Chapter 46
Hearing the word lie, Kur finally relaxed.
“I knew it.”
He acted as though he had never believed it for even a second.
“Catch it. Catch that thing right now. No, waaait, don’t catch it!”
“Decide which one you want in your head before you start talking.”
Kur frowned, but he still supported Baberi, who was clinging to him with one arm.
“Catch it for me. But don’t come closer. If you get closer, then I get closer too.”
“Then what do you want me to do?”
“Just… stay there.”
Baberi pressed her lips tightly and glared at the spider. She wished with all her might that it would just die out of fear, but it showed no such courtesy.
Just then, hearing Baberi’s scream, Meadow and Pumpkin came running from the mine entrance.
“What’s going on?”
“Meadow, thank goodness you’re here!”
Baberi pointed at the spider.
“Please get that!”
Meadow looked back and forth between Baberi and the spider, quickly understanding the situation. He had seen this before—Baberi hated multi‑legged bugs.
Even for Meadow, who was from Martu, it was a big spider, but he killed it without difficulty.
Baberi squinted to check that the spider was no longer moving, then extended her hand toward Meadow.
“Good job. You’re my most loyal retainer.”
Receiving such praise for killing a single spider made Meadow a bit embarrassed. Feeling good, he laughed quietly—until he met Pumpkin’s gaze and cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Pumpkin, who had been silently watching, gave Baberi a strange look.
Baberi’s grandfather, Duke Rangs, had been a terrifying man. His oppressive presence was said to outweigh even that of the Elf King who ruled the Great Forest.
He was handsome like a sculpture, but quiet, and his expression rarely changed. Some even wondered if he was literally carved from stone. But his granddaughter, Baberi Rangs…
“Your Majesty is quite… expressive,” Pumpkin said.
Meadow widened his eyes slightly.
He’s my lord, but he’s a bit much sometimes… embarrassing, even, Meadow thought.
Still, Pumpkin had wrapped it so elegantly that Meadow was quietly impressed.
Baberi let out a sigh of relief and shook her head.
“Yeah, Mr. Pumpkin. I’m emotional. It’s exhausting.”
She tapped Kur lightly, signaling him to carry her inside.
“I’m drained. I need to eat something. Let’s go.”
“I don’t care, but are you going to keep hanging off me like this?”
“My legs are weak. And I’m a dragon rider.”
So because she was a rider, she was going to ride people too?
Pumpkin, who didn’t know Kur was a dragon, found this confusing.
Kur must have accepted the logic somehow because he headed inside without further comment.
Watching them disappear, Pumpkin muttered quietly,
“That man… is he also a retainer?”
“For now, he is the retainer Her Majesty treasures most.”
Meadow noticed Pumpkin’s expression darken.
“Just in case… Her Majesty is more merciful than expected.”
Even if someone was slightly insolent, the worst punishment was usually being pelted with boiled beans.
“But he is dangerous.”
Meadow warned sincerely. He knew Pumpkin’s blunt and rough way of speaking all too well.
“You fear I’ll offend him?”
“If I’ve said too much, I apologize.”
“No, thank you for the warning.”
Pumpkin nodded and studied Meadow’s face.
“Sir Meadow, you look better than when you were in Martu.”
“Do I?”
Meadow touched his face and smiled.
“Perhaps it’s because even killing one spider earns me too much praise.”
He tried to phrase it as politely as possible, but Pumpkin sensed the pride leaking through his tone and expression.
“Her Majesty is generous with praise. In the past I feared even doing well, in case it caused trouble.”
Pumpkin could see he was embarrassed yet happy.
“You seem to have found a good king.”
He knew Meadow had struggled fiercely even after his exile—Baslui had mentioned it countless times.
“A good king…”
Meadow repeated the words.
“If you ask me whether Her Majesty is a good king now, I honestly can’t say yes.”
Pumpkin found it striking how his face remained bright even while speaking critically.
“But I believe she will become a good king.”
There was no wavering in Meadow’s eyes.
He was affectionate, loyal, and harmonized well with others. Pumpkin had always believed Meadow was a fine knight.
But now, with faith in his sovereign, he seemed several steps more knightly than in the past.
“You’ve gained the dignity of a Knight‑Commander.”
Meadow laughed and waved it off as excessive praise.
“You seem healthier than I expected as well. I worried since your letters were full of complaints.”
Meadow joked lightly.
Pumpkin exhaled deeply.
“The problem is that I’m too healthy. An old man should die sooner.”
“You’re not even sixty yet.”
“I’ve just turned sixty.”
“You’re still young. Carrot would be upset to hear you say that.”
At the mention of Carrot, Pumpkin’s lips twitched. If they hadn’t come to Koksan, Carrot might have insisted on going to Yazgo despite all attempts to stop her.
The very thought made him dizzy.
“Is Carrot still training with the sword?”
Expecting she had improved greatly, Meadow asked—only for Pumpkin’s face to slowly darken.
“After her mother died, she’s never picked up a sword again.”
Even when he tried to find her a good teacher, she refused. She didn’t say she was sad or struggling, but her mother’s death had clearly wounded her deeply.
Pumpkin’s heart ached.
“We must strike Baslui before King Manmi’s soldiers gather.”
Meadow said, and the leader of the rebels agreed.
“Indeed. There’s no reason to give them time.”
They were close to concluding that they should launch an immediate attack when Onion suddenly slammed the table and stood up.
Baberi, who had been playing with her chair, was so startled she nearly fell over—Kur behind her caught the chair just in time.
“Why is everyone intoxicated by treason? Do you think it’s such an easy thing?”
Onion glared around the room in anger.
“I know most of you swore loyalty to your lord.”
His eyes paused briefly on Meadow. Meadow saw contempt in them.
“And you throw that oath aside so easily?”
Baberi began to feel irritated. Meadow must have sensed this, because he glanced at her nervously.
“Onion.”
Meadow called sharply, warning him to stop—but it was too late.
“Don’t say my name. I don’t want someone like you—someone who doesn’t understand honor—speaking it.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
Baberi let out a frustrated sigh.
“Treason isn’t that complicated. And you—who even are you?”
Onion, who had been glaring at Meadow, flinched.
“A knight of Baslui? Then why aren’t you with Baslui?”
He couldn’t answer. He wasn’t a knight. He was simply one of the many being trained under Sir Blake of Lancaster.
“He’s my son. I apologize for his rudeness.”
Pumpkin gestured for Onion to leave.
Realizing the situation, Baberi made a small sound of understanding.
“Your son? What’s his name?”
“His name is Onion.”
Baberi burst into laughter.
“Pumpkin’s son is Onion?”
Mark sighed softly.
“Your Majesty, making fun of someone’s name is rude.”
He sounded like he was scolding a child. Baberi shrugged and pointed at Onion.
“He started being rude first.”
Her laughter faded, and she looked serious.
“I’ll forgive it this time. There won’t be a next.”
She didn’t resemble Duke Rangs at all—yet Pumpkin suddenly thought that when she wasn’t smiling, she carried a faint trace of the duke’s weight.
“If you understand, get out.”
At her command, Onion left with a resentful expression.
Pumpkin realized Baberi was treating them as subordinates now, and command had naturally shifted to Meadow.
No one questioned or resisted it. Even when they had been suspected regarding the missing magic stones…
There’s only one mine entrance. We were guarding it. Sneaking it out past our eyes was impossible.
Public opinion had shifted.
At this rate, we’re going to become the Baberania army, not rebels…
Pumpkin quietly thought about their future.
The meeting concluded quickly: they would attack Martu Castle in five days.
Afterward, remaining alone, Pumpkin sat deep in thought.
“Are you dissatisfied?”
A young man’s voice snapped him back to reality.
“You have that look.”
Kur, who he thought had left with Baberi, stood over him with his arms crossed.
“It’s natural, isn’t it? Before we knew it, we’re the ones giving you orders.”
Pumpkin found his voice profoundly emotionless. He asked questions, but didn’t seem to care much about the answers.
A strange man. The soldiers of Baberania feared him more than Meadow. Some even more than their king, Baberi.
“When I sought Sir Meadow’s aid, I prepared myself that things might turn out this way.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Kur demanded a precise response. Pumpkin thought for a moment, then answered.
“If I said I felt no resistance at all, that would be a lie. But I have no intention of showing it to Her Majesty.”
Kur slowly blinked, then sat down a short distance away.
“Unexpected. I thought you’d vehemently oppose us—maybe even get yourself thrown into the dungeon.”
“I only raise my voice for things I believe truly wrong.”
“Her Majesty often scolds the dragon for no reason. Which side does that fall on?”
Pumpkin found this an odd question—but he answered seriously.
“It isn’t right. Even if one must scold at times.”
To do so without cause was abuse. Odd as it sounded to speak of dragons and abuse in the same sentence.
“And what do you think about Her Majesty deliberately dirtying a room the dragon cleaned?”
“…She makes the dragon clean?”
What kind of situation was that?
Pumpkin reacted as though he had heard nonsense. Kur smiled for the first time.
“Depending on your answer, I was thinking of killing you. Good thing you’re less foolish than I feared—”
Before he could finish, the door slammed open and Baberi appeared.
“I told you to persuade him to become my vassal! Since when does persuasion involve threats?!”
