Chapter 160 - 158
The dining hall was... strangely quiet.
It wasn’t an awkward silence.
More like...
The kind of silence where everyone was pretending nothing was wrong despite the fact that everything was wrong.
The servants were moving gracefully around the room, placing dishes on the long dining table, and silverware clinking softly against porcelain.
Meanwhile on the opposite side of the table...
Stab.
Stab.
Stab.
Stab.
I slowly turned my head to see Gawain wasn’t eating.
His fork, however, was repeatedly committing crimes against the innocent steak on his plate while glaring daggers at the three sitting in front of us.
The poor piece of meat had already lost all resemblance to food, it looked like evidence from a murder scene.
I leaned closer and lowered my voice. "...Gawain."
Stab.
"Mm?"
Stab.
"...Stop playing with your food."
Stab.
"And just eat."
He glanced down at the mangled remains of his steak.
"..."
"..."
"...Oh."
As if only now realizing what he’d done, he casually looked toward one of the servants.
No words, just eye contact but the servant immediately understood as she gave a small bow.
"Certainly, Sir Gawain."
With the speed and efficiency of someone who had apparently dealt with this before, she whisked away the thoroughly abused steak and replaced it with a perfectly cooked new one.
I stared at the servant. "...That happens often?"
The servant smiled politely. "...More often than you’d think, Miss Blanca."
"..." I decided I didn’t want to know.
My attention quickly shifted to Gawain’s fresh steak.
It looked...
Amazing.
Juicy.
Perfectly seared.
My stomach immediately growled again.
Without hesitation, I eagerly tugged on the sleeve of his coat.
He looked at me. "What?"
I pointed at the newly arrived steak. "Request another one."
"...Why?"
I pointed proudly at my now-empty plate. "I’m still hungry."
He looked at my plate then at me. "...We literally sat down three minutes ago."
I nodded proudly. "I work fast."
"You inhaled your lunch."
"I chewed."
"Barely."
"I prefer the term..." I placed a hand over my chest with all the dignity I could muster. "...’Growing artist.’"
"You stopped growing years ago."
"My creativity is still growing."
"Your appetite is what’s growing."
"Creative minds consume more calories."
"You just made that up."
"Can you prove I did?"
"..."
He looked like he had already accepted defeat before the argument even began.
"...Glutton."
Despite the insult, he quietly cut his own steak into bite-sized pieces before sliding the entire plate in front of me as he looked toward one of the servants.
"Another steak."
The servant smiled knowingly. "Right away, Sir Gawain."
I immediately brightened. "Hehe... You’re the best!"
Without even looking at me, Gawain replied, "You only ever say that when I feed you."
I happily stuffed another piece of steak into my mouth. "...Because you always feed me."
"That’s not the compliment you think it is."
"I think it’s a wonderful compliment."
He shook his head. "...One day you’ll bankrupt someone through food alone."
Across the table...
Kayden watched the exchange quietly.
A small smile had somehow found its way onto his face.
It simply appeared on its own as he watched Blanca happily stealing Gawain’s lunch while the latter complained without actually stopping her.
’...She’s exactly as the old man described.’
Remington slowly looked at Kayden as his gaze lowered down to his mouth, his expression became increasingly disturbed as he leaned over and whispered, "...Boss."
Kayden didn’t look away from Blanca. "Hm?"
"I know she’s your mate..."
"..."
"...But could you at least not smile like a complete pervert?"
The smile completely disappeared as Kayden slowly turned his head.
Very.
Very.
Slowly.
His eyes settling on Remington.
"..."
"..."
Remington immediately straightened in his chair. "...I choose life."
Colt calmly took another sip of tea. "A wise decision."
"I misspoke."
"You did."
"I meant..." Remington smiled awkwardly. "...You have a very... healthy smile."
Kayden continued staring.
"...Respectful."
Still staring.
"...Gentlemanly?"
Nothing.
Remington slowly lowered his head. "...I’m sorry, Boss."
Kayden finally tore his gaze away from Remington, only to realize Blanca had been quietly staring at him the entire time.
"..."
For the first time that afternoon, Kayden looked genuinely caught off guard.
"Mister Kayden?" She tilted her head. "...Shall we start right away?"
He blinked.
"Oh."
He immediately straightened in his chair.
"A-Ah..."
He cleared his throat into his fist.
"Y-Yes."
His usually calm voice betrayed him for the briefest second.
"L-Let’s head to my quarters."
Silence.
"Pfft."
Gawain lowered his head, one hand covering his mouth as his shoulders shook and the more he tried to suppress it, the worse it became.
Remington and Colt looked at him in confusion.
"...What’s so funny?" Colt asked.
"Yeah," Remington frowned. "What’s your problem now?"
Gawain looked at the faint redness creeping onto Kayden’s ears.
His grin widened.
"...Nothing."
He stood up from his chair and dusted off his coat.
"Oh..."
He glanced between Kayden and Blanca with unmistakable amusement.
"...This is going to be fun."
Kayden narrowed his eyes. "...Meaning?"
Gawain only smiled. "You don’t need to know.."
Remington looked back and forth between the two men. "...I don’t like that smile."
Colt nodded. "Neither do I."
"Boss..." Remington’s expression changed. "...Did you accidentally say something?"
Kayden frowned. "I don’t believe so."
"Oh..." Gawain chuckled. "You definitely did."
Kayden mentally replayed the last few seconds.
"Let’s head to my quarters."
His expression froze.
"..."
"..."
The tips of his ears turned a deeper shade of red.
Remington finally realized it too.
"Oh..."
"...OH."
Colt’s understanding dawned on him as well. "...Ah."
Blanca looked around the table. "...Did I miss something?"
Four men answered at the same time.
"Yes."
"No."
"Definitely."
"Not at all."
Blanca frowned. "...That somehow explained absolutely nothing."
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
"There has been a report from our scouts, Sire."
Gavin didn’t even spare his aide a glance.
His attention remained fixed on the enormous portrait hanging on the wall opposite his desk.
It depicted a woman of breathtaking, almost unreal beauty.
Hair as white as snow cascaded down her shoulders.
Lips as red as blood contrasted against her porcelain complexion.
And those icy blue eyes...
It was cold enough to keep the world at a distance yet captivating enough that no one ever wanted to look away.
It was a face Gavin had memorized long ago.
One he never allowed himself to forget.
Only after a long silence did he finally ask,
"...Go on."
Islave cleared his throat. "Miss Frostine has gone to the Cartiere Residence."
"...She’s where?"
"The Cartiere Residence."
"...That brat’s place?"
"Yes, Sire."
Gavin leaned back in his chair. "...How unfortunate."
"For whom?"
"For Kayden."
Islave already had a bad feeling about where this conversation was going.
"...Is Gawain with her?"
"Yes, Sire."
Gavin nodded thoughtfully. "Excellent."
"...Excellent?"
"Launch an attack."
Islave froze. "...I’m sorry?"
"I said..."
Gavin smiled pleasantly.
"Launch an attack."
"...Against..."
"...The Cartiere Residence."
Islave stared at him blankly. "...Sire."
"Yes?"
"May I ask... why?"
Gavin answered immediately. "Because it’s fun."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Islave closed his eyes.
Of course.
There it was.
The explanation.
If one could even call it that.
"Sire perhaps..." Islave took a deep breath. "We could explore another option."
"We are and we’re attacking."
"...That’s not another option."
"It is for me."
"...Your actual reason, Sire."
Gavin looked genuinely confused. "I already told you."
"...Please give me the reason you would write in an official military report."
"Oh."
Gavin thought for a moment then snapped his fingers.
"A diplomatic visit."
Islave blinked. "...By attacking the leader of this district?"
"Correct."
"Sire..."
"What?"
"...Have you finally gone mad?"
Gavin looked offended. "Finally? That’s a very rude assumption."
He leaned back in his chair and smiled as though he were explaining something perfectly reasonable.
"Besides, this is RU-108. Getting stabbed in the face is practically considered a handshake."
"..."
Gavin clicked his tongue. "Do you know what truly offended me?"
Islave pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don’t want to know."
"Those little brats knew the girl was coming to this district..."
Gavin’s smile twitched.
"...and not one of them thought to inform me."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
"Do they have any idea how dangerous this district is?"
Gavin’s fingers drummed against the armrest.
"Yet they still had the audacity to invite her here without saying a word."
His smile became unnervingly pleasant.
"The moment I see those idiots... I’m going to beat some common sense into every last one of them."
Islave looked toward the ceiling. ’Ancestors... Please explain why this man is in charge.’
"...Will we also be kidnapping Miss Blanca, Sire?"
"Naturally," Gavin answered as if it were obvious. "You think those brats are just going to hand her over?"
"...Fair point."
"We’ll simply borrow her."
"...With or without permission?"
Gavin looked at him. "Islave."
"...Yes?"
"Why would I ask permission?"
"...I don’t know why I even asked."
Islave flipped to the next page in his notebook.
"And Sir Gawain?"
"That boy can handle himself." Gavin waved a hand dismissively. "Attack him as aggressively as you like."
"...Understood."
Islave closed his notebook.
"...Are you prepared for the consequences, Sire?"
Gavin laughed. "I was born ready."
With that, he leaned back in his chair and returned his attention to the portrait hanging on the wall.
Islave recognized the gesture immediately because whenever Gavin started staring at that portrait again, he wasn’t interested in talking anymore.
He quietly excused himself.
Sometimes...
He genuinely wondered if insanity ran in the family.
Because somehow...
Both father and son possessed the exact same talent.
Giving him migraines.
Every.
Single.
Day.