Surprisingly, Leslie ran into Braden frequently after that day.
When she walked through the streets for grocery shopping, when she went to see new swords at the blacksmith's, when she helped the store next to her on spring festival days, when she was invited to a big temple event, when she saved her pocket money and went out to buy something delicious…
'What is this? I've never run into him before…'
Leslie had lived for 17 years, and had hardly ever encountered the Little Duke of Wade up close except in the swordsmanship competition.
This was because the radius of her life, which was mainly the inn and the market, was not intertwined with the nobles.
Her life had not changed, so it was clear that Braden's movements had changed.
'Well, now he has won a sword fight. I guess he wants to make his name known to the capital.'
Leslie shrugged it off.
In fact, among many commoners, Braden's actions were highly evaluated.
"But isn't the Little Duke really easy-going? To think he is attending the event where a large number of commoners gather. Discriminatory aristocrats don't show up for this."
"He even goes around here and there for a long time. It means he's not just showing his face."
But Leslie, contrary to public opinion, just looked at Braden and felt bad.
Because every once in a while, Braden always talked to her.
"Are you training hard? You still don't want to join the Knights of Wade?"
Leslie answered politely each time.
"Yes, I'm working hard. Thank you again for your good suggestion. I'll take my time and think about it."
It was not a bad picture for others to see.
The winner of the prestigious aristocracy who generously reached out to the commoner who won second place in the last swordsmanship competition.
But Leslie just didn't like him.
If you explain it to someone, they'd say it was crazy, but every time she encountered Braden, she felt a strange sense of incompatibility in his expression.
He was kind and friendly to everyone, but whenever he made eye contact with her, he would look cold in the moment.
As if he were in a very low mood, as if he were very annoyed by his eye contact with her.
She thought he was really conscious of her… It was just her feeling. Why would that great Little Duke care about just one commoner?'
The difference in position between Leslie and Braden was enormous, to the point where anyone would make fun of her for being over-conscious. Read only at pm tl.
"Why don't you come to Wade's training ground and take a look? Your cheap swords wouldn't compare."
Nevertheless, if Braden, who occasionally encountered her by chance, made a sarcastic comment on her situation by using the scout as a surface, the thought that 'he is really a wretched bastard' came flooding back.
Of course, he knew her location well, and she ended the conversation as efficiently as possible according to her motto, 'If you can't enjoy it, let's avoid it.'
"Thank you for your good suggestion. I'll take my time and think about it."
At some point, she couldn't think of any more polite words, so she would only repeat the same answer.
This was because it was much more productive to think about the dinner menu rather than to waste time on such things.
Four years have passed during such subtle frequent encounters.
In the meantime, Braden had become a handsome young man who was perfectly dressed and showed off his beautiful features.
As the days went by, the Wade family's Little Duke, who grew into a handsome man, was overflowing with favorable reviews.
"With this momentum, won't it be a matter of winning three swordsmanship competitions in a row?"
"But they say he's very humble. He's gentle to everyone."
"I hear he's doing a great job with the Knights."
It wasn't just that.
Although he was recognized as the center of politics at a young age because of his excellent social skills in the aristocracy, everyone liked him because he was kind to the common people.
Unlike the status of other aristocrats, who were falling day by day, the power of Wades' name had only grown stronger.
It was because Braden Wade grew up to be such a perfect and gentlemanly successor despite his young age.
Of course, Leslie didn't think so.
In her consciousness, Braden had always been an 'a wretched bastard'.
A boy with chubby cheeks shorter than her, who pointed a sword at her neck and asked her to come under him as if he were doing her a great favor.
'And a kid who went to my home and huffed because he was rejected once.'
It was an unconscious association that had nothing to do with Braden being so tall that he had a bigger head than her and a sharp jawline because all the plump baby fat had disappeared.
In addition, no matter how good Braden was to others, he consistently set a sharp edge for Leslie throughout the four years.
Of course, the conversation between them came across and said, "Are you training well? I'll meet you again at the final at the next swordsmanship competition." and "Thank you. It's an honor". It was the same conversation every time.
'It sounds like manners to take care of losers to others, but I know the truth.'
He said four years ago, 'Be sure to meet at the finals and lose even more horribly.'
'Only the shell has grown, nothing has changed since that time.'
Braden wasn't the only one who grew up in four years.
Leslie has gained quite a reputation since her runner-up finish in the swordsmanship competition four years ago, and she was recognized as a great swordsman, although she "lost to Braden Wade."
Aside from self-understanding, it was the swordsman's instinct to beat him, so Leslie said to herself, 'I really want to win the finals.'
'That's why I want to shock you more.'
And it was when the registration of applicants for the swordsmanship competition began that year.
Leslie ran into Braden when she went to apply as a contestant.
It was an implicit custom for the nobles to apply in the morning, and for the common people to wait and apply in the afternoon, when Braden appeared at 3 p.m., the wait was in full swing.
He even refused the favor of the official who said it would be convenient for him to apply first, so he was praised around.
"I guess you're here to sign up for your last swordsmanship competition?"
Braden looked down at Leslie and said, and Leslie bowed politely and replied yes.
The age limit was up to 24, and Braden was now 19, so he had one more chance.
"You didn't want to join the Knights of the Wade, you didn't want to be my lieutenant…"
He looked at her and said slowly.
"In the end, you came all the way here, refusing everything. Have you done your best?"
Leslie, who had been quick to end the conversation with a soulless answer every time, answered from the bottom of her heart simply because of her determination as a swordsman ahead of the competition.
"Yes. I lost once four years ago, and it's not so good to be labeled 'second place' for many years."
Her answer was very polite.
"I will continue to do my best to face you in the final. Thank you for your continued interest."
Braden crossed his arms and stared at Leslie with an expression of disapproval for a while.
Of course, she was just waiting for her turn, wondering what to buy at the market on her way home.
This was because no matter what the result was after this sword competition, it was the end of their entanglement.
"…Then I'll make another suggestion."
It was when Leslie decided to buy a baguette sandwich on her way back. Braden's mouth, which had been tightly closed, opened.
"Why don't you get a sword? A good one, equivalent to my sword."
"…What?"
"It's the last match. I want to compete under the same conditions. So that you don't think you lost because of the equipment difference."
In the meantime, it was assumed that "Leslie will lose."
"Oh, well, that's…"
But Leslie couldn't say no at once.
If it was as good as Braden's sword… It might have been a really good thing.
Perhaps Leslie's never had a chance to use such a good sword…
She refused to join the Knights because she didn't want her life to be shaken, and she refused to look around other people's training grounds because she was lazy, but the story was different if it was a sword gift.
Wasn't this something you just have to take with your eyes closed and wipe your mouth?
She had high self-esteem, but she wasn't a noble.
"Well, I guess I need some time to think. As always."
Braden laughed bitterly and sarcastically.
"Actually, I have already ordered a sword that fits your physique. If you want to receive it, come to the Duke of Wade anytime. I ordered it for you, so if you don't receive it, I will throw it away."
"Thank you for always being so interested."
Leslie answered as usual, but, unlike her usual low-pitched voice, she could not hide the signs of her worries dripping down.
"I think… I'll try it."
~*~
Seeing how he spat out words asking if she had come to receive the sword, Braden, who believed in Leslie's absence and poured strong alcohol, seemed to have just returned to that time.
Leslie, who finished the recollection, took a deep breath and looked at him for a moment before opening her mouth quietly.
"Little Duke."
It was as if she had also returned to that time, and her tone was polite and sullen.
In fact, she asked questions that she could not ask because of her status gap at the time, but now she could.
"Why do you hate me so much?"