Youngest 026
by Cristae26
After returning from my outing, I dove straight onto the bed.
“Whew… That was some good shopping.”
“My, you bought an awful lot, didn’t you?”
Hazel’s eyes grew round as she looked at the boxes being brought in one after another.
“Yeah. Come, take a look!”
“These look like magic stones… and these?”
“Oh, those are herbs!”
I rushed over and eagerly explained the herbs I’d bought to Hazel.
After the ore shop, my next stop had been the herb shop. Since I’d checked the map and planned my route in advance, I’d achieved all my goals.
Especially here, where many kinds of herbs grew even in winter—it was a delight just to browse!
“There are seeds, too?”
“The owner said I should plant them when it gets warmer.”
“On the master’s advice?”
“Yup!”
Since then, Leviathan kept asking if there was anything more I needed or wanted, interrogating me to the tiniest detail.
Thanks to that, I got everything I wanted… but suddenly, I grew worried that he might have spent too much money today.
But no, no—riches last three generations, even in misfortune.
‘Still, I should hold back from asking for more from now on.’
Not that I have anything else I need, anyway… probably?
“But the clothes? Is it really just these?”
Hazel’s expression turned a little discontented as she pointed to the twenty boxes.
“Just…?”
Had I chosen the wrong word?
When I returned to the tailor’s shop, more than twenty outfits were ready. I was astonished, yet Leviathan’s reaction had been exactly like Hazel’s now.
“It can’t be helped. Anything lacking, we’ll order from Madam Evelyn.”
What could possibly be missing?
“We can just put in another order when Madam Evelyn visits!” Hazel added brightly, clapping her hands.
I had plenty to say, but chose not to…
Pushing the clothing boxes aside, I opened the herb box to check their condition.
Fresh, green, vibrant. Very nice.
“Hazel, could you cut this cloth for me?”
“Cloth?”
“Yeah. I need it for something…”
At that, Hazel’s eyes lit up in delight.
“Are you making some of that ointment for the knights?”
“Mm, something like that.”
I squatted before the box and picked out a few herbs.
“Anyway, could you cut the cloth?”
“Of course! I’m quite skilled with a knife, you know.”
Her taut muscles quivered as if excited.
At this point, I began to wonder about Hazel’s past—but better let sleeping dogs lie.
“With scissors, gently.”
“In the end, a blade is a blade.”
Definitely no letting Hazel near my hair!
“What size should I cut?”
“About this big. Enough to wrap around a knee.”
“A knee?” she echoed, a little doubtfully. I nodded.
“Right, leave it to me.”
After asking her to fetch a few more tools, I carefully selected the herbs.
A fragrant freshness quickly filled the room.
The Northern Annex. Balok’s bedroom.
Butler Morris closed the window with a snap.
Night had fallen completely outside.
A faint smoke filled the room—the vapor from a pain-relieving medicine.
“…Did the child settle in all right?”
The voice, low and subdued, came from the gloom of the bedroom. Balok sat askew on the broad bed.
With the lamp only faintly burning, he looked like a black mountain.
“Yes. She’s had dinner and is resting well.”
“Did she remember to take her allowance pouch?”
“She seemed to be having some trouble dragging it along after her, but yes—she was pleased.”
Morris recalled the child’s stricken face when he handed over the pouch.
“Tsk, tsk. Stopped by the herb shop, too, I heard. Why didn’t she buy the whole store? Hands that small suit a bean sprout.”
“Most eight-year-olds do not own several shops, Your Excellency.”
“Then?”
Morris hesitated before answering.
“Well, perhaps one or two…?”
Thinking of that soft silver hair, the corners of his mouth involuntarily loosened.
Those perceptive yet defiantly spirited eyes.
When confronted by them, there’s just this urge to take care of her.
“Well, Miss Rubian could certainly have three or four more.”
“Exactly! See? One shop isn’t nearly enough!”
Balok tried to rise, only to stifle a groan.
“Ugh.”
Damn this body. Damn it, damn it.
A string of coarse curses followed.
A look of deep concern crossed his old lieutenant’s face.
“…Your Excellency, perhaps you should let the physician examine you for once—”
“Silence. I’m not the least bit ill.”
“But earlier you lost your balance and fell…”
“I said silence!”
The air trembled with his outburst.
Clang! Unable to withstand the furious aura, the lamp’s glass shattered. The window rattled violently.
Black, surging aura.
Wiping his brow, Morris retreated.
“…Very well, please calm yourself. That was presumptuous of me.”
Balok flung the covers over himself and sprawled out.
“Wretched body. To think I can’t even catch a scrap like that…”
As words of deep bitterness and regret slipped out, Morris quietly tidied the broken lamp.
“Leave me. I intend to sleep.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Click. Morris closed the door softly.
In his younger days, Balok Zevert had been a knight of unmatched vigor. But wounds sustained in battle had left his leg permanently impaired.
Most days he managed, but when the pain flared like this, there existed no true remedy. It would begin in his leg and tend to radiate throughout his whole body.
He might not show it, but the frequency of these attacks had grown of late.
‘He must have put weight on his injured leg again and fallen earlier today.’
Such things stung that irascible man’s pride deeply.
‘What am I to do with him…’
Balok still couldn’t accept his weakened body.
His injury had prevented him from fighting in the Human–Dark Beast War—a humiliation no northern knight could easily bear.
From this, Balok had grown somewhat defensive. His self-imposed seclusion in the remote annex and cold demeanor toward others were his smokescreen—an attempt to conceal weakness.
“Butler?”
Morris paused, halfway down the stairs.
“…Miss Rubian?”
There in the annex lobby, a child was standing.
“How in the world did you get here? The way from the main building is rather rough.”
“Hazel brought me!”
A bright voice spilled into the dark room like light.
Morris glanced briefly at Hazel, standing behind Rubian.
As if already thoroughly captivated by the little one, the once-legendary masked mercenary furtively averted her gaze.
“And Mister? Is he sleeping?”
“Yes, he’s resting. Perhaps it’s best if you return for today…”
“Could I just see him for a moment before I go?”
Morris hesitated.
Balok was in a foul mood, his physical state no better.
‘He wouldn’t want the child to see him like this…’
He really should just say it was impossible…
“It’ll only take a moment!”
Eyes sparkling, wide and pleading.
“Please!”
“…Very well, I will accompany you.”
If he grew stormy at their entrance, at least Morris would be quick to spirit her out.
Morris led Rubian to the bedroom.
Creak. The door opened softly.
Inside, there was the even sound of breathing.
It seemed Balok, unwell as he was, had dozed off.
“Shhh.”
As she passed over the threshold, Rubian pressed a finger to her lips with commendable composure.
Morris gazed silently at the round head glinting with silver.
…Indeed, three or four shops wouldn’t be enough for her.
The child crept quietly toward the bed and set something on the floor.
“What is that?”
“Oh, it’s cloth with ointment spread inside. If you use it, it’s incredibly cooling and soothing. It’s made from the herbs I bought today, so I’m not sure how good it is, but…”
A thin cloth smeared with pale green ointment.
‘Wasn’t she the healer’s daughter…?’
Morris simply watched as the child set about her work.
She carefully climbed up and rolled up Balok’s trousers. For quite some time after, she busied herself.
Fast asleep, Balok simply kicked at the covers and snored softly.
“You knew His Excellency had trouble with his knee?”
“Yes.”
“How in the world…”