CHAPTER 178
Around the time dinner had ended, Sylvestian received a summons from Eve.
He could guess the reason. It would be to report the results of carrying out the assignment he’d received via Mikael.
After obtaining Rosenitte’s permission, Sylvestian headed to Eve’s barracks.
“I have come at the call of Your Highness the Seventh Imperial Princess. I am Sylvestian Millard.”
“Come in— …No, come in.”
Sylvestian swept aside the entrance curtain and stepped inside.
And for a moment, he was startled.
Because Mikael—whom he had naturally assumed would be inside as well—was nowhere to be seen.
“Were you alone?”
“I sent Mikael off because I had something else to have him do. Sit for now. Looking up is hard on your neck.”
“You honor me.”
Since it was a sufficient justification, Sylvestian couldn’t refuse the seat.
Eve didn’t beat around the bush and went straight to the point.
“How is the Baekya Knights’ situation?”
“I investigated all twenty of them individually, but so far there are no knights saying they have had nightmares. It’s strange.”
“Mmm. Sir Millard.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Somehow, I feel like one person was left out of the investigation targets.”
What Sylvestian had thought was the main point had only been the introduction.
Eve looked at the flinching Sylvestian and continued.
“Isn’t the knight-commander himself having nightmares?”
At this point, clamping his mouth shut and lowering his gaze was practically the same as an honest answer.
Eve let out a small sigh.
“Does Rosie know?”
“Her Highness the Eighth Imperial Princess does not know.”
“Rosie isn’t the thoughtful type. I understand the circumstances well enough, so I don’t intend to blame you for not telling her first. So there’s no need to bow your head like a criminal.”
“I am sorry, Your Highness.”
Sylvestian lifted his head, but he didn’t raise his lowered gaze.
Eve found herself at a loss.
‘I’m not trying to scold him, but it’s turned into a scolding atmosphere.’
If she asked anything more like this, it would only feel like harsh interrogation.
She paused the conversation for a moment.
“Mmm. Sir Millard.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“For now, boil some water in that kettle over there. I’ve started wanting tea.”
“Is it acceptable for me to do it?”
“There isn’t really anyone else to do the work, is there? I’ll teach you, so spread it to Baekya as well.”
“You honor me.”
With this and that as justification, Eve took out the tea set and tea leaves and began teaching Sylvestian.
It was such a careful lesson that it almost felt as though she’d called him in just to teach him how to brew tea.
By the time the water in the iron kettle began to bubble and boil, Eve instructed him to take out the tea leaves.
They were pure tea leaves, not a blended mix—and even for Sylvestian, who didn’t know much about tea, they carried a rather unfamiliar fragrance.
“May I ask what kind of tea this is?”
“Just remember that it’s very precious tea leaves.”
She urged him to drink first. Eve even lightly touched Sylvestian’s teacup and cooled the tea to an appropriate temperature for him.
Sylvestian looked at his own reflection in the pale, clear green tea, then brought the cup to his lips.
And he was deeply surprised by the effect that appeared immediately.
“It feels like my head is clearing. What in the world is this tea?”
“Among things you can obtain locally, what plant would I call precious?”
“Don’t tell me… it’s World Tree leaves?”
“Correct.”
There was not only the goal of refreshing the uncomfortable air inside the barracks and bringing light to Baekya’s after-meal tea time in telling him—out of nowhere—to brew tea.
In truth, the most important point was to make Sylvestian drink World Tree tea infused with purifying power.
“Isn’t it because your energy is depleted that you’re having nightmares? You need to replenish it.
Actually, it would be even better if it were potion-steeped potion tea, but right now, all I have is stamina potion, so… ahem! It didn’t seem appropriate, so I brewed it with plain water.”
“Y-yes…”
Sylvestian, extremely embarrassed, avoided her gaze.
Eve regretted inwardly that she’d brought up something unnecessary.
‘Still, maybe because he drank World Tree tea, his complexion looks better than earlier. Thank goodness.’
Eve also put World Tree tea to her lips.
The subtle taste and scent—mysterious, as though it left a cool tingling all the way from her throat down into her stomach—was truly distinctive.
“For the record, I picked it myself. The World Tree only allows leaves for me.”
When anyone other than Eve tried to take leaves, branches, and the like, the World Tree would mercilessly lash out with its tentacle roots.
Until now, no one had harbored impure intentions toward the World Tree that kindly purified water for them, so they hadn’t realized it.
But today, Brigitte had tested it personally and proven the fact.
Remembering the anecdote of Brigitte recoiling in shock after being struck by the tentacle attack made Eve feel good.
Watching her, Sylvestian said as if casually.
“The World Tree must recognize who raised it.”
“Maybe.”
“Yes. That’s what I think. Just like an imprint, for example.”
Sylvestian looked quite gloomy as he spoke of an imprint.
As though feeling all manner of reflections, his pale blue eyes were dark and sunk low.
While Eve silently chose her words, Sylvestian opened his mouth again.
“Aren’t you going to ask what kind of nightmare it is?”
“I can roughly guess.”
“…You guessed.”
As he asked back, Sylvestian’s eyes wavered.
After he finished speaking, it even looked like he’d taken a small breath in.
Eve continued, since the topic had come up.
“Isn’t Ambroxa said to be the most cunning demonic dragon? And Sir Millard, you’re one of the finest knights.
To tarnish your noble chivalry, it must have made you dream of doing things that are condemned as sinful.”
Sylvestian looked startled at Eve’s accurate insight.
Eve felt a little awkward.
‘I only know because of Mikael, but.’
And what Eve had heard from Mikael about Ambroxa’s tastes was quite vicious.
Rather than being the cruel and terrifying sort, there was a strong likelihood it belonged to a more insidious and obscene genre.
To make a noble knight recite the contents of such a dream would be no different from a horrific form of mental torture.
‘It’s obviously going to be a nightmare where Rosie torments him—what’s the point of asking?
Just how awful must it have been every night for a knight like Sir Millard to be having nightmares?’
Blaming Rosenitte as the problem, Eve set aside thoughts about Sylvestian’s dreams.
Her assumptions and process were excellent—while she remained completely unaware that her conclusion was wrong.
In any case, Eve couldn’t stand by and watch Sylvestian crumble, so she gave him words of absolution.
“Don’t blame yourself over a distorted illusion. A nightmare is only a nightmare.”
“I will gratefully carve those words into my heart.”
As Sylvestian answered, he desperately hoped it would truly be so.
Only then would he have the face to meet Eve’s eyes.
“Ah, and from now on, come every night to drink World Tree tea.”
“Is that truly acceptable?”
“It’s not just acceptable—it’s an obligation. As the Baekya Knights’ commander, you must maintain a healthy mind.”
“…Understood.”
Though it was certainly a dry pretext, Sylvestian felt the left side of his chest throb warmly.
He told himself it was because of her naturally gentle disposition, and he tried hard to shake off his wandering thoughts.
“Then I will take my leave.”
“Have a good night.”
Having observed proper etiquette, Sylvestian stepped outside the barracks.
And there he encountered someone who looked as though he had been guarding the entrance area for quite some time.
“Silvi.”
“…Ah, Mikael.”
It was Mikael—Sylvestian’s close friend, and the knight whose rightful place was at Eve’s side.
Since entering Dandelion, there had been a noticeable increase in how often he let a strange pressure leak from him.
Even Sylvestian, who ordinarily wouldn’t have known, could now feel it on his skin.
So perhaps that was why.
The reason he felt a slight discomfort upon facing Mikael right now.
Sylvestian was fighting down the impulse to avert his gaze when Mikael opened his mouth.
“Ambroxa is a demonic dragon with extremely bad taste. Don’t be toyed with by nightmares.”
The tone was so calm it was almost indifferent, but the content was no different from an ambush.
Sylvestian let out a low, muffled sound and made a bitter face.
“So you knew.”
“You wear it all over your face.”
“It’s that you’re perceptive.”
“Let’s say it’s both.”
“Then… did you tell Her Highness?”
“No.”
The firm denial was extremely unexpected to Sylvestian.
When his eyes widened slightly, Mikael added:
“It seems Her Highness is quite concerned about you.”
“Her Highness…? Really?”
A different light rose in his pale blue eyes.
But thinking it wasn’t something to show Mikael, Sylvestian hurriedly lowered his gaze.
Mikael pretended not to see and returned to the main point.
“About the nightmares.”
“Don’t be so strict with yourself. It’s not your dream—it’s the demonic dragon’s dream. No matter what filthy dream you have, it isn’t your fault.”
“That’s… I know that too.”
Sylvestian couldn’t comfortably accept Mikael’s concern and comfort, and could only reply ambiguously.
Because he wondered—if Mikael ever learned what kind of dreams Sylvestian had been having—could he truly maintain the attitude he had now?
‘It would be lucky if he didn’t draw his sword and challenge me to a duel.’
Of course, Sylvestian intended to keep such a fact sealed in secrecy until the day he died, carrying it alone.
Before the atmosphere grew any more uncomfortable, Sylvestian tried to wrap up the topic.
And there was something he needed to say in advance as well.
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but Her Highness the Seventh Imperial Princess recommended that I come every night and drink World Tree tea.”
“To receive precious nighttime hours from my liege—what an honor.
I hope it has an effect.”
“…I’m glad you aren’t uncomfortable about it.”
“The purpose is clearly treatment, so I have no intention of attaching unnecessary meaning to it. Above all, my liege and my close friend are both people who value honor.”
As Mikael said that, he wore a faint smile.
It was the face of someone who truly trusted.
Sylvestian was quietly astonished that a homunculus could even make such a face.
And Mikael had, after all, once been imprisoned in the Sky Prison and abandoned in despair for years.
It was strange that someone like that could smile as though he’d never once been betrayed.
‘It must be because of Her Highness the Seventh Imperial Princess.’
It was certain that all of this change had come after he became Eve’s personal knight.
Sylvestian forced himself to shake off his thoughts, then opened his mouth with genuine sincerity.
“Thank you, Mikael.”
As he answered, Sylvestian’s gaze was directed toward the distant night sky.
Because he hoped Mikael would not read the light of envy lodged in his eyes.