Lina entered first, her steps small and hesitant.

Behind her, Healer Mae lifted her simple skirt slightly so it wouldn't snag, then sat down with a neat, proper posture.

"Good morning, Young Master," Mae greeted politely, giving a light bow.

"G–good morning, Young Master," Lina added quickly, bowing as well.

"Morning," Lucas replied curtly.

The carriage door closed.

The wheels began to move again.

A few seconds passed.

Silence.

Awkward silence.

Lucas leaned back slightly, his gaze empty as he stared out the window. There was a clear sense of discomfort—not anger, but something off. Too cramped. Too close. Too… improper.

Geralt noticed it.

And his face went pale at once.

…Oh no.

The Young Master should be riding a proper wagon.

Not a low, common carriage like this.

His hands trembled in his lap.

On the other side, Mae began to think as well.

Why… is the Young Master here?

A public carriage. Narrow. Noisy. No curtains. No attendants.

Why would he ride this?

Lina lowered her head, her hands tightly clasped together on her knees.

Don't speak.

Don't comment.

Don't ask anything.

Lady Silvara isn't here.

One wrong sentence could be dangerous.

The silence grew heavier.

Finally—

Lucas clicked his tongue softly.

"Tch."

All three of them nearly jumped on reflex.

Lucas glanced at them one by one, then let out a small snort. His tone returned to its usual relaxed—almost cocky—casualness.

"So, where are you heading?"

Mae flinched for a split second, then answered quickly, "I-I'm going to buy some tomatoes… and a few herbs, Young Master."

"Oh."

Short. Done.

Mae blinked.

…That's it?

Inside her head, her thoughts immediately spiraled.

Does he want to be asked back?

Or is he waiting to be addressed more respectfully?

Or… is this some kind of etiquette test?

Carefully, Mae asked, "And… where is Young Master heading?"

"Buying baskets," Lucas replied.

"For the tomato harvest later."

Lina was slightly startled.

…So it's true.

He really does plan to call me and Miss Mae to the field for harvesting later.

Hufftt…

For some reason, her chest felt lighter.

The atmosphere loosened a little.

Mae then turned to Geralt. "Oh, right… how is Anya doing now?"

Geralt's face immediately brightened.

"Perfectly healthy! She's much more cheerful now than before."

He bowed deeply.

"Thank you, Miss Mae. Thank you for taking care of my daughter back then."

Mae smiled. "It was my duty. There's no need—"

Yet inside her heart, there was a faint, tight ache.

She remembered that day.

When Geralt had nearly dropped to his knees, begging for free medicine for Anya.

When she refused… because the herbs were almost gone, and she herself had barely anything.

Her smile didn't change, but her eyes dimmed slightly.

Then another thought surfaced.

Mae swallowed, then gave a small bow toward Geralt.

"E-erm… about before," she said softly.

"About… that inappropriate accusation. I… I'm sorry."

Geralt fell silent, clearly shocked.

Lucas watched from the side.

…And yes, he remembered too.

He had been dragged into that accusation as well.

Mae quickly added, glancing at Lucas, her face flushing red.

"I'm truly sorry. It was a misunderstanding. And I swear—"

"That's enough," Lucas cut in flatly.

"No need to talk about it anymore. It's not a problem."

His tone was firm, shutting the topic down completely.

Geralt immediately went into brown-noser mode.

"Y-yes—exactly!" he said quickly.

"It's not a big issue for the great Young Master! Besides, it was all just a misunderstanding and… ehe…"

He grinned a little.

"And my wife's… slightly strange hobby."

Lucas turned his face away, restraining his expression.

Damn, old man.

That's not just 'strange.'

You've got a freaky wife.

The carriage continued on, carrying them ever closer to Voss Town.

---

The carriage finally slowed as the gates of Voss Town came into view.

The wheels let out a soft screech before coming to a complete stop.

Mae stood up first, straightening her skirt.

Lina followed, rising behind her.

"We'll be taking our leave, Young Master," Mae said politely, bowing.

"We'll take our leave," Lina echoed more softly.

"Mm," Lucas replied briefly.

Mae stepped closer to the driver and handed him a few copper coins.

The two of them left, walking away without looking back.

As soon as the carriage door closed again, Geralt bowed deeply.

"I sincerely apologize, Young Master," he said quickly.

"I completely forgot… you should have been riding a proper wagon, not a carriage like this."

"That's enough," Lucas cut in flatly.

"No need to make a big deal out of it."

Lucas then reached into his pocket, took out a gold coin, and handed it to the driver.

"This is the fare."

The driver froze.

"N-no, Young Master—!" he said in panic, shaking his head rapidly.

"I—I'll take my leave!"

He nearly dropped his whip, jumped down from the carriage, and hurried away far too quickly for someone who was supposedly "fine."

Lucas stared at the retreating back.

Tch. Still because of that rotten reputation again.

"Geralt," he said next, "take me to where they sell baskets."

"Yes!" Geralt answered immediately, snapping to attention.

He walked ahead, half a step in front.

They went deeper into Voss Town.

There were far more people than in the village.

Shops lined the streets. The roads were wider. The buildings more tightly packed.

But—

The moment Lucas passed by, the atmosphere changed.

Like the volume suddenly being turned down right as a song hit its best part.

Conversations faded.

Laughter cut off.

Footsteps slowed.

Not complete silence—

but tension.

Far more palpable than in the village.

Lucas could feel it clearly.

"…Hah," he exhaled quietly.

Not long after, they stopped in front of a simple wooden shop. In front of it, baskets of various sizes were neatly stacked.

Geralt gestured. "Here, Young Master."

Lucas looked at the piles, then began to think.

Sixty tomato plants.

Harvested once a week.

High quality.

With his limited agricultural knowledge, he started considering the fate of those healthy tomatoes.

One plant could yield roughly four to five kilograms per harvest.

That meant around 250–300 kilograms in total. One large basket could hold about fifteen kilograms if he didn't want them bruised.

"…Twenty," he muttered.

"No. Twenty-four."

Safer to have extras.

He turned to the seller. "Large baskets. Twenty-four."

The seller flinched, then quickly calculated.

"O-one large basket costs three copper coins, Young Master."

Lucas nodded once.

24 × 3 = 72 copper coins.

Still reasonable.

He took out a gold coin without further comment.

"Deliver them to the manor tomorrow morning," he said.

"To the tomato field."

The seller bowed almost excessively.

"W-with pleasure, Young Master!"

Lucas turned away.

In his mind, a single thought surfaced calmly.

If that field stays safe…

the next harvest will be much bigger.

The seller ran after him, holding a stack of coins.

"Y-Young Master, this is your change!"

Lucas looked at him, then told Geralt to take it. He continued walking back.

"Hmmm… how did the Voss Family even manage to pay off their debts," he muttered,

"if their son's pocket money is this much."

He grasped the pouch of gold coins in his pocket.

Lucas glanced to the side as they walked away from the shop.

"Geralt," he said casually, "do you want to buy something for Anya?"

Geralt flinched.

"N-no, Young Master. There's no need. She's already happy enough now."

"Then let's head back," Lucas replied shortly.

Geralt nodded, then hesitated for a moment.

"If I may… this time, I'll look for a more proper wagon."

"Whatever," Lucas said without looking back.

Geralt immediately stepped ahead.

Lucas followed behind him.

From a distance, a tall, broad-built woman was walking toward them.

She was wearing armor. Not just any armor—the plates were thick, the cuts precise, and the sheen of the metal clean. Its quality was clearly higher than Silvara's. Not excessive, but functional. Built for real combat.

The woman stopped for a moment… then fixed her gaze on Lucas.

And began walking faster.

"Young Master Voss," she called out.

Once.

Lucas turned.

"Young Master Voss."

The second call.

Lucas looked at the woman, but she was taller than him. He had to tilt his head up to see her face, and when he saw her face...

What the—

His eyes widened.

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