“Huh, what the hell!” Elysian felt a massive arm pressing across his chest. Realizing who it was, he relaxed a bit before cursing. “Get your damn arm off me, you big oaf!” he snapped, struggling to free himself from the lumbering giant. “Phew, are you trying to kill me?!” he grumbled, shaking his head at the snoring boy, who slept like a baby. Slowly, a smile formed on his face, looking fondly at the innocent boy.

Elysian suddenly put his hands on his head, sighing. “Ugh, I’d been pretending all night, and now it’s for real. Damn this headache. It seems I’ve underestimated this body’s alcohol tolerance,” he muttered, slowly standing up and grabbing some water before heading to the balcony. As he gazed out, he noticed the sun starting to rise, so he sat down and absorbed the beautiful view.

“Master, what are you doing?” Bran yawned, standing next to him.

Elysian glanced at him for a moment before turning his gaze back to the sunrise. “Nothing, my friend. I’m just enjoying my morning. I never realized the sunrise could be this beautiful. I used to hate it before. I always preferred the sunset. But now, I don’t know. It seems I’m growing fond of it.”

“Master, I’ve never seen you look at the sunset before,” the servant said, confused.

“I bet you just didn’t notice it before,” he smiled, taking a sip of water.

“Master, why do you call me your friend?”

“Huh? Aren’t we friends?”

“Really?” Bran asked, his big goofy grin widening as his face lit up like a child given some treats.

“Of course,” Elysian said, laughing.

“So can I call you, my friend, too?”

“No, big oaf. If you do, people might get upset with you, thinking it’s a lack of manners and disrespect towards me.”

“Oh, okay, I understand,” the servant said with dismay.

His master chuckled, gently patting him on the arm. “Cheer up, big fella. It doesn’t mean we’re not friends. And when it’s just us, you can always call me ‘friend’ anytime you like.”

“Oh…Okay, friend,” Bran said softly, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Elysian could only laugh again, seeing his reaction.

‘He’s really cute. I’d like to pinch those big cheeks of his. Just imagining a younger child that is way smaller than him treating him like a kid, that would be amusing. I just hope that innocence won't be replaced by hate like it did in the past.’

“Thank you, master.”

“Thank you for what?”

“Thank you for being my first friend.”

“You didn’t have any friends before?”

“No, master.”

“Why?”

“The other kids don’t like me very much. They think of me as stupid. Some are even afraid of me,” the servant said, looking at the floor. “The adults are nice to me, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s mostly the soldiers. Likely because they’re Pa’s friends.”

“Rodger is close to the soldiers?”

“Yeah, he’s close to the soldiers. He spends a lot of time in the stable, so they’ve gotten close. Also, they often drink in the tavern together.”

“That’s alright, big fella. Don’t mind the other kids. You have me now.”

Bran gave him a big, goofy smile again.

“Let’s go,” he said as he got up, returning the smile. “Let’s eat. I’m hungry.”

“It’s not time to eat yet, master. They’re still preparing the food.”

“I’m hungry already, big fella. I can’t wait.”

----------------------------------------

“Hurry! You’re too slow!” Norah exclaimed, juggling various tasks while cooking. “Quick on that scallion. Hand me the meat,” she urgently said, pointing to the kitchen staff. “Hurry, prepare the egg.”

Elysian and Bran entered the kitchen, observing a hive of organized chaos. Each person contributed by chopping, peeling, or other actions, forming a chain of activities that beautifully converged into the preparation of delicious food.

In the past, he had never been into the kitchen, so this marked his first time seeing this part of the estate. Even during his life in the desert, he never used a kitchen. He often just bought food from a stall, or when he was in the wild, he would directly roast it over an open fire. When he was rich, he had cooks prepare meals for him. Witnessing the collective effort in the kitchen, he was fascinated by it.

“Hurry…”

“Young master?!” asked one of the kitchen staff, a hint of surprise and concern in her voice when she saw him standing in the door. “What are you doing here?”

Suddenly, the entire kitchen grew quiet as all the eyes were focused on him. The silence was deafening.

Elysian immediately grew uncomfortable with the attention, so he flashed an awkward smile in an attempt to ease the tension. When that didn’t seem to help, he joked, “Do I need permission to be here?”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

‘Damn, that was horrible.’

“I’m sorry, young master,” the kitchen staff quickly apologized, her face paling as she kneeled in front of him. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

‘Yeah, horrible.’

“It’s okay. You don’t need to do that,” he softly said, quietly approaching the woman to help her stand up, but instead, she recoiled in panic. He stepped back, sighed, and reassured her, “Be at ease. I’m not here to cause trouble, okay?”

“Good morning, young master,” the cook quickly said, standing at the front. “Do you need anything?”

“Ma, the young master is hungry,” Bran said, grinning at the woman. “Since it’s not yet time for breakfast, he went here to get some food.”

“Ma?” Elysian asked, looking at the boy, perplexed.

“Yeah, she’s my mother, young master. She’s the cook of the house.”

“Oh,” he said, intrigued. Observing the woman, he immediately noticed the uncanny resemblance.

‘His father has an average height and a small physique, so I initially thought he was adopted. It turns out he isn’t. Now, I see where he got that height—and not just the height. There’s a striking resemblance between the two of them. Hmm… The physique and appearance are eerily similar.

Well, she is his mother, so there’s nothing surprising about that.’

“Good morning, madam,” he said, nodding to her in respect. “I’m sorry to disturb you or anyone here. I was hungry, so I thought of coming to get some food.” Everyone’s eyes widened as they just stared at him. The atmosphere became even more awkward, so he cleared his throat and added, “I don’t want to be an inconvenience; any available food will be fine.”

"Ma?!” Bran softly shook his mother.

“Ah! Certainly, young master,” Norah quickly said, immediately getting her composure back as she scrambled to get some food. “Young master, we have bread that’s been freshly baked, but the other food isn't done yet. If you could just wait for a short moment…”

“It’s okay, I can wait,” Elysian said, smiling as he sat on the chair. Everyone’s eyes widened again as they followed his every movement. This increased the awkwardness and tension in the room.

“Young master, if you’d like, we could bring the food to the dining hall,” the cook suggested, starting to sweat. “Hmm. This place is too dirty and untidy for you. It isn’t suitable for someone of your stature.”

“Dirty? Hmm, looks good to me,” he said, smiling. “If it’s really dirty, I don’t think you would cook food here, right? Especially for a noble.”

“You’re right, young master,” she said, smiling awkwardly. “I just meant…”

“I know what you mean, madam. I’m just teasing,” he said, looking at all of them without dropping his smile. “If it’s messy or not suitable, as you say, I will be the judge of that. I’m here because it’s boring eating there every day. And if I don’t like it, I’ll just go somewhere else. So relax. Just do what you always do. Don’t mind me.” When they just stared at him, he added, “Hmm. Could you give me the bread? I’m starving.”

“Ah! Of course, young master,” Norah said, immediately handing him the bread. “Here.”

“Thank you.” Elysian grinned. As he was about to eat, he noticed that the people there didn’t move but kept staring at him. “You can all stop staring. I won’t bite,” he chuckled, pointing to the front. “I’m also hoping for that fried egg that you’re cooking.”

“Of course, young master. It’s almost done,” the cook said, bowing in apology before bellowing, “Why are you just standing there? Get back to work!”

Instantly, the entire kitchen buzzed with activity once again. At first, the staff were a bit conscious of him, but gradually, he was forgotten as they immersed themselves in their tasks. Meanwhile, Elysian was eating his bread, quietly observing them. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but there was something soothing about watching ordinary people perform their daily tasks. It brought him a sense of joy, a touch of normalcy in a world often marred by unexplained things.

“Master, why are you smiling?” Bran inquired, looking confused as he ate.

“I find solace in it, my friend,” he said, taking another bite of the bread. He smiled again, but his smile this time had a somber tone to it. “It's just nice watching people do their thing. It soothes my heart and mind. This serene moment seems like a prologue to the impending chaos—a brief interlude before this land is bathed in the blood and tears of the wicked—to quench the hunger of vengeance. For those long-forgotten souls, desiring nothing but justice—of justice that never came.”

Bran stared at him, confused. “I don’t understand, master.”

“It’s nothing, big fella,” he chuckled softly. “I’ve been learning poetry lately. Turns out, I’m not that good.”

Bran chuckled. “Don’t worry, master. I also find poetry difficult.”

“You're just dumb because you don’t read more. Not like the young master here,” Norah said, frowning at his son before smiling at the young lord. “Master, here’s the fried egg. If you can wait a bit more, the beef pie is almost done.”

“Thank you,” he nodded to her, returning her smile. “No, the fried egg is good for me,” he said, pointing to Bran, who was staring at his food hungrily. “Can you also give him the same? And, can I have some milk?”

Even though it was simple, this was the most satisfying breakfast he had ever eaten. He even asked for another serving of fried eggs. Even the beef pastry that he initially rejected, he ate two slices. He didn’t understand why he had such an appetite.

Norah and the kitchen staff couldn’t help but smile when they saw him eating with gusto. His simple gestures and unintended actions did wonders for brightening the mood of the entire kitchen. Even though the awkwardness wasn’t totally gone, it eased quite a bit, and they were no longer tense when he looked at them. They even giggled when he let out a burp after finishing his meal.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” Bertrand demanded, his face darkening as he scanned the room. All the staff froze when they saw him. “Why did you let the young master eat in this filthy place?” They all averted their gazes when he started rebuking them.

Elysian stayed quiet and observed the steward carefully. One of the things that had shocked him the most in his previous life was when he learned of this man’s betrayal.

‘My uncle said that one of his conspirators was this man here. I was shocked when I first learned about it. This man has worked for my father since the very establishment of the barony. If I remember correctly, he was an ordinary peasant. He saved my father’s life when he was attacked by bandits. This is why my father owed him a lot.

…and trusts him. In return, he became the steward of the barony and also a very trusted advisor. That’s why, even now, I can’t truly believe his betrayal. Did that bastard lie?

Hmm, no, why would he when he’s sure that he won?

The question is, when did his betrayal start? Did my father do something that caused the betrayal?

…or was he planted by my uncle from the start?‘

Elysian could only sigh. There were many questions that he couldn’t answer at the moment. As his mind wandered back to the room, he was met with the steward’s continued non-stop tirade, and this immediately soured his mood.

‘I didn’t know this annoying bastard could talk so much. He’s starting to get on my nerves.’

Elysian took a deep breath to cool his head. He didn’t want to cause more trouble for the staff. This might ruin the goodwill that he had started cultivating. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I’m the one who insisted on eating here.”

Bertrand looked at him for a moment before bowing. “It’s not your fault, young master. It’s their fault for not knowing their station. In a noble family's house, they know certain rules must be kept, more so in the Baron’s own home.” He then resumed berating them.

‘This is getting more irritating. This bastard can’t stop yapping. Shut up!’

“Could you f*cking stop!” Elysian suddenly shouted, slamming his hand on the table with so much force that everyone froze.