Fortunately, Iris seemed to understand that Ezekiel’s intentions were not malicious, and her posture relaxed.
“My apologies.” At his brother’s intervention, Ezekiel sighed and offered his own apology.
Her recklessness, after all, had saved their lives.
Iris regarded him for a moment, one eye narrowed playfully, before she relented.
“Alright.
I’m sorry for blaming you, Ez.”
“…Ez?” Ezekiel flinched.
Iris tilted her head.
“That’s what he called you.
Isn’t it your name?”
“…It is.”
Ez.
It was a nickname reserved for his closest family, and hearing it from a stranger’s lips was jarring.
But he could not very well reveal his true name.
Etienne grinned.
“And I’m Tien.
You heard that earlier, didn’t you, Iris?”
A blush crept up Iris’s cheeks at his gentle tone.
Ezekiel sighed inaudibly, a flicker of irritation passing through him.
‘If only he treated Felicia with half the charm he is showing Miss Iris.’
Still, a question lingered.
“I am curious about something,” he began again.
“Is there some other ‘unnecessary thing’ I should avoid mentioning?”
“Pardon?” Iris’s brow furrowed.
Ezekiel crossed his arms and shrugged.
“Mrs.
Babin already knows you went into the river.
I am simply wondering why you warned me against saying anything unnecessary.”
‘Just don’t say anything unnecessary to Mrs.
Babin.’ That is what she had said.
But as far as he and Etienne knew, there were no other secrets to expose.
“Unless, of course, you plan on acquiring more secrets in the future.”
“…Hey.”
“Ez.” Etienne cut in, his expression troubled, but Ezekiel waved him off.
“I am not trying to pick a fight.
I am genuinely curious.
If there are other secrets at risk of being revealed, should I not choose my words carefully?”
“…I thought you were starting in again,” Iris mumbled.
Ezekiel’s eyes narrowed.
“Starting what again?”
“Hey, Ez.
Watch your tone.” Etienne finally gave him a light rap on the head.
When Ezekiel shot him an aggrieved look, his brother just chuckled.
“You’re a good man, Ez, but sometimes your manner of speaking really gets under people’s skin.
It’s no wonder they misunderstand you.”
“…I do?”
“Yes.
Just now, that ‘Starting what again?’ Even from the sidelines, it sounded as if you were angry and trying to provoke Miss Iris.”
“…I was not.”
“You hear that, Miss Iris?
He says he wasn’t angry.”
“Yes…” Iris managed a vague, uncertain smile.
Etienne grinned.
“So, are there any other secrets we need to keep for you?”
“No, it’s just…” Iris started to speak, then pressed her lips together.
Ezekiel tilted his head, but she simply lowered her gaze, a wave of embarrassment washing over her as she waved a dismissive hand.
“It’s nothing.”
Of course, he would soon find out why she had gone silent.
Despite their sudden arrival, Mrs.
Babin generously served them dinner.
“Good timing.
I was just making something warm.”
“Wonderful!”
It was a hearty stew of potatoes and venison.
“My master caught a fat doe this spring,” Mrs.
Babin announced proudly.
“We smoked the meat to preserve it.” The broth was thick with rustic dumplings made from torn pieces of dough.
Compared to the fare of the imperial palace, it was an incredibly humble meal.
Yet both Etienne and Ezekiel eagerly accepted their bowls.
Neither of the princes was a picky eater.
“Thank you for the meal, ma’am!”
“Thank you.”
Four people sat at the table: Mrs.
Babin, Iris, and their two guests.
Etienne tilted his head in thought.
“Didn’t you say you have a younger brother?”
“Ah, he will eat a little later.”
“He will?”
Mrs.
Babin answered Etienne’s unspoken question.
“This house only has four chairs in the dining room!”
The princes’ expressions grew awkward.
She meant there was only room for the usual four: Mrs.
Babin, Iris, her brother, and the absent Baron Quillucsia.
With two uninvited guests occupying their seats, the boy had to eat separately.
“Oh, I am so sorry.”
“It’s quite all right.
Henry is often ill, so he frequently eats in his room anyway,” Iris replied with a nonchalant air.
Etienne nodded in understanding.
If their host had made the decision, it would be rude for the guests to make a fuss.
“Let us pray,” Mrs.
Babin said, pausing before she began.
“Oh, by the way, which god do you two follow?” she asked cheerfully.
Etienne grinned.
“I pray to Adelia of the Water.
My brother has not yet chosen his patron.”
In Murenas, citizens underwent a coming-of-age ceremony at a temple where they chose a god to follow for life, praying to them before every meal.
The custom was the same for the royal family as well.
Etienne had recently chosen Adelia, the goddess of water, tolerance, and justice.
Mrs.
Babin smiled warmly.
“We follow Udal of storms, thunder, and truth!
Since Adelia and Udal are allies, perhaps our guest could lead the prayer today?”
“May I?” Etienne beamed and offered a playful prayer.
“Adelia, I thank you for seeing fit to save my brother and me through a friend.
We shall savor the meal you have provided!
In the name of the Seven Gods, we are grateful.
And I shall say no more, for I am famished!”
“Oh, my!” Mrs.
Babin cackled, delighted by the informal prayer.
Iris smiled and picked up her spoon.
In a household where the staff and masters dined together, such formalities were clearly not a priority.
Perhaps it was the gnawing hunger or the lingering chill in their bones, but the stew was unbelievably delicious.
Both princes scraped their bowls clean.
It was then that Mrs.
Babin gave them a meaningful glance.
“I’m sorry to ask, but could you wash your bowls?
I must take a meal to young Master Henry.”
A squire’s duties often included preparing a knight’s meals, so she must have assumed washing dishes was a familiar task for them.
Ezekiel hesitantly accepted the wooden bowls.
The problem was that he had never done such a thing in his life.
“Should I help?” Etienne asked quietly.
Unfortunately, Etienne was no more experienced in such matters.
Besides, if they both fumbled through it, they would draw too much attention.
Ezekiel sighed.
“I will figure something out.” He assumed he could just put the bowls in water and scrub them somehow.
While he had never washed dishes, he had experience cleaning his sword and tending to his horse in preparation for his future duties.
But washing dishes was fundamentally different from polishing a blade.
He was stumped the moment he stepped into the castle courtyard.
‘Do I draw water from the well?
Or is there a designated place for this?’ Mrs.
Babin had not said anything as he carried the bowls outside, so he presumed the washing was done outdoors.
With that, he headed for the well.
But he was just as lost there.
The simple act of drawing water proved difficult.
After slapping the surface of the well several times with the bucket, he managed to collect a pitiful amount.
‘Now what?
Do I just pour it over the bowls?’
As he stood there, perplexed, a voice cut through his thoughts.
“I had a feeling this would happen.”
It was Iris.
She had approached without him noticing and was now standing beside him, looking down at his clumsy efforts.
Ezekiel, who had been scrubbing a bowl with his bare palm, jumped in surprise, his face flushing.
Iris shook her head.
“Be honest.
You’re not squires, are you?”
He could neither confirm nor deny it.
Iris gently took the bowls from his hands as he stood there, red-faced and mortified.
“Give them to me.”
Her cool fingers brushed against his for a fleeting second.
She placed the bowls in a small channel of water running beside the well, then deftly drew a full bucket.
Without thinking, Ezekiel leaned closer to watch.
The water that had stubbornly resisted him now filled the bucket in an instant.
With a grunt, Iris began to pull the bucket up.
Ezekiel quickly jumped in.
“I will do it!
Uh… oh.”
‘Splash.’
The bucket, which had been rising steadily, plunged back into the well.
Iris gazed silently at the young man who had inserted himself beside her.
Her expression held no reproach, no contempt, yet Ezekiel felt he could die of embarrassment.