Chapter 274.5: Strictly Professional

Sareid Family Capital Estate, Dining Room

It was another quiet day in the estate. Even with the massive influx of new students attending our sword lessons, the estate had never felt so empty.

It had been a while since Carine and Feyt left for the academy. Though it wouldn’t take too long to visit the academy once in a while, Kyrat and I decided it would be best for us to hold back.

For as long as she was in the capital, she had lived under both my and Kyrat’s care. We wanted Carine to stand on her own two feet, and I believed this was the perfect time for her to adapt herself to a new environment.

But, despite agreeing to the idea himself…

“Can’t we just drop in for a brief moment? A surprise visit, perhaps,” Kyrat said, his tone almost desperate. He buttered a piece of toast, though his attention was elsewhere as his butter knife was flattening the bread instead. “It’s been months. I need to see her again… I’m afraid I’ve forgotten what her laugh sounds like.”

I didn’t look up from my plate as I answered. “We already agreed on this, Kyrat. We are to limit our visits to major milestones only for her sake.”

“But the tournaments are starting!” he protested. “That qualifies as a milestone, surely!”

“Those are the preliminary rounds,” I countered, setting my cup down with a soft click. “They don't even set up spectator booths for the preliminaries. What do you plan to do, hover around the academy windows to watch?”

Kyrat shifted uncomfortably, though he didn't look entirely opposed to the idea. “I just want to give her some encouragement. What if she's overwhelmed?”

“She, of all people, wouldn’t be overwhelmed by mere students alone. And besides, she isn’t alone. Leila is with her,” I reminded him. “If anyone tries to overwhelm her, annoy her, or perhaps even plan to hurt her, Leila would have their head.”

Kyrat sighed, though his brow remained furrowed. “She is capable, I know. But… I am still worried about her. Aren't you?”

I took another sip of my tea, eyes narrowing slightly. As I silently placed the cup down, I turned my attention solely on the table before me.

“If… If Leila were to be unavailable. There is always Feyt,” I murmured. “At the very least, I know that he will try his best to be by her side. I had trained him to do that myself.”

So I admitted, but a small part of me said that even without my training, he might’ve still done the same on his own.

Kyrat, now applying his butter properly, seemingly calming down, nodded. “You might be right about Feyt, Reyna. I suppose I’m overthinking.” He cut a piece of the toast, stabbing it with his fork and eating it in a single bite.

Then, a small chuckle broke through his melancholy. “Though, according to Leila’s written reports, it seems Carine has been the one protecting Feyt so far. Especially regarding that… panty-stealing incident.”

My fingers twitched at the mention of it. I let out a heavy sigh as I glared at the clear skies above. “It’s still unbelievable. Did those brats have nothing better to do than frame someone for such an uncouth act?”

“I’m just glad that Carine saw through the act. I wouldn’t want to travel to the academy just to clear the boy's name from a petty scandal.” Kyrat’s knife suddenly froze mid-cut. His eyes lit up. “Oh. But that could have been a valid excuse to visit.”

“Let it go, Kyrat.”

—

We finished our breakfast soon after and were preparing to leave the dining room together.

A butler opened the door for us, and a single figure stood on the opposite end of the doors. Eliza, the temporary head maid, stood there with a gentle smile plastered on her face.

She offered a deep bow as we exited the dining room and into the hallway.

“Good morning, Lord Kyrat, Lady Reyna. I hope the breakfast was enjoyable,” Eliza said. She straightened up and turned to face Kyrat. “Lord Kyrat, this morning’s batch of letters has arrived. If you would like, I can have it sent to your office as soon as you are available.”

“Ah, must be the new student applications,” Kyrat said, a hint of his usual calm demeanor had returned, it seemed. “Very well, Eliza. Bring them to my desk immediately. I’ll be in my office shortly.”

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“Understood, My Lord.”

Eliza offered a graceful bow before leaving the hallway. She had taken the role of the head maid right after I had sent Leila to watch over Carine. At first, I was worried that the task might be too much for her. But so far, she had, at the very least, kept things stable in the estate.

“I’ll be heading to my office after a short walk outside to clear my head,” Kyrat said, turning back to me. “Are you coming with? It’s a beautiful day.”

I shook my head. “I’ll be in the art room.”

I ignored the slight disappointment he showed as I walked past him. I headed toward the main lobby and climbed the stairs.

—

I sat silently by the easel, lightly brushing the canvas with off-white paint. With weather this calm, I had thought it was the perfect time to work on a few new pieces. But the moment I laid the first stroke down, I felt how stiff and tense my fingers were.

It was clear. My mind was entirely elsewhere, and I couldn't immerse myself in the painting at all. What was worse was that I knew exactly why.

I let out a long sigh I had been holding in for a while.

I’m a hypocrite, aren’t I?

I had spent the last twenty minutes lecturing my husband on restraint and maintaining our boundaries as parents. Yet here I was, my mind stubbornly drifting right back to Carine.

Is she eating well?

How has her training gone?

Has she made any friends?

And how far… has she gone with Feyt?

I shook my head violently at that last thought, which correspondingly gave me a hard, unsightly streak of black on my canvas. I cast the ruined canvas aside and slapped a fresh one onto the easel, forcing myself to take a slow, calming breath.

There was no point in worrying about Carine. With how Leila reported her progress, I was confident Carine would do well. If I predicted it right, Leila’s latest report, one about the first preliminary round Carine had, would arrive soon. Perhaps even in the same pile of letters Kyrat was handling in the office. So, I decided it was best to be patient.

But as soon as that worry died down, another reared its ugly head.

Feyt…

Feyt was, undoubtedly, brilliant. He had a deep understanding of how the Sareid style worked, almost as deep as Carine’s, which I had no doubt he learned from. With his rate of growth, I had no doubt he would make a great bodyguard of Carine, and perhaps even a higher title later on. That was the place I reserved for him.

Yet, I stared at the canvas, trying to paint over the nagging truths I didn't want to admit. I didn't want to think about the way Carine looked at him, cared for him, protective of him.

The incident involving Feyt’s defamation, the fact that Carine immediately came to save him… surely it was strictly professional, right? It wouldn’t do for her if her future bodyguard was involved in a false scandal, after all.

I dipped the brush back into the paint, determined to force my focus back to work.

As soon as I managed to steady my rhythm—

“—What in the—?!”

A loud voice echoed down the hallway, shattering the calm quiet of the upper floors. It was unmistakably Kyrat; no one else in the estate could match his voice in loudness. I had no doubts his voice reverberated all the way to the dance hall.

I set my palette down with a clatter, the peace of the room instantly evaporating. Wiping my hands on a cloth, I hurried out and followed the noise to his office a few doors down.

I pushed the heavy doors open without knocking. Kyrat was standing behind his desk, frozen. His knuckles were white as he gripped a single piece of parchment, an open envelope bearing our official seal resting nearby.

Leila’s report?

His eyes were wide, staring blankly at the paper as if it declared the end of the world.

A tight, heavy feeling twisted in my chest.

Did something happen?

“Dear,” I demanded, stepping quickly into the room. "What happened? What is it?"

He swallowed hard, his gaze slowly lifting to meet mine. The utter disbelief on his face spoke volumes. Never once had I seen him this deeply shaken.

“Carine… What happened to her?!” I demanded, walking up to his desk.

“Carine… cooked.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. My mind went blank, struggling to process the word.

Cooked?

"What?" I asked, my voice cracking for a moment.

"Carine cooked lunch... for Feyt. With her own hands."

Carine. The girl who had never so much as stepped foot into our own kitchens, let alone lifted a pan… cooked lunch?

And above all… she had done it… for Feyt?

Before I could even vocalize the sheer bewilderment freezing my chest, Kyrat relayed the report in its entirety. Starting from how Carine woke up early, asked Leila for assistance, her insistence on doing things by herself…

Slowly, the horror in his face was replaced by a massive grin.

"A milestone!" he bellowed, slamming both hands onto the desk, the letter fluttering under his palms. "Reyna, this is definitely a major milestone! Eliza! Hurry and ready the carriage! We are leaving for the academy immediately!"

The sudden burst of his loud, triumphant voice snapped me out of my stupor. My shock hardened into a flat glare as I regained my composure.

"Sit down, Kyrat," I said, my voice cutting through his excitement like a winter wind. "We are doing no such thing."

"But Reyna—"

"No." I turned on my heel. "If we show up at the academy doors because of our daughter learning how to make sandwiches, we will be a laughingstock. Control yourself."

I swept out of the office, closing the door firmly behind me to drown out his protests. I walked back down the hallway toward my art room, my posture rigid, but my mind… my mind was nothing of the sort.

Cooked…

Carine… cooked…?

Cooking a lunch. Personally prepared.

For her bodyguard. With her own hands.

Why would she do that? More importantly, why would she do that for him?

I spun countless theories, justifications, arguments. But no matter what, my mind could only conclude one thing.

Nothing…

Nothing about this is professional at all!

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