Chapter 36

Adolf, who had sold his conscience for a brief moment, watched Raon’s swordsmanship practice early in the morning with a look of immense satisfaction.

“I heard Sir Onyx has been overseeing our grandson’s training here.”

“Yes, I have been honored with the role of the Young Lord’s instructor, but I failed to fulfill my duties faithfully. I am deeply sorry.”

Recalling the incident from not too long ago, Sir Onyx hung his head low. No matter how much he brooded over it, Ramona had been right. It was a grave sin to let a child skip lessons while living under the same roof without even checking in.

“A man can make a mistake once. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Adolf’s words, which implied that a second mistake would result in him being chewed up bone by bone, made Sir Onyx shiver visibly.

“My grandson, you are truly talented! Who on earth taught you to be this good? Ho ho ho.”

Adolf, whose stoicism usually ran so deep he rarely even smiled at his own son, Adrian, completely unraveled in front of Raon. Watching from behind, Sir Baston simply shrugged and shook his head.

“Grandpa, you’re here!”

Raon, who had been swinging his sword under Onyx’s guidance, saw Adolf and ran over to give a polite bow.

“Yes, yes. Is there anything our grandson can’t do? You’re even doing well in your studies.”

“Mommy taught me everything. My mommy can do anything!”

Raon repeated what he had told Adrian before, beaming as he wiped his brow with his sleeve. Seeing this, Adolf took a dry towel and gently wiped the boy’s face himself.

“I heard you learned swordsmanship from Freire?”

“Yes! Master taught me from the basics. Hehe, not long ago, Daddy and Master had a duel, and they were perfectly matched!”

“Oh! Is that so?”

Adolf felt a bittersweet pang, realizing how long it had been since he himself had sparred with Freire.

“I wonder if there’s a way to lure Freire back here.”

His foster brother had claimed to hate money, hate houses, and even hate women. Adolf wanted to entice him back, but since he didn’t know what bait to use, he accidentally spoke his thoughts aloud.

“Can you bring Master here? Wow, that’s exciting! I wanted to see him duel Daddy again.”

“I’d bring him here this instant, but he left saying he hated this place. Do you think you could take his hand and drag him here for me?”

“Hmm, Master isn’t the type to be dragged around like that. But if you prepare something he likes, it might be possible.”

Adolf shook his head. There was no secret weapon to summon a foster brother who had even walked away from wealth and status.

“There’s nothing here that Freire likes. He hates this and that, so there’s nothing I can do.”

Adolf found himself venting his frustrations to a child. Seeing Adolf’s dejection, Raon put his hands on his hips and spoke with a belly full of confidence.

“There is exactly one thing Master loves.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

“The food my mommy makes! Mommy used to pack lunchboxes and follow him around, asking him to teach me. He agreed after he tasted that lunch.”

Adolf tilted his head, unable to fathom that the legendary Freire, who rejected everything, had taken a disciple for the sake of a mere lunchbox.

“It’s true! Every time I went to see Master, Mommy packed a portion for him too. He ate it so happily every single time. And he never refused when Mommy invited him to the house.”

At Raon’s words, Adolf’s gaze shifted toward Adrian, who had just stepped onto the training grounds. Adrian looked disheveled, with deep dark circles under his eyes from the workload Adolf had piled on him recently—a sight that did not please the Duke.

“Why are you glaring at me like that?”

“Because I want to love you aggressively.”

Adrian’s face soured instantly. Had he not been speaking to his father, he would have let out some very choice words. He comforted himself with the fact that his patience was growing deep.

“Put that aside for later. Tell me, did Freire ever go to the house of the woman who looked after Raon?”

“Ah, he did. Sir Zenon never declined an invitation from Ms. Ramona, even out of politeness. And he finished every stir-fried meat and vegetable dish she made, down to the last drop of sauce.”

“Do not lie to me. Even his wet nurse couldn’t fix his picky eating. Freire used to say he’d rather go to a battlefield than eat a vegetable.”

“Believe it or not, Father, but he didn’t leave a single speck of the food Ms. Ramona served. He loved it so much he’d even pack the leftovers to take home.”

Hearing this, Adolf almost ordered Ramona to be brought over immediately, but he stopped himself. She had lived as Raon’s mother; he couldn’t just drag her here and treat her like a common cook.

“Daddy, you thought Mommy’s food was the tastiest too, right?”

“Of course. Raon’s mother’s cooking was the best. I can still see that bossam she mentioned in her letter flickering before my eyes.”

“Next time I see Mommy, I’ll ask her to make—no, wait. Mommy will be tired, so I’ll let her rest. Hehe.”

As Raon spoke with his immense love for Ramona, Adrian patted the boy’s sweat-dampened hair.

***

A few peaceful days passed. Then, while reading a letter handed to him by Brown, Raon suddenly burst into tears.

“Young Lord? What’s wrong?”

“I-I miss Mommy. Mommy…”

Raon, who had been suppressing his longing all this time, headed to the dining hall with large tears welling in his eyes.

“Who made our grandson cry?!”

“G-grandpa… I miss Mommy.”

Raon sobbed into Adolf’s embrace, missing the woman who had given a nameless boy from the Grace estate a name and the only love he had ever known. Adolf hugged him tight and patted his back.

“If it’s what our grandson wants, it must be done. Rian! Send an invitation immediately! No, just go and fetch her yourself. Today! Right now!”

As soon as the command fell, Adrian finished his meal, rushed through his urgent tasks, and stood up. Wanting to see Raon’s smiling face again, he immediately took a carriage toward Ramona’s house.

It was evening, a time when smoke should have been rising from the chimney as dinner was prepared, but the house was silent. Fearing something might be wrong, he leaped from the carriage and pounded on the door.

“Raon’s mother! Are you there? Are you unwell?!”

As he shouted urgently, the door creaked open, and Toto poked his head out.

“Toto?”

Seeing the familiar man in unfamiliar noble clothes, Toto hopped back inside, and Ramona appeared in the doorway.

“Oh? Raon’s father, you’re here. What brings you at this hour?”

Unlike her usual self, Ramona looked disheveled, and a red liquid was smeared around her mouth. She looked so exhausted she might collapse at any moment. Panic-stricken, Adrian pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her mouth.

“I-I’ll call a doctor immediately! You should have said something if you were this ill!”

Startled, Adrian turned to find a physician, but he was jerked back as his clothes went taut. Ramona had grabbed his coat and pulled. He knew she was strong—she never seemed to struggle while carrying Raon—but he hadn’t expected to be pulled in so helplessly. The door slammed shut behind them.

“R-Raon’s mother? Ms. Ramona, we must get a doctor—”

“I don’t need a doctor. I’m just a little tired.”

“People don’t bleed just because they’re a little tired!”

“Pardon? Bleed?”

Startled, Ramona looked at the handkerchief in Adrian’s hand, now stained bright red. She shook her head.

“Aren’t you a knight? Can’t you tell the difference between blood and… this?”

Exasperated, Ramona watched as Adrian finally noticed the substance on the handkerchief was quite thick. Looking sheepish, Adrian reached out and wiped a stray red smear from the corner of her lips with his thumb.

Ramona flinched, her eyes widening in surprise, while Adrian naturally put his thumb into his own mouth to taste the red liquid.

“This… it’s a sauce made from peppers.”

Realizing it was Southern-style chili paste, Adrian’s face turned red. At the same time, a seductive aroma—enough to pull the soul right out of a person—hit his nose.

“This is…”

Watching Adrian flare his nostrils like Toto, Ramona shook her head and pulled him further into the room. There, he saw a massive metal bowl filled with various seasoned vegetables and chili paste.

“I was hungry but didn’t want to cook anything new, so I was just going to throw all the leftovers in and mix them. Would you like some?”

“I… I…”

When she added cold barley rice and a generous swirl of sesame oil to the bowl and began to mix, the fragrance filled the entire house. Adrian stared at the bibimbap, spoon already in hand.

“It’s nothing special compared to what you eat at the Duke’s estate, but…”

“I am not a picky eater. Didn’t you see me eating vegetables perfectly fine in front of Raon?”

Ramona looked at Adrian—who was spouting nonsense that would have made Adolf call him a liar—with a deadpan expression, then let out a snicker. As she moved to find a smaller bowl to serve him, Adrian caught her arm.

“Raon told me that for bibimbap, the ‘national rule’ is for multiple people to eat straight out of the large bowl together with their spoons.”

Adrian, inventing a “national rule” on the spot, swallowed hard.