Upon reaching their assigned table, Fie heaped piles of food onto her plate, grateful tears of joy falling from her eyes as she ate. Her companions were no doubt surprised — while the food was of decent quality, it was hardly anything to cry over, or be so immensely touched about.
At the very least, Slad, Remie, and Gees thought so.
Other than the kebabs Crow had purchased for Fie, this was her first real meal in approximately two weeks. There was no way it wouldn’t be delicious to her.
Upon observing the hungry Heath, Slad and the other squires at the table could only come to one conclusion: (He’s probably from Teornoah...)
To some extent, that was true. However, they never would have guessed in a million years that they were seated with royalty — although said royalty was currently stuffing themselves full of food.
Of course, no one knew that she was Fie, the add-on bride that was treated as an interloper, the legal second wife of the King of Orstoll. They had no misgivings of their newfound friend — although they hadn’t hailed from the same circumstances.
Slad and Gees were of peasant birth, having attended the city’s public facilities for an education in the sword. Remie, on the other hand, was the son of a baron who was taught the ways of the sword by a private tutor — eventually passing the test himself. In some ways, they were all aware of the circumstances of those from Teornoah, who were picked for their talents and abilities — one day becoming knights that would protect Orstoll.
As all three of them admired the Royal Knights and their philosophy, they were fiercely loyal to the knightly virtues and ways. To discriminate against one of their own, as such, was unthinkable for a knight.
Perhaps it was also because Fie was easy-going, and wasn’t exactly an antagonistic individual. In fact, her bad table manner could even be seen as a kind of individualistic charisma.
“So... which platoon did you get assigned to, Heath?”
“Slad and I are in the 5th, and Gees is in the 9th.” Remie duly informed Fie of their respective assigned platoons.
“Oh, I was assigned to the 18th Knights.”
Answering Remie’s question while wolfing down some hamburger steak, Fie was suddenly aware of a buzz spreading across the canteen. Although the canteen was far from full, the eyes of squires who were currently seated were suddenly fixated on Fie — and Fie’s three companions were no exception.
“Th-The 18th!?”
“I-Is that true? Heath!”
“Yeah, what of it?” Disregarding the reactions of those around her, Fie continued to concentrate on her food, nodding as she ate. “Is that such a big deal?”
The three of them had looks of disbelief — Remie in particular had the color drain from his face as he craned his neck, leaning uncomfortably close to Fie.
“Of course it’s a big deal! Everyone admires the 18th! Only the best who pass the test go to the 1st, but the 18th is even more popular! Not just amongst us squires, but even actual KNIGHTS want to get into the 18th! But only those chosen by Master Yore can join... There has never been a squire who has been directly recruited into the 18th before, until you came along! That was why we all thought squires couldn’t get in!”
“I-Is that so...”
Fie was honestly surprised at how the usually calm Remie was capable of such excitement, occasionally tripping over his words as he expounded upon the marvels of the 18th.
“How did you get chosen!?”
“Yeah! Tell us Heath! Tell us!”
Now, both Gees and Slad were making intense faces, enough for Fie to feel pressured by this sudden wave of change over her companions.
However, those were the questions that everyone in the canteen wanted to ask. They were all under the same impression — that if they had somehow discovered the reason that Fie had been chosen, they would have a chance at joining the 18th too. And thus, all the squires in the canteen were now deathly interested in what Fie had to say.
“Um. Well, the Captain picked me...”
“Captain? You mean Master Yore!?”
“Yeah...”
(Picked by Master Yore!?)
(What’s that kid’s secret...?)
All the squires in the canteen strained their ears, eager to learn of Heath’s “secret.”
“It seemed like it was because I was so small.”
With those words, a sudden silence swept across the canteen.
Along with her three companions, the squires in the canteen quietly scrutinized Fie’s figure, and they all came to one conclusion: she was, indeed, small. So much so that even the next smallest squire in the room was of a significantly bigger size. In fact, in the eyes of these squires, Fie may very well have been the smallest squire to ever enroll in the history of the Royal Knights. And then they all had a single, united thought.
(What the hell kind of reason is that?)
And that was the one thought that simultaneously crossed their minds at that moment in time.
(We’re probably too big for that...)
To the squires, it was possible to bulk up or eat more to have a bigger build, but shrinking was very much impossible. After all, no matter how much one worked, one does not somehow just become... smaller.
In the end, the squires who adored Master Yore, and had dreams of entering the 18th, realized that their dreams were just that — dreams.
“Oh... And something about being nimble. And guts.”
Without noticing the expressions of the squires around her, who just had their dreams dashed, Fie continued eating, unaware that her latest statement did not reach the ears of anyone in the room. Because with the very first reason alone, it would have been impossible for anyone but Fie.
“Hey guys... What’s wrong?”
Fie cocked her head slightly as the sound of many youths collapsing onto their tables in disappointment resounded across the canteen.