Eustia's Banquet (1)
Currently, there were three people in Selena’s personal residence who were not affiliated with Yohaiden.
The first was Zeke Clayman.
The distinguished guest who saved Selena's life and was also her swordsmanship instructor.
He was the person most mentioned after Selena among the mansion staff.
Of course, no one felt close to him due to his blunt speech and expressionless face, but...
Sharp eyes that stimulated a woman's heart and a cold atmosphere.
The man who saved their sworn Lady from danger.
And the solver of the Siera betrayal incident, which is still being talked about to this day.
On top of that, with the addition of 'training’ the night before, he was gradually expanding his influence among the guards as well.
The maids and servants, especially, gathered in secret places,
Their faces flushed as they brought up the subtle mood between Selena and Zeke.
Of course, Aliey, who knew the most, kept her mouth shut.
'It's too early! What if the Duke hears about this? How can they be so careless?'
She especially misunderstood the massage incident as having already crossed the line, so she was more careful with her words.
And the second person not affiliated with Yohaiden.
He, too, was a famous figure, no less than Zeke.
Iriel Eustia, the Princess of the Eustia family.
The Yohaiden staff were still at a loss as to how to handle this high-ranking noblewoman.
The same age as their master, attending the same school, and taking the same classes.
Lady Selena brought her personally, so it would be right to welcome her as a guest, but it seemed like their relationship wasn't good enough to treat her too well.
The long history of rivalry between the two ducal families and the rumors circulating in society also played a part.
Therefore, unlike Zeke, the staff made it an unspoken rule not to mention her name at all.
Of course, in the case of Shuri, a maid who interacted with her directly, her perception was changing a bit recently.
'Except for her blunt speech and actions, she seems like an honest and nice person... I think it would be okay for her to be friends with Lady Selena.'
Now, the last one left.
No one remembers his name now,
When servants and maids happened to run into him in the hallway or at mealtimes, they tilted their heads and
They passed by without thinking, wondering if he was a new servant.
The former owner of the now-burned-down Gevorg Weapon Shop, the blacksmith.
Alen.
Alen was staying at Selena's mansion, enjoying a luxury he had never experienced in his life.
Of course, even the head butler, who managed the people, forgot that he was a guest,
He ate the same food as the servants and slept among them,
Compared to when he was a poor blacksmith who barely made a living,
There was a difference between a cheap wooden sword and a knight's beloved sword.
On top of that, he had no other work to do, so he just spent his days idly, living a leisurely life of unemployment. How could this not be a luxury?
However, he couldn't laugh at all.
'What am I doing here… … .'
Hadn't he grabbed the lifeline?
His heart pounded with anticipation that he would now walk the path of a true artisan.
One day.
Two days.
A week.
One month.
Zeke Clayman, the hero who saved his life, never came to see him.
'Maybe I can't make that kind of sword again… … .'
Alen was scared and anxious.
The feeling of immersion he had experienced while making the Yohaiden Princess' rapier seemed to be fading.
But he couldn't say he would leave this place because he was afraid of Lodren,
Nor could he go to Selena or Zeke and ask for work.
'How can someone like me go to nobles like the Duke and ask for something… … !'
Thus, every day, he clenched and unclenched his itchy hands with a feeling of despair.
* * *
"Th, what is this… … !"
Alen's jaw dropped.
For a moment, a surge of sadness welled up inside him at the sight of Zeke, who had suddenly visited him in the morning.
But he followed Zeke's words and followed him, only to be faced with a spacious smithy.
'Th, this is definitely where my smithy was… … .'
A gleaming anvil, a hammer so luxuriously finished that he wondered if he could even use it, a furnace with flames blazing fiercely as if to devour him.
A sophisticated weapon display stand and various blacksmith tools.
There was no trace of Alen's former Gevorg Weapon Shop, and the smell of a newly built building filled the air.
Zeke frowned slightly.
"Hmm, it's a bit of a shame that it's so far from the mansion because of the noise."
Alen looked at Zeke with trembling eyes.
"How… … how did you get here… … .”
Alen asked with a trembling heart.
He must have brought him here to make him work, since he had brought him here.
But could he really swing his hammer in a place like this?
"The previous smithy burned down, so I built a new one. You can make weapons here from now on."
"I, I can really use this place… … ?"
"Yes."
"Then… … . Are there any other blacksmiths… … .”
"No."
"Yes!"
Tears welled up in Alen's eyes.
'Is he touched?'
Zeke nodded, thinking the same thing.
'Of course he should be touched after I poured so much money into this.'
Zeke had poured all the allowance he received from Selena into building a brand new smithy from the ground up.
In order to exclusively entrust him with the production and repair of armor, weapons, and training equipment that would be given to the students in the future.
"I, I'm really going to use this place alone?"
Alen asked again in a trembling voice.
"Yes."
At Zeke's confirmation, Alen's face crumbled.
He fell to his knees and clung to Zeke's pants.
"I, I can't!!!! Please, please!! Have mercy! Master Zeke! Please spare this humble life!"
“……?”
Zeke looked at him with questioning eyes.
"Why? You should be happy about this. Do you not have the confidence to make weapons?"
"How can I repay this debt alone!"
"Debt?"
"Yes! With such a nice place, I'd have to sell tens, hundreds, no, thousands of weapons to make enough profit to repay the money it took to build this smithy! I can't do it alone!"
Zeke frowned.
Ha, really.
What was he talking about?
"Alen, did I ever tell you to pay me back?"
"Yes?"
"The profits from selling the weapons are yours to keep. I only want one thing."
"Wh, what is it… … .”
Gulp. Alen's Adam's apple moved.
"From now on, you will prioritize the requests for weapons, armor, and training equipment for the five people who take my classes."
“……Yes? I think I heard you wrong.”
"You heard right. That's all I want from you. To do your best to make weapons for those five. That's why I invested in you."
“…….”
"You don't seem to believe me, so let me tell you again. You don't have to pay back the debt."
Shiver.
A dizzying thrill ran down his spine.
Alen couldn't control his trembling body.
"Re, really… … .”
Overwhelmed with emotion, his voice trailed off.
His eyes welled up.
However, Zeke didn't want to see a man's tears.
"If you cry, I'll make you pay back the debt."
Hiccup.
Alen desperately fought back his tears.
Meanwhile, Zeke glanced back and smiled.
"It seems like someone is in a hurry, so let's get started. Iriel, you can come in now."
Then, a red-haired girl appeared, awkwardly scratching her head.
“……How did you know I was here… … ?”
"Hmm? Didn't you follow me knowing?"
"Of, of course I followed you knowing!!!"
Alen, who was watching, opened his mouth.
"Um, this person is… … ."
Alen's noble radar sounded the alarm once again.
Surely, surely, surely this damn hero had brought another incredible person.
Alen's heart, which had been filled with emotion just a moment ago, instantly hardened.
"Iriel Eustia. The Princess of the Eustia family."
"Gasp!!!"
Alen let out a sound of admiration or astonishment and fell back.
"What's wrong?"
Zeke looked at him as if he were a strange creature.
'You damn benefactor!!! What am I supposed to do if you bring Eustia here!'
He was currently indebted to Yohaiden.
But of all people, he had to bring Eustia, who was at odds with the Yohaiden Princess, as his first customer.
Even if Alen was a commoner with no power or connections, he knew that much.
That the two were in an irreconcilable rivalry.
But what could he say here?
What about Yohaiden, what about Eustia,
If he spoke, it would only be words that would cost him his head.
Alen closed his eyes tightly.
'Really… … . This guy, really… … . Does he have no common sense… … . Why is he doing this to me… … .'
He had all sorts of thoughts running through his head,
But he had no choice but to bow his head.
"Greetings!!! I, I am Alen, a lowly blacksmith!!"
*
Alen examined Iriel Eustia's hand as Zeke had told him to.
The delicate and elegant hand of a Princess, just like Selena's.
“Oh, hmm. Ho… …”
Alen let out a low exclamation.
“What do you think?”
Zeke asked from the side.
“Well, Lady Princess. I apologize if this question is rude, but have you… … .”
“Alen, just the main point.”
“Have you used a dagger since you were young… … ?”
“Huh!? That’s right! How did you know? Did Zeke tell you?”
Iriel asked back with wide eyes.
“I didn’t tell him.”
“… … It’s faded a lot now, but there are traces of holding a dagger for a long time on your hand. It’s a hand suitable for holding a dagger.”
“Is that so?”
Iriel asked back.
“Yes, yes… … . You’ve been holding a dagger since before your bones were fully hardened, and that time is engraved in your hand.”
“Time engraved in my hand… … . You have a way with words… … ?”
Zeke nodded.
“Hmm, I knew it. Selena wasn’t suited for swords at all, but Iriel is different.”
Iriel tilted her head.
Selena’s martial prowess, which she had witnessed the other day, was beyond imagination.
“Huh? The flowerbed isn’t suited for swords?”
“… …”
Zeke didn’t answer her question.
Instead, his eyes stopped at a specific part of Iriel’s body.
Iriel narrowed her eyes like a cat and covered her chest with both hands.
“Wh, what are you looking at!”
“Having a physique that doesn’t hinder swordsmanship is something you’re born with, Iriel. In that sense, you’re blessed.”
“I, I didn’t want to be blessed with something like that!”
“Well, it would’ve been more convenient if they were smaller. But this much is enough. Congratulations, Iriel.”
Zeke clapped with a straight face.
Iriel’s face flushed red at the sound of his clapping.
“… … Don’t congratulate me!”
Iriel bit her lip tightly, her chest tightly constricted by the fabric of her clothes, a testament to her truly blessed physique.
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poor Iriel
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