Noticing Lionel’s disappointment, the child panicked and blurted out whatever came to mind.
“N-no, it’s not that! I like it so much. But it’s too good for me to have. I-I have no reason to receive such a nice th-thing from the Young Master.”
How tiresome.
‘She could just take it when I’m giving it to her. Do I have to spoon-feed her everything one by one?’
Lionel pulled out a suitably plausible reason.
“It’s fine. We’re friends, aren’t we? I think I can give a friend this much.”
“F-f-friends?”
The child, clutching the bundle of paper as big as her own torso, wore a dazed look.
“Yes.”
“Th-the Young Master and m-me are f-friends?”
“I naturally thought we were friends. Are we not? I’m a little hurt.”
Lionel bowed his head with a sad face. It was a thoroughly deliberate act meant to induce guilt in the other party.
Sure enough, the child quickly opened her mouth.
“Y-y-yes. F-friends is good. We’re friends, definitely friends.”
Lionel quickly raised his head and smiled at the child.
The stammering child’s face flushed red like a beet.
A shy smile filled the child’s face.
“Then you’ll accept this, right? It’s a commemoration of becoming friends.”
“B-but this is too m-much for me……”
The child bowed her head and waved her hands.
The tattered sleeve ends fluttered pitifully along with her tiny hands.
It was certainly an expensive item for the child to have.
But what did it matter? If she did not take it, it would be thrown away anyway.
Lionel pressed the fountain pen on the child with the feeling of giving charity.
“What does that matter between friends? I’m giving it because I want to. Go on, take it.”
At Lionel’s meltingly kind urging, the child finally nodded reluctantly.
***
Having finished training, Lionel wiped his sweat and took the water a servant politely offered, drinking it down.
His Adam’s apple bobbed vigorously as he emptied the canteen in an instant.
As the weather gradually grew warmer, the sweat Lionel produced increased exponentially.
The sweat that mingled with dust and clung to his body was utterly unpleasant.
They said that once one reached a high level, one could wield a sword without breaking a sweat, but with his current skill, that was a distant tale.
After handing the sweat towel and empty canteen to the servant, he saw a lavish carriage in the distance enter through the main gate and stop before the mansion.
Judging by the silver-white body made of aspen wood with lily patterns intricately engraved, it was unmistakably the carriage of the Lowellin Count’s household.
Lionel asked the servant standing beside him.
“Was the Lowellin Count scheduled to visit today?”
“Yes. The kitchen is in complete chaos preparing a late luncheon right now.”
“I see.”
Lionel narrowed his eyes and looked at the carriage standing before the mansion.
The Lowellin Count stepped down from the carriage, and following him, the Count’s daughter, Sasha, appeared in a dress with delicate lace trim.
Sasha was quite a troublesome opponent. She was of a completely different mold from his current playmate, with whom he could spend quiet and peaceful time.
Sasha would undoubtedly throw a tantrum to be allowed to meet him. Just thinking about how exhausting it would be to deal with her made him tired already.
He had grown too accustomed to his playmate, who behaved herself so well.
Speak of the devil—just then, he spotted his playmate passing by the training grounds.
It seemed today was the day he spent time with his playmate.
He did not want his leisurely afternoon interrupted by Sasha.
Lionel tried to call out the child’s name to stop her, but he simply could not remember it.
Only then did it occur to him that he had never even exchanged names with her.
‘I should have at least asked her name.’
Lionel ran across the training grounds and quickly caught up with the child.
When he lightly tapped her shoulder, the child turned around with wide eyes.
Her wheat-colored hair, splayed out haphazardly, scattered in all directions.
“Follow me. Let’s play somewhere else today.”
“Y-Young Master?”
The child’s startled voice rang out behind him belatedly.
Lionel strode ahead, leading the child.
He intended to hide quietly in their hideout until Sasha left the mansion.
He knew that even if he disappeared, the mansion’s servants would not come looking for him.
Before long, the two stood at the entrance of a small forest behind the Eduard mansion.
If one went inward from the forest’s edge, there was a not-so-high cliff, and there was a small, shallow cave where three or four adults could barely hide themselves.
It was a space that belonged only to Lionel, unknown to anyone in the mansion.
When he pushed aside the plants hanging long over the cliff, the hidden cave revealed itself.
The space, with a small desk, a makeshift chair, and a blanket, was simple but cozy.
Lionel lit the candles he had brought in advance, illuminating the dark interior of the cave.
The warm vermilion flames blazed with the scent of wax, glowing in soft colors.
After lighting all the candles, Lionel only then realized that the smell of his sweat was wafting up from between his shirt.
He had come here without washing after finishing training.
“I smell pretty strongly of sweat, don’t I? Sorry, I forgot to wash.”
“I-it’s all right. I-I don’t smell anything at all.”
Lionel felt very uncomfortable, but he did not want to go back to the mansion to wash.
If he went to the mansion now, he would undoubtedly be caught by Sasha.
“Sit here.”
Lionel yielded the only chair in the cave to the child.
Confirming that there was only one chair in the cave, the child rolled her eyes, which looked as if they might spill over.
“Wh-what about you, Young Master?”
Lionel pointed to a large log propped up in one corner.
“I’ll sit there.”
It was not out of any particular consideration for the child. It was simply that this spot was more comfortable for what Lionel was about to do.
“Th-thank you.”
Stammering her thanks, the child blushed and sat in the chair.
Lionel was displeased by that face that flushed at every opportunity, but he tried not to show it and crafted a gentle voice.
“By the way, what’s your name? I tried to call you earlier, but I couldn’t because I didn’t know your name.”
“I-I’m Jaelin.”
The child, fingering the tattered sleeve ends, barely managed to utter her name.
She was so embarrassed that she could not properly lift her small head.
Lionel clicked his tongue inwardly at the child’s foolishness.
“I’m Lionel.”
“Y-yes. Y-Young Master.”
Even after he told her his name, the child still called him Young Master.
Well, it did not matter what she called him.
Lionel spoke to Jaelin as he took out the items stored in a box.
“Then do your own thing comfortably.”
“Y-yes.”
Jaelin opened the book she always read. It was the intermediate rune textbook.
The book had become far more tattered than before.
It was clear she handled it with care, yet strangely, the child’s book grew worse by the day.
It was a little different from simply being worn down by handling. This time, a large stain of unknown origin had appeared on the cover.
‘Well, whatever.’
Lionel decided to pay it no mind and focus on his own work.
He immediately opened the leather case containing the tools he needed for wood carving.
Then he went to the corner of the cave where a pile of wood was stacked and carefully selected a piece.
Lionel, who had chosen a small, thoroughly dried block of wood the size of his palm, slowly rolled the wood in his hand.
The texture of the wood touching his hand for the first time in a while was very pleasing.
‘What shall I carve this time?’
Lost in thought, Lionel looked around, and his eyes fell on Jaelin.
Her puppy-like, drooping eyes were fixed intently on her book.
She seemed to have a part she did not quite understand, as her brow was slightly furrowed.
Her disheveled wheat-colored hair kept falling down, interfering with her reading.
Jaelin kept brushing her hair back, apparently bothered by it.
The image of a puppy resembling the child would not leave his mind.
Lionel decided to carve a small puppy.
After lightly sketching with a pencil and alternating between a saw and carving knife to rough out the shape, the block of wood that had been nothing more than a cube had taken the form of a puppy sitting with its hind legs on the ground.
How absorbed had he been? Lionel, about to switch carving knives to depict the puppy’s fur, was startled by a figure that had come close before him.
Jaelin was watching him carve the puppy from right beside him.
Her gaze, full of curiosity, would not leave his hand holding the carving knife.
Lionel pretended not to notice, switched carving knives, and rendered the puppy’s fur.
With each pass of the carving knife, the puppy’s fur was engraved as if alive.
Exclamations continuously burst from Jaelin’s mouth.
When he finished even the puppy’s round black bean-like eyes, what was in Lionel’s hand was no longer a block of wood.
A fluffy puppy sat there, smiling.
“I-is it f-finished?”
“No, not yet.”
Lionel brought out paints from the box and spread them open.
From among the various colors, he picked out the wheat color that resembled Jaelin’s hair and mixed the paint.
Jaelin crouched right in front of Lionel and watched him paint the puppy figurine.
Strangely, Lionel did not mind it.
The eyes that followed his every movement resembled the puppy he was carving.
“Y-Young Master. Th-this is a p-puppy, right?”
Jaelin looked up at Lionel with her green eyes wide open.
It was a thoroughly heated gaze.
Suddenly, his fingertips tingled.
