In This Life, I'll Assist You (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 15

“Can you manage it, Ergo?”

The Grand Duke asked Ergo, the armory keeper and blacksmith. Ergo looked at me, his eyes scanning the mask I wore from my seated position, studying it with the gaze of a craftsman.

“Yes, it shouldn’t be difficult. I’d just need the shape and size of the side to be covered… But is the face beneath this mask different from the side you’ve shown?”

His tone implied there was no real need to make a new one.

“A full-face mask would actually be easier to make.”

At those words, I slowly removed the half-mask covering my original face.

For some reason, I felt a pang of shame—a sensation akin to standing naked before everyone.

But now, I wanted to reveal my true face. I wanted to stand beneath the sun as I truly was.

And perhaps—just perhaps—if they saw the life I’d led, hiding a perfectly unmarred face, they might open their hearts to me just a little.

That small hope overcame my shame.

I took off the mask and looked at Ergo.

“This side is my real face.”

Ergo inhaled sharply.

“What happened to you? Your original face is pretty—I mean, no, ahem. It’s not ugly at all.”

He blurted it out before flushing red and quickly turning his gaze back to my right side, the undamaged one.

I should have replied to Ergo, but an unexpected surge of emotion welled up in my throat.

My eyes grew hot.

Afraid tears might spill over, I quickly put the mask back on.

“I’ve lived like this my whole life. The South deceived me into believing the ruined side was my real face.”

“How did you realize you’d been deceived? And how can you be so sure the right side is the real one?”

The Grand Duke’s voice was cold.

It sounded as though he was holding back something fierce, his head bowed, not even looking at me.

“…I found out by chance. That’s all I can say. I’m sorry.”

My voice trembled without my noticing.

After a moment, Arcadia spoke.

“I’ll give you a proper chance to prove yourself, so you’d better rise to it. I won’t go easy on you just because you seem weak.”

“That’s exactly what I hoped for.”

I offered a small smile.

Arcadia’s expression had softened somewhat.

[This is the timeline separator]

I followed Mobi—the only person who’d accepted me—to the barracks used as a kitchen.

The barracks was essentially a fully equipped kitchen, rivaling the culinary quarters of a grand castle.

A massive, elongated grill capable of roasting steaks for dozens at once. Countertops so spacious they’d still have room left even after laying out countless ingredients separately.

A handful of soldiers stood before the grill and counters, sweating as they prepared ingredients.

“Our cooks. You need to eat to have the strength to fight. This place provides our knights with their very source of power—truly, the heart of the Order.”

Mobi, whose build rivaled a bear’s, grinned with childlike cheer. He shouted,

“We are the Empire’s strongest!”

The young soldiers working nearby chanted in unison, clearly exasperated, raising their kitchen knives straight above their heads in perfect sync:

“Our taste is the strongest! We’re the Cooks!”

Given how perfectly timed they were, this clearly wasn’t their first time shouting this cheer.

“We bring joy to the Order through delicious meals—truly, we’re ‘the sunshine of the knights.’ Nice to meet you, rookie. Your name is…?”

“Estelle.”

“Right, Estelle. I’m Mobi.”

“Yes. Mobi…”

Mobi’s eyes sparkled—he was clearly hoping for a particular way I’d address him.

“Head Chef?”

“Head Chef… Hm, not a bad title. But it could use a little more flair.”

Was it lacking? This was tough.

After some thought, I spoke.

“Strongest… Head Chef?”

“Haha! I quite like that! But I prefer just being called Major Mobi.”

“Major?”

“Yes. The Grand Duke himself is our Order’s commander, Lord Nugent is deputy commander, and beneath him are several majors. I used to be a major, serving the Late Grand Duke and fighting across battlefields.”

Mobi’s eyes grew distant, filled with grand memories of the past.

He rolled up the long sleeves covering his thick forearms, revealing skin scarred crimson and melted from severe burns. The damage probably extended beyond just his arms.

“!”

“I nearly died after being struck by an oil-soaked flaming arrow. The Late Grand Duke saved my life. Sadly, after that, I lost strength in my arms and couldn’t wield a sword anymore—but I discovered the new world of cooking. Miss—no, Lady Estelle—you should stay strong too.”

Mobi was kind. His eyes rested on my face.

Ah, I see.

That’s why he accepted me.

He must have thought my right-side scars were also from burns.

“Thank you, Major Mobi.”

“Haha, of course.”

I wasn’t yet used to someone’s kindness.

Yet this unfamiliar warmth spread gently through my chest.

“If His Grace is right and your condition truly stems from dark magic, that’d be best. Burns are far too painful.”

At his words, I forced a casual smile. I still didn’t know how to respond to someone worrying about me.

But a warmth seeped into my frozen heart. What was this feeling?

“When we return north, ask Lord Adrian to examine you. If it’s magic-related, there might be a way to fix it.”

Suddenly, the Grand Duke’s words came back to me.

[We’ll need to show Adrian once we’re back in the North to know for sure.]

Could this Adrian truly uncover why my face ended up this way?

“Um… May I ask—just who is this Adrian?”

“Huh? Lord Adrian? He’s the greatest mage in the North—no, in the entire Empire.”

“I see.”

Unexpectedly, I found myself missing the North.

In my previous life, I’d gone there too—after Arcadia’s death, to kill his successor, Bran Ophelit, and dismantle the Order.

Back then, I’d succeeded.

But now, I go to protect the North.

A small hope was being sown in this heart that believed itself unworthy of happiness. My heart fluttered.

Mobi called out energetically.

“Well then, shall we find something you’re good at, Lady Estelle?!”

[This is the timeline separator]

“No waaay!”

I stood frozen, holding a large chunk of radish. Mobi, pale-faced and trembling, pointed at the radish I’d chopped.

“Were you trying to kill the radish?! I asked for rough chunks, not a fine mash! How could you pulverize this precious radish—the very radish that adds refreshing coolness to our piping-hot soup!”

“I’m sorry. I was trying to make it easier to chew.”

“There’s not a single knight here with dentures! Not one missing tooth!”

Mobi, crestfallen, grabbed the half-radish I’d mashed—not chopped—and dashed off with it. He placed it inside a massive paper box tall enough to reach the barracks’ ceiling.

“Are you throwing it away?”

“No, I’m trying to revive it. Not sure if it’ll work—I’ve never tried restoring something this brutally ruined before.”

“…”

A moment later, the box’s lid opened. Inside lay the revived half-radish.

How was this possible?

As I stood stunned, Mobi said,

“Ah, of course—Lord Adrian.”

“Is this sorcery?”

“Magic. This isn’t just a box—it’s a magical fridge that restores spoiled ingredients. Light as paper, easy to carry—essential on the battlefield.”

It was incredible.

Mobi spoke again.

“You seem to lack talent for prep work. How about grilling steaks? Can you handle that?”

I nodded vigorously.

I was confident I could grill meat.

As an assassin, sleeping rough until a mission’s end was routine. Even in barren wastelands, I’d built fires and roasted my own hunted game.

Grilling should be easy…

“No waaaay!”

Mobi wailed again.

A knight’s portion of steak was larger than I expected, making even cooking difficult. The stove’s heat was also nothing like an open campfire.

In the end, I charred the entire massive piece black.

The steak, too, was sent to the magic fridge—but it couldn’t be fully restored.

“I’m sorry.”

“Can’t be helped. I’ll just scrape off the burnt bits and eat it myself.”

Mobi said, disappointed.

“No! I’ll eat it. It’s mine.”

If Mobi ate the burnt steak I’d made, I’d be too ashamed to bear it. I quickly snatched the blackened steak from his hand.

These knights of the North—who, had I been an ordinary princess, I might’ve called my people—I’d ruined someone’s precious meal. I was truly sorry.

Watching me, Major Mobi muttered to himself.

“Lady Estelle, what on earth can I have you do? Fetching water would be too heavy for you…”

“I can do it.”

“Well… you don’t need to right now. We’ve got plenty stored. How about serving… Would that be too much?”

“I can do it! And um… maybe slicing that large piece of meat? I can handle a blade well…”

“A kitchen knife isn’t a sword. I can’t afford to waste good meat.”

Mobi said firmly.

In the end, I was assigned to serving.

[This is the timeline separator]

Dinner was goose steak and vegetable soup with radish to soothe the stomach.

Together with Mobi and another soldier, I carried over a hundred dishes.

Fortunately, thanks to my stamina and core strength as Sword Master, I could carry multiple plates without spilling a single drop of soup.

Mobi was delighted with my performance.

“We’ve found your talent.”

The last delivery was to the Grand Duke’s barracks.

Mobi had personally prepared this special course meal.

“His Grace was poisoned, so he must be weak. We must deliver it piping hot and warm.”

There was steaming special vegetable soup, steak tenderly slow-cooked at low heat by Mobi’s own hands, and—rare on the battlefield—a fruit dessert.

Carrying the dishes, I followed Mobi into the Grand Duke’s barracks, arms laden with various utensils. Arcadia stood before the entrance. He asked,

“Did Major Mobi prepare the food himself?”

“Yes, as always.”

Arcadia glanced briefly at me, then called into the barracks,

“Your Grace, shall we bring in the food?”

“Did Mobi come alone?”

The Grand Duke’s voice sounded from within. Mobi replied,

“I came with Lady Estelle—per your orders to attend you. Oh, and Your Grace, if you have laundry, please hand it over—we need to wash it.”

“Come in.”

With a reluctant expression, Arcadia opened the entrance.

I stepped inside for the first time, following Mobi.

A small portable pechka radiated warm light from a corner of the spacious green carpet.

The barracks was wide.

Opposite the pechka stood a white birch desk, piled high with documents—it seemed the Grand Duke conducted his duties here.

Beside the desk lay a neatly made, long cot.

The Grand Duke leaned against the desk, dressed not in silver armor but in plain clothes.

We set the food on a long table in the center of the barracks. Even after finishing, Mobi remained standing beside the table, so I had no choice but to stay beside him.

The Grand Duke still leaned against his desk.

“Mobi, is there something you wanted to say?”

“No. I just feel at ease watching you eat.”

“This looks delicious. You’ve worked hard.”

At the Grand Duke’s gentle words, Mobi smiled, nose slightly crinkling.

“May I eat slowly? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Of course.”

I turned to leave with Mobi, but the Grand Duke called out to me.

“Lady Estelle, stay—you’re needed to attend me.”

Flustered, I froze. Arcadia spoke.

“I can attend you myself. And you usually dislike being served.”

“I also have questions for her. Everyone else may go.”

“Then I’ll wait outside.”

With a sour look, Arcadia left with Mobi.

Alone together, the Grand Duke straightened his posture. Only then did I realize just how tall he truly was.

If we stood face to face, my gaze would probably reach only his chest…

As that thought crossed my mind, my cheeks flushed for no reason.

‘What’s wrong with me?’

I bowed my head and stood beside the table—I was here to serve, after all.

I heard the soft sound of the Grand Duke sitting down. After a pause, he asked,

“Have you eaten?”

“No—yes.”

It was true I hadn’t eaten, so I said so—but immediately worried he might feel uncomfortable, and ‘yes’ slipped out before I knew it.

“Hm?”

“Ah… not yet. I’ll eat after finishing my duties.”

“Then… would you care to join me?”

“Yes—what?”

Surprised, I looked up at him. The Grand Duke spoke calmly and plainly, as always.

“I’d feel awkward eating alone, so let’s share.”

“Oh, no! How dare I—”

“Is there an empty plate?”

“Huh?”

“I don’t eat as much as Mobi thinks. He’s always fretting that I don’t eat enough.”

The Grand Duke smiled faintly—a genuine smile.

‘I’ve hardly ever seen him smile. So this is what his smile looks like.’

It felt like a crisp winter breeze had blown through, carrying something distant closer.

The Grand Duke looked at me.

“There’s plenty here for dinner. Let’s share. Hand me an empty plate, and I’ll serve you some.”

“No, really—”

“…That’s disappointing.”

“Huh?”

“If you’re not trying to make me overeat and get indigestion, then eat with me.”

“I’m not! Truly, it’s fine. I’ll wait until you’ve finished to take the dishes. Oh—and if you have laundry, I should take that too.”

As I rambled on, my stomach suddenly let out a loud gurgle.

I flushed bright red instantly. It was mortifying.

Truthfully, meals in the Grand Duke of the South’s household had always been nothing more than a few dry bread crusts for me.

The food before me looked genuinely delicious.

After struggling through unfamiliar kitchen work and serving, I was undeniably hungry.

But I couldn’t just sit down at the same table.

I declined once more—then the Grand Duke spoke.

“I don’t know what food was like in Lahert’s dungeons, but this is surely better.”

The Grand Duke took an empty plate himself and began ladling hot vegetable soup onto it.

“Let me do that!”

Flustered, I stepped toward him—but tripped over the table leg and lost my balance.

My face neared the table.

An unthinkable mistake for a Sword Master—surely from being too flustered in front of the Grand Duke again.

Even as I fell, I twisted my body to avoid the soup—only to tumble toward the Grand Duke instead. I twisted again—instinctive reflexes only an assassin could muster—preferring to fall into the soup rather than onto him.

But the Grand Duke dropped the soup bowl and caught me midair.

The floating soup splashed onto him. When I came to my senses, I was lying against his chest.

I frantically wiped the vegetable soup soaking his tunic with my hands—until his large hand stopped mine. My hand was now held firmly in his.

“Is this a new assassination technique?”