Elena's territory

I want to eat meat

"I want to eat meat." I lay on the recliner, holding a water cup, looking utterly hopeless.

The butler came forward, covered me with an animal skin blanket, and said seriously, "The merchants haven't arrived yet."

I said in despair, "Even if they come, they'll only bring rotten meat."

Merchants buy meat from farms and then sell it to the various noble estates. Whether or not we get fresh meat depends on the distance from the farm to the estate. Unfortunately, my estate is quite far from the farms. Three days ago, I ate some meat cooked by the chef and ended up with diarrhea for two days, but I still crave meat.

I used to only eat lean meat, avoiding any fat. But now, I just want to eat fatty meat—I feel like there's no oil in my belly. If I could get some fresh meat, I'd drink up all the broth. Rotten meat is terrible, even when the chef adds lots of spices. After adding spices, the rotten and aromatic smells mix together. If I weren't starving for meat, I wouldn't touch it at all—not even a bit.

Salt is expensive here, so no one uses it to preserve meat. Smoking and drying the meat reduce its weight, so people would rather let it spoil. I really don't get it. Sure, it's less meat, but do they really think it's edible when it's that rotten?

The butler said, "If you want fresh meat, you'll have to go hunting."

My eyes lit up. "Great idea!"

The hunting tools are bows and arrows, though the arrowheads are rusty. But after sharpening, they can still be used. The bows and arrows are reused—after each use, they must be retrieved. My estate is not exactly wealthy.

Of course, slaves can't go hunting—they're too busy chopping wood, making charcoal, and building storage sheds with their construction skills. So the hunting party would consist of me, the butler, two knights, and Alistair.

"Do you know how to use a bow?" I asked Alistair. "Surely you know how to use a bow, right?"

Alistair frowned slightly.

I asked, "You don't?"

"Then what do you use to hunt?" I inquired.

Alistair pulled out a dagger. The dagger was entirely black, without any other colors.

"What material is this made from?" I reached out to take it, but Alistair pulled it back.

Feeling a bit awkward, I realized I hadn't asked Alistair's permission.

Alistair suddenly said, "You can't lift this dagger. It was passed down from my elders, and I don't even know what material it's made of."

I found it hard to believe. Though I'm not particularly strong, I'm still in my prime—how could I not be able to lift a dagger?

Seeing my determination, Alistair placed the dagger on the table, allowing me to try for myself.

I reached out.

"It's a bit heavy," I remarked to Alistair.

Alistair smiled, raising an eyebrow.

I took a deep breath, rubbed my palms, and tried again.

My face turned red, but I couldn't lift the dagger more than a centimeter.

Thankfully, I didn't persist. I let go, saying, "Show me how you lift it."

Alistair effortlessly picked up the dagger and even spun it in his hand. My eyes lit up, and I quickly stepped forward, eager to get a closer look.

Looking wasn't enough—I had to touch. I placed my hands on Alistair's arm, feeling the muscles. Alistair's muscles were firm, making him appear lean, but in reality, he was incredibly strong.