"Don't be mad. You need to learn to control your emotions. Getting worked up over everything like this will give you heartburn."
Luke said it with a look of gentle reassurance.
Vayne really wanted to ask him how she was supposed not to be mad.
He was the one who kept provoking her, and then he'd turn around and put on that comforting expression like he was the reasonable one.
She had never met someone this shameless.
Ever since what happened at her home, Vayne rarely had emotional swings like this.
She kept taking deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down and not get so irritable.
Her slightly lifted chest rose and fell a few times. Just as she was about to settle back into composure—
Luke casually added, "Your jacket's come undone."
Vayne looked down and saw her leather top hanging open on both sides, exposing a wide swath of pale skin. The underlayer beneath shifted with her breathing, on the verge of revealing far more than she intended.
Her expression went blank. Her mind straight-up crashed.
When she snapped back to reality, her first move wasn't to pull her clothes closed.
It was to find her crossbow.
"I'll repay this life-saving debt in my next life."
Once she had it in hand, Vayne's eyes turned so cold they looked completely emotionless. The raging fire in her heart froze into something like ice at the bottom of a cavern.
A biting chill seemed to spill off her, like it could lower the temperature around her.
She decided:
First, she'd kill Luke.
Then she'd kill herself.
And if she ever got the chance in her next life, she'd repay him properly.
Simple.
In that moment, Vayne forgot even about revenge. All she could think about was putting this insufferable man in the ground.
"It's not that serious, Vayne. It's really not that serious."
Frey rushed forward and hugged her, trying to talk her down.
Vayne struggled, trying to set a bolt, but she'd only just pushed through the venom's after-effects. Her body was weak and limp, and she couldn't muster much strength.
Luke wasn't worried at all. At this point, whether Vayne could even pull the trigger was questionable.
After struggling for a bit, Vayne gradually cooled off.
Frey helped her sit by the fire. Her top was pulled shut and secured tight now—no more skin showing at all.
Vayne stared into the flickering flames, lost in thought.
She'd only had the impulse. She wasn't actually going to kill Luke.
No matter what, he was still her savior.
It was just that someone who could be this obnoxiously calm and casually refined about it… was rare.
Luke really had opened her eyes.
And this guy was a prince.
Was this what the royal family was like now?
Was this country doomed?
After sitting there for a moment, she heard that annoying voice again.
"Rested enough? We should get moving."
Luke stood and glanced at the sky. It was fully dark now.
The academy exam group would camp out there, but Yurna Doer was probably still waiting for him.
Vayne lifted her head and said coldly, "If you want to go, then go. Why are you talking to us?"
Luke smiled. "Because you and your teacher are my bodyguards now. You didn't forget what you agreed to, did you?"
Frey had already started packing as she got up. "Of course not. Come on, Vayne. Do you have some strength back?"
Vayne remembered too. She shut her mouth and stood, looking thoroughly unwilling.
Just thinking about being stuck around this guy for days—protecting him, no less—put her in a foul mood.
She could also guess why he needed bodyguards.
With a personality this aggravating, if he didn't hire a dozen people to keep him safe, someone would've beaten him senseless sooner or later.
It wasn't that she didn't want to repay him.
It was that, in her view, there were plenty of ways to repay someone—she didn't need to become his bodyguard.
And she'd returned to Demacia to hunt down the demon from back then.
She'd finally found a lead. She didn't want to waste time.
But Frey had already agreed, and Vayne couldn't exactly overturn it.
"Quinn, hand the game over to them."
Luke spoke up. There were plenty of animals he'd taken on the road—now there were extra hands to carry the load.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Quinn answered immediately.
Frey and Vayne didn't object.
Frey felt that Luke detoxing Vayne was no different than saving her life. Combined with their prior agreement, helping out like this was only right.
As for Vayne, she was unhappy, but if her teacher did it, she had to follow.
In her heart, she respected Frey deeply—whether it was for taking in a desperate girl in the Freljord, or for teaching her everything she knew about hunting monsters.
And after years of hardship on the road, Frey's care had filled a space in Vayne's heart that felt like family.
To Vayne, Frey was irreplaceable.
They left the hunting woods.
Outside, Luke found the academy staff and had the points tallied.
In a single afternoon, the hunt had earned another thousand points.
That made two thousand five hundred in total—first place with zero pressure.
Unless something went wildly wrong over the next few days, Luke's spot at number one was locked in.
After the tally, Luke quickly found Yurna Doer waiting outside.
She'd somehow bought a carriage. It sat off to the side, and she waited quietly.
"Then, Your Highness, I'll take my leave."
Quinn stopped and spoke to Luke.
Her assignment had been to accompany him during the hunt. Now that it was over, she needed to return to the Kingdom Rangers.
Luke looked at her and invited, "It's late. Come have dinner at my place before you go. I'll cook myself."
Quinn was instantly tempted. She remembered the midday meat he'd grilled on the stone—she could still recall the aroma.
His cooking was genuinely impressive.
A few seconds later, she still shook her head. "Thank you for the invitation, Your Highness, but I'll pass. The unit has food."
She was afraid that if she ate another meal like that, she might truly not want to leave.
From what His Highness had implied earlier, he didn't plan to hunt again for the next few days.
So this goodbye might actually be a real parting.
She would return to the Rangers. As for the debt she owed him—one day, she would repay it.
Luke looked mildly surprised.
Someone could actually refuse an invitation to his cooking?
For a woman who didn't make a sound even while getting a bone set, Quinn's will really was iron.
He didn't press it. "Alright then. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Your Highness."
Quinn watched him turn and climb into the carriage, and a faint reluctance flickered in her chest.
They'd only spent one day together. She didn't even know where that feeling came from.
She stood there, a little dazed, watching the carriage roll away. Valor, perched on her shoulder, gave a reluctant cry too, tilting his head as if asking why she'd refused.
"You wanted me to say yes?" Quinn asked Valor.
Valor seemed to understand and nodded in a strangely human way.
Quinn sighed softly. "But I already missed the chance."
Her heart felt tangled.
Maybe the answer had been there the moment she hesitated.
Valor rubbed his head against her cheek in comfort.
Inside the carriage—
Even with three people, the cabin was quiet.
Vayne's face was still pale with lingering weakness. She didn't want to talk to that guy, so she closed her eyes and rested.
Frey, being from the Freljord, didn't really know what to talk about with a Demacian prince. The age gap didn't help, either.
So she stayed silent too.
As for Luke, he was still thinking about Quinn.
He found himself reflecting.
Getting refused could mean Quinn had a firm mind.
But it could also mean one thing:
His cooking wasn't good enough.
So even LV7 cooking had limits.
Next time he got an advanced cooking upgrade card, he'd prioritize cooking—no question.
He was genuinely curious what LV8 would feel like.
Before long, the carriage rolled into Edessa.
It was dark, but the city was bright with lamplight. The streets were crowded and lively.
After a bit more travel, they reached the place Yurna Doer had bought—somewhere quieter, with fewer people around.
Just as she'd said, it was a small farmhouse courtyard.
It didn't match the style of Luke's estate back in the capital at all, but the sight stirred a faint homesickness in him.
Several low brick-tiled houses sat side by side—five in total. The yard wasn't big, but it was spacious enough to move around.
A small tree stood in the courtyard, not very tall. Nearby was a rocking chair beside a patio umbrella and a small table.
There was also a little pond, still holding some water from the recent rain.
It looked like Yurna Doer had already cleaned up; the long-unused courtyard felt a little more alive.
The environment was fine. Luke wasn't picky—he was only staying a few days.
Once inside, Luke said to Vayne and Frey, "Sit for a bit. I'll make dinner."
Frey nodded instinctively.
Then a question rose in her mind.
Why was a prince cooking his own dinner?
She watched Luke head into the kitchen. Light flared inside, and his silhouette moved busily back and forth.
The two of them sat in the yard, unsure what else to do.
A while later, the sounds of cooking drifted out. Soon after, a rich aroma spilled into the courtyard, filling the air.
Frey couldn't help being surprised.
Not only could this prince cook—the smell alone made it obvious he was skilled.
She glanced at Vayne, her eyes practically asking: Are Demacia's royals really like this?
Vayne shook her head, staring toward the kitchen.
Even though she hadn't been in Demacia the last two years, she still understood nobles.
Getting those pampered "important people" to cook for themselves?
Not happening.
Clearly, only this guy was this strange.
After long travel, they really were hungry. With that scent drifting out, both their stomachs started to complain.
A little later, Luke finally brought out dinner.
The weather was nice, so they ate in the yard.
When the dishes were placed on the table Yurna Doer had prepared, both Frey and Vayne looked over.
The table was packed with meat dishes—so many kinds it was almost overwhelming.
Luke hadn't done much else today besides hunt, and he'd brought down plenty. Anything with especially good meat, he kept.
Especially the Silver-Ear Rabbit—its meat was top-tier.
He'd hunted three, and he hadn't kept a single one untouched.
One was slow-braised in a glossy sauce, one was grilled, and the last was his favorite: Nashville-hot rabbit bites.
Seeing the spread, Frey couldn't help sighing. "That's a lot of meat."
She'd spent most of her life living rough, and with the Freljord's brutal conditions, when had she ever eaten a dinner this generous?
Luke smiled. "She just got the venom out of her system. Her body's drained—she needs meat to build herself back up."
The way he said it almost sounded like concern.
Vayne paused for a split second, catching the warmth in his eyes—then she gave a cold snort. "Unnecessary concern."
And yet, something strange brushed her chest, like the lightest scratch from a fingertip.
Luke's brow lifted, about to fire back—
Smack.
Frey slammed her palm on the table. Her eyes flashed with anger as she stared Vayne down, face cold. "Enough with your childish attitude!"
Vayne jumped, startled, looking at her in disbelief.
"His Highness came back and immediately started cooking for us. He's been busy all this time. You don't have to gush with gratitude, but you do not get to say something like that. Apologize."
Frey's voice was icy, and her expression was genuinely furious.
Luke couldn't help looking at Frey again.
All day, she'd been a gentle, caring teacher.
Now she was suddenly strict, like a different person.
It made Luke think: Frey really was made to be a teacher.
He'd been ready to snap back at Vayne and make sure she couldn't climb down from it.
Even back in the capital, he didn't fuss over Lux this much. Getting cold-shouldered after doing all this? What kind of logic was that?
But Frey had cut him off and disciplined Vayne first.
That changed everything.
Vayne still hadn't fully recovered from the shock. She stared at Frey, and she knew—her teacher was truly angry.
In all the years she'd known Frey, she'd almost never seen her like this.
A wave of grievance rose up in Vayne's chest.
Then she understood: after that night, no one would indulge her stubbornness anymore.
Under Frey's stern gaze, Vayne lowered her proud head and said to Luke, "I'm sorry, Your Highness."
She kept her head down, her expression hidden.
Luke smiled. "It's fine. Eat."
Vayne was still a young woman. She claimed she was nineteen, but if Luke counted it out, she was eighteen at most.
She'd clearly added a year.
And after everything she'd been through, it wasn't strange that her personality turned out like this.
Luke wasn't the type to nitpick with a girl like that.
As he spoke, he slid the plate of Nashville-hot rabbit bites toward her.
Vayne really was hungry. And the meat in front of her looked glossy and rich, the pieces plump and tempting.
She couldn't help picking up her utensil, taking a piece, and putting it in her mouth.
The first bite was fine—more than fine. The flavor of the Silver-Ear Rabbit was so rich it felt like the best thing she'd ever eaten.
Even back when she'd lived comfortably, she'd never had anything like this.
And after two years living rough, she hadn't had a single truly good meal.
She ate a few more bites without thinking. The mild tingle at first was actually nice.
But not long after, her breathing started to quicken, and she began sucking in air through her teeth again and again.
Her face—still pale earlier from the venom—flushed visibly red.
Now she felt like a flame had detonated in her mouth. What had been a mild heat rushed straight up her skull.
In an instant, her lips and tongue were on fire.
She rarely ate spicy food. After eating this much, her scalp even started to tingle.
Her first instinct was to find something to drink.
She happened to see Luke pouring a cup of something clear.
She didn't think—she just reached out, snatched it, and gulped.
The moment it hit her mouth—
"Pfft!"
Vayne sprayed it straight out.
Luke, already prepared, shifted aside. The clear liquid splashed onto the ground.
Vayne's face was red with fury as she stared at Luke, eyes wide, demanding, "This is alcohol?!"
Her tongue felt even hotter now. The liquor doubled the burn—her mouth felt like it was actually on fire.
Luke nodded. "Yeah. Having a little drink with dinner is normal, isn't it?"
Vayne snapped, "Then why didn't you say so?"
Luke looked at her. "You didn't ask. And you grabbed it so fast—when was I supposed to tell you?"
Vayne sucked in a breath, her chest rising and falling quickly, suddenly at a loss for words.
She was certain—absolutely certain—he'd done it on purpose.
This petty bastard was getting back at her for what she said earlier.
But right now, she couldn't do anything about it.
She even wanted to slam her utensils down and leave, but with Frey right there, she forced herself to endure it.
She kept panting air, her lips—bright red and slightly parted—showing the faint tip of her tongue as she searched the table desperately for anything to cool the burn.
Luke watched her with a grin. Without that cold, distant expression, she was… almost kind of cute.
He held out a cup. "This one is water."
Vayne stared at the cup, suspicion written in her eyes.
She was convinced this was just the next trap.
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