Chapter 13: How to become a gossip reporter
Julius stood at the kitchen doorway, holding the neatly cleaned empty lunchbox in his hands.
The air was thick with the scent of butter, herbs, and roasted meat. The stew pot on the stove bubbled gently, while several maids busied themselves polishing the silverware.
Seeing him enter, they all bowed their heads in greeting, yet couldn’t help but sneak glances his way.
After all, although he was young, he looked every bit the meticulous and serious Saint Knight.
“Hey, isn’t this our little Saint Knight Lord?”
A hoarse voice came through the rising steam.
Julius looked up to see Ron approaching from beside the smoked meat rack, leaning on his Oak Cane. The old man’s apron was stained with sauce, and his grayish-white beard twitched as he hummed softly.
“Mr. Ron.”
Julius bowed slightly and handed over the lunchbox with both hands. “I’ve come to return the lunchbox.”
He paused briefly before continuing, “Also, I am only a Saint Knight Squire, not an official Saint Knight.”
“Why so serious, kid?”
With a thud, Ron’s Oak Cane struck the stone floor as his calloused hand took the lunchbox.
Suddenly, he raised an eyebrow, and his gray beard twitched slightly as he spoke.
“Well now, you ate every last bit?”
He held the lunchbox up to the light for inspection. The inside was spotless, not a crumb left behind. “How was the taste?”
“Excellent.”
Julius nodded earnestly. “You truly are the master chef here!”
“Ha ha ha—now that’s music to my ears!”
Ron chuckled and ruffled Julius’s hair. “Go on, come noon, I’ll show you what I’m really capable of!”
Several young maids pretended to organize the spice rack nearby, but their eyes kept darting this way as they stifled their giggles.
“Well, I’ll be going then.”
Julius bowed slightly and stepped out of the kitchen. From behind him came Ron’s loud, hearty shout.
“You lot, stop laughing! Get to preparing the ingredients for lunch!”
Julius sighed softly, a memory of Helos’s pale face after breakfast flickering through his mind.
Had the breakfast not suited her taste?
Rubbing his temple, the task Eleanor had assigned him seemed more complicated than he’d expected.
His footsteps faltered briefly in the corridor.
Maybe he should ask Miss Eleanor for advice?
But the thought was quickly dismissed.
As a Saint Knight Squire, relying on others even for such a small matter seemed inappropriate.
He pressed his lips tight, frowning deeply.
But what was he supposed to do?
Passing through an archway, the courtyard sunlight forced him to squint.
Not far off, the Steward was speaking to the Head Maid, a leather-bound notebook in his hand gleaming under the sun.
Julius suddenly held his breath, his gaze locked on the notebook in the Head Maid’s hand.
A clear thought suddenly struck his mind.
He slammed his right fist into his left palm.
That’s it!
I can record Miss Helos’s habits!
Exactly—if I can note down Miss Helos’s routines the way I do sword techniques during training…
That way, I wouldn’t have to trouble the young lady, and I could accurately understand the silver-haired girl’s preferences.
Two birds with one stone! Isn’t that perfect?
But where could I get a notebook?
He glanced around and finally fixed his eyes on a certain room in the manor.
***
“Knock, knock, knock!”
Julius stood before Eleanor’s door, gently tapping his fingertips against the wood.
“Come in?”
After a long moment, a sleepy voice responded from within.
The boy pushed the door open, greeted immediately by the scent carried in by the morning breeze.
Eleanor sat at her dressing table, her golden hair tousled over her shoulders, the ribbon on her robe loosely tied.
She rubbed her drowsy eyes; her long lashes, like tiny fans, fluttered in the sunlight as she yawned softly.
“Julius?”
Her voice was softer than usual, even tinged with the nasally sound of just waking up. “Why are you here so early…?”
Before she could finish, she covered her mouth to yawn again, a glistening tear welling at the corner of her eye.
The maid had left a steaming cup of tea on the dressing table, the glass reflecting the young lady’s sleepy reflection.
Sunlight poured through the window, bathing the room in a gentle, warm glow.
Eleanor reached out for her comb, but the sleeve of her morning robe slipped down, revealing a pale arm.
Still half-asleep, she held the comb upside down without noticing, staring blankly at her reflection.
“…In a way, you two sisters really are quite alike.”
“That’s only natural, isn’t it?”
Eleanor casually set the comb down on the dressing table. She rubbed her eyes, the ribbon on her robe swaying gently with the motion. “We’re twins, after all.”
She turned to the boy; her sleepy blue eyes flickered with curiosity. “So, what is it?”
“I need a notebook—and a pen.”
Julius’s voice sounded slightly tense.
“Hm?”
Eleanor tilted her head, a strand of golden hair slipping down her shoulder.
Her hand paused midway to the teacup. “What do you want those for? To take notes in class?”
“Something like that.”
Julius nodded. “I want to use them to record Miss Helos’s habits.”
“Whoa~”
Eleanor’s eyes suddenly widened, and her drowsiness vanished instantly.
She covered her mouth with both hands, ignoring the sleeve that had slipped down to her elbow. “That’s almost like being a peeping Tom~”
“??”
Julius’s eyebrows nearly shot up to his hairline, a huge question mark practically floating above his head.
His ears flushed visibly, and his voice inadvertently rose. “What are you talking about! I’m only doing this to better accomplish the task you gave me!”
“Just joking, just joking~”
Eleanor stuck out her tongue, lightly pressing a fingertip against her lower lip. “I can give you the things, but on one condition.”
“What condition?”
“You have to let me see them when you’re done.”
“Hey, didn’t you just flash a bit of a disgusted look?”
“That’s your imagination.”
“Fine.”
Julius cleared his throat and nodded solemnly. “No problem. I’ll show you the notes.”
Eleanor clasped her hands together, a satisfied smile blooming on her face.
“Hmm~ that’s more like it~”
She gently clapped her hands, the crisp sound echoing through the room.
The door opened in response, and a maid entered respectfully.
“Miss, your orders?”
“Go find a brand-new notebook, and a matching pen.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The maid bowed and left the room. Not long after, she returned, carrying a large, lavishly covered notebook.
Julius took it, his arm noticeably sagging under its weight—this notebook looked like one of those thick tomes from the church archives, thick enough almost to be a weapon.
His throat bobbed up and down. “Isn’t this… a bit too thick?!”