Chapter 2.6

Upon returning to the hunting point, Ragaen asked Greta, 

“Did you aim for the center of the wing?”  

“Yes. Richard told me to aim there.”  

She really aimed for it? 

Even Damon, the former commander of the Archery Unit and a veteran of the Great Demon War, had said it required considerable skill to hit the center of a Lorus’s wing. Lucas Nindella, the current commander of the Archery Unit, would likely agree. To be honest, even Ragaen himself had never hit the center of a Lorus’s wing when he still had his right arm.  

“Your archery skills are exceptional.”  

‘I got complimented!’  

Greta immediately blushed.  

“Well, I’m… a bit good with a bow.”  

This wasn’t what she meant to say. She hadn’t intended to come off as a boastful, arrogant person. But Ragaen simply nodded seriously.  

“Yes. Your skill is truly remarkable.”  

Regardless of Greta’s internal embarrassment, Ragaen was earnestly evaluating her archery skills.  

‘Her talent is too exceptional to be limited to mere hunting.’  

Although he wasn’t in charge of the Archery Unit, the knights under his command also underwent basic archery training. While they weren’t as skilled as the Archery Unit members, they were still highly proficient. However, none of them could pierce the center of a Lorus’s wing in one shot unless it was sheer luck.  

“Could you hit the center of the wing again?”  

“Of course!”  

Greta clenched her fists enthusiastically.  

Just then, another Lorus, visiting the Ginobera Forest in search of food, came into view. Greta focused her gaze and aimed her bow.  

‘I’ll definitely succeed. I’ll prove that I’m not an annoying braggart but simply a skilled person.’  

***

Greta Lievo wasn’t someone who should be wasting her talents here.  

Ragaen thought this quite seriously.  

This was already the sixth one. Greta shot down every Lorus she spotted with her bow, hitting the center of their wings with perfect accuracy. It wasn’t just one or two—it was all six. And so far, Greta had used exactly six arrows.  

“I’ll apply the potion myself!”  

“Uh… sure.”  

From her cheerful humming, Greta looked like a typical noble lady on a picnic. However, at this moment, she was crouched beside the corpse of a magical beast, its head severed and blood gushing out, applying potion to its massive claws.  

In terms of archery skills alone, Greta’s talent far surpassed that of Damon, the former Archery Unit commander and a war hero of the Great Demon War.  

Ragaen thought, no matter how much he considered it…  

‘The Archery Unit missed out on a real talent.’  

Whatever thoughts Ragaen had, Greta was in high spirits.  

‘I was worried I might miss even one shot, but thank goodness!’  

She had shown her best side. She had shot well, acted unafraid of the decapitated monstrous bird, and even courageously applied potion to the grotesque giant claws! Everything was perfect!  

So far, almost nothing had gone the way Greta wanted when it came to Ragaen, but today, everything seemed to be going smoothly as planned.  

Moreover, being able to watch her beloved Duke wield his large sword with precise, elegant movements to decapitate the Lorus was pure joy. Greta’s heart felt like it had already exceeded its daily limit of beats and was on the verge of overloading.  

Feeling slightly dizzy from her pounding heart, Greta let out a deep sigh.  

“Are you tired? Would you like to rest for a moment?”  

It wasn’t the hunting that had tired her, but taking a break to eat was necessary. And wasn’t mealtime the perfect opportunity to converse and bond? After all, it was after sharing a meal that Ragaen had accepted Greta’s letter exchange proposal.  

Greta smiled slyly and nodded.  

***

Jespa, that rascal.  

Ragaen pulled a handkerchief from his inner pocket to wipe the blood off his sword and decided not only to sew Jespa’s brain shut but also his fingers.  

The handkerchief happened to be the one Greta had gifted him. He couldn’t not clean his sword; it was stained with magical beast blood. Proper sword maintenance was the duty of all swordsmen, knights, and mercenaries alike. But, but…!  

‘It’s a premium handkerchief!’  

Although he had another handkerchief with the same pattern, each one was handmade, with uniquely embroidered vine details on the edges. This particular handkerchief had been part of his cherished collection.  

In the Adantie Ducal Residence, no one but Jespa would dare touch his collection. It felt as though he could hear Jespa’s laughter somewhere.  

Sadly, the sword was more important than the handkerchief. Reluctantly, Ragaen placed the blade on the handkerchief.  

Jespa would not be spared.  

“Is that the handkerchief I gave you?”  

“Yes, it is.”  

“I’m glad to see you’re using it. I put a lot of thought into it.”  

Unaware of Ragaen’s inner turmoil, Greta smiled brightly, genuinely happy. Seeing her smile, Ragaen felt his rising anger subside.  

He suddenly recalled something the Crown Prince had once told him long ago.  

‘Fans are happiest when they see their gifts being used. Knowing their gift is cherished and meaningful brings them joy.’  

Yes, Miss Lievo was his fan. Showing her that he used her gift was true fan service.  

Ragaen spoke sincerely.  

“I like it very much.”  

“Ah, I… I’m so happy to hear that!”  

Greta’s cheeks flushed red. Her heart raced uncontrollably. Unaware of her feelings, Ragaen continued diligently cleaning his sword. Later, he would realize he had another plain handkerchief in his pocket all along and feel quite upset about it, but that was a matter for another time.  

Meanwhile, Greta took out a lunchbox from her bag. It contained special sandwiches prepared by the chef of the Lievo Count’s Residence, who had served there for thirty years.  

The chef, believing sandwiches were the best food for hunting, had prepared a large quantity. When Greta asked if it wasn’t too much, the chef had confidently replied,  

‘Oh, Miss. The Duke is a large knight. Think of how much Young Master Richard eats. It might not even be enough.’  

Recalling Richard’s enormous appetite, Greta nodded and packed all the sandwiches the chef had prepared into her bag. The lunchbox ended up being heavier than the 60 arrows she carried for hunting. Of course, the burden was mostly borne by Zara.  

On the mat where Greta and Ragaen sat, an incredible variety of sandwiches were spread out.  

Ragaen was visibly flustered at the sight. He had not prepared anything. Even his butler, Obil, and his aide, Jespa, who should have taken care of such matters, had said nothing. Feeling a sense of bewilderment, Ragaen thought he should sew the fingers of those who had forgotten their duties.  

“Please, help yourself, Your Grace.”  

“I… did not prepare anything, Lady Lievo.”  

“I brought enough for both of us. Our chef is quite skilled. I’m not sure if it suits your taste, but please try it.”  

Why had Greta prepared lunch for Ragaen as well? Behind this was a collaboration between Jespa and Richard. Jespa had secretly informed Richard that nothing would be prepared for the Duke during the hunting competition.  

Quick-witted Richard had then told Greta,  

‘Knights usually don’t eat anything during guard duty. There’s always the risk of poison or drugs in the food. The Commander is so used to this that he won’t bring anything to eat, so you should prepare enough for him too.’

As a result, Ragaen came empty-handed, while Greta brought a bag full of sandwiches.  

Of course, this was a lie. Ragaen, who was always hungry, had never skipped a meal since ascending to the dukedom. Breakfast, snacks, lunch, snacks, dinner, and even late-night meals—he ate them all.  

“Here, take some. I can’t finish all of this on my own anyway.”  

“…Thank you.”  

Ragaen accepted the sandwich Greta offered.  

“Does it suit your taste?”  

“Yes. It’s delicious.”  

In truth, Ragaen found almost anything delicious as long as it wasn’t lethal.  

Greta stared absentmindedly at the sandwiches disappearing into Ragaen’s mouth. During their last meal together in Lottresto, his appetite had seemed no different from that of an average person. So, seeing him eat as much as a pig disguised as a human was astonishing.  

Unaware that Ragaen had eaten far more during his late-night meal than at dinner that day, Greta’s surprise was only natural.  

‘How can he eat so well!’  

Even the sight of the sandwiches disappearing into Ragaen’s mouth like magic was graceful and impressive. His eating habits were truly charming. If Richard, who was often scolded by Greta for eating too much, had heard her thoughts, he would have been outraged. But it was natural for siblings to find each other’s habits annoying, even when they shared the same household.  

“Lady Lievo.”  

“Yes, yes?”  

“What do you plan to do after the hunting competition?”  

Caught off guard by the sudden question, Greta’s mind raced.  

After the hunting competition? What were my plans?  

She couldn’t possibly say that she wanted to go horseback riding with the Duke, dine with him in a quiet restaurant, watch a performance together, and have long conversations.  

Unable to grasp the intent behind the question, Greta stammered, her lips moving wordlessly. This only made Ragaen feel more awkward.  

“My apologies if the question was inappropriate.”  

“Oh no! It’s not inappropriate!”  

Greta then raised her voice slightly, almost shouting.  

“I haven’t thought about it yet!”  

Oh no. What kind of answer was that?  

She should have launched into a grand plan for self-improvement starting tomorrow, detailing a brilliant future. Instead, she had blurted out that she had no thoughts at all.  

“Well, um…”  

“You don’t have any plans yet?”  

“Not yet, no. That’s correct.”  

“I see.”  

Would it be a good idea for her to join the Archery Unit?  

Having never suggested anything to anyone before, Ragaen didn’t know how to bring it up. It would have been easier to just state it outright, but he was still clumsy when it came to dealing with his first female fan, Greta Lievo.