Sometimes when you were out tending to the livestock you had to be aware of “landmines”. What that was, especially with cows, wasn’t hard to imagine. When you weren’t paying any attention to where you were stepping you could find a way to really ruin your day. For some reason, which surprised Roman, he was getting the feeling that he had actually stepped into some shit. Upon revealing to Eritheia Silva that he was not, in fact, from a butchers family and was instead from a, well, nobody commoner family it prompted faint disgust to form on her features. What happened next would cause a mixture of emotions to well up inside of the man.

He was more than able to pass off the comments about how he smelled like ham. It was certainly… odd but he could explain it away as his hands carrying the scent of his meals and the Silva having an oddly acute sense of smell. But what came next was nothing more than a barrage of honey worded sarcasm and insults. He blinked when she claimed that he was sad. He looked at the beautifully faced woman spew venom like a viper at him. From behind his mask he felt his lips and teeth separate from one another even so slightly, as he simply watched her talk with mouth ever so agape, as he wet his lips with his tongue in silence. He wanted to correct her that his homestead had cows and horses, chickens as well, but not hogs and that they were primarily produce growers but none of that mattered. Pigs or not didn’t matter.

He felt insulted. Frustration started welling up in his gut like a solid mass that was ever expanding inside him. He started to breath heavier, though not to a noticeable amount, as he was able to keep himself relatively calm. He had to remember that she had been drinking. That this was the normal way of things. He was a commoner. She was a noble. This was just how things were. So why did he feel so insulted? Yeah, life was hard sometimes. The winters could be rough. Magic didn’t solve every problem. Sometimes there was the worry of not having anything to eat. Roman could recall many times where he and his father would venture out into snow painted, Mana Beast filled, forests in search of any kind of game to feed everyone. Or sometimes when the crops had issues. Or the animals got sick. Life was hard sometimes. Harder than it was for nobles like this woman who got to live comfortably off the hardworks of everyone beneath her.

”It was a good life.” Roman interjected suddenly when she said the phrase “what a life”. He blinked, catching himself, and pulling himself back into his shell. He realized rather quickly why he was getting angry. It wasn’t just him she was insulting. He could deal with that. But it was his entire family she was insulting in extension. He could handle the venom being thrown at him. But he didn’t appreciate such toxicity being thrown at the others. He wondered if his father dealt with this. Did he have to go through this as a Magic Knight? At least before he lost his leg. He really was thankful for the mask. He felt his forehead had tightly furrowed together. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek. ”Ah yes, flowers, thank you. I appreciate your concern and your looking out for me. I’ll take your advice.” the man replied, forcing a smile behind his mask. Was this really what he was going to have to deal with?

”Of course. A commoner's magic pales in comparison to a nobles..” Roman replied before Eritheia did something that… caused a reaction. Roman suddenly felt a hand on his head. A hand that was patting him like a dog. Something needed to be explained now. Roman did not get angry. He was patient. Calm. He practically raised three younger siblings who, on multiple occasions, did or said things that would get people mad. But Roman didn’t. He had grown up young. He had basically become a second father for his siblings. He didn’t raise his voice unless he actually needed to speak over someone being loud. But when that woman patted him on the head Roman actually got mad. He felt his jaws tightening from the pressure of pressing against one another. His other hand, hidden from view and resting on his lap because of how he was sitting, was squeezing so tightly that the knuckles were white. Why did this make him so mad? He didn’t understand it himself. ”My magic isn’t that special. It’s just rare. Handy. Useful. It’s just a rarer form of an already common magic type.” he explained.

Shizuyoru must have sensed something was going on, or she herself wasn’t a fan of how Eritheia was talking to Roman, because she decided to say something as well. But honestly she wished she hadn’t. Don’t make things worse… please. Roman thought to himself as he looked at Shizuyoru as she spoke. He understood she was trying to defend him but he had a feeling that it was only going to worsen the drinking nobles mood. He could already practically predict that Shizuyoru, trying to be kind, making the assumption that he could rise to a higher position than Eritheia was not going to go over well. Why did he butt into their conversation earlier? He blinked, though, when the woman poured two glasses of wine and held them out to the two of them. ”I, uhm..” he stuttered as he took the glass and looked down at the wine. He didn’t foresee a rivalry between the two of them but he was curious about what Shizuyoru had in mind. ”A drinking competition?” Roman asked curiously.