“Were you eating them randomly in the hope that one of these herbs would cure your illness?”
At that moment, the man's green eyes wavered.
I was sure.
“You got a job in the area because you thought the lord was growing those weeds.”
All the plants in my garden were medicinal herbs, ranging from common herbs used as base ingredients to rare herbs that were difficult to find in normal places.
It must have seemed to him an irresistible feast.
“How – no, that’s not it...”
“You can eat it.”
"truly?!"
The man, who had lunged, quickly covered his mouth.
“No, I mean...”
He stammered, then quietly rolled his eyes, as if reconsidering.
He looked at me again.
“There is no such thing as kindness without expecting something in return.”
"You don't have to eat like a beast.
I'll get medicine for you."
“Maybe...
Do you know what disease I have?”
“You are infected with parasites from eating freshwater fish caught in the waters where the monsters live.”
“...!”
Before he could say anything else, I quickly handed him the drawing I had prepared.
“In return, make this tool for me.
Perfectly.”
* * *
“What kind of weapon is this?”
Dale looked at me curiously.
The alchemist quickly created the piece you requested.
It was elegant, graceful, and had the perfect curve – exactly the scoop I wanted.
“This is a shovel.
Not a weapon.”
“Ah, the shovel…that thing from before.
Understood.”
“Even though you don't understand.”
“……”
He pretended to understand, but the innocent look in his eyes showed that he had no idea.
“Can you farm with a small tool like this?”
"Of course!
It's especially useful for digging small areas rather than weeding a large field.
It requires less arm strength."
“It will be very useful when growing herbs.”
Dale said, smiling at me.
“Enya, you know a lot of interesting things.”
Have I ever shown Dale anything interesting?
I didn't think so.
“Well, maybe I did, but I don't remember.”
Living with Dale became more normal.
I looked at Dale as he enjoyed the warm sunshine.
This peaceful day suited his gentle nature perfectly.
“The ring – I picked it up but I didn’t know who it was for, so I kept it.”
The alchemist returned the ring to me.
“You look happy.”
“Of course, I found the ring, and the job is done!”
Dale gave me a somewhat ambiguous smile.
“So, it's not because of the gift.”
"gift?"
"nothing."
Dale's expression seemed particularly calm.
I found the ring and made the shovel.
Now, the next step...
“I think I'll try selling the shovel.”
Dale looked at me with wide eyes.
"It's useful for digging small amounts of soil and harvesting small crops.
It also puts less strain on the wrist.
Gardening is popular among the nobles in the capital, isn't it?"
I was confident this would make money.
However, Dale, who was listening quietly, did not seem relieved.
“Enya, why do you want to make money so passionately?”
huh?
His unexpected question made me blink.
Dale looked at me with a face that looked like he was about to cry and apologize at the same time.
“I'm sorry I can't do much for you.”
“Dale...”
It seemed like Dale was misunderstanding something.
"I just like making a lot of money.
So, don't worry about it.
Dale, you do everything for me except make money."
They weren't just comforting words, they were the truth.
Dale did everything from the chores, the exterior of our house, everything Dale did.
Dale treated me almost like a caretaker, raising me gently and meticulously.
It was no different from how animals were raised.
Well fed and well rested.
“But there is something strange.”
"queerness?"
I stirred my hair as I remembered the alchemist's words.
“He said he was staying in the castle because house prices were so high.”
That seemed strange to me.
Czech.
At that moment, the kettle on the stove started making a loud noise.
Dale went to the kitchen to make two cups and steep the tea.
“Is this what's strange?”
Dale spoke softly, as if it was a nice story, while smiling.
“When I came here, I was told there was not a single house available.”
“……”
“But now, there seem to be enough houses to accommodate the newcomers.
Hmm… isn’t that strange?
Oh, Dell!”
I ran to Dale in shock.
dotting.
He was pouring hot water on the table instead of a cup of tea.
Dale stood there with a hard face.
I quickly cooled his hand with cold water.
“This is boiling water.
You have to be careful!
Burns can be very serious.
Are you hurt?
Let me see.”
His hand that touched the table had turned red.
He appears to have suffered minor burns.
"Do you get your pants wet?
Your feet?
Oh, fortunately, they're dry.
That's convenient."
I hurriedly got the first aid kit and cooled his hand.
But Dale still looked stunned.
“When you're holding something hot, you can't stand there in a daze.
You know better...”
Seeing Dale's beautiful hand turn red made me feel upset.
A handsome man should be cherished and carefully maintained.
I gently held Dale's hand in both of my own.
Despite the appearance of his hand, his palm was a bit rough.
"Why are you like that?
I didn't hurt my hand.
Look at your hand, Dale."
“If there's another home available, it looks like you'll be leaving right away, Enya.”
Dale's voice was low
“Do you hate being with me...?”
I quickly rolled up Dale's sleeve and wrapped a bandage around his hand.
His large, broad hand radiated warmth.
As I tied the bandage, I looked into his golden eyes.
Dale's eyes wavered.
“Do you really hate me?”
"What?"
I replayed what Dale said earlier in my head.
"Oh, that.
No, not that.
I just find it strange.
I like being with you, Del.
I really do."
“!”
"It doesn't hurt, right?
It's not a serious burn.
Be careful."
“...Do you really mean that?”
"Yes.
Have you ever seen me lie to you, Dale?"
Well, I lied a little.
Dale's childish question was surprising and endearing.
His golden eyes sparkled as he looked at the bandage.
“That's not what I meant, but...”
“What?
Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“Never mind.
It's nothing.”
Dale smiled sheepishly.
“Does it hurt?”
She held Dale's hand gently.
His eyes widened in astonishment and shame.
“…It kind of hurts, but I’m not sure.”
“Really?
If it hurts that much, we should go to the clinic far away.”
“There's no need for that.
But if you touch my hand again, I can check whether I'm in pain or not.”
"Okay, how about here?
This part doesn't seem to hurt too bad.
Is he okay?"
She gently rubbed the bandaged back of his hand.
Dale, who had been watching me silently, shook his head.
“It hurts a little.”
I carefully caressed Dale's hand.
And every time he repeated: “It kind of hurts, but I’m not sure.”
I thought to myself that it might be Dale.
A little clingy.
But pretending not to notice is probably the polite thing to do.
I felt a sense of satisfaction, thinking I understood Dale a little better today.