Chapter 242: Sisterly Dinner with Ulrich [3]

After the bath, Ulrich felt noticeably better.

The hot water had eased the stiffness in his muscles and drawn some of the ache from his shoulders and back.

For the first time since the battle, he did not feel as though his body might collapse beneath him with every step.

What he wanted most was sleep.

Another long, uninterrupted stretch of sleep beneath warm blankets, without physicians, guards, nightmares, or anyone trying to ask him questions.

Ulrich resisted the urge.

He had spent enough time unconscious already.

Instead, he dressed in clean clothes and made his way toward the dining hall for breakfast.

The Estate was fully awake now.

Servants moved quietly through the corridors, though many of them lowered their eyes the moment they saw him. Ulrich ignored the looks. He knew what they were staring at. The empty sleeve at his left side made it difficult for anyone to pretend nothing had changed.

By the time he entered the dining hall, breakfast had already been prepared.

Fresh bread, with fruit, eggs, and tea.

And a plate of steak cooked tender enough that he could manage it despite his condition.

Ulrich took his usual seat at the head of the long table.

He picked up his fork with his right hand.

Then he looked down at the knife resting beside his plate.

A small irritation passed through him.

Using only one hand was disagreeable.

He could hold the fork.

He could eat.

But cutting meat, opening bottles, fastening clothes, drawing a weapon, and performing dozens of other simple tasks had suddenly become more complicated than they had any right to be.

Ulrich hoped the physicians could reattach his arm soon.

He had barely begun eating when he heard footsteps and quiet conversation outside the hall.

Three girls entered.

Hermione came first.

She was smiling faintly at something Esther had said, and Esther followed close behind her with a brighter smile on her face. Airam walked last.

Then Hermione saw Ulrich at the table, and she stopped completely.

Her expression turned blank with surprise.

"Y—You are here," she stammered.

Ulrich looked at her.

"This is my dining hall."

Hermione’s cheeks turned pink.

"I—I mean, you are already awake."

Ulrich stared at her.

Hermione tried to hold his gaze.

She managed perhaps two seconds before looking away again, her face turning even redder. Without another word, she walked quickly toward the farthest chair from Ulrich and sat down with as much dignity as she could gather.

Esther entered properly a moment later.

"Good morning, Lord Ulrich!"

Her smile was bright.

There was still a trace of nervousness in her eyes, but it did not hide the happiness she felt at seeing him awake, dressed, and sitting at the table.

Ulrich gave her a small nod.

Esther’s face lit up.

She immediately walked toward the seat at Ulrich’s left and sat beside him without hesitation.

Airam took the chair on his right.

She pulled it closer to the table and began serving herself food as though nothing unusual had happened the previous night.

Hermione stared at both of her sisters.

Airam beside Ulrich.

Esther beside Ulrich.

And Hermione sitting far away at the opposite end of the table like an unwanted guest.

"Hmph," she muttered.

Ulrich tried to cut the steak again.

The fork slipped slightly.

Before he could make a second attempt, Monika stepped forward.

"Please allow me, my lord."

Ulrich looked at her.

Monika smiled gently and took the knife from the table. She cut the steak into small, neat pieces, careful not to make a spectacle of the assistance. Once she was done, she placed the plate back before him.

Ulrich did not object.

"Thank you," he said.

Monika’s eyes widened slightly at the words.

Then she bowed.

"It is my duty, my lord."

"Good morning, Monika!" Esther said brightly.

Monika turned toward her with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Lady Esther."

She stepped back after that, though she remained nearby in case Ulrich needed anything else.

Ulrich resumed eating.

And everyone did so for the couple next few minutes.

Across from him, Airam ate quietly.

As usual, she was eating far more than anyone her size should reasonably be able to eat. Her plate was already nearly empty, and she had reached for more bread without the slightest hesitation.

Ulrich gave her a pointed look.

Airam did not react.

She continued eating as though she had not cast a sleep spell on him in his own bed, remained in his room until morning, or forced him into several minutes of confused reflection upon waking.

She looked very innocent.

Ulrich narrowed his eyes.

Airam glanced at him once.

Then calmly took another bite.

Ulrich decided not to continue staring.

There were some matters better addressed later.

"Did Ashara leave?" He asked.

Fabian, who stood nearby overseeing the servants, immediately answered.

"Lady Ashara left early this morning, my lord."

Ulrich paused.

His fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

He had told her to leave.

He had even teased her until she fled his room in embarrassment.

Yet now that she was gone, he found himself wishing he had seen her off. He wished he had spoken to her properly. He wished he had said something other than a careless joke and an order to leave.

A faint feeling of absence crept in his chest.

Ashara had stepped back into his life.

Not entirely, but dangerously enough.

And now that she was gone, Ulrich knew it would be difficult to return to pretending that he felt nothing for her. Old feelings were already flooding back through the open door.

"Who is Ashara?"

Airam’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

Ulrich looked at her.

She continued eating, but her eyes remained on him.

Obviously she knew who Ashara was, but she wanted to hear it from Ulrich.

Fabian answered before Ulrich could.

"My lady," he said gently, "Lady Ashara Frost is a member of the Arcadian Frost House."

"An Arcadian House?" Esther asked.

Fabian nodded.

"Arcadia has four great founding houses. They hold authority similar to royalty within their own nation."

Esther’s eyes widened.

"Then Lady Ashara is a princess?"

"In some ways," Fabian said with a faint chuckle.

Airam’s expression did not change.

"What was she doing here?"

Fabian smiled politely.

"Lady Ashara has known the Count since childhood. She heard he had been injured and came to ensure he was safe. That is all."

Fabian knew much more than he said.

He had known Ashara for years.

And though he would never speak openly of it, seeing her and Ulrich together again had brought him more relief than he expected. The distance between them had lasted too long. If Ashara’s return meant that Ulrich might allow someone close to him again, Fabian could only consider it a good thing.

Airam was quiet for a moment.

Then she said, "I have not seen her once in the two years we have lived here."

"You are asking too many questions," Ulrich said.

Airam looked at him.

Ulrich met her gaze.

Then Airam returned to her breakfast without another word.

"Oh," Esther said softly.

She seemed to be thinking about Ashara.

"I think she was very pretty."

Ulrich did not respond.

Esther looked at him nervously.

"Are you close to her, Lord Ulrich?"

"No," Ulrich answered immediately.

Hermione, who had been quietly eating bread at the far end of the table, gave a small huff.

"He is close to many women these days."

Ulrich looked toward her.

Hermione did not look back.

She took another bite of bread with far more force than necessary.

"We will always be the closest."

Airam spoke then without hesitation.

Esther brightened immediately upon hearing that.

"That is right!"

She giggled and leaned slightly closer to Ulrich.

Fabian and Monika exchanged a quiet glance.

Neither of them said anything.

But both watched the table with warmth.

The three girls had arrived at the Estate frightened, guarded, and alone.

Now they argued, teased, cried, laughed, and claimed their place beside Ulrich without fear.

Fabian’s eyes began to shine again.

He quickly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped beneath them, but it did little to hide how moved he was.

"I am glad, my lord," he said, his voice catching slightly. "The Countess would have been proud of you."

Ulrich winced internally, but he kept his expression composed.

"Are the tutors back?" He asked, changing the subject at once.

Fabian understood the attempt.

He straightened himself and folded the handkerchief away.

"Yes, my lord. They remained away during your absence, as instructed. We can summon them back whenever you believe the young ladies are ready to resume their studies."

Now that the sisters had returned, their lessons would need to begin again.

Everything Ulrich had arranged to prepare them for the world outside the Estate.

"W-We are ready to study again, Lord Ulrich!" Esther said immediately.

She sat up straight in her chair.

Ulrich looked at her.

Esther’s confidence lasted less than a second.

Her cheeks turned pink, and she lowered her gaze to her plate.

"Well," Hermione said, trying to sound unaffected, "I am ready too. The lessons are not particularly difficult."

Airam glanced at her.

"Now that dance lessons are finished, you will not suffer as much."

"Airam!" Hermione blushed and glared at her older sister.

Esther immediately brightened.

"I think Big Sister has improved a lot!"

Hermione looked toward her in alarm.

Esther continued, completely unaware of the danger.

"When you danced with Lord Ulrich at the Keep, you looked very beautiful."

Hermione froze.

Her face turned red all the way to her ears.

"Oh," Monika said.

She stood near the table with a tray in her hands and looked genuinely surprised.

"You danced with his lordship?"

"Yes!" Esther said happily. "All three of us did."

Monika looked toward Ulrich.

Ulrich remained perfectly still.

Fabian’s eyes began watering again.

"M-My lord...Gods be blessed..."

Ulrich did not look at him.

He had endured a battle against Valmorian soldiers, a disastrous journey, the loss of an arm, and three emotional conversations in less than a day.

But Fabian crying because he danced with the three sisters might be doing quite a bit of work on him.

"You will rest for several days before resuming lessons," Ulrich said.

The three sisters looked at him.

Ulrich continued before anyone could argue.

"You have only just returned. Your tutors can wait."

The girls did not protest.

They had been through too much. Even Hermione, who usually insisted she could handle anything, said nothing. Time together would be good for them. Airam, Hermione, and Esther had been separated, frightened, and brought close to losing one another.

They needed space to recover.

And perhaps Ulrich needed it too.

The threat of Sedhoran had not vanished.

Valmoria had not forgotten them.

But for the moment, the danger felt distant.

The Estate walls stood around them.

The sisters were reunited.

And Ulrich had made it clear that no one would take them without facing him first.

Airam and Hermione both felt the difference.

The weight that had pressed against them since they left their father had diminished a lot. They were not free from fear. But they felt safer here than anywhere else in the world.

Ulrich appeared confident in his recovery.

So, for now, it was enough.

He reached for the glass of wine beside his plate but before his fingers could close around it, Airam took it first.

Ulrich looked at her.

Airam moved the glass away from him.

The table fell quiet as everyone watched, confused.

Airam held the wineglass in one hand.

"You are recovering," she said.

"And?" Ulrich asked.

He did not understand the connection.

"If you drink wine," Airam said, "I will drink wine too."

She lifted the glass toward her lips.

In this world, she was old enough that no one at the table would have considered it scandalous. Wine was common at noble meals, served in small amounts even to younger members of a household.

But Ulrich’s expression darkened immediately.

The rim of the glass had barely reached Airam’s mouth when his right hand shot out.

He caught her wrist.

"No," he said.

Airam looked at him.

"Not before eighteen."

Esther tilted her head.

"Eighteen?"

Ulrich paused.

He thought about it, and then he corrected himself in a flatter tone.

"Sixteen."

Airam stared at him.

Ulrich stared back.

For several seconds, neither of them moved.

Then Airam lowered the wineglass.

Instead, she pushed her untouched glass of water toward Ulrich.

Ulrich looked at it.

Airam’s expression was perfectly serious, if not insistent.

Ulrich looked at the water and then at the wineglass still in her hand.

Without comment, he took the water and drank.

Fabian made a strangled sound behind him.

"M-My lord..."

Ulrich slowly lowered the glass.

Fabian was crying again.

This time, he had both hands pressed over his mouth as though he feared he would make too much noise.

Monika’s eyes looked suspiciously bright as well.

Ulrich felt a vein begin to throb at his forehead.

He set the water down, and he stood.

He turned and walked from the dining hall.

Monika hurried after him, likely intending to make certain he did not strain himself too much or forget the physicians’ instructions.

The door closed behind them.

For several seconds, the sisters remained quiet.

Then Esther looked toward Hermione.

"Do you think Lord Ulrich does not like us drinking wine?"

Hermione picked at a piece of bread.

"Maybe."

She glanced toward the door.

"Hmph. Even though he drinks it like water."

Airam sat silently.

Her eyes had fallen to the glass of water Ulrich left behind.

It was still half full.

She reached for it and stared at the rim of the glass for a moment, watching Ulrich’s lips print.

Then, without a word, she lifted it and drank from the same place Ulrich had.

And then she lowered the glass a bit louder than intended.

Esther tilted her head.

"Are you all right, Eldest Sister?"

Airam’s face was beet red.

She just stood up abruptly.

"I am fine."

And left the dining hall right after.

Esther and Hermione stared at each other, only more confused.

Meanwhile, Ulrich was about to head upstairs to his office, but then a knight interrupted him, inclining his head, one hand against his chest.

"My Lord."

"Speak."

"The prisoner, the witch, had requested to speak with my Lord."