Chapter 4: I’m Not the Same as Before.
Ar watched as Leon diligently worked, following her instructions on how to bake bread in the stone oven.
She idly poked a fork into the bowl of tomatoes sitting on the table.
“…!”
The moment she bit into what she thought was an ordinary tomato, her eyes lit up.
She reached for more with her fork, attacking the remaining pieces in the bowl.
“What is this?”
The flavor was so unique she couldn’t help but ask. This wasn’t the tomato she had known until now.
Completely unaware of her shock, Leon continued kneading the bread dough as he casually answered.
“It’s an appetizer meant to whet your appetite before the main course. I figured it’d be the simplest dish I could manage with what we had.”
Leon glanced up to gauge her expression.
“Is it not to your liking?”
The humble wooden bowl contained bite-sized tomato pieces mixed with chunks of goat cheese.
A tangy aroma, likely from a dash of vinegar, mingled with the earthy scent of herbs sprinkled on top.
A hint of salt brought out a savory note, adding complexity to the dish.
It was unlike anything Ar had encountered before.
She had never seen ingredients combined in such a way—tomatoes weren’t just eaten whole or as toppings for bread, and cheese wasn’t usually paired with them.
This was something new, even outside her village.
It’s delicious!
Despite its unfamiliarity, it was utterly delightful.
The juicy tartness of the tomatoes paired perfectly with the rich cheese, while the tangy dressing enhanced their natural sweetness.
Parched from her errands in town, Ar felt the salad refresh her dry throat as effectively as a drink of water.
Leon called it a “salad,” and Ar voraciously cleared the entire bowl.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. The bread dough will be ready for the oven soon, so dinner won’t take long,” Leon said, mentally applauding himself for coming up with the dish.
Preparing it hadn’t been easy, but her reaction made it worthwhile.
She has quite the appetite, he thought, amused as he watched her enjoy his cooking.
Having been refused monetary compensation, Leon resolved to earn his keep by contributing however he could.
Cooking, though an impulsive suggestion at first, now seemed like something he could handle.
Ar’s enthusiastic approval only boosted his confidence.
Feeling inspired, Leon asked if she had any recipe books he could reference.
Between bites, Ar nodded eagerly, promising herself to purchase one the next time she visited the village.
Even if cookbooks were an indulgence, she thought they’d be worth the cost if it meant more meals like this.
By the time the bread was baked, the salad was long gone.
They tore into the steaming loaf, careful not to burn themselves, and found it as soft and tender as it looked.
The bread melted in their mouths, leaving them deeply satisfied by the simple yet fulfilling meal.
Ar, stuffed and content, sprawled out in a chair, a smile of pure bliss on her face.
“―!”
A startled cry from the kitchen interrupted her peace.
She glanced over to find Leon frozen, staring at a dark smudge on the wall.
Following his gaze, she saw the smudge move.
“What… what is that?”
Ar calmly grabbed a knife, flicked her wrist, and caught the creature with pinpoint accuracy.
“It’s a lizard,” she explained, adding helpfully, “If you roast it well, it turns crispy.”
“…I’ll pass on that,” Leon muttered, visibly uneasy.
Ar tilted her head, puzzled by his reaction, but dismissed it as personal preference.
“Impressive,” Leon remarked after recovering his composure.
Not understanding what he meant, Ar glanced at him.
“You hit such a small moving target on the first try. That’s no easy feat.”
“…It’s nothing,” she replied, trying to suppress the pride swelling in her chest.
It had been so long since anyone praised her that she couldn’t stop her lips from curling into a smile.
***
Later that day, Ar had finished her usual chores—checking traps, selling her catch, and skinning a squirrel she’d caught on the way home.
With her work done, she reclined in her chair but soon found herself craving something to snack on.
Goat’s milk would be perfect right now.
Heading to the kitchen, she found Leon still cleaning up.
She stared at him briefly before moving toward the jar where she stored the milk.
Lifting the lid, she found it empty.
“What are you looking for?”
“Goat’s milk.”
“Goat’s milk?”
Leon echoed, confused.
Ar sighed and led him outside to the goat pen.
One of the goats looked up at them, chewing lazily, its udders full from being left unmilked.
“Do you know how to milk a goat?”
“…”
Ar could already guess the answer from his blank expression.
Grabbing his hand, she guided him to the goat and positioned him in front of it.
“Here, like this…”
She said, reaching around him to demonstrate.
Leon was utterly bewildered.
The warmth of the goat was foreign enough, but the closeness of Ar—who showed no hesitation in getting close to him—was even more disconcerting.
Raised in a noble household, where rigid social boundaries were the norm, such familiarity was unprecedented.
With Ar’s guidance, they managed to collect a jar of milk.
Leon observed the goat curiously, noting its soft white fur and the calm, trusting gaze of its dark eyes beneath long lashes.
“What’s this goat’s name?” he asked.
“…I don’t name them.”
“Not yet?”
“Goats are just goats. I don’t name them.”
Following her grandfather’s teaching not to grow attached to animals meant for consumption, Ar never gave names to her livestock.
She had learned the wisdom of this when a hunting dog she’d raised for years was killed by a boar.
“Then may I name it?”
Leon asked while stroking the gentle goat, apparently taken with its demeanor.
Ar frowned slightly but couldn’t find a reason to refuse since she had no intention of calling it by a name herself.
She nodded.
“How about Bianca? She’s so white.”
“Do what you want.”
Leon smiled and began calling the goat “Bianca,” stroking its fur fondly.
Ar found it amusing that Leon, whose pale skin was even fairer than the goat’s, would comment on its whiteness.
She quietly observed him without a word.
That night, the two drank the freshly drawn, warm goat milk and went to bed.
Leon added some sugar from what she had bought earlier, and Ar found the sweetened milk immensely pleasing.
The creamy texture lingered in her mouth, leaving her in a cozy, relaxed state as she closed her eyes.
***
A few days passed since Leon arrived at the cabin.
Ar found herself speaking more often in those days than she had in the past few years combined.
Her only family, her grandfather, had been a man of few words.
Their conversations rarely went beyond terse exchanges about practical matters: whether the hunting tools were in order, if any prey had been caught in the traps, or whether she got a fair price for her goods in town.
After her grandfather passed, even those sparse conversations disappeared.
Over the years, Ar had spoken so little that her words were limited to asking for prices at markets or negotiating contracts.
But Leon’s presence changed that.
Now, she was engaging in longer conversations, something she hadn’t done in years.
She spoke to Leon about the forest, her hunting routines, the townspeople, the noble clients who commissioned her work, the prices of spices, and even the tools and trinkets in her home.
Usually, Leon’s questions would prompt her to answer briefly, but then she’d find herself elaborating, adding other details she hadn’t thought to mention before.
Despite her awkwardness with words, Ar enthusiastically answered Leon’s many questions.
“He sure is curious,” she thought.
To Leon, though, it wasn’t just curiosity—it was necessity.
Having lived a life of luxury where everything was done for him, he was now forced to manage daily life on his own. Naturally, he had to rely on Ar for guidance.
Ar, unaware of his background, simply found him to be an inquisitive person and didn’t mind his endless questions.
In fact, she enjoyed explaining things to him, finding unexpected joy in putting her own knowledge into words.
‘Talking is more fun than I thought.’
Ar, who had been alone for so long, was discovering the pleasures of conversation for the first time.
She began to eagerly anticipate Leon’s questions, watching for the slightest tilt of his head that might signal curiosity.
Meanwhile, Leon was having his own firsts.
Cooking, tidying up his bedding, organizing tools—these were all entirely new experiences for him. Yet, he adapted surprisingly well.
It turned out he had a knack for managing household tasks.
He had agreed to Ar’s demand to cook as payment for his stay, assuming his knights would come for him soon. But days turned into a week, and still, no one arrived.
During this time, Leon grew increasingly fascinated by Ar.
Her knowledge of the forest and her straightforward, unfiltered way of speaking captivated him.
Though most of what she told him was irrelevant to his life as a noble, he found her words endlessly interesting.
Her raw honesty and lack of pretense were a stark contrast to the polished, insincere conversations he was used to.
Before he knew it, Leon was looking forward to hearing her low, steady voice.
It resonated deeply, like a soothing hum, and he caught himself listening intently whenever she spoke.
In this way, the cabin owner and her guest grew closer during their time together.
They shared an unexpectedly peaceful and enjoyable companionship.
As the tranquil days passed, Leon began to grow restless.
It was clear his knights were delayed, and he decided he needed to act.
Determined to expand his understanding of the area, he asked Ar to let him join her on one of her patrols through the forest.
