Chapter 81

Noah noticed that the adults were talking about him and looked up at Dylan.

“Your Grace, Noah knows. Noah knows you too.”

Marcella had been asking whether Noah was aware that Dylan was a magician.

But the child, innocent as ever, had taken it literally. He thought she was asking if he knew who Dylan was.

Dylan felt an odd urge to pat the boy’s head, but one arm was holding Noah steady while the other gripped the reins, so he could not.

“Yes, I know.”

He answered instead. The tone sounded a bit too formal, but Noah seemed satisfied and grinned brightly.

Watching that smile, Marcella realized something surprising. Noah was not afraid of Dylan at all.

It was astonishing.

The Dylan she remembered had been raised under strict discipline. He had never been the kind to treat children with warmth. Most children found him intimidating, even frightening.

What stunned her even more was the awkward expression on Dylan’s face as he looked at the smiling boy.

He clearly did not know what to do. He could neither smile back nor ignore the child completely.

After a moment of hesitation, he gave that clumsy response, and the boy accepted it without a hint of doubt, smiling as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

It looked almost like a family.

Not a perfect one, of course. They were awkward and inexperienced, with plenty of flaws.

Dylan looked like a father who had just learned how to care for a child.

Yet somehow, he also seemed a little used to this small boy in front of him.

It was almost laughable. Since that incident, he had lived as if surrounded by thorns, refusing to let anyone near.

What kind of whim had led him to take in a naïve woman and a child who did not share his blood?

Marcella watched them for a moment, then snorted and kicked her horse’s side sharply, riding ahead.

The horse’s hooves tore up the dirt, sending dust flying. Dylan pulled lightly on the reins to turn aside and shield Noah.

Startled, Noah covered his face with both hands, then peeked through his fingers to look at Marcella.

Dylan worried that the boy might sense her anger, but instead, Noah spoke with pure admiration.

“Wow, Lady Marcella is so fast. I can’t even see her anymore.”

Relieved, Dylan laughed quietly.

“Yes, she is fast.”

“Let’s go too.”

The boy’s eager voice made Dylan smile faintly. He tapped Nocturne’s side gently, and the horse moved forward again at a calm pace through the forest.

The northern harvest festival was much quieter than the one in the capital. In the distance, the sound of galloping hooves could be heard, but no large group was driving prey together.

Occasionally, laughter echoed when someone hit their target, yet the hunters soon returned to their task in silence.

There were no attendants cheering or flattering their masters. Few nobles had even brought servants at all.

This was not a hunt to show off skill. It was a tradition meant to cull the overgrown game population during harvest season.

Dylan’s sharp senses took in every sound, every scent, making sure no wild animal had wandered near them.

A rabbit or deer would flee at the faintest noise, but boars, foxes, or bears were different. They did not run so easily. If he had been alone, it would not have mattered, but today he had Noah with him.

Dylan had been the one to suggest bringing Noah to the hunting grounds. Agnes had trusted his judgment and agreed. If the boy were hurt, Dylan would never be able to face her again.

He would not let even a scratch touch the child.

“Do you want to see how hunting works?”

He asked just in case. Since they had come this far, he wanted to let the boy see anything he wished.

But Noah shook his head firmly.

“Hunting hurts the deer.”

There were plenty of other animals in the forest, but in the boy’s mind, hunting simply meant catching deer.

Dylan wondered where he had learned that and hesitated before giving a short answer.

“I see.”

“Noah likes the horse.”

“Alright. Then we’ll keep riding.”

That innocent answer made Dylan smile before he realized it.

He felt foolish for even asking. What a gentle child, who cared more about animals than the thrill of a hunt.

Holding Noah securely, Dylan guided the horse to a stream and showed him the water glinting under the sunlight. He reached up to pull down a low branch so the boy could touch the leaves.

Noah gasped in wonder at the fish leaping from the stream and reached out to feel the fruit hanging from the branch.

He grasped one and said softly, “I’ll give this to Mom.”

“It’s not ripe yet.”

“What does not ripe mean?”

“It means the fruit hasn’t fully grown. When it ripens, it turns red. Right now it’s still green, and if you eat it, your stomach might hurt.”

“What if I don’t eat a lot?”

It seemed Agnes had taught him that eating too much could upset his stomach. Dylan let out a quiet laugh.

“Even so, this kind of fruit has poison inside while it’s still growing. It uses it to protect itself until it’s ready.”

At the word poison, Noah immediately dropped the fruit. Dylan caught it before the branch snapped back, then gently set it back in place so it would not scratch the boy.

Noah watched nervously.

“Noah won’t eat fruit anymore.”

His serious tone made Dylan nearly laugh. He could finally understand why Agnes sometimes shook with suppressed laughter when talking to the boy.

“You can eat fruit once it’s ripe. When it grows fully, the poison disappears.”

“Why?”

“Because by then, it wants to be eaten.”

“Being eaten is better? Why? Doesn’t it die then?”

At first, Dylan found the boy’s endless questions adorable, but now they were growing difficult.

He realized that explaining nature to a curious child in words simple enough to understand was far harder than commanding soldiers.

What had started as a lesson about fruit had somehow turned into an explanation of why wild boars ventured into human villages.

The boy’s curiosity truly had no end.

Dylan was no longer sure whether he was giving the child a riding lesson or teaching him about the forest.

“Your Grace, Your Grace, then what if…”

Noah began another question, but before he could finish, a shout echoed in the distance.

“Shoot! Don’t show your back.”

“Don’t panic. It’s just one of them.”

The tense cries were followed by a guttural roar that tore through the forest.

Dylan’s instincts kicked in. He pulled Noah tightly into his arms and gripped the reins.

A fierce growl split the air. It was both a threat and a cry of pain.

A bear.

Dylan narrowed his eyes, searching for the source of the noise. It came from the northeast. The wind carried the sharp metallic scent of blood.

“No, no.”

“To the stands. Block it.”

Panic spread in the voices that followed.

Realizing what was happening, Dylan urged Nocturne forward, speeding toward the commotion.

He had worried earlier about the viewing stands being built too low compared to the capital’s. This was exactly why.

Agnes was there. Knights would be standing guard, but his heart still tightened with dread.

“Noah, hold on tight and do not open your mouth.”

His voice was firm. He kept the boy secure in his arms as the horse raced through the forest.

Before long, he saw the bear. It was charging wildly, arrows jutting from its body and blood streaking its fur. The wounds had only driven it into a rage.

Dylan pulled the reins hard and brought Nocturne to a stop. In one smooth motion, he drew his bow from his back. His movements were so fast that they could barely be followed by the eye.

He set an arrow to the string and let it fly.

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

The arrow pierced the bear’s neck. Before it even hit the ground, Dylan had already nocked another and released it.

The second arrow struck the beast in the head.

Just as he reached for a third, the bear collapsed to the side with a heavy thud.