The Baby Tiger Will Be Raised by a Squirrel
Episode 17.
Five gold coins' worth would easily feed another household for an entire month….
‘It’s simply that the amount Commander eats in one sitting is far too monstrous.’
Gale firmly swallowed the words rising to his throat.
Their commander had never once bestowed a gift simply because a servant had been hired.
‘Commander must have taken quite a liking to her poem.’
Gale resolved to take a swift look at the poem the moment Kuhn stepped out of the columbarium.
***
When the children and I returned from the columbarium, Robert, the butler who had warmly welcomed us yesterday, ushered Jackjack and me into the reception room of the main estate.
Hokan had slipped upstairs to his quarters, claiming he had business of his own to attend to.
Robert served us warm black tea and savory cookies.
Sitting beside me, Jackjack nibbled steadily away at his cookies with great diligence.
I did not know what circumstances had prompted him to move to the capital, but how dearly he treasured his northern homeland was abundantly clear from his current actions alone.
I had assumed we would depart for the capital tomorrow, but a note Gale left with the butler informed me that we would be staying another day.
The Duke had apparently conveyed that the journey had been far more demanding than anticipated, so we ought to rest well.
Yet the Duke himself had not rested for a single second, bustling across the territory to settle administrative affairs.
Robert continued, as if answering the very question lingering in my thoughts.
Only then did I feel I could somewhat understand the Duke's heart.
Having been born and raised in the North, he surely would have wished to remain in these familiar surroundings.
Yet his affection and concern for his nephew ran far deeper.
And now, Hokan was also unequivocally his own son.
I tilted my head, puzzled in spite of myself.
What could an accent possibly have to do with Hokan?
Though I failed to see why speaking in a regional accent had anything to do with imperial dignity,
I nodded for the time being.
I felt the punishment inflicted upon the nurse had been far too harsh.
To be flogged simply for speaking in a dialect seemed beyond cruel.
The duke before the Former Duke—which is to say, the current Duke’s father—must have possessed a temper far more ruthless and unyielding than I had imagined.
Having lived through such trauma, it stood to reason the Duke was so sensitive about dialects in an effort to prevent anything of the sort from happening again.
Robert beamed, shifting his gaze toward Jackjack, whose cheeks were still puffed full of cookies as he munched away.
Ugh. Why was everyone so curious about Jackjack’s age?
Jackjack held up his three stubby little fingers once again.
“T-T-ree yeezs. Cough.”
Fortunately, with his mouth packed full of cookie crumbs, the pronunciation came out completely garbled.
Quickly offering a smile, I answered in his stead and handed the boy some water.
***
I spent the afternoon touring various corners of Blanders Castle.
After dinner, I took Jackjack out into the gardens for a stroll.
Since it was late spring, the blossoms in the capital had already fallen to make way for lush greenery, but here in the North, the flowers remained in full bloom.
Jackjack and I took in the sights with wide eyes, completely captivated by the charm of the manicured grounds.
A path in the inner garden led toward the courtyard nestled between the main building and the annex.
Upon stepping near the courtyard's entrance, I saw an immense tree soaring tall at its very center.
One look was enough to tell that this was the northern Holly Tree said to house a spirit.
Even from a slight distance, an indescribable majesty radiated palpably from the massive trunk.
For some reason, I could not help feeling this colossal tree bore an uncanny resemblance to the Duke of Blantiger.
The sun was sinking at a rapid pace.
Basking in the twilight, the leaves seemed to take on the crimson hue of autumn foliage.
Looking where Jackjack pointed, I spotted a boy who looked like Hokan beside a figure clad in a black cloak.
They were conversing near the base of the tree.
Leading Jackjack by the hand, I made my way toward them.
In the brief moments it took to cross the grounds, the sun dipped fully beneath the horizon, and an indigo darkness settled over the courtyard.
For a moment, I thought stars were pouring down from the heavens.
A cloud of golden light was dispersing outward around the Holly Tree.
The cloaked figure stood with arms spread wide, swaying to a rhythm as though conducting the lights themselves.
As if spellbound, I continued forward, watching the clusters of light flutter and dance through the air.
At our call, Hokan glanced over and came walking toward us.
Jackjack pointed at the shimmering swirls of light in the air.
“Waaa…”
Jackjack and I watched the dance of the fireflies in sheer entrancement.
It felt as if we had tumbled into a world sculpted purely out of radiant light.
My gaze drifted back toward the cloaked person, who was passionately conducting them.
And so, we stood watching the dance of the fireflies unfold for a long time.
Only when the midnight golden spectacle finally drew to an end did the cloaked woman begin walking toward us.
