Bart is popular with women.
Blessed with good looks from birth, Bart had been known among his comrades as a womanizer since his mercenary days.
He didn’t even need to pay money to visit a brothel—he could just get friendly with a girl in town and move in with her. That’s how popular he was.
This didn’t change after he secured a stable position as a retainer in the Earlkvist territory. In fact, his popularity skyrocketed with his new status of “serving a noble.”
However, now in his mid-20s, Bart started wanting to settle down, and he began to be troubled by his natural playboy tendencies.
(A marriage partner… How do I even choose one?)
Most of Bart’s experiences with women were one-night stands. With the unstable lifestyle of a mercenary, he had no proper experience in a serious relationship.
Because of this, even though Bart wanted to marry, he had no idea how to find the right person.
Every time he came to Retvik leading a transport convoy, girls working at the stores he frequented or the regulars at the restaurants would flirt with him.
Even now, while in Retvik, he was receiving a sweet invitation from a girl at a general store he often visited: “You’re staying in town tonight, right? Why don’t you come over to my apartment?”
Being invited like this didn’t feel bad as a man. However, when it came to the question of whether he wanted to marry this girl, it was a different story.
(She’s probably just attracted to my looks and status…)
Bart could see the ambition on her face—the desire to “catch a good one.”
Of course, Bart didn’t think that was necessarily a bad thing, but he hoped to marry someone who would love him for who he was, not just for his appearance or position.
Yuri and Mai, Edgar and Anna, Radley and Gina—they were probably all drawn to each other’s inner qualities. Even if their social standing changed or they grew old and their looks faded, they would still love each other.
Bart wanted to find someone like that, but he had no idea how to go about it. With that thought in mind, he gently declined the general store girl’s invitation and left the shop.
…
That night, Bart decided to do something a little different and went into a restaurant he hadn’t been to before, instead of his usual spot.
As soon as he entered, a middle-aged man, presumably the owner, called out to him, “Sit wherever you like!” The only other person working in the small establishment was a young female employee.
Bart took an open seat and glanced at the menu on the wall. As he was deciding what to order, the young woman brought him some water.
“Have you decided on your order?”
“Oh, um… I’ll have the steamed fish, stew, and some bread.”
“Sure, please wait a moment.”
The woman, who was likely a few years younger than Bart, smiled kindly and headed to the kitchen. She might be the owner’s daughter. Though not particularly striking, she had a gentle, warm aura.
For someone like Bart, who was used to women looking at him with hungry eyes, seeing him as a “great catch” because of his looks and status, her warm smile left an impression.
It wasn’t long before his food arrived.
The steamed fish and bread were decent, but when Bart tasted the stew, he was a bit surprised. It reminded him of his childhood.
Bart had been born an orphan in a certain town, relying on soup kitchens to survive until he was picked up by a mercenary group at around ten years old.
The kind nun who had been in charge of those soup kitchens had made a stew just like this. The flavor brought back memories.
It was probably just a coincidence, but for Bart, it was a satisfying meal.
“This stew was amazing. It reminded me of home.”
“Oh, really? Thank you,” the woman replied with a kind smile as she cleared the dishes.
“Is your hometown far from here?”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever go back… I was an orphan to begin with, and a lot has happened since.”
“I see… I’m sorry if I brought up something painful.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m the one who said something strange.”
The nostalgic taste had loosened his tongue a little more than usual. He ended up revealing more than he intended to this unfamiliar girl.
“What part of the stew reminded you of home?”
“Well, let’s see… It was a bit on the sweet side, with a thick consistency. The nun who made it at the church where I grew up would put a lot of lentils in it so we’d feel fuller… Ah, there I go rambling again.”
Feeling embarrassed, Bart gave a sheepish smile, paid for his meal, and quickly left the restaurant.
・・・・・
After some time had passed, Bart visited Retvik again as part of his regular transport duties and once more found himself at the same restaurant.
Though he felt a bit embarrassed, especially after the last conversation he had there, his desire to experience that nostalgic taste again won out.
The same waitress from before seemed to remember Bart. She smiled softly as he entered, and Bart, slightly shy, returned her smile before taking a seat at an open table. Of course, he ordered the stew again.
When the stew arrived, Bart took the first spoonful and immediately noticed something different. Mixed with the vegetables were lentils, which hadn’t been in the stew during his previous visit.
The taste was even closer to the stew he had eaten as a child, almost identical. He could almost picture the kind, gentle face of the nun who had made that stew, more vividly than he had in years.
After finishing his meal, savoring each bite, Bart called out to the waitress as she came to clear the dishes.
“…I noticed you added lentils today.”
“I remembered what you mentioned last time… It’s a little something from me,” she replied with a playful smile.
“Thanks. But why? I’m not exactly a regular here yet, am I?”
“You looked a bit lonely when we talked before. I thought it might make you smile, even just a little,” she said, her smile filled with pure kindness.
Bart glanced at her left hand—there was no ring on her finger.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Uh, no… I don’t,” she replied, caught off guard.
“Then, um… would you marry me? I promise to make you happy,” Bart said, the words escaping before he could stop himself.
・・・・・
“Okay, so your name is Michelle. You come from a restaurant family in Retvik, and you’ve moved here to marry Bart…”
“Yes!” Michelle answered nervously.
At the guard post by the gates of Noeina, Noein was meeting with a new prospective resident.
Behind him, as usual, stood his bodyguards Mathilda and Pence, while Michelle sat across from him, tense. Bart, who had brought her from Retvik, was seated beside her.
“No need to be so nervous, Michelle. Lord Noein is a kind man,” Bart reassured her with a sweet tone, to which Michelle leaned into him, comforted.
Noein, inwardly exasperated by their affectionate behavior, continued the conversation.
“If you’re marrying Bart, you’ll be living with him, so there’s nothing else to check or process. Bart will explain everything about life here to you.”
“Yes, I’ll take care of it,” Bart replied confidently.
“Alright then, that concludes the immigration interview. Congratulations on your marriage, and best of luck to you both,” Noein said, offering his blessings.
After thanking him, Bart and Michelle left the post, still wrapped up in their romantic bubble.
“Damn it, even Bart now…” muttered Pence, the last bachelor among the former mercenaries.
“Apparently, he proposed to her on the spot, and she accepted immediately. Classic Bart, the ladies’ man,” Noein remarked, amused.
One day, Bart returned from Retvik out of the blue, announcing, “I’m bringing my bride back from Retvik next time.”
When they asked for details, Bart explained that after just a few conversations with a waitress at a restaurant, he had suddenly proposed, and she said yes. The fact that their whirlwind marriage was already so harmonious only proved Bart’s natural ability to win over women’s hearts.
“He used to spend his time fooling around with flashy women, never getting tied down. And now he ends up with such a sweet, down-to-earth girl… Life isn’t fair,” Pence grumbled.
“You don’t have to be so jealous, Pence. If you’re really struggling to find a wife, I can help. I’ll put out a call in the territory as your lord. I’m sure we’ll find someone,” Noein offered with a grin.
Pence imagined the horror of Noein publicly announcing, “Looking for a bride for Squire Pence!” It would be a mortifying experience.
“…No, that’s fine. I’ll handle it myself,” Pence quickly declined.
“Alright, good luck. I’ll be waiting to hear some good news,” Noein replied, but Pence could only sigh, thinking about how far away he still was from marriage.
