As dinner was ending, Sylvestian was called by Eve.
“I have come at the request of Her Highness the 7th Princess. My name is Sylvestian Millard.”
“Come in... No, come in.”
“Were you alone?”
“I sent Michael away because I have something to do. For now, sit down. Your neck will hurt if you look up.”
“I'm sorry.”
It was a sufficient excuse for Sylvestian to refuse the position.
Eve got straight to the point without hesitation.
“What’s the status of the Knights of the White Night?”
“Hmm, Sir Millard.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“It seems like one of the subjects is missing.”
“Aren’t you, the commander of the knights, having a nightmare?”
“Does Rosie know?”
“Her Highness the Eighth Princess does not know.”
“I am sorry, Your Highness.”
Sylvestian raised his head but did not look down.
I was in an awkward position.
'I didn't mean to scold you, but the atmosphere has become such that I'm scolding you.'
“Hmm, Sir Millard.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“First, pour some water into the kettle over there. I feel like making some tea.”
“Is it okay if I do it?”
“You don’t even have enough hands. I’ll teach you, so spread the word even in the middle of the night.”
“I'm sorry.”
I took out the teapot and tea leaves and made excuses for this and that.
I started teaching Sylvestian how to make tea.
It was such a sincere class that I felt like it was meant to teach him something.
As the water in the kettle began to boil, I instructed him to take out the tea leaves.
“Can I ask what kind of tea it is?”
“Just know that these are very precious tea leaves.”
“I feel like my head is clearing up. What kind of tea is it?”
“What plants are there that I can find locally that I would consider valuable?”
“Could it be... a leaf of the World Tree?”
“Correct answer.”
The reason I was suddenly asked to make tea was because of the uncomfortable conditions in the barracks.
It wasn't just meant to refresh the air and shed light on the Knights of the White Night's after-dinner tea time.
In fact, the most important thing is that Sylvestian has the power of purification.
It was meant to make him drink the tea.
“You must be having nightmares because your energy is low, and you need to replenish it. Actually, a potion would be better, but all I have right now is a stamina potion... Hmmm, I don't think it's strong enough, so I brewed it in plain water.”
"Yes..."
Sylvestian looked very embarrassed and avoided eye contact. I secretly regretted bringing up such a pointless story.
'Still, I think his complexion has improved since he drank the World Tree tea. That's fortunate.'
I also put the World Tree tea to my lips. It felt like it was going through my throat and into my stomach.
The mysterious taste and aroma were truly unique.
“By the way, I picked this myself. The World Tree only gives me leaves.”
Until now, I hadn't realized that anyone had a soft spot for the grateful world tree that purifies our water, but today Brigitte proved me wrong.
“The world tree must be trying to find out who raised it.”
“I guess so.”
“Yes, I think so. It’s like an imprint.”
Sylvestian looks quite depressed as he takes in the imprint. The walls were dark and depressing as if he was feeling all sorts of things.
While I was quietly choosing my words, Sylvestian opened his mouth again.
“Aren’t you going to ask what kind of nightmare it was?”
“I have a rough idea.”
"...You guessed it.”
Sylvestian's eyes wavered while he was asking again. After he finished speaking, he seemed to take a deep breath.
I continued talking while the topic was on the table.
Sylvestian looked surprised at my accurate insight. I felt a little embarrassed.
'Thanks to Michael.'
And the taste of Ambrosius that I heard from Michael is quite vicious.
It was more likely to be a sinister and obscene genre rather than a cruel and horrifying one.
It would be a terrible thing to ask a noble knight to recite the contents of such a dream.
It was no different from mental torture.
Anyway, I couldn't stand to see Sylvestian fall apart.
So I said something that gave him an indulgence.
“I hope you don’t blame yourself for your distorted fantasies. A nightmare is just a nightmare.”
“I will take those words to heart with gratitude.”
Sylvestian, answering, desperately hoped that was true.
Only then would he have the face to look me in the eye.
“Oh, and from now on, come drink three counts of tea every night.”
“Is that okay?”
“It’s not okay, it’s a duty. As the commander of the White Night Knights, you must maintain a healthy mind.”
"...All right."
Sylvestian tried to shake off his thoughts.
“Then let’s step back.”
“Good night.”
With that, Sylvestian walked out of the barracks and came face to face with the man who had been guarding the doorway for so long.
“Sylvie.”
“...Ah, Michael.”
Michael was Sylvestian's close friend and a knight who always stayed by Eve's side.
Since entering Dandelion, he has been giving off a strange sense of intimidation more and more often.
It was then that Sylvestian resisted the urge to look away. Michael opened his mouth.
“Ambroxa is a rather foul-tasting dragon. Don’t let your nightmares fool you.”
The tone was almost indifferent, but the content was no different from a surprise attack.
Sylvestian let out a sigh and then made a bitter face.
“I knew it."
“Because it all shows on your face.”
“You’re quick-witted.”
“Let’s say both.”
“Then by any chance... did you tell Her Highness?”
"No."
“Her Highness seems to care quite a bit about you.”
He guessed it. It was to report on the results of the mission he'd received from Michael. Sylvestian received permission from Rosenite and made his way to Eve's barracks.
“Come in... No, come in.”
Sylvestian pulled back the curtain at the entrance, stepped inside, and was momentarily surprised. There was no sign of Michael, whom he had assumed would be inside.
“I sent Michael away because I have something to do. For now, sit down. Your neck will hurt if you look up.”
“I'm sorry.”
It was a sufficient excuse for Sylvestian to refuse the position.
Eve got straight to the point without hesitation.
“What’s the status of the Knights of the White Night?”
“I've looked at twenty people, and none of them have said they had a nightmare. It's weird.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“It seems like one of the subjects is missing.”
In fact, what he thought was the main point was only a preface. Eve looked at Sylvestian, who was dumbfounded, and continued.
Here, a closed mouth and lowered gaze was the only honest answer. Eve let out a small sigh.
“Her Highness the Eighth Princess does not know.”
“Rosie's not the most thoughtful person, but I understand the situation, and I don't blame you for not talking to her first, so you don't have to hang your head like a sinner.”
Sylvestian raised his head but did not look down.
I was in an awkward position.
'I didn't mean to scold you, but the atmosphere has become such that I'm scolding you.'
I felt that if I asked him more, it would be nothing more than a nagging question. I paused in my conversation.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“First, pour some water into the kettle over there. I feel like making some tea.”
“Is it okay if I do it?”
“You don’t even have enough hands. I’ll teach you, so spread the word even in the middle of the night.”
“I'm sorry.”
I took out the teapot and tea leaves and made excuses for this and that.
I started teaching Sylvestian how to make tea.
It was such a sincere class that I felt like it was meant to teach him something.
As the water in the kettle began to boil, I instructed him to take out the tea leaves.
It was pure tea leaves, uncombined, with flavors that were quite unfamiliar to me, even as a tea-obsessed Sylvestian.
“Just know that these are very precious tea leaves.”
But first, I insisted on a drink. I even gently touched Silvestian's teacup to cool the tea just right.
Silvestian looked into the clear, mauve-colored water of the tea essence, put his mouth to the teacup, and was amazed at the instant effect.
“What plants are there that I can find locally that I would consider valuable?”
“Could it be... a leaf of the World Tree?”
“Correct answer.”
The reason I was suddenly asked to make tea was because of the uncomfortable conditions in the barracks.
It wasn't just meant to refresh the air and shed light on the Knights of the White Night's after-dinner tea time.
In fact, the most important thing is that Sylvestian has the power of purification.
It was meant to make him drink the tea.
“You must be having nightmares because your energy is low, and you need to replenish it. Actually, a potion would be better, but all I have right now is a stamina potion... Hmmm, I don't think it's strong enough, so I brewed it in plain water.”
"Yes..."
Sylvestian looked very embarrassed and avoided eye contact. I secretly regretted bringing up such a pointless story.
'Still, I think his complexion has improved since he drank the World Tree tea. That's fortunate.'
I also put the World Tree tea to my lips. It felt like it was going through my throat and into my stomach.
The mysterious taste and aroma were truly unique.
“By the way, I picked this myself. The World Tree only gives me leaves.”
The World Tree wielded its tentacled roots relentlessly when anyone but me tried to take a leaf or branch.
My spirits lifted when I recalled Brigitte's frightened retreat from a tentacle attack. Looking at me, Sylvestian said with a nudge.
“I guess so.”
“Yes, I think so. It’s like an imprint.”
Sylvestian looks quite depressed as he takes in the imprint. The walls were dark and depressing as if he was feeling all sorts of things.
While I was quietly choosing my words, Sylvestian opened his mouth again.
“Aren’t you going to ask what kind of nightmare it was?”
“I have a rough idea.”
"...You guessed it.”
Sylvestian's eyes wavered while he was asking again. After he finished speaking, he seemed to take a deep breath.
I continued talking while the topic was on the table.
“Ambroxa is said to be the most cunning of dragons, and Sir Millard, you are one of the finest knights in the land, and would have me dream of doing something sinful to tarnish your noble chivalry.”
'Thanks to Michael.'
And the taste of Ambrosius that I heard from Michael is quite vicious.
It was more likely to be a sinister and obscene genre rather than a cruel and horrifying one.
It would be a terrible thing to ask a noble knight to recite the contents of such a dream.
It was no different from mental torture.
'Don't ask me, I'm sure it's a nightmare to be tormented by Rosie, and I'm sure a knight like Sir Millard has nightmares every night.'
Blaming Rosenitte for the problem, I stopped thinking about Sylvestian's dream. My speculation was brilliant, but I had no idea that my conclusions were wrong.
So I said something that gave him an indulgence.
“I hope you don’t blame yourself for your distorted fantasies. A nightmare is just a nightmare.”
“I will take those words to heart with gratitude.”
Sylvestian, answering, desperately hoped that was true.
Only then would he have the face to look me in the eye.
“Oh, and from now on, come drink three counts of tea every night.”
“Is that okay?”
“It’s not okay, it’s a duty. As the commander of the White Night Knights, you must maintain a healthy mind.”
"...All right."
Despite the obviously dry rationale, Sylvestian felt a warm fluttering in his left breastbone, which he tried to shake off, chalking it up to the tortured sweetness.
“Then let’s step back.”
“Good night.”
With that, Sylvestian walked out of the barracks and came face to face with the man who had been guarding the doorway for so long.
“Sylvie.”
“...Ah, Michael.”
Michael was Sylvestian's close friend and a knight who always stayed by Eve's side.
Since entering Dandelion, he has been giving off a strange sense of intimidation more and more often.
Even Sylvestian, who normally doesn't know much about it, could feel it on his skin.
So that's probably why. The reason he's feeling a little uncomfortable looking at Michael right now.
“Ambroxa is a rather foul-tasting dragon. Don’t let your nightmares fool you.”
The tone was almost indifferent, but the content was no different from a surprise attack.
Sylvestian let out a sigh and then made a bitter face.
“I knew it."
“Because it all shows on your face.”
“You’re quick-witted.”
“Let’s say both.”
“Then by any chance... did you tell Her Highness?”
"No."
The adamant denial came as a great surprise to Silvestian. His eyes widened, and Micael added, “I'm sorry.
“Her Highness...? Is that true?”
A strange thing appeared on the wall. But it was not something that Michael could see.
As if thinking about it, Sylvesteran hurriedly lowered his gaze.
Michael pretended not to see and went back to the main topic.
“It was a nightmare.”
“That is... I know that too.”
'It would be fortunate if he didn't draw his sword and challenge me to a duel.'
Of course, he planned to keep this fact a secret and keep it to himself until the day he die.
Sylvestian wanted to end the topic before it became any more uncomfortable.
There was something he had to tell Michael in advance.
“I don’t know if you know, but Her M Highness the Seventh Princess tells me to drink World Tree tea every night.”
“...I’m glad you’re not uncomfortable.”
Michael, who was saying that, was smiling faintly. He had the face of a person who truly trusted him.
Sylvestian was surprised to learn that homunculus could make such faces.
He was secretly surprised. Michael was even more desperate because he was locked in a prison in the air.
Wasn't there a record of being left alone for years? It's as if that person never did it even once.
It was amazing that he could laugh like someone who had never been betrayed.
'It must be thanks to Her Highness the 7th Princess.'
It was clear that all of this was a transformation after becoming Eve's direct subordinate.
Sylvestian tried to shake off his thoughts and opened his mouth with all his heart.
“Thank you, Michael.”
Sylvestian's gaze was turned towards the distant night sky as he responded.
Because he hoped Michael wouldn't be able to read the glimmer of envy in his eyes right now.
A strange thing appeared on the wall. But it was not something that Michael could see.
As if thinking about it, Sylvesteran hurriedly lowered his gaze.
Michael pretended not to see and went back to the main topic.
“It was a nightmare.”
“Don't be so hard on yourself, it's not your dream, it's the dragon's dream, and whatever ugly dreams you have, it's not your fault.”
Sylvestían is uncomfortable with Michael's concern and comfort and can only respond vaguely, as he realizes what Sylvestian has been dreaming about and wonders if he can maintain his current attitude.
Of course, he planned to keep this fact a secret and keep it to himself until the day he die.
Sylvestian wanted to end the topic before it became any more uncomfortable.
There was something he had to tell Michael in advance.
“I don’t know if you know, but Her M Highness the Seventh Princess tells me to drink World Tree tea every night.”
“You must be honored to share your precious tea with my lord. I hope it works.”
“I have no intention of attaching unnecessary significance to something that is clearly intended for healing. Above all, both my lord and my close friend are people who value honor.”
Michael, who was saying that, was smiling faintly. He had the face of a person who truly trusted him.
Sylvestian was surprised to learn that homunculus could make such faces.
He was secretly surprised. Michael was even more desperate because he was locked in a prison in the air.
Wasn't there a record of being left alone for years? It's as if that person never did it even once.
It was amazing that he could laugh like someone who had never been betrayed.
'It must be thanks to Her Highness the 7th Princess.'
It was clear that all of this was a transformation after becoming Eve's direct subordinate.
Sylvestian tried to shake off his thoughts and opened his mouth with all his heart.
“Thank you, Michael.”
Sylvestian's gaze was turned towards the distant night sky as he responded.
Because he hoped Michael wouldn't be able to read the glimmer of envy in his eyes right now.
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