Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 14

14.

The grilled steak was garnished with vegetables, accompanied by stew and bread. It looked like an ordinary meal at first glance—but there was something peculiar about it.

"You expect me to eat with these?"

What had been provided to Kite were only a small spoon and fork, the kind a child might use. And when he flicked them with his finger, they bent—whatever material they were made of, it was soft.

"I believe they are sufficient for eating."

Only then did he look more closely at the tray—the steak and vegetables had all been cut into small pieces. The ingredients in the stew were also tiny, so even child-sized utensils could handle them.

"Huh?"

Kite let out an incredulous sigh. Having reached the level of a Swordmaster, his body had become something beyond that of ordinary people. He could go several meals without eating and suffer no ill effects—but still, it was better to fill his stomach.

"You didn't poison it, did you?"

At that question, Mary gave him an odd look.

"I should have."

That would have kept you quiet. Reading that meaning in her expression, his irritation flared anew.

"Did you cook this yourself?"

"Yes."

"I see."

For someone claiming to be a maid, she didn't seem to know how to cook. He had asked for mushroom soup, but what came back was a stew that looked like a hodgepodge. Suspicious in many ways.

"Let me taste it first."

If it wasn't good, he'd raise hell. Thinking that, Kite speared a piece of the cut steak with his fork. The fork was absurdly small compared to his hand—but what else could he do?

He put the steak in his mouth and chewed slowly. It wasn't quite at the level of the chef he specially employed—but she clearly had some cooking experience. The doneness of the meat was remarkable.

The vegetables were the same.

The problem was the stew. It wasn't that it tasted bad.

But the flavor is familiar.

It was a taste he couldn't forget even if he tried. Long ago, when he had been sent to the northern battlefront by the late Emperor, he had eaten stew just like this—the kind made in military camps.

To be honest, that stew, made with low-quality ingredients, hadn't been particularly good. But even so, Kite, carrying the imperial bloodline, had been given generous amounts of spices.

"Mary."

Kite, savoring the stew's flavor, looked directly at Mary, who was still standing by the door.

"You're not an ordinary person, are you?"

"No. I'm an ordinary maid."

"No, you're someone connected to the Northern Army."

At Kite's words, Mary's eyes went wide. But only for a moment—she quickly denied it.

"That's not true."

"It is. The stew tastes exactly like what they serve in the Northern Army. It's so cold and barren there that the quality of ingredients is poor—raising livestock is difficult, and importing them isn't easy either. So they use a lot of spices to mask the ingredients' flavor."

Mary clamped her mouth shut.

"This is a Northern supply recipe. With this much spice, whoever ate it was either a noble or a high-ranking officer."

"That's a misunderstanding."

"Not you yourself, then—someone in your family."

At Kite's words, Mary's body leaned back slightly.

"Also, from watching you, your posture is too upright for a maid."

The answer was clear—a noble or a military family with ties to the Northern Army.

"I'm usually relaxed. But you are His Grace, the Archduke—so I unconsciously tense up around you."

Even in this situation, Mary didn't give up.

"I see. And yet you've confined His Grace the Archduke."

Kite slowly set down his spoon.

"I'm certain now. You claim to be the kidnapper's maid—but that's not true, is it?"

His vivid blue eyes fixed on Mary.

"You are the kidnapper."

Mary's hand trembled faintly. But the answer that came back was not what Kite had expected.

"Please eat in peace."

Leaving those words, Mary fled from the room—though even in her panic, she locked the door securely.

"Hmm."

Watching her, Kite tilted his head in amusement.

---

Mary—Ibelin—was screaming internally.

Aaaargh!

She returned to her room on the second floor and threw herself onto the bed. After rolling around furiously and burying her face in the pillow, she finally regained her composure.

"I've been found out."

No—she shouldn't panic. She had always known that someday he would realize she wasn't a maid but the kidnapper. She hadn't exactly hidden it carefully from the start.

The problem wasn't that.

"The stew."

Ibelin groaned.

She had never imagined that the stew she learned from her grandfather would give Kite a clue. No—it had started as soup, so why had it turned into stew?

"Fool. Idiot."

If her grandfather knew how to cook, she should have thought about where that influence came from.

Ibelin let her body go limp and stared at the ceiling. Lately, she had been so focused on the basement that she was exhausted. Her body felt like wet cotton.

She decided she needed to rest a little—her mind would work better afterward.

In that state, Ibelin slowly closed her eyes. It didn't take long for darkness to come and her mind to settle.

Clang!

A sharp noise suddenly woke her. Soon after, she realized where she had opened her eyes—the basement, Kite's confinement room.

Kite, having finished his meal, had shoved the dishes off the tray, letting them crash to the floor. The sound she had heard was the breaking of dishes.

What a personality.

She already knew, but seeing it anew made her afraid all over again. She must never let Kite discover her true identity. If he found out who she was and what she could do—how would he react?

It wouldn't end well.

Just then, she saw Kite picking up a shard of the broken plate. He held a fairly large piece and spun it between his fingers. Though its edge was sharp, his fingers remained unscathed.

"It seems you're underestimating the Swordmaster."

A warrior who had reached the pinnacle of the body—they said that whatever such a person held could become a weapon.

Kite grinned, then tapped the wall with the shard. He stood at one spot and raised the fragment higher.

A blue aura flickered over the shard—but Kite didn't immediately pierce the wall with it. After looking it over as if measuring, he merely hid the shard under his pillow.

"I'll observe a bit more before I move."

Even while confined by his kidnapper, Kite's face looked relaxed. He seemed to believe he could escape at any time.

What can he do with just a broken plate shard?

Even as she thought that, she felt a strange sense of unease.

Around then, Ibelin woke from her dream.

"Hah!"

Ibelin blinked blankly, then sat up. She had just glimpsed the future through prophecy. Come to think of it, she didn't know much about Swordmasters.

She had heard a few stories from her grandfather—but she couldn't trust all of them.

Cutting mountains with a sword, parting rivers—that was like the power of a god. No matter how much she loved and trusted her grandfather, that part sounded like an exaggeration. But what if it were true?

If he could escape anytime, he might be staying confined on purpose.

Ibelin bit her lip. She had to go down to the basement and check if the dishes were broken.

She had only meant to close her eyes for a moment, but the house had already grown dark. She lit the lamp on the bedside table, picked it up, and grabbed the gun she always carried.

Then, carefully descending to the basement, silence greeted her. Nothing had happened yet.

No—she couldn't let her guard down. Something might have already occurred. Cautiously unlocking the door, she saw the floor in disarray. The dishes had already been shattered and scattered. From the bathroom attached to the room, she heard the sound of water.

Fortunately, Kite seemed to have stepped away to wash. The thought of washing while kidnapped—truly, he had nerves of steel.

Still, this is good.

She needed to resolve this quickly. Ibelin swiftly swept up the broken dishes with a broom. Then she approached the bed and lifted the pillow—and there, as if on display, lay a piece of the shattered plate.

"Hoo."

A low sigh escaped her involuntarily. Ibelin carefully picked up the shard. As she held it and stepped down from the bed, she suddenly felt a gaze upon her.

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