NRAL | Chapter 146

Chapter 146

A Battle of Wits

The castle tour, which began with polite but superficial greetings, proceeded surprisingly smoothly.

Seth first told them the names and locations of the places they would visit today, then led the group along the most efficient route.

As they followed him around, Royster Castle revealed itself to be lively and full of energy. It was almost unbelievable that monsters appeared beyond the massive castle walls—everyone’s faces were bright, and the atmosphere was relaxed. The buildings, though smaller than those in Juvenile, were sturdy and beautiful, making it fun to look around.

There was also plenty to enjoy.

When they arrived at a huge workshop, Hilda’s eyes sparkled.

At the blacksmith, Ernst’s face lit up with excitement.

Eleanor gifted them fine lace and a high-quality sword.

The two tried to refuse, saying it was too much, but ended up accepting the gifts with care. Seeing that, Eleanor also felt pleasantly warmed.

It was much more enjoyable than she had expected.

She thought Seth would give a half-hearted tour and then disappear to handle his own business.

But instead, he properly explained all the important areas of the castle and answered Eleanor’s occasional questions in detail. Even when they bought things in various shops, he handled the transactions for her since she was an outsider.

His actions were so meticulous that it was hard to believe he supposedly disliked her.

But proving her earlier suspicions correct, his eyes remained cold throughout.

His tone, too, was stiff—his wariness toward her openly visible.

***

“That bastard, I really don’t like him. Should I just gouge out his eyes?”

The moment they returned to the room after the tour, Hilda burst out angrily.

At least she waited until Seth had left—small blessings.

“Sir Ernst, can’t you beat that guy? Would you lose in a fight?”

“What are you talking about? Of course I’d win.”

Ernst, who had been lovingly touching the sword Eleanor gifted him, frowned as if he had just heard nonsense.

“Really? Then please, find the right chance and smash his nose!”

Inspired by Hilda’s words, Ernst nodded vigorously.

This is bad. Hilda is corrupting Sir Ernst.

Eleanor sighed internally and said,

“He didn’t seem like such a bad person.”

“What?”

Hilda’s voice shot up.

Even Ernst stared at Eleanor with disbelief.

Unlike them, Eleanor truly didn’t think Seth was that terrible.

From what she observed, he was someone who took his duties seriously and didn’t bring personal feelings into work.

Eleanor liked people who did their jobs well.

His attitude toward her was a bit cold, but she had no intention of becoming close to him anyway, so she didn’t mind.

More importantly, Seth was someone who worked closest to Karsian—someone Karsian trusted and kept by his side.

That alone earned him a generous evaluation from her.

“In my experience, people who openly show their wariness are easier to deal with. Much better than those who hide a knife behind a smiling face.”

When she added that, both Hilda and Ernst fell quiet.

Her tone was too familiar—like someone who had met many such people.

Their hearts ached a little.

How many of those ‘smiling people with hidden knives’ had she met?

Hilda pretended to wipe away nonexistent tears.

Knock, knock.

All three turned toward the door.

A not-unfamiliar voice followed.

“My lady, it’s Amira. I’m coming in.”

Amira entered without waiting for Eleanor’s permission.

Before Hilda could even protest, Amira began speaking.

“His Grace contacted us. The subjugation is taking a little longer, so he will return tomorrow. Although His Grace cannot dine with you tonight, our palace chef has prepared a special meal just for you. Please come.”

For some reason, Amira’s attitude was uncommonly gentle.

She smiled brightly as she spoke about dinner—it was almost like she was a different person.

Because of that, it became difficult to criticize her for barging in without permission.

“Yes, I’ll go.”

There was no need to scold the first person to approach her kindly.

Whether that kindness had ulterior motives or not—she didn’t know yet.

When Eleanor nodded quietly, Amira smiled with satisfaction. Then, in a suddenly worried tone, she added:

“By the way, the maids said you skipped dinner yesterday.”

“Oh, yes. I was tired and fell asleep early.”

Last night, after finding out something had happened to Karsian, she had quickly fallen asleep.

She was tired, and skipping a meal was easier on her stomach anyway.

Since childhood, she had grown used to maintaining a thin figure under Duke Astria’s strict orders.

“…Winter is coming. His Grace will be away often from now on.”

Amira’s voice and expression shifted strangely.

Eleanor waited quietly for her to continue, not knowing why Karsian was suddenly brought up.

“If you skip meals every time His Grace is away, it puts me in a difficult position. We cannot give His Grace unnecessary worries when he is out fighting monsters, can we?”

The scolding tone rang in Eleanor’s ears.

She stared with wide, shocked eyes.

The head maid in front of her was treating her like a child—

A spoiled child throwing a tantrum because her lover wasn’t around to eat with her.

“That’s not it. I was just tired yesterday. I don’t have a big appetite—”

“Yes, of course. But you must follow Royster’s rules while in Royster. Refusing food that was prepared for you is rude. The former duchess strongly disliked wasting good food.”

Eleanor fell silent, stunned.

Interrupting her mid-sentence…

Lecturing her in a mocking tone…

Things like this were unthinkable in Cardiff.

If Mary, Astria’s head maid, saw this scene, she would foam at the mouth.

If this were the Astria estate, Eleanor would have punished Amira immediately.

But this was not Astria, and she was no longer the duke’s daughter.

So she chose silence.

Amira was just about to smile triumphantly when—

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Ernst, standing behind Eleanor, stepped forward.

His voice was frighteningly cold—Eleanor had never heard him sound like that.

“Pardon? I was simply worried about the young lady’s health.”

“Is that how Royster expresses concern for the person they serve?”

Amira’s face twisted at the phrase “the person they serve.”

She wanted to shout that Eleanor was not the one she served.

But she couldn’t—not when Karsian might hear of it.

So instead, she aimed for an easier target.

“My lady, I think your knight misunderstood me. You understood my meaning, didn’t you? If so, please calm him.”

Her expression made it look more like an order than a request.

Hilda was about to explode, but Eleanor raised a hand to stop them.

“I understand, Amira.”

Eleanor, again, seemed compliant.

Just as Amira expected—

But when Eleanor stepped forward, Amira flinched without meaning to.

“But you should be careful with words that are easily misunderstood. I’ll change clothes and come to the dining room. You may go ahead.”

She was neither angry nor loud.

Yet an overwhelming pressure radiated from her.

The kind of pressure only those born to nobility possessed—even if she was a “fake” duke’s daughter, she was still raised like one.

Amira grit her teeth, furious that she had been intimidated by this young girl even for a moment.

“…The meal is nearly ready. Please don’t be late.”

Wiping all traces of her smile, Amira left in an icy voice.

As soon as the door closed, Hilda erupted.

“Is she insane?! How dare she speak to you like that—! Did she eat something rotten? That crazy old hag—”

The curses that followed were too filthy to repeat.

Even Ernst, who normally stopped her, nodded along with an angry face.

Eleanor was also upset.

She expected to be ignored, but Amira’s hostility was far stronger than she had thought.

Seth merely kept his guard up,

but behind the head maid’s polite smile, she sensed real malice.

“For now… since dinner is prepared, let’s go.”

She sighed.

She had a feeling the coming days would be tiring.

And she wasn’t wrong.

***

After changing clothes and arriving at the dining room, a new problem appeared.

A large table that could seat ten people was completely filled with an extravagant feast.

Far too much for one person.

At first, Eleanor wondered if someone else would be dining with her.

But there was only one set of tableware.

So all of this was prepared solely for her.

Why would that be a problem?

Simple.

Every single dish was unfamiliar.

From the moment she entered, a strong scent of unknown spices hit her.

Almost nothing on the table was food she recognized.

All of them were traditional Roister dishes.

“Is Royster food usually this different from Juvenile’s?”

Hilda whispered in confusion.

Eleanor shook her head.

Royster and Juvenile shared a border, and much of their culture came from the same roots.

Of course, their environments differed, so small differences existed—

but food couldn’t be completely foreign.

But today— with Karsian gone— the table was purposely filled with food she wouldn’t know.

They were trying to intimidate her from the start.

“Unnecessarily,” she murmured.

Eleanor sat down and picked up her fork.

She couldn’t finish all this food, but she could eat some.

She had once swallowed a live mouse— a bit of unfamiliar smell wasn’t going to stop her.

Calmly, she took the nearest dish and put it in her mouth without hesitation.

No questions, no complaints.

Just eating.

The cooking was skillful, and though unfamiliar, it was edible.

Compared to days she starved at the orphanage, anything was delicious.

The maids exchanged glances.

They were clearly disappointed—their plan wasn’t working.

Near the end of the meal, the chef himself came out to see her.

“H-hello, my lady. I’m Billy West, head chef of Trava Palace. Did the food suit your taste…?”

Billy’s voice trembled.

His face had gone pale, as if he might faint.

So it wasn’t his doing.

Eleanor immediately understood the fear in his eyes.

“Yes, everything I ate was delicious.”

Someone had probably hoped she would yell at the poor chef.

Or feel humiliated and storm out.

But she didn’t need to meet anyone’s expectations.

She instead smiled softly.

“But next time, could you use a little less spice? I’m not used to it yet.”

“Y-yes! Of course! I’ll keep that in mind!”

Relieved, the chef bowed repeatedly before leaving.

Some might call the ending anticlimactic.

The maids didn’t get the drama they wanted, and all Eleanor got was a heavy stomach.

But for now, anticlimactic was the best outcome.

Thinking that, she returned to her room.

She finally saw Karsian again the next evening.