’d staggered slightly. Lord Zevert shot up and grabbed my shoulder.
[ Ruby. Ruby. Are you there? ]
‘Khalid?’
I pressed beside my ear, and the static cleared.
It was Khalid!
“M-my stomach aches a bit…”
“What’s this now?”
“I need the restroom!”
With that, I bolted from the sitting room.
I could faintly hear a cry of, “Child!” from behind, but that was the least of my worries now.
“Lady Rubian?”
“J-just a minute, I need to be alone!”
Slam.
I shut the bedroom door in the startled Hazel’s face.
Pressing the emblem again, the crackling static stopped immediately.
‘Khalid Riorc! After blocking me so thoroughly, are you trying to get yourself killed?’
[ I told you to stop using honorifics… That’s not the point. You’re in the north, at Zelox, aren’t you? ]
‘Don’t change the subject! I’m not telling.’
[ The King of Arcane seems to have realized you’re alive and that you’ve gone to the Babylon Empire. ]
‘Huh?’
What?
I froze in the center of the room.
The Mage King… had found my trail?