Chapter 271: Incompatible

"Hmm... fascinating."Inside the slowly rocking carriage.

Outside the same monotonous scenery streamed past.

And in this dull, repetitive space, the only thing that seemed to amuse her—

Alice, dressed neatly in a violet dress, murmured those words.

"What is fascinating?"

I couldn’t understand. Trapped inside this carriage with nothing to do but train, rest, and repeat—what exactly was worth marveling at?

"At the duke’s residence, I could barely drink it without wincing. But inside this carriage, you managed to brew it properly. Have your skills improved already?"

That was unlikely.

And could she really tell the difference?

To me, it tasted the same as always.

"Well... maybe?"

"That answer doesn’t sound like you. Suspicious."

She closed her eyes slightly, as if thinking deeply.

"Still, for a demon, your tea-brewing is... unexpectedly useful."

When she opened her eyes again, a colder glint rested there.

Not directed at me.

But beside me—

At the blonde maid, who pretended to be absorbed in the scenery outside the window.

"W-Why are you picking on me?" Velra muttered stiffly.

"Julies couldn’t have brewed tea this well on his own, could he?"

Alice lifted the teacup and downed the drink in one swallow.

—From freshness, to sweetness, and finally to bitterness. To savor tea properly, one should take their time and enjoy each layer slowly.

Her old philosophy, which she had repeated to me countless times, was completely discarded as she clattered the cup roughly back onto the saucer.

Clink!

The sharp ring filled the cramped carriage.

"Julies," she said coolly, "if you keep handing off your work to the maid, how are you supposed to improve? And more importantly, how would you know if that demon tries to poison me?"

"...My apologies."

I bowed my head immediately.

Who could have predicted she would hit the mark so precisely?

"If you understand, then good. Be more careful next time. I’m not eager to consume anything that demon has touched," Alice said with a faint scowl.

"For someone descended from warriors, you’re awfully stingy," the maid,Velra muttered under her breath. "Try being a little generous."

"Hmph. A maid daring to lecture me. Learn some manners first—then we’ll talk."

Zap!

Their eyes met, and an invisible current crackled between them.

’These two are utterly incompatible.’

The carriage swayed gently, but the tension inside was anything but gentle.

Velra’s fingers twitched, as if resisting the urge to bare her fangs—not literally, but the instinct was written plainly across her face.

Alice, meanwhile, crossed her legs with a practiced elegance, turning her head away as though the very sight of Velra might sour her mood further.

I quietly set aside the teapot.

This again.

Every day since we left the duke’s estate, the routine had become painfully predictable.

Alice provoked.

Velra endured.

I suffered.

"...Julies."

My shoulders stiffened at the sudden call.

"You will brew a fresh pot when we arrive at the next stop," Alice ordered without looking at me. "This time, without any interference."

I nodded politely. "Of course."

Velra scoffed audibly.

"Don’t act like he’s your personal pet," she snapped.

Alice turned slowly, eyes narrowing. "And what are you supposed to be? Because last I checked—"

"Enough," I said before my brain could protest. "Please. Both of you."

Silence.

Two pairs of very unhappy eyes turned toward me at the same time.

Velra’s gaze trembled faintly, a wounded expression flickering for a moment before hardening again.

Alice looked as if I had personally offended her pride as a noblewoman.

"...You’re defending her now?" Alice asked, voice dangerously soft.

"I’m asking that we stop fighting in a space the size of a closet," I replied calmly. "At least until we reach the next town."

Velra exhaled sharply through her nose. "Fine. Not because she asked. Because you did."

Alice made a show of rolling her eyes. "Ridiculous. As if I care enough to argue in the first place."

"You started the argument."

"I did not. She—"

I raised a hand.

Both of them fell quiet.

The carriage rumbled along the road, the clatter of wheels filling the uneasy silence they left behind.

I let out a slow breath.

This was going to be a long trip.

Velra leaned toward me slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"Julies... if she keeps glaring at me like that, I might accidentally burn the carriage."

Alice’s ear twitched. "I heard that."

"Then stop glaring," Velra shot back.

"Make me."

’Longer than I thought,’ I corrected myself inwardly.

The carriage jolted, and both women instinctively grabbed the same support rail—hands brushing for the briefest second.

Then they recoiled in perfect synchronization, recoiling like they’d touched fire.

I pressed a tired hand to my forehead.

Truly... utterly incompatible.

If left alone, they would drag this into an endless argument.

So I stepped in.

Again.

"Speaking of which, it’s been a long time since we last visited the capital!

My memories are hazy—I must’ve been a child when I followed my father there. How about you, Lady Alice?"

Alice’s expression softened, the crease between her brows fading at my deliberately placed change of subject.

"I feel the same. I was always busy training with the sword in the north. Haha... I suppose we’re more similar than I thought."

Just then, the carriage’s rattling eased.

Meaning one thing:

We’d left the rough mountain roads and reached the paved route leading toward the royal capital.

"I wonder how skilled the nobles of the central region are," Alice mused, eyes lighting up. "Truly curious."

"...I can assure you, they won’t meet Lady Alice’s expectations."

Her anticipation glimmered brightly, but...

The center of the kingdom—the city of politics.

A completely different world from the north, where survival demanded that every noble be trained with sword and bow.

Here, swordsmanship was little more than a decorative skill for duels.

Archery, an elegant hobby for weekend hunts.

Recreation.

Not survival.

I felt obligated to warn her before her hopes soared too high.

"Well, high expectations often lead to greater disappointments. Try to keep them moderate."

Outside the window, the scenery slowly shifted from thick forest to open plains.

And then—

A colossal castle came into view.

White marble walls rising high, gleaming beneath the sunlight.

Unlike the practical gray stone of the northern strongholds, built to endure harsh winds and demon raids, the capital’s walls radiated brilliant, almost ostentatious splendor.

A place built to impress, not withstand.