“Wasn’t it?”
The butler responded with a calm smile. I shook my head at his growing audacity.
“Ugh, don’t tell me he skipped breakfast too?”
“Yes.”
I rubbed my temples. My relationship with Father had improved over time. We had more conversations, and though subtle, we expressed emotions more openly than before—a remarkable change.
But I’d also learned his flaws. Father was a true workaholic, sleeping little and often skipping meals. It was a miracle he’d stayed so healthy.
All thanks to the butler, no doubt.
Serving as Father’s personal secretary, the butler had skillfully managed his habits all this time.
The problem is he’s starting to push it onto me.
As if reading my thoughts, his smile deepened.
“What shall we do?”
His intent was obvious, but I didn’t mind. His efforts had helped mend my bond with Father.
“Tell Father I’d like to dine with him.”
“Understood.”
As the butler left, I turned back to the sparring men. Unlike Evan, who hadn’t broken a sweat, steam rose from Rant’s exhausted body.
“Haa… haa…”
His heavy breathing and slowing movements signaled the duel’s end.
“Ugh!”
Sure enough, Rant collapsed with a groan. Evan swiftly sheathed his sword and offered a hand.
“You leave your lower body open during big attacks. You’d benefit from strengthening it.”
“Thank you!”
Rant grasped Evan’s hand, standing with a spirited reply.
“You lasted longer than last time,” Evan noted.
Oblivious to his audience, Rant spun around, startled, then broke into a bright grin upon seeing me.
“Sis!”
He bounded over.
“Why are you out here in the cold?”
“Keeping an eye on my puppy’s progress,” I teased, pinching his cheeks with a smile. Their soft, chilly texture felt like sticky rice cakes.
“D-Don’t do that,” he mumbled, his stretched cheeks garbling his words. But his worried eyes spoke clearly enough.
“I’m not so frail as to catch a cold from this. I’ve got a thick coat.”
I tapped the coat, and he relaxed. Releasing his cheeks, I said, “I’m more worried about you.”
Brushing back his sweat-soaked hair, I smiled as he grinned sheepishly.
“Go wash up before you catch a cold.”
“Yes!”
He spun around, darting to Evan.
“Thank you for your time. I learned a lot.”
Rant bowed deeply, his earnestness endearing. Evan’s lips curved into a gentle smile—he wasn’t the only one impressed.
“I enjoyed it too, young master.”
Rant bowed again, then dashed inside, his steps lively. Once he was gone, I turned to Evan and bowed.
“Sorry for asking so much of you right after your recovery.”
“Not at all. It was good to loosen up,” he said, smiling faintly.
His injury had healed faster than expected, but Anasha had stopped him from diving back into guild work.
“You need rest. Overworking now will haunt you later,” she’d scolded, wagging her finger like a worried sister.
Under her watchful eye, I’d made Evan an offer he couldn’t refuse: “Would you train my brother in swordsmanship?”
I knew Rant had taken to sparring lately. While our knights could teach him, I wanted him exposed to other styles. Evan, versed in House Pison’s techniques and skills honed traveling with Grandfather, was perfect.
I’d asked him to train Rant whenever possible, and he’d agreed readily.
“How did he do, in your eyes?”
“Physically, he’s impeccable—strength, agility, all there. He lacks experience, but his foundation is solid, so that’s just a matter of time. Above all, his effort and focus are remarkable.”
Evan’s praise brought a proud smile to my face. Knowing others saw Rant’s potential was more satisfying than I’d expected.
“He’d be thrilled to hear that. If you’re free later, would you join us for a meal?”
He looked at me quietly, and I added with a laugh, “Rant would love it.”
“…Alright.”
He nodded, a beat late.
Clink.
The clatter of cutlery punctuated the heavy silence. The maids moved soundlessly, barely breathing as they served.
“Let’s eat, everyone. Rant, dig in.”
“Yes, Sis.”
Rant, who’d been glaring at Sys with narrowed eyes, grabbed his spoon eagerly.
Silence returned, stretching through the appetizer and soup, only breaking when the main course arrived.
Rant shoveled food while sneaking glares at Sys, who picked at his plate with a stiff expression. Father ate quietly but radiated subtle displeasure. Evan, stone-faced, betrayed no thoughts. I stifled a sigh.
How did it come to this?
I hadn’t anticipated this awkward scene when I’d nagged Rant, still dripping from his rushed bath, on our way to the dining room. Not until I saw Sys and Father in a tense standoff.
“I heard you dislike spicy food, so I asked for something mild. Is it to your taste, Evan?”
“It’s the best I’ve had in a while.”
“Good to hear.”
I spoke to Evan to ease the tension. He was my guest, and it was my duty to ensure his comfort.
“Not asking me?” Sys interjected, his tone sharp, his face practically screaming I’m annoyed.
I stifled a laugh at his childishness. Back then, he’d never stooped to such petty squabbles. But I preferred this Sys—perhaps because I’d changed too.
“Is the food not to your liking?” I asked.
“It’s not the food—it’s the company,” he replied, his golden eyes glaring at Evan with open displeasure.
I shrugged, letting his petulance slide.
He gets so prickly around Evan.
Sys was my fiancé, Evan my knight—both tied to me inextricably. They’d cross paths often, like today. I didn’t expect them to be friends, but I wished they’d stop growling at each other.
Though Evan said nothing, I sensed his own guarded hostility toward Sys. The tension between them gave me a headache.
Evan’s no saint. He can’t be expected to stay kind to someone who’s openly hostile.
“Guildmaster, can I ask a favor?”
Rant’s sudden request startled both Evan and me. Rant rarely asked for anything, making his words all the more surprising.
“Speak, young master,” Evan said.
“Can I call you Brother?”
“…!”
Evan’s eyes widened. I didn’t need a mirror to know my expression matched his.
“Is that not okay?”
