Eloise took out the apple pies her mother had packed from the basket.

There were three inside. Even after reconsidering, giving her three whole pies felt excessive.

‘Mrs. Parker isn’t that bad at making desserts, after all.’

She was undoubtedly making great efforts to treat the new steward well.

She probably used Blissbury’s entire food supply to prepare every dish she could manage.

And yet, he still wasn’t eating correctly.

‘He seemed to eat well enough at dinner, though.’

Whenever Sergeant Thornton dined at her house, he ate neatly and without hesitation, just like everyone else.

Perhaps Mrs. Parker’s cooking didn’t suit his taste.

‘Can’t he just eat whatever’s given to him? A soldier should know the value of food!’

Her thoughts naturally drifted to Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave.

Among the many stories about him in the newspaper, she once read a memoir from a former soldier of the 57th Infantry Battalion.

It wasn’t uncommon for supplies to be cut off in wartime. After all, on the front lines, enemy forces frequently ambushed supply units.

As a result, soldiers often went without proper meals. But that was only true for the lower ranks. Even in such dire circumstances, high-ranking battalion officers traveled with personal chefs, enjoying their meals as usual.

“…That would be unthinkable in our battalion.”

There was a time when Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave personally confiscated food meant for senior officers and distributed it among the soldiers. Even aside from that incident, they rarely went hungry.

Because, no matter what, the Lieutenant Colonel always ensured the soldiers had their rations—

Mr. Surberton, who had been reading the newspaper with her, had chuckled, saying he couldn’t tell if it was a military memoir or a hymn of praise for Wilgrave.

Of course, Eloise had felt a surge of pride, as if she were part of the Lieutenant Colonel’s family.

Where else would you find a commander so concerned with his lower-ranking soldiers’ meals?

Memoirs from other battalions frequently mentioned soldiers eating food that seemed deadly. Yet, in the 57th Infantry Battalion, no such accounts existed.

Even when rations ran low, Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave shared his meals. On one occasion, when the soldiers realized he hadn’t eaten properly for days, he waved them off and walked away, saying he was fine.

And yet, here was a sergeant who, despite having plenty, barely ate.

“A Ryan is still a Ryan, but they couldn’t be more different…”

Eloise muttered as she mounted her horse and headed toward the shade of a tree at the foot of the hill, carrying her pie.

The timing was tricky—if she went to Blissbury now, Mrs. Parker would surely insist she stay for a meal.

And if she ran into Sergeant Thornton there…

She shuddered dramatically at the thought, shutting her eyes in exaggerated horror before opening her basket and taking out one of the apple pies.

“Thank you for this meal.”

Remembering to say grace, Eloise opened her mouth wide and took a large bite of the still-warm pie.

If her mother had seen her, she would have gasped, saying that was no way for a lady to eat. But so what? There was no one around to see her now.

Crunch.

The well-baked crust sounded satisfyingly crisp, and the sweet apple filling spread delightfully through her mouth.

Since they had decided to clear out the storage before summer, they had generously used last autumn’s apples. She had also added plenty of cinnamon powder from Camborne.

The deep, aromatic scent of cinnamon blended with the sweet apple filling, creating a captivating flavor and fragrance.

Just as the filling started to feel overwhelming, the crisp crust balanced out the taste once more.

Before she knew it, she had finished a whole slice. Eloise immediately picked up another.

She opened her mouth wide again and took a hearty bite, a smile forming unconsciously on her face.

“…It’s delicious.”

She had planned to eat just one piece and kill some time before heading out. But at this rate, she might finish the whole thing right here.

Picking up another slice, Eloise licked her lips and glanced toward Blissbury, murmuring to herself.

“Maybe I should just eat it all.”

Giving away all three pies felt like too much. Maybe she should just eat two by herself and leave the last one for the Blissbury staff—

“At least leave me a slice.”

“Ahh!”

A sudden voice from beside her startled Eloise so severely that she dropped the pie in her hand.

It landed squarely on her neatly dressed outfit, smearing sticky apple filling all over.

“My clothes!”

She shrieked again, grabbing a cloth from the basket and desperately scrubbing at the stain. But it was too late.

The brown smear stood out far too clearly against the cream-colored dress she had worn for the outing.

If not for Sergeant Thornton, she would have gone straight to the riverbank, lifted her skirt, and washed the stained part in the water.

But there was no way she was doing that in front of him.

Even Eloise, who wandered around like an untamed foal, knew better than to act that way in front of other men.

‘If I don’t wipe it off right away, it’ll stain…’

As Eloise glanced around, wondering if there was any way to salvage her cherished dress, Ryan, watching her closely, picked up the cloth she had set down.

He then walked straight to the river, dampened the cloth, wrung it out, and returned it to her.

“Here, use this to wipe it.”

“Th-thank you…”

She had expected him to simply stand by and watch, perhaps even mock her mistake. But contrary to her assumptions, Sergeant Thornton offered his help with surprising kindness. Warily, she accepted the cloth.

Getting rid of the stain was the most urgent matter at hand.

Eloise rubbed at the stain with the damp cloth.

Fortunately, the sticky filling loosened, and the stain lightened as she wiped.

‘A proper wash at home should get rid of this completely.’

Feeling relieved, Eloise turned her head, only to find Sergeant Thornton standing still, staring intently at the apple pie beside her.

Then he glanced at her, his expression suggesting, ‘Well? Aren’t you going to offer me some?’

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Eloise spoke up.

“If… if you don’t mind, would you like a piece?”

Wasn’t he the one  Mrs. Parker had been worried about for not eating anything?

She had expected him to decline politely.

“Thank you.”

But instead, he plopped down beside her without hesitation.

‘Wait… this isn’t what I meant…?’

Ryan smirked at her barely concealed bewilderment.

‘She must have thought I’d refuse and leave.’

That had been his initial intention. He hadn’t particularly wanted to talk to anyone.

That was why he had remained hidden behind the tree when Eloise came down the hill, staying silent.

He figured that if he just waited, she would eventually return to Blissbury.

But to his surprise, she settled down and pulled an apple pie from her basket.

Then, without a plate or fork, she picked it up with her hands and took a large bite.

Ryan chuckled again.

She was dressed impeccably, like the ladies from the capital, but her actions were no different from those of a countryside child.

She must have assumed she was alone as she ate the apple pie with unabashed enthusiasm.

‘Crunch. Munch.’

The perfectly baked pastry crumbled each time she chewed, making that distinct crisp sound.

The gentle spring breeze carried the scent of warm butter and the sweet aroma of cinnamon-laced apple filling.

Gulp.

Before he knew it, Ryan swallowed instinctively. A wave of hunger hit him.

His gaze remained fixed on Eloise, who, with her eyes half-closed, was savoring the pie’s taste.

Unaware of his stare, she continued eating.

Every time she took a big bite, her expression changed.

At first, she leisurely enjoyed the fragrance and texture. The moment she chewed again, she seemed almost overwhelmed by the sudden burst of sweetness.

And by the third bite, a radiant smile spread across her face.

Watching her, Ryan almost doubted that what she was eating was just an apple pie.

He stared at her blankly for a long moment before finally standing and moving to sit beside her.

Seeing her eat with pure delight made him want to taste it.

It was the first desire he had felt since arriving in Blissbury.