5

After leaving the hangar, I ended up in the command facility’s lobby.

Lobby, sure—but it’s just a few chairs and tables, and beyond that, a tiny front desk with one woman sitting there.

Hmm, is Ange still around?

I’ll ask at the front desk, I suppose. Ange would stand out, no doubt.

“Excuse me. Can I have a word?”

“Yes, how may I help you?”

The woman at the desk beams at me with a perfect smile. But I know—know it’s fake! I’ve seen her snap back to a straight face the second I turn my back!

“Wasn’t there a support maid here a little while ago? Blonde hair, green eyes?”

“Oh, yes—the refugee retrieval. She’s still inside, actually.”

“Then I’ll wait a bit.”

“Yes.”

I step away from the desk and take a seat in an empty chair.

Right now, the big question is what to do with Aise.

He seems to want to stay with Ange, but if he’s tagging along with Ange as her support maid, that means he’ll be stuck with us all the time.

Which means he’ll end up near the princess—no way around that—and that’s a real problem. Even if he’s a refugee and cooperating, he’s still an assassin from the old enemy country. Can’t guarantee he’s loyal.

“Huh… what to do about this…”

“Trouble on your mind? Have some tea.”

Smart of her—just now the receptionist came back with tea.

“Thanks. Yeah… I’m wondering what to do with the refugee’s kid. Can’t exactly let a former enemy’s child run free, not in my position.”

“That’s tricky.”

“Yeah, I’ll take my time figuring it out.”

“Good luck with that.”

Watching her walk away, I bring the tea to my lips.

Hmm… nice flavor.

Sipping my tea, lost in thought, the upper floor suddenly erupts in noise.

“Because! I’m Eld’s! So just give up!”

“It’s fine. Three of us is no problem.”

“That’s not it! I want just the two of us!”

They’re arguing like that as Anju and Ais descend the stairs. Behind them, soldiers—probably guards—linger, looking utterly awkward. Well, I suppose if you kept hearing that kind of talk nonstop, you’d feel awkward too.

I stand up, call out.

“Ange.”

“Eld-kun!”

Ange spots me, her eyes lighting up, and launches herself at me—then wraps her arms tight around my waist.

Right behind her, Ais comes sprinting, and wraps her arms around Ange’s waist too.

What the—what’s going on here…?

“Hey, watcha’ doin’—pay some mind to the folks around you. Those soldiers look like they’re about to bolt.”

I glance at the soldiers, pity in my eyes, and they just chuckle.

“Leave the guard to me from here on out—no worries.”

“Thank you. We’ll count on you.”

“Got it.”

They head up the stairs, shoulders lighter, relief in every step.

“Alright, got stuff to talk about. Let’s move. My room okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Anywhere you go, I’m there.”

With that, we leave the lobby behind.

Honestly, both of you—can’t keep your hands off my waist?

We make it to my private chambers and sit around the table.

Sipping the tea and snacks Ange brought, we start talking about what comes next.

So, first things first—let’s clear up where we stand. I’m the captain of the Third Princess’s Guard Unit, First Guard Armunale Division. And Ange here’s my support maid.

Yeah.

As for Eis, since the princess registered him as a refugee, he’s officially a refugee at the base. But since he did try to assassinate me, some folks who know the full story are gonna keep a close eye on him. Mostly my squad, really. That work for you?

Eis nodded, said it was fine.

And now—the most important part—Eis’s job.

“Supporting the lady.”

If he can do that, we won’t have any trouble. I told you—we’re the princess’s guards. But Eis’s from the Empire originally. Can’t exactly have him near the princess, not really. Not to mention, he’s not cleared for anything top-secret. Not even close.

So, naturally, I can’t have him near the Armunale—can’t risk it. And that means, if I want Ange’s help, I’m practically barred from most places.

Which just means… in the end, Eis’s wish might never come true.

“Mmm…”

Eis looks downright grumpy, hearing he can’t even get close.

But there’s nothing I can do about that. If he spent a few years helping out somewhere, quietly earning trust, maybe the restrictions would ease a bit. But right after fleeing? Even the princess’s orders wouldn’t change that.

“Hey, Ange…”

“Huh?”

“What kind of thing could Eis even do, do you think?”

I ask her, figuring someone who’s actually fought alongside him might have an idea. Ange crosses her arms, tilts her head, and frowns.

“Hmm… he’s got skill, sure. But I haven’t seen what he’s like as backup yet.”

Combat, healing, housework, wife material—she’s been drilled in all the basics. Haven’t seen her in action yet, but the knowledge’s there, night and day.

For now, mostly cooking and laundry help. I’ll handle the team’s meals, but hauling supplies to the storage bay? That’s more than even I can manage.

Seems like she’s getting help from the spare support maids and kitchen staff, but they’ve got their own jobs to do.

So yeah, someone who can pitch in around the place would be a real help.

Handing over the cooking’s a little nerve-wracking, but Ange’s always watching, so she’ll be fine.

“Got it. Then I’ll leave that kind of support to Eisle.”

“Leave it to me.”

“Anyway, that’s about it, huh? Oh, right—Eisle’s room.”

“Fine here.”

"We’re not the ones who’ll be fine, so go ahead and sleep in the proper room we’ve set up for you."

This is our private room, you know.

"Ugh... fine. I’ll listen."

"Good. Then I’ll show you to your room."

"Please."

We stand up and lead Eisle to the room. Well, technically, since we’re the ones keeping watch, it’s just next door to ours.

Smaller than our two-person room, compact and snug—like a little box you can tuck into.

"Here it is."

"Hmm."

Eisle steps inside and heads straight for the window, but doesn’t look out. Instead, he stares at the frame, the lock, like he’s reading it with his fingers.

"What’s wrong?"

"Good lock. This one’s a pain to pick."

"Oh, yeah—I know that feel. All the base locks are like that, aren’t they?"

"The ceiling’s a single slab, too. Hard to break in or assassinate from above. The walls are packed with gravel—security’s pretty tight."

"Fufufu, see? See what I mean?"

Ange nods proudly, somehow, though why she’s so pleased about this escapes me. Seriously, why are you two even thinking about break-ins and assassinations when checking out the room? All I cared about was the view from the window and how soft the bed felt. Maybe I should’ve been poking around more, huh?

"Oh, Eld-kun, don’t worry about it! This is our job."

"R-right."

If Ange says not to worry, then I won’t. Seems like the saner choice, honestly.

"Alright, we’re heading back, but if you need anything, just drop by anytime."

"Got it. I’ll come by in the middle of the night."

"Better not."

Why’re you so eager to be out at night, anyway!

You’re helping me with dinner tonight, so don’t go skipping out on me now.

Leave it to me.

With Eise’s hand thumping against my chest in farewell, we head back to our own room.

Sitting on the bed, I let out a puff of breath. The Eise might be harmless, but it’s surprisingly tiring.

And she’s oddly eager to sneak into bed. Usually, wouldn’t that be the other way around—me sneaking in, not her? Well, if I tried that, Ange’d probably slit my throat. And honestly, I’ve got no interest in that kind of trouble.

"Say, Ange—"

“What?”

Why’d you have to sneak into Eld’s bed on the first day? If you could’ve noticed from outside the tent, you should’ve figured it out easy enough, right?

“It’s a bit tricky, see. If there’s even a hint of hostility, malice, or murderous intent, you’d notice right away. But when someone sneaks in, there’s nothing like that from Eis. With desire, though—well, people always have that. So it’s harder to catch.”

“Huh. So that’s a thing? But you’ve turned back plenty of night crawlers before, haven’t you?”

…Wait, I think I remember that.

“Those kids were practically screaming desire. Honestly, if someone’s lurking in the shadows, grinning like a fool while drooling over fantasies, yeah, I can spot that easy enough.”

…What the heck is that even supposed to mean?

Still, it depends on what kind of mind you’re dealing with—how close you can sense it.

I mean, judging by what she’s saying, Ange’s starting to feel less like a person and more like something else.

“What about you, Eld? What’s next? I’ve got to start on dinner soon.”

“I’ve got paperwork to sort through. Been fighting nonstop—no real time to catch up. Stuff’s piled up like a damn mountain.”

Fuel requisitions, armament forms—of course. Registration for the current machine, reports on my duty as overseer for Ais. Plus, I’ve gotta go over the squad’s operating expenses, and figure out the cost of the wagon we used this trip.

Not all I do is pilot Armunale. That’s the hard part about being captain.

“Right. So I’ll bring dinner over?”

“Please.”

“Gonna have to deliver to everyone first—might be a bit late.”

“Not a problem. Just promise me it’s fresh off the stove.”

In the army, you don’t get many chances to eat something hot and just made. Mostly it’s a buffet of prepped meals, grabbing whatever’s on hand.

Just knowing you made it for me is enough.

“Leave it to me! Be right back!”

“Yeah, go on then.”

I watched Ange leave, then dumped a stack of papers onto the desk with a clatter.

◇

Ange arrived at the base’s mess hall, with Ais by her side. The kitchen, naturally.

Given it supplied food for everyone in the base, the place was fairly large—big enough to fit half a dozen people working at once, no problem.

Right now, half of it was in full swing, and dishes were being carried out one after another to the buffet-style tables.

“Hmm, what should we make tonight?”

“What’s your usual?”

“Something you can grab with your hands, or noodles you can down in one go. Most of the storage crew don’t want to waste time on meals.”

If you’ve got time to eat, you might as well be fixing Armunale. That’s the kind of thing you hear from the Armunale crew—no filter, no shame.

So instead of fancy meals, people prefer something you can eat quick—like sandwiches or burgers.

Still, gotta keep the mechanics' nutrition in mind, so gotta make balanced meals. Surprisingly tricky.

"Yesterday was sandwiches, today’s probably noodles? But honestly, variety’s getting thin."

After a few weeks, the menu starts running out of options, no matter how you slice it.

Ange’s scratching her head, wondering what else to cook, when Eis, who’s been prowling the kitchen, tugs on the hem of her dress.

"Hmm?"

"If you’re stuck on flavor, I can make something imperial-style."

"Uh, I thought about that—but no ingredients, you know?"

With Crossl, we had leftover imperial supplies to work with. But here? Minimal damage, no imperial rations. So making imperial-style food’s a real pain.

But Eise shook his head.

“Fine. Imperial-style. Not real, so we can use any old substitute.”

Eise answered, eyeing the spice rack.

“Then let’s give it a try. Imperial-style sounds a bit curious. What’re we making?”

“If you want something easy to carry, roll it up. Bake flour into a skin, wrap meat or veggies in it.”

“Ah, so like Trétiar-style, huh.”

Ange knew of the dish, sure enough. Just… it seemed to take a bit more time than just slapping bread on a sandwich, so she’d always steered clear.

But now Eise was here—plenty of time for prep. She’d go with his idea.

“Can I handle the spices? I’d like to make the dough.”

“Got it. Go ahead, no problem?”

“Yeah. I’ve got permission.”

Basically, the support maids can use whatever’s in the dining hall’s pantry—no questions asked. They even whip up extras for the storage crew and the maintenance crew on the side, so cooks like us are grateful for it. Besides, if they asked each time, “Can I use this?” or “Is it okay?”—well, no one cook knows every last thing in the kitchen. Impossible to answer.

So it’s all good—go ahead and use whatever you need, just don’t waste it.

That’s the deal.

“Got it.”

While Ais selected the spices, Ange pulled the bread recipe from memory and gathered the ingredients.

Simple enough—just flour, salt, water. Then knead it all until it’s ready.

“Alright!”

She rolled up her sleeves, gave herself a little pep talk, and started mixing the ingredients.

Ais came back with the spices chosen.

“That’ll do. Now we just need vegetables and meat.”

“Vegetables are raw, right? What about the meat?”

When I asked if there were all sorts of variations—like baking the block whole and slicing it, or frying minced meat—Ais came back with a pork block.

“Too much hassle. Not enough time. We’ll just cut the block and grill it. Proper imperial style.”

“Ah, I see.”

We cut corners where we could, but kept the imperial feel in mind throughout the prep.

By the time Ange’s dough had formed a decent lump, Ais had finished his side of the work.

“Sister, let me help.”

“Thanks. This is tougher than it looks.”

“Kneading technique matters. Press down from the top.”

Bouncing lightly, Ais pressed his full weight into the mass, squashing it, stacking it, over and over.

“Huh-huh.”

Ange watched, then glanced at the other ingredients.

The vegetables were sliced thin and even, the meat cut a bit thick, giving it a nice chew. It was marinated in a sauce made from seasonings—close inspection showed little pricks from a fork, like they’d been poked to let the flavor seep in.

The cooking was nearly flawless. Hard to believe this was the work of an assassin.

“Why’re you so good at this? That’s not exactly useful in your last job, is it?”

I kept it vague, since there were other cooks around.

“Needed. I’ve had to work as a maid sometimes. Can’t get hired if you can’t cook or sew.”

If you’re planning to get close to your target slowly, you’re not getting in the door without those skills. And if you’re good at them? Well, that just means you’re closer to the master of the house, right away.

“Ah… I see.”

“Done. Now, roll it out thin and grill it. And while we’re at it, cook the meat too.”

“Yeah, I’ll help with that.”

We take turns with the cotton swabs, stretching the torn fabric thin and round. Then we heat the frying pan and sear each one thoroughly, transferring them one by one onto another plate.

Thin as it is, they cook fast—before we know it, the whole thing’s done.

“Just need to roll them now.”

“Back at the manor, they’d do a little show, finishing right in front of you. What about this?”

“Nah, that’d just be extra. Let’s finish them first, then take ‘em.”

“Got it.”

An hour later, we’ve got nearly a hundred rolls done.

“Guess we made more than I thought.”

“Better than none.”

“Yeah. So, let’s head out?”

We lift the big plate piled high with rolls and head toward the storage bay.

“Dinner’s ready!”

A chorus of “Ooh!” answers from Ritz and the others as we step inside. Soon the maintenance crew starts gathering around.

“Today’s special: Trietia—imperial-style food!”

The maintenance crew lean in, curious, lifting the rolls and cramming them into their mouths. They’re gnawing away without a care.

Ange glances at Eise, gives a firm thumbs-up.

Eise exhales a quiet breath, small smile creeping up.

◇

“So, this ‘imperial-style’ seasoning—what’s that all about?”

I’m chewing on grilled meat, listening to Ange talk about how it’s made.

A little kick to it—rich, bold, makes your mouth water. Want rice, but even plain bread’s plenty tasty. Trietia-style’s tempting, but they’ve used up all the dough. Can’t help it. Next time, I’ll try it myself in the storage bay.

“Tastes good, right? We made this with just the kingdom’s seasonings. Eise said it lacked depth, but if you’ve never had the real thing, who cares?”

“Yeah.”

This time, I reckon I could actually handle the other jobs properly—and blend in quick, too. Might even be able to move together with the others sooner than expected.

“That’d be a relief. Gonna have to leave the base soon, I think.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. The Princess wants to check the train’s progress firsthand. So we’ll be heading out to Fokrake. Though, it’s probably just a day trip—maybe a night camp at most.”

Since it’s already reached this far, we should be able to check the work just half a day ahead from here.

“Then I’ll stay behind.”

“Please do. Gotta keep an eye on Eise too.”

“Leave it to me. Eise’s a good girl—surprisingly easy to get along with.”

“Would be, if it weren’t for that over-the-top flirting.”

I’m grinning to myself, remembering how desperately Eise tried to get into our room, when a cute little yelp comes from outside the door—“Noo!?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah, I got caught.”

“Caught by what!?”

Ange stands up, opens the door. There’s Eise rolling along the hallway, one hand pressed to her eye.

“This room’s secure, so if you’re sneaking in or eavesdropping, you’ve gotta get close to the keyhole. So I rigged it—just a little surprise. Sprayed some chili-water right where the lock is. Nice and neat, huh?”

“Gh—sister, that’s cruel…”

Eise’s eye’s red as a beet, tears streaming up, looking up at Ange with a pout.

“Peeking’s a no-go.”

“It’s not peeking. I just… wanted my sister’s warmth.”

“Breaking in’s a crime!”

“Gnurr… today, I give up.”

“Give up tomorrow too, okay?”

I watched Eis’s back as he shuffled back to the room—somehow, it looked like a dog that hadn’t been played with by its master, tail and ears drooping low.

This back-and-forth… are we really doing it every day?

Armunale, Volume 1, now available from MF Books.