Dinner was ready not long after.
The knights gathered first, followed by the servants. The meal was simple, soup with chunks of meat and a side of bread. Nothing extravagant. For someone like my father, who was both a knight and a commander, this kind of food was more than acceptable.
Still, the chef was with us.
And it showed.
The soup was thick and creamy, rich with flavor. The meat was tender enough to fall apart with little effort, and the bread was soft and fluffy. Dipping it into the soup made it even better.
I ate quietly.
Then, without warning, my father sat down beside me.
My body stiffened.
He picked up his bowl and began eating as if this was completely normal.
It wasn't.
I suddenly felt very aware of his presence. To avoid wasting the food, and to escape faster I finished my soup quickly. I stood up and stepped away, pretending not to notice his gaze still fixed on me.
Just as I was about to leave—
"Fainyx."
I froze.
I turned to face him.
He looked at me calmly. "Did you like the food?"
I nodded.
"I see," he said, then continued eating like that was all he wanted to ask.
That was it?
Annoyance bubbled inside me.
I turned away without another glance, handed my empty bowl to one of the servants, and walked off.
The knights nearby stared in shock.
They had never seen their commander ask something so… normal.
Once they were sure the duke wasn't paying attention, the whispers started.
One knight leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "He's so cute. I want to pinch his cheeks."
Another laughed. "Yeah! He's like a marshmallow. Way cuter than my feisty son. I want to cuddle him."
A third nodded seriously. "And he's so calm. I heard rumors he can already read and write. At two years old."
The chatter continued, full of praise and amazement.
Until a shadow loomed over them.
The knights stiffened.
Slowly, they turned around.
Their commander was standing right behind them.
Silence fell instantly.
The duke's eyes narrowed. "Fifty laps."
The knights paled.
"C-Commander, please—"
"Do you want a hundred instead?"
"No, sir! Fifty is perfect!"
They scattered immediately, sprinting across the field as fast as they could.
The duke sighed.
Then he looked around.
The child was gone.
He scanned the camp once more before heading toward the tents. Inside one of them, he finally found him, fast asleep on soft bedding the maids had prepared.
The boy's breathing was steady.
Peaceful.
His expression, blank while awake, softened in sleep. For once, he looked like a normal child.
The duke stood there silently, watching.
**********
I slept well that night.
When morning came, the camp was already busy. Servants packed the tents, knights checked the surroundings, and the carriages were prepared once more. Before long, we set off again.
Inside the carriage, it was just my father and me.
The silence returned... heavy and uncomfortable.
I sat still, my fingers unconsciously touching the small flower vase I carried with me. The leaves trembled slightly with the movement of the carriage.
After a while, my father spoke.
"Did you grow that flower yourself?"
I nodded.
He glanced at it briefly. "I see."
Another pause.
"Did you use seeds?"
I shook my head.
His gaze sharpened slightly. "Then how did you grow it?"
I didn't answer.
Instead, I turned my head and looked out the window.
For a moment, I thought he would press further, but he didn't. The duke seemed to sense that I truly didn't know the answer.
"…I see," he murmured.
Then, after a brief hesitation, he spoke again.
"Your mother grew the same plant."
I flinched.
My fingers tightened around the vase.
I looked at him.
His expression had softened, his voice unusually gentle. "She enjoyed gardening. She often grew flowers in the annex."
So it wasn't just me.
"She never told me how she grew it," he continued. "Nor where she found it. She called it *kalmia*."
My thoughts raced.
A plant that requires mana to live…
I remembered the book I had seen... the beginner's guide to magic. The description had mentioned rare plants that fed on mana rather than sunlight alone.
If that was true…
Then perhaps my suspicions were right.
My mother might have been a magician.
And maybe the unusually large mana capacity in my body... one that didn't match my small frame came from her maybe or just some traits my body have when i reincarnated here...
"She preferred the annex," my father added quietly. "More than the main palace."
Then he fell silent again.
I studied him from the corner of my eye.
At first, I had believed he hated me... believed I was the reason his wife died.
But now…
He didn't look at me with hatred.
If anything, his expression seemed conflicted.
Was I wrong?
Or did his feelings change?
I didn't know.
The days passed like that.
Forest camps.
Nights in tents.
Occasional inns in small villages.
And then...
We arrived.
The main palace stood before us, vast and imposing.
My chest tightened.
I clutched the vase again.
For the first time since the journey began—
I felt truly nervous...