Birch Castle's conditions were crude, but host and guests alike enjoyed themselves.
Derek chose the bonfire feast unique to the Northland Nobles.
Knight Cesar quietly approached him and, somewhat embarrassed, made a request. "Viscount Derek, I have a son who is about to begin knightly training. I hope you can take him in."
In such a short time, the gap between their statuses had already widened.
Although Cesar had plenty of opportunities by the count's side, he could not possibly leap across the ranks and rise too quickly.
So Cesar adjusted his mindset. He did not believe their small measure of friendship could make him ignore the difference in their present stations.
Derek, meanwhile, wished to climb high, but not for the sake of such petty displays.
He knew what attitude to take toward different people.
Take Knight Cesar, for instance. He was the Old Count's confidant and had once helped Derek.
Throwing his weight around before him might have looked impressive, but it would damage his reputation.
Yet ignoring the differences in noble rank would likewise draw the resentment of many.
So he drained the ale in his cup in one gulp, letting a hint of drunkenness show, then reached out and seized Knight Cesar's hand.
"Cesar, my friend, it's a small matter. Leave your son to me, and I'll return him to you as a fine young man."
He disregarded status and spoke only of friendship.
Just like this gathering—rough and unrefined, unfit for polite society, yet exceptionally good at bringing people closer together.
This was an atmosphere one could not experience at a banquet with wine goblets in hand.
Knight Cesar's expression said it all. Even knowing Derek was being somewhat deliberate, he could not help but feel moved.
The slightest kindness from someone in a high