Personal Attendant Gevra

Early morning, thin mist.

Today was Romain's tenth day in Sigg Town.

He arrived at the manor hall.

Origin Manor had only been established recently, and everything was rather rudimentary, but Romain was full of confidence in the future.

Aaron, Green, and Gevra sat down to eat with him.

War Knights held high status. Some had fiefs, while others did not. They might not have been qualified to sit at the table in the Grand Duke's territory, but they certainly were in Sigg Town.

Romain valued Gevra greatly and appointed her as his personal attendant.

He sprawled carelessly in the seat of honor, picked up a piece of bread, and was about to take a bite when he noticed Gevra. After some thought, Romain asked, "Gevra, how old are you?"

Although Gevra had chosen to go home.

Romain was not foolish enough to actually send this little Witch back. Keeping her at Origin Manor was the best choice.

The little Witch, now looking completely refreshed, appeared terribly uneasy. The way she tiptoed about made her look just like a little squirrel.

She stared blankly at the white bread, pan-fried venison steaks, roasted wild boar, stewed bear meat, thick vegetable soup, cheese...

Her nostrils twitched faintly, though she seemed afraid of letting anyone notice, so she barely sniffed. She caught the rich, incomparably sweet fragrance lingering in the air, making her mouth water as she kept swallowing.

She wanted to touch the food but did not dare, since she had not been given permission. Yet she desperately wanted to eat, leaving her caught in a dilemma—when she had followed Romain back to Origin Manor last night, it had already been late. Romain handed her over to the steward, Seth. The old gentleman ordered the maids to drag her into a temporary bathhouse, where they scrubbed her clean without further ado. Then they sent her to a livable wooden cabin. When they heard her stomach growling, they even specially brought her dinner—a steaming bowl of wheat porridge, a plate of diced salted meat, and slices of cold bread.

Strictly speaking, that meal had been the most decent one she had ever eaten in her life.

But compared to the feast before her now, it seemed utterly lacking.

Gevra had never seen such an abundant spread of dishes. Even when she had gone with her parents to Agricultural Officer Mol's home to borrow grain as a child, she had never seen so much food on Lord Mol's table.

I want to eat so badly! Can I eat? Is this really for me?

She was conflicted. The clothes she wore had been temporarily given to her by Romain's maids. Though they did not fit very well, the comfortable fabric was far better than the linen clothes she had worn before.

The blankets last night had been warm too, and she had slept wonderfully. When the maids woke her, she felt as though every bone in her body had gone soft.

Just like Lady Shasta, the people here did not despise her for being a jinx.

That stern-faced old grandpa had brought her here, so he must have wanted her to eat, right? But could she really eat...

Romain called her again. "Gevra!"

This time, Gevra heard him. She immediately jumped up from her chair in fright, but lost her footing and nearly smashed her forehead against the table. At the critical moment, Green, who had been watching her all along, swiftly reached out, grabbed the back of Gevra's neck, and lifted her back onto her feet.

Gevra looked at Romain timidly.

Romain pressed down with his palm, signaling for the unfortunate child to calm down, then asked again, "Gevra, how old are you this year?"

The girl blinked first, then nervously raised both hands before her eyes. Her ten fingers moved as if she were playing a piano, but what she played was clearly no beautiful melody—Romain's question had stumped her.

At a loss, she said, "Ten... no, eleven..."

Romain smiled. He knew Gevra was very young. She was tiny, only about 1.3 meters tall, perhaps twelve or thirteen at most. She had long, coarse black hair and brown eyes as timid as a fawn's. Her entire body was exceedingly thin, so skinny that she was practically all bones.

Her arms were as thin as sticks, and her cheeks were hollow, making her look like a little scrawny monkey. Only her large eyes remained lively, which, combined with her emaciated appearance, made her look rather frightening instead.

It was unbelievable that this unfortunate child was still alive.

Anyone else would have died in the mountains long ago.

Romain had only asked her age to start a conversation. He said, "Gevra, you know who I am, right?"

Gevra said timidly, "I know. You are Lord."

Romain nodded in satisfaction. "Mm. You are now my personal attendant. A personal attendant is someone who stays by my side. Whatever I eat, you eat too. All right, you may eat now."

Gevra sat back down with a puzzled expression. She did not understand what a personal attendant meant, but Romain had put it plainly enough that she thought she understood. Moreover, his deliberate explanation made her feel extremely reassured.

So after Gevra sat down, she did not use the knife and fork before her plate. Instead, she immediately grabbed a piece of white bread with lightning speed and stuffed it into her mouth in huge bites, puffing out her cheeks until they were round, like a starving ghost reincarnated.

Seeing how fiercely Gevra was eating, Aaron, who sat across from her, silently pushed the cup of milk beside him over next to Gevra's plate.

But Gevra did not choke.

She swallowed a great deal, but she chewed slowly and thoroughly, breaking every bite into tiny pieces before swallowing it.

Seth frowned as he watched, intending to step forward and teach her table manners, but Romain raised a hand to stop him.

The child had been terrified of hunger. They could correct her slowly in the future.

Romain was exceedingly patient with Gevra. After all, he had gone to great lengths to snatch her from Shasta.

After breakfast, Romain brought everyone to Sigg Town to inspect the work.

As they drew closer and closer to the market town, Gevra grew nervous at the sight of her home region.

When Romain entered Sigg Town, he found that yesterday's progress had been fairly good. There were already more than thirty tons of manure piled up in plain sight alone.

After all, with so much manpower mobilized, most of Sigg Town's residents treated collecting dung as corvée labor and cooperated readily.

Of course, it might also have been because lunch was provided and there were wheat rewards.

Mol received the news and immediately came to welcome Romain.

Behind him followed a pair of terrified-looking peasant husband and wife.

"Lord Romain, these two are Hard Nova and Sima Nova, Miss Gevra Nova's parents."

When the two saw Romain and Gevra—especially the latter—Hard's legs gave out beneath him. He dropped to his knees and begged, "Honorable Lord, please show mercy. That devil is not my daughter. Don't burn us to death."

Gevra's eyes had lit up at first, but after hearing her father's words, her expression dimmed once more.

Romain said coldly, "Gevra is now my personal attendant. From this day onward, seeing her is the same as seeing me!"

Witches had long been stigmatized in the eyes of commoners.

That was thanks to the Church's vigorous propaganda and brutal methods. Once a Witch was discovered, her entire family would be burned to death alongside her.

This made ordinary people dread any association with Witches, avoiding them as if they were venomous snakes and scorpions.

Hearing Romain's words, Hard was overjoyed. The Church represented fairness and justice, while noble lords likewise represented power and status. Since Gevra had become the Lord's personal attendant, their whole family would not have to die!

Sima suddenly said, "My Lord, a Witch came looking for us the day before yesterday..."

Hard tugged hard at his wife's arm, but Sima still insisted on telling him what had happened that night.

Romain remained calm and nodded. "I understand. Do not spread word of this. Go about your business."

"Praise the Lord!" Hard blurted out in a hurry, then dragged Sima away as though fleeing for their lives.

Yet when Sima turned, the expression on her face as she looked at Gevra was complicated. Gevra gazed longingly at her mother.