Chapter 193: Night Dinner Near The Stream

The camp had settled into a quieter rhythm by the time dinner was served.

The Rubenhart knights had arranged a makeshift dining area near the center of the clearing, far enough from the stream that the ground remained dry and stable. Thick fallen logs had been placed around the fire, with broad planks resting over two of them to create simple benches. It was hardly comparable to the polished dining hall of the royal castle, but the knights had done their best to make it comfortable.

A large fire burned at the center.

Its flames rose and curled against the dark sky, sending sparks upward toward the stars. The heat reached the sisters where they sat together on one of the benches, warming their hands and faces against the cool night air. Behind them, tents had been set up in orderly rows: a large command tent near the carriage, several smaller tents for the knights, and a separate one for the three sisters.

The smell of dinner drifted through the camp.

The meal was simple by royal standards, yet warm and satisfying. Thick stew filled with tender meat and root vegetables had been ladled into wooden bowls. Fresh bread had been warmed beside the fire, and small cups of sweet herbal tea had been prepared to ward off the evening chill.

Esther held her bowl carefully in both hands.

Steam rose against her face as she blew on the stew before taking a bite.

"It is good," she declared.

Airam looked at her.

"You have not even swallowed it yet."

"I know it is good already," she giggled.

Hermione sat beside Esther, tearing a small piece from her bread. Seeing a firefly passing by, she smiled a little.

"You should let it cool first," she said. "You will burn your tongue, Esther."

"I am being careful, big sister."

Esther took another bite.

Then she immediately made a small sound and covered her mouth.

Hermione sighed.

"You are not being careful."

Airam reached for her cup of tea and pushed it nearer.

"Drink."

Esther obeyed.

Across the fire, several Rubenhart knights ate in quiet conversation. Their voices stayed low, but the sisters could hear occasional laughter mixed with the clink of bowls and the soft stamping of horses nearby. Others remained at their posts, moving along the edge of the clearing or standing watch on the small rise behind the camp.

The firelight could not reach the entire field.

Beyond the tents and lanterns, darkness waited in every direction.

Esther turned in her seat.

Her eyes searched the camp until she found Ulrich.

He was not near the fire.

He stood at the far edge of the clearing, where the open grass met the distant tree line. His black traveling coat moved faintly in the night breeze as he walked in a slow circle around the perimeter. One gloved hand was extended before him, fingers moving with precise gestures.

Crimson mana glowed beneath his fingertips.

It spilled into the grass in thin lines, faint at first, then brighter as the spell settled into place. The light traveled through the ground like a thread of red fire, forming runes that flashed once before sinking beneath the soil.

Ulrich continued onward.

He did not rush.

He paused every few steps to inspect the mana structure, sometimes lowering his hand close to the earth, sometimes drawing a new rune into the air. The barrier he was creating would surround the camp in several layers: a warning spell to alert him if something entered the perimeter, a deterrent against ordinary beasts, and a defensive layer strong enough to delay anyone foolish enough to approach under cover of darkness.

It was something he did whenever they traveled.

The Rubenhart knights were already trained to select secure places for camp. They had scouts. They had watch rotations. They had horses, blades, and enough experience to recognize an unsafe clearing.

But Ulrich still made his own barriers.

He always did.

Esther watched him for a while.

"I wish Lord Ulrich would eat with us," she said.

Hermione followed Esther’s gaze.

Ulrich had moved farther around the camp now. The crimson glow cast sharp light over his face, catching against the line of his cheekbones and the crimson strands of hair that had fallen loose near his jaw. His expression was serious, entirely focused on the magic beneath his hand.

For a moment, Hermione forgot the bowl in her lap.

She watched the mana move.

Crimson light reflected in Ulrich’s dark red eyes. The spellwork rose around him in brief, glowing patterns before dissolving into the ground. He looked almost unreal beneath the moonlight and firelight combined: tall, standing with the same unshakable control he carried into every situation.

He had been injured only a day ago.

He had been told to rest.

And now he was walking around the entire camp, personally securing every side of it because he did not trust anyone else, not entirely, to keep them safe.

Hermione’s chest tightened.

Ulrich turned his head.

His eyes met hers across the clearing.

Hermione froze.

For one second, she realized she had been staring far too long.

Heat rushed into her cheeks.

She looked down at her stew immediately and lifted her spoon, pretending she had been deeply interested in the vegetables floating inside it.

Her heartbeat had become loud enough that she was certain her sisters could hear it.

Airam could.

Airam looked at Hermione.

Hermione refused to raise her eyes.

Esther, who had missed the entire exchange because she was still watching Ulrich’s barrier spell, frowned.

"Big Sister, are you warm?"

"No."

"Your face is red."

"It is the fire."

"The fire is in front of us."

"I know that."

"You are not looking at it."

Hermione’s grip tightened around her spoon.

"Eat your dinner, Esther."

Esther looked between them, then toward Ulrich again.

"He looks cool," she said.

Hermione nearly dropped her spoon.

"Esther."

"What?"

"He is setting a barrier," Airam said. "That is all."

"It is still cool," she grinned.

Esther turned toward Hermione, her eyes bright.

"When I become stronger, I will help Lord Ulrich set barriers too."

Hermione’s embarrassment faded slightly.

She looked at Esther.

The younger girl held her spoon in one hand, her expression earnest in the warm orange light.

"I do not want him to do everything alone," Esther continued. "He protects us all the time. He protects the estate. He protects the knights. He protects the Queen and Princess Camellia and everyone."

Esther’s gaze lowered.

"He got hurt because he was protecting someone again."

She looked at her sisters.

"So I will become strong. Then I can protect Lord Ulrich too."

Hermione set her spoon down.

For a brief moment, her fingers clenched around the handle of her fork.

"When I become strong enough," she said, "I will do it as well."

Esther smiled.

"You will?"

"I will. Someone needs to watch over him so he won’t get killed," Hermione nodded.

Airam watched Hermione without speaking.

The words had come with more force than expected.

Hermione noticed, and a faint blush returned to her cheeks. She picked up her spoon again, pretending nothing important had been said.

Esther reached for Hermione’s sleeve.

"Then we can all protect him."

Hermione looked at the small hand holding her arm.

Then she smiled.

"Yes."

A faint sound came from behind them.

Bootsteps crossing grass.

Ulrich had finished the barrier.

The crimson glow around the edge of the camp faded gradually, becoming invisible once the mana settled fully into the ground. Only Ulrich could see the final trace of the spell structure now, a nearly transparent web surrounding the clearing.

He walked toward the fire.

The warmth illuminated him more clearly as he approached. A Rubenhart knight stepped forward right after, holding out a wooden plate piled with dinner and a cup of tea.

"My lord."

Ulrich accepted both.

The knight bowed and returned to his own place near the fire.

Ulrich walked to the opposite side of the makeshift table and sat on a broad fallen log across from the sisters.

Esther immediately straightened.

"Lord Ulrich."

Ulrich looked at her.

"Eat."

Esther blinked.

"I am eating."

"You are talking more than you are eating."

"I was talking about becoming strong."

"That does not require you to let your food grow cold."

Esther looked down at her bowl.

Then she took a large spoonful of stew.

Ulrich began eating his own meal.

For a few minutes, no one spoke.

The fire crackled between them.

The knights moved quietly around the clearing, their armor producing faint sounds whenever they changed positions. Somewhere near the stream, a horse snorted. The crickets continued their endless chorus beyond the circle of light.

Ulrich ate as always, as calm as ever, keeping his perfect posture even in this awkward sitting.

He did not complain about the simple meal. He did not praise it either. He broke a piece from the bread, dipped it into the stew, and ate in silence while keeping one part of his attention fixed on the camp.

Hermione noticed.

Even while seated with them, his eyes shifted occasionally toward the darker edges of the clearing. He watched the watchmen. He watched the tents. He watched the road.

He never truly stopped guarding them.

At last, Ulrich set down his spoon.

"You should finish soon," he said. "Then go to your tent."

Esther looked disappointed.

"Already?"

"You want to sleep, do you not?"

"Yes, but..."

"We will depart early tomorrow to reach New Rubenhart by afternoon"

Esther nodded quickly.

"Then I will sleep a lot!"

Then, apparently deciding she needed to finish as quickly as possible, she scooped an enormous bite of stew into her mouth.

Her eyes widened.

She began coughing.

Hermione dropped her spoon.

"Esther!"

Airam reacted first.

She set down her own bowl, moved close, and patted Esther between the shoulders. With her other hand, she pushed the cup of water into Esther’s trembling hands.

"Drink," Airam ordered.

Esther grabbed the cup.

She took several hurried sips, coughing again before the food finally went down properly.

Her cheeks had turned red.

Her eyes watered.

Ulrich watched her in silence for a second.

Then he said, "I said to finish soon. I did not say to choke."

Esther lowered the cup.

"I—I am sorry, hic."

"Eat slowly," Airam said.

"Yes, Eldest Sister."

Airam’s hand remained on Esther’s back for a moment longer.

Then she returned to her own place.

Esther looked at her, still embarrassed but grateful.

"Thank you, Eldest Sister."

Airam nodded.

"Do not do it again."

"Hm."

Esther gave a small, guilty smile.

Ulrich picked up his spoon again.

Hermione watched him for another moment.

Then she asked, "What is the hurry?"

Ulrich looked toward her.

"There is no hurry."

Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly.

"You are not someone who rushes without a reason."

Ulrich did not answer immediately.

The firelight moved across his face.

"You told us to leave the capital tonight," Hermione continued. "You set more barriers than usual around the camp. You have doubled the watch. And now you are insisting we leave early enough to reach New Rubenhart by afternoon."

Airam’s gaze shifted toward Ulrich.

Even Esther, now chewing in very small and careful bites, looked up.

Hermione folded her hands around her bowl.

For a brief moment, Ulrich said nothing.

She was observant.

Or rather, all three of them were observant, especially toward him. They seemed to understand better and better what he was thinking, actually just by looking at some of his manners.

Well, it had been two years, but it was still surprising. Obviously, only that wasn’t enough; it was just that the three sisters had been observing Ulrich a lot the past two years, not all for the same reason, but they did observe him a lot.

Regardless, Ulrich had no intentions of scaring them on a slim possibility born out of his usual paranoia.

"There is no trouble," he said.

Hermione stared at him.

Then she turned back to her meal.

"Hmph."

Ulrich looked at her.

Hermione continued eating.

Her cheeks were slightly puffed with annoyance.