Daily Life

As dawn broke, the delicate frost patterns that had formed on the inn's windowpanes cast dappled shadows on the room's floor. The chill of the Northern Frontier Royal Capital was kept out by the thick stone walls and the warmth of the fireplace that had burned all night, leaving the room cozy and filled with a languid tranquility.

A month passed, like snowflakes quietly falling outside the window, silently blending into the daily life of this border kingdom. For Lowell and his companions, time seemed to slow down here.

For Frieren, this stay was no different from the intervals between her journeys over the past few centuries, and could even be considered more pleasant. Time, for this elf, was like fine sand in an hourglass, falling leisurely and unhurriedly.

Here, there is a sturdy roof to shelter you from the wind and rain, a fireplace with a warm fire burning all day long, and all sorts of new and exciting desserts that Lowell brings back from time to time from the shop in town that is said to be run by descendants of court pastry chefs.

War? That seems to be something from another world.

The enemy was not the Great Demons that required serious preparation, but merely the remnants of a group of human warlords embroiled in internal strife and acting despicably. With King Marcus captured and the group leaderless, their forces were already in complete disarray.

Lupa and Linié, two warriors whose strength was comparable to First-Class Mages of the Continental Magic Association, along with the powerful but restrained Solitär, a Great Demons, went to clear the battlefield. The outcome was almost a foregone conclusion. It would be strange if they lost.

So Lowell and Frieren stayed behind, as was their custom. Participating in the wars between human kingdoms? It was neither their wish nor their necessity. They were more like two exclusive guests, occasionally hearing about the distant battles from the local inhabitants.

"Another victory has been reported from the front!"

"Great victory at the front! Another city has been recaptured!"

"Long live His Majesty Anthony! And those mysterious reinforcements are amazing!"

"I heard that the red-haired female warrior is named Lupa, and she can send more than a dozen enemies flying with a single thrust of her spear!"

"The one with pink hair is even scarier; he's as strong as a monster!"

"And that always-smiling green-haired lady, her methods are even more mysterious; it's said she's stronger than First-Class Mage of the Continental Magic Association..."

Similar discussions frequently reached Lowell's ears, to the point that he was almost sick of hearing them. Sometimes he even had the illusion that it wasn't Lupa and her women fighting, but rather some "victorious" general who had marched in.

But seeing the changes in the faces of the city's residents—from fear a month ago to hope—he knew that Anthony was indeed a good king who could bring peace to his people. This change was more reassuring than any good news.

That day, morning light streamed through the cracks in the wooden window, casting several slanted beams of light onto the floor of the room.

Frieren was nestled in the soft bedding, with only a few strands of silver hair and half of her fair and serene profile visible. Her breathing was even and long, clearly still immersed in a beautiful dream.

Lowell had already woken up and even gone to buy breakfast, but she was lying on her side, propping her head up with one hand, her black hair falling naturally, her gaze filled with a mixture of helplessness and amusement as she looked at the elf beside her, who was sleeping soundly as usual. The noise outside the window seemed completely oblivious to this small world enveloped in warmth.

He reached out and poked the bulge through the blanket. "Frieren, it's dawn."

A dissatisfied grumble came from under the covers. Like a snail afraid of light, Frieren shrank even deeper into the covers, trying to shut out all external disturbances.

Lowell remained unmoved and continued to tempt her, her tone light. "The dessert I promised you, I queued up this morning to get it. It's the first batch fresh out of the oven, still warm. If you don't get up soon, the crust won't be crispy anymore."

"Mmm..." A muffled response came from under the covers, heavy with sleepiness, but seemingly wavering slightly.

"Linié and Lupa are at the front lines, this whole portion is yours, get up and eat." Lowell added fuel to the fire, precisely targeting her subconscious possessiveness of food.

Frieren's eyelashes fluttered a few times, and her emerald eyes finally managed to open a crack, glancing sleepily at Lowell before lazily closing them again, her voice soft and nasal. "... Then you feed me..."

"Fine, fine, you can be lazy all you want. Now that Lupa and Linié aren't here, I have to feed you. You used to be able to eat by yourself."

Lowell smiled helplessly, then sat up, picked up the still-warm oil paper package from the bedside table, and carefully opened it. A fragrant aroma of caramelized butter and sweet honey instantly filled the room. Inside was a perfectly baked nut tart, its crust golden brown and topped with plump nuts.

He gently broke off a small piece, blew on it, and then offered it to Frieren's lips, the movement as natural as if he had rehearsed it countless times.

Open your mouth.

Frieren kept her eyes closed, but obediently opened her mouth slightly to accept the feeding. She chewed in small bites, her cheeks puffing out, a satisfied, cat-like expression on her face. She even unconsciously stuck out her tongue to lick the sugar crumbs from the corner of her mouth.

"Okay, again..." She uttered another indistinct syllable, but this time the meaning was clearly one of satisfaction.

And so, Lowell fed her bite by bite, and Frieren ate with her eyes closed, the room so quiet that only the soft sounds of her chewing and the faint sounds of the marketplace outside the window could be heard. The sunlight moved slowly, enveloping the two in a peaceful and warm atmosphere.

One fed patiently, the other ate with a clear conscience.

It wasn't until she'd finished the entire nut tart that Frieren seemed to fully recharge. Her emerald eyes opened wide, still a little watery from just waking up, but finally clearer. She rubbed her eyes, looked at the empty oil paper package, then at Lowell, and said calmly but firmly, "Add another one tomorrow."

Lowell, seeing her self-righteous demeanor, couldn't resist reaching out to ruffle her sleep-curled silver ahoge (cowlick), and chuckled, "Fine, as long as you can still open your eyes for it."

Frieren gave a soft "hmm" in response, then rolled over in the blanket, finding a more comfortable position, as if intending to linger a little longer in the satisfaction of breakfast.

Outside the window, a new day has begun in the Northern Frontier, while inside, time continues to flow slowly, like honey Melt in the morning light.