Even If You Tear Me Apart - Chapter 8
“That’s right. The very jealous Udal’s most beloved commander of the paladins!”
Shanka emphasized every syllable with dramatic flair.
But Iris Quilluxia seemed to be only half-listening. Her gaze remained fixed in Ezekiel’s direction.
Shanka resisted the urge to press his palm against his forehead.
‘Why oh why did they send the Commander to escort a bride-to-be…?’
It was inevitable—another young lady was about to fall into the throes of a one-sided crush.
Of course, Shanka couldn’t exactly warn her off with a comment like, Don’t go coveting the Commander. That would be far too rude.
‘I guess it’s a good thing that the Marquis came along’
Shanka glanced over at the Marquis’s tent.
As he pondered, Milena passed by carrying a box of ingredients and plopped a cabbage leaf on Shanka’s head.
“What’s this?” Shanka asked, lifting the cabbage leaf and giving her a puzzled look.
Milena snorted.
“You were complaining about the heat earlier, so here you go.”
“What does cabbage have to do with being hot?”
“Try keeping it on your head. It’ll cool you down.”
Just then, one of the squires called out,
“We’re having cabbage stew for dinner tonight!”
Shanka twirled the cabbage leaf on his head and grinned when he realized it actually felt cool.
“Hey, it works!”
Iris Quilluxia, who had turned back toward them, smiled awkwardly, seemingly amused by the silly scene. The evening air was peaceful.
***
Even after the stew had finished cooking, the Marquis remained holed up inside his tent. Milena, naturally, found this annoying.
“Is he having dinner separately?”
“He’s not going to eat with us, that’s for sure,” Shanka replied.
When the Marquis had first joined the escort procession, he had pompously declared, “I won’t trouble the paladins. I’ll take care of my future wife myself.”
But the problem was, the Marquis had only brought his personal guard, two attendants, and a maid to attend to Iris Quilluxia.
The paladins had all doubted how he planned to manage with such a small entourage.
And, as expected.
The maid wasn’t attending to Iris at all—she was outside the tent, fumbling around as she tried to set up a portable stove and light a fire. Meanwhile, Shanka, who had just brought over the finished stew, chuckled at the sight.
“Did he bring a kitchen maid or a noble lady’s maid? Pick one.”
“The latter, obviously. Look how clumsy she is.”
The maid was frantically moving around, but she clearly wasn’t skilled at starting a fire.
“She’s struggling to even get the fire going,” Milena remarked.
Unable to watch any longer, she was about to send a squire over with a flint when Iris Quilluxia stepped out of the carriage.
Taking the flint from the maid, Iris expertly struck a spark and got the fire going in no time. The maid clapped her hands in delight, and Shanka chuckled again.
“She must have lived on a rural estate to be good at this.”
His tone wasn’t mocking—it was more like the amused affection of an older brother watching children play house.
Milena shrugged, and the squire quickly stowed the flint back into their supplies.
“Commander.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Ezekiel had just sat down with a bowl of stew after finishing his rounds to inspect the camp.
The paladins, accustomed to their duties of traveling across the empire, were used to sleeping outdoors. Eating stew from wooden bowls around a campfire was, to them, something to be grateful for.
“Udal, we thank you for today’s meal,” Shanka said, concluding the brief prayer that was customary before meals.
Just then, the Marquis’s maid came scurrying toward them.
“What is it?”
“Forgive me, but I have a request…”
The maid clasped her hands together nervously and spoke hesitantly.
“The Marquis is extremely hungry, and we’re not quite used to preparing meals in a camp…”
In other words, the Marquis had talked big about handling his own meals but was now starving because his small entourage couldn’t manage. Judging by the maid’s reddened, chafed hands, it was clear she had been struggling with tasks beyond her skill.
The knights bit their lips to hold back laughter while silently exchanging awkward looks.
Because everything in the temple operated on donations, the paladins had learned to be frugal by nature. They had only prepared enough food for themselves, as the Marquis had explicitly said he didn’t need their help.
Sharing their food wasn’t the issue—it was the fact that if they did, some knights would have to wait for additional stew to be cooked.
Ezekiel, however, made a swift decision.
“If this will do, please take it.”
Ezekiel handed over the bowl that was clearly meant for him, and realizing this, the maid looked flustered.
