But Iris was kind.
“Pick the bucket up again,” she instructed softly, “and throw it in upside down.”
Ezekiel did as she said.
The bucket slapped against the water and then slowly submerged.
“Now, pull it up,” Iris urged.
He pulled on the rope, and this time, the bucket rose, filled to the brim and swaying heavily.
A triumphant cheer escaped his lips before he could stop it.
“I did it!” He immediately felt foolish.
Iris offered him a small, knowing smile before fetching a basin from nearby.
She took the bucket he had raised, poured the water into the basin, and submerged the bowls.
“These are greasy, so you have to wash them with ‘pidulum’ leaves.”
“Ah…”
Iris snapped a dry stalk she had brought with the basin.
A milky white sap oozed from the seemingly withered plant.
She coated a leaf with the sap and began to scrub the bowls, and soon, fine bubbles frothed in the water.
Ezekiel followed her lead, and the chore was finished in no time.
Iris rinsed the bowls one last time.
“Now we just leave them in the kitchen to dry, and we’re done.” Standing before the neatly arranged bowls, she shook the water from her hands and gave him a bright smile.
For some reason, a warmth spread to Ezekiel’s ears.
He had expected a lecture, but she had not said a single critical word.
As if reading his thoughts, she spoke again.
“That was a very fine horse you were riding.
And from the calluses on your hands, I can tell you wield a sword.
But you do not seem to be your friend’s squire.”
He said nothing.
“Mrs.
Babin may think you’re squires, but I know better.
My father was a knight, you see.”
“That is…” Ezekiel began, but Iris held up a hand.
“You do not have to explain.
I’m sure you have your reasons.”
“…You’re not suspicious of us?”
Iris’s mouth fell open slightly.
Seeing her expression, Ezekiel realized he had said something incredibly stupid.
“No, I just mean… we could be robbers…”
“Robbers who would risk their lives crossing a flooded river?” she asked, an amused glint in her eyes.
He scrambled to recover, but he was only digging himself into a deeper hole.
Iris let out a soft laugh.
“What kind of robber does the dishes?
I just assumed you were sons from some important house.”
Just then, a voice called out.
“Sister!”
Mrs.
Babin entered the kitchen with a young boy in tow.
It was evident at a glance that he was Iris’s brother—he had the same flowing silver hair and piercing blue eyes.
He looked to be no older than ten.
When the boy saw Ezekiel, his mouth dropped open.
“A prince?”
Ezekiel froze.
Mrs.
Babin let out a hearty laugh.
“Young master, he may be handsome, but calling him a prince could get you in serious trouble!”
“Ah…” The boy’s cheeks flushed, but he bravely introduced himself.
“I’m Henry!
Henry Quillucsia!”
“A pleasure.
I’m Ez,” Ezekiel replied, finally managing a smile.
The eight-year-old boy, frail and prone to fevers, was delighted to have a visitor.
He rarely left his room on cold, rainy days like this one.
After the introductions, Mrs.
Babin mentioned she had already shown Etienne to the guest room and gave Ezekiel directions.
“Oh, and Miss, your clothes are dry.”
“Already?” Iris’s eyes widened.
Mrs.
Babin put her hands on her hips, her nose wrinkling.
“Do you have any idea how much work it was to dry them?
Why on earth did you go into the water in the first place?”
“I told you, I had no choice!” the girl and the woman bickered lightly.
In the midst of their exchange, Mrs.
Babin grumbled under her breath, “At least you didn’t go in wearing just your underthings like you did when you were little!”
At that, Iris flinched and shot a nervous glance at Ezekiel.
It finally dawned on him what “secret” she had been so hesitant to reveal.
The image of her emerging from the river in a soaked, clinging chemise flashed through his mind.
“I—I think I will go to my room now.” Ears burning, Ezekiel made a hasty retreat.
When he entered the guest room with a face flushed crimson, Etienne, who had been inspecting their quarters, tilted his head.
“What’s wrong?”
Ezekiel mumbled that it was nothing.
His brother, exhausted, was asleep in moments, but Ezekiel tossed and turned all night.
The rain began again before dawn.
In the morning light, the castle looked even more dilapidated than he remembered.
Wind whistled through cracks in the stone walls, and the old stables and faded tapestries made it difficult to distinguish the castle from a common barn.
Yet the crests displayed on the tapestries, above the well, and on the main gate confirmed this was, indeed, the Quillucsia domain.
“It’s a miracle this place even has a guest room,” Etienne mumbled, yawning as the rain woke him.
Ezekiel, who had been awake for some time, responded quietly, “Apparently, relatives stay over sometimes.”
“They have relatives?
Imagine that…”
The blankets and straw mats were damp, but they were far better than nothing.
Etienne toyed with a piece of straw poking through the blanket and chuckled.
“Felicia would have a fit if she knew two princes were sleeping here.
She’d probably drag me to the river and throw me in herself if she saw me like this.”
He was well acquainted with Felicia Arbois’s aversion to anything unclean.
But Ezekiel shook his head.
“It’s old, not dirty.
Lady Arbois is discerning enough to tell the difference.”
“Oh?
You think so highly of Felicia.
Perhaps you should be the one to take the throne.
Such magnanimity.” Seeing Ezekiel’s scowl, Etienne snickered.
“Looking at this place, it’s a wonder they managed to pay their taxes at all.”
“…I am glad we came to return the money,” Ezekiel admitted.
Etienne shrugged.
“Let’s just hope the rain stops this afternoon.
The knights must still be searching for us.”
But the rain persisted.
It had eased to a drizzle, but the downpour was relentless.
At least the wind had died down.
Despite the summer season, Etienne complained of a shivery chill.
Iris, concerned, brought him another blanket and a leather pouch filled with hot water.
“The summer rains are often like this in this region.
Many people catch colds.
I do hope you don’t get sick…”
“Oh, I’ll be fine.
I’m more worried about the horses, Ez.”
Ezekiel nodded.
“I will go check on them.”
“Ah, I will come with you,” Iris offered, quickly joining him.
Ezekiel narrowed his eyes.
“You are not planning to cross the river again, are you?”
“Are you, Ez?” she retorted.
“I only need to confirm the horses are safe.”
“And I’m only going to see if my father might be waiting on the other side.”
“She never backs down, does she?” Etienne chuckled from the doorway.
In the end, the two of them headed back to the crossing.
Fortunately, the horses on the far bank appeared safe.
They had been tied loosely enough to break free and escape if the river rose too high.
“Oh, wait a moment.” As they turned to leave, Iris stopped him in front of a thicket of bushes.
She took his hand and lifted it.
Surprised, Ezekiel tried to pull away, but she was quicker.
“Ta-da.”
Resting in his palm was a single, jet-black berry.
Ezekiel blinked.
Iris gave him a small, shy smile.
“They’re at their peak this time of year.
Once the rain stops, they’ll turn to mush.
It looks like a few survived.”
“…Are these edible?”
“You’ve never had one?” Iris looked puzzled for a moment before her face broke into a laugh.
She picked another blackberry and held it to Ezekiel’s lips.
“Try it.
It’s delicious.”
“But it is black…”
“That’s how you know it’s perfectly ripe.”
He had no way to refuse.
Ezekiel parted his lips, and Iris gently placed the berry inside.
Her fingertips brushed against his lips as she pulled her hand away.
He slowly chewed.
It tasted of the earth, wild and green.
The crunch of the tiny seeds was an unfamiliar sensation.
“Let’s see.” With the same fingers, she picked another berry and popped it into her own mouth, then sucked the juice from their tips with a soft sound.
The very fingers that had just touched his lips.
“Delicious, isn’t it?” she said with a smile.
Ezekiel could not have said what the blackberry tasted like at all.
He slept poorly again that night.