Home/The Reincarnated Hero Is Melancholic/ch4

Chapter 4

By the time the meal ended, sweet desserts were brought out onto the cleared table. For drinks, Father had coffee, Kizef and I had tea, and finally Werner had…

'…Just looking at it makes my teeth ache.'

It was thick chocolate milk, so rich it seemed to tingle the tongue just by sight.

"Ah, this won't do…"

But Werner, who had lost his appetite sharply after Kizef's announcement of the grade-skip, remained gloomy even with his favorite dessert before him. His fork moved slowly, and the chocolate milk barely diminished.

"If this keeps up, he'll be by the youngest's side more than me…"

Muttering something barely audible, Werner eventually stood up without finishing even a single slice.

"Father. I'll go up ahead. Eat well, Rowel…"

Werner, who could easily polish off four or five slices in one sitting when in the mood—yet he left before anyone could stop him.

The reason was obvious. His attitude had clearly changed ever since he heard about Kizef's grade-skip.

"…Brother Werner seems down."

I murmured, a little concerned, and Kizef let out a sigh.

The Royal Academy accepted students from age twelve. That meant Werner, now eleven, would be old enough to enter next summer. Yet Kizef, who had entered two years early, was acing everything and now even skipping a grade—so it was understandable that he'd feel disheartened…

"It's not that he's down. He just doesn't like the idea of me graduating early. His goal is to go through all four years and graduate on schedule."

"…Huh?"

Isn't that the same thing?

When I blinked in confusion, Kizef elaborated.

"He doesn't want me to graduate quickly and stay home monopolizing you while he's still at the academy."

"Ah…"

The explanation was so unexpected that I forgot to control my expression.

Surely that couldn't be the real reason…?

---

After the meal, as I climbed the stairs with Kizef, I stopped.

"Never mind, I can't just leave it."

"Rowel?"

I let go of Kizef's hand, and he looked at me quizzically.

"You go ahead, Brother. I need to stop by the kitchen for a moment."

"The kitchen?"

"Mm. Big Brother Werner didn't even finish one slice of cake earlier."

My reason was rather absurd, but thinking of Werner's deflated face made me uneasy. Normally I'd let it go, but it had been two months since I'd seen him, and today's dessert was chocolate cake—his favorite.

Kizef chuckled softly.

"Alright. If you bring it to him, Werner will be thrilled."

"You think so?"

"Of course."

"Great! Then I'll go first!"

I waved at Kizef and headed straight for the kitchen.

Peeking my head in, I saw they were in the middle of cleanup.

'They look busy…'

I didn't want to interrupt.

As I looked around wondering who to approach, a face suddenly appeared right before me. It was Chef Huey.

"Huey!"

Perfect timing—I beamed, and Huey gave an awkward smile as he straightened up.

"Well, well. How come you never startle, Miss?"

"Why would I be startled?"

"Oh, well… I'm not exactly easy on the eyes, am I? I daresay you're the only child who doesn't flinch at my face."

Huey rubbed his shiny chin, looking sheepish.

Apparently the others heard him too, because from behind came shouts of "Not just a little, Chef!" and "Here, here!"

"Hey, you rascals!"

Huey erupted in mock anger, and everyone burst out laughing.

'Hmm, is that so?'

I studied Huey carefully. If I had to judge by appearance alone, he was a bit burly…

"But I'm not scared of Huey. In fact, you're pretty."

"…Pardon?"

"Pretty."

At my words, Huey looked dumbfounded, the cooks were shocked, and the servants helping out gaped.

"D-did you just say Chef Huey is pretty, Miss…?"

"Yep."

I nodded without a second's hesitation, and another wave of astonishment spread.

'But Huey really is pretty…'

More precisely, the fire spirits flitting around him and giggling were lovely.

Spirits, who could be called nature itself, favored those with pure souls.

That meant most who received the spirits' love possessed clean souls—though even with their favor, without spirit affinity, one couldn't become a spirit mage.

Flutter—

Sensing my gaze, the fire spirits that had been hovering near Huey flew over. The small, reddish glimmers rubbed against my cheek as if greeting me warmly.

Giggle, giggle. From the fleeting warmth they touched, I could tell they were happy.

The spirits twirled around me a few times, dancing, then returned to Huey's side.

"What's this? Suddenly feeling warm…"

Huey blinked and looked around in surprise.

"Are you that pleased that Miss called you pretty?"

"No, that's not it… Or is it?"

Huey, looking puzzled, finally coughed awkwardly. He seemed embarrassed by the delay.

I watched him fondly, then spoke before too much time passed.

"Hey, Huey. Could you put three slices of the cake I had earlier on a plate? I want to share them with Brother Werner."

"Of course! Just a moment, Miss!"

Huey answered briskly and strode inside.

Watching his back, someone murmured:

"Miss calling him pretty must have really energized the chef."

"Come on, surely not."

"…But Miss, do you really think the chef is pretty? I won't tell anyone."

"Hahaha. You don't think so, do you?"

"Umm… objectively speaking, pretty isn't quite… is it?"

"Well, everyone has different standards."

I shrugged and ended the conversation.

It was a little while later that word spread about the youngest miss of the Valentine ducal house having rather profound aesthetic tastes.

---

As I came out holding the tray Huey had given me, I saw Brillin waiting.

"Let me carry that, Miss."

"I can manage, but… thank you, Brillin."

"Not at all."

I didn't insist and offered my thanks, and Brillin gave a faint smile.

With her carrying the tray, reaching the third floor where Werner's room was didn't take long.

"I'll take it from here!"

"Be careful with it."

"Sigh. Brillin, you treat me like I'm too young."

I let out an exaggerated sigh, and Brillin chuckled softly.

Yet she didn't deny it—which meant she did think so.

Having been by my side since birth along with my nanny Vasha, it wasn't strange, but still, mentally I was much older.

Nevertheless, I was only six now, so being treated as a child couldn't be helped.

"Then I'm off."

With that, I confidently took the tray and made it to Werner's door.

I only realized there was a slight problem when I raised my hand to knock.

'…I don't have a free hand to knock.'

Even after nearly seven years of living as a child, occasionally my thoughts still misfired. It was because my full-grown mind was housed in a child's body. Over a century of ingrained habits and common sense couldn't vanish in just seven years.

The solution was simple.

'If I don't have a hand, I'll use my foot.'

After glancing around to make sure no one was watching, I stretched out my foot.

Thump, thump—

"Brother. Are you in there?"

Thankfully, leaving a footprint on the door took only one try.

A clattering sound came from inside, and Werner opened the door.

"Rowel?"

He poked his head out—his curly silver hair was more disheveled than usual, whether from tugging at it or rolling around in bed.

Instead of pointing it out, I lifted the tray slightly.

"I brought this so we could share. Can I come in?"

"Uh, yeah. Of course… Oh, let me take that."

"Okay."

Despite his flustered reply, his hands took the tray quickly, as if accustomed to it.

I followed Werner inside.

He'd apparently been reading in bed—several books were scattered across the rumpled covers.

"Rowel, do you want something to drink?"

Werner asked, setting the tray on the table. I considered for a moment, then shook my head.

"I'm fine. Actually, I brought the cake for you. You barely ate earlier."

"Rowel…"

Instantly, Werner's eyes reddened.

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