Chapter 53: I Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat, Eat
[The Primarch's Private Office — Radiance of Macragge]
The great Second— ahem— Second Regent Roboute Guilliman sat behind a desk piled high with parchment scrolls and holographic data panels.
His brow was tightly furrowed as his quill scratched rapidly across document after document, moving so fast it almost seemed to spark.
Although the large-scale front-line war had ended, for the Regent another, far more tedious and agonizing "war" had just begun—
Logistics.
Reconstruction.
Resource allocation.
And dealing with endless pleas for help from planetary governors who excelled only at avoiding responsibility.
"Bang!"
A sharp slap on the desk shattered the oppressive silence that had been filled only by the scratching of the pen.
Guilliman's hand trembled slightly. A drop of ink splattered across the document.
He looked up and sighed.
Eileen stood across from him with her hands on her hips. Her still-childish face clearly said:
"I'm very unhappy right now."
"I quit, Brother Robert!"
Eileen shouted angrily, puffing out her cheeks like a hamster.
"I can't take it anymore! Recently I've either been stuck on that oil-smelling ship watching servitors walk back and forth, or dragged by Sicarius or Uncle Varo to attend something called 'Warband Logistics Management and Supply Line Maintenance' classes!"
She pointed dramatically at the faint dark circles under her eyes.
(In reality they came from staying up too late playing on a data tablet.)
"I'm a child! And I saved so many people! Old Huang said this is… this is… exploitation! Yes—child labor exploitation!"
[That's right. A protest is necessary.]
Old Huang's lazy voice stirred inside her mind.
[Even the donkeys in the production team weren't treated this badly. Since we've already fallen into this cesspool, the least we should get is some paid leave. If this continues, I'm going to rot away.]
Guilliman set down his pen, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed deeply.
"Eileen, this is for your own good. Your identity is special. You must understand how the Imperium operates so that in the future—"
"I don't care! I want a vacation! I want to go out and play!"
Eileen suddenly threw herself onto the expensive leather carpet and began rolling around.
[…Sigh. Kid, I meant throwing a tantrum metaphorically. Not literally rolling on the floor.]
"I want to eat something delicious! I want fresh air! Otherwise—otherwise I'll blow up every light bulb in this room!"
Guilliman stared at the "Holy Vessel" throwing a tantrum on the floor.
His lips twitched uncontrollably.
If the Ecclesiarchy saw this scene, he wondered what kind of headlines they would write.
Still… he had to admit he had indeed pushed the child too hard recently.
Besides, even Mortarion was currently busy with Belisarius Cawl preparing his new body.
There was no urgent need to keep Eileen confined.
"…Alright."
Guilliman finally relented.
He stood up, walked toward the enormous window, and pointed to the beautiful planet below—a world of emerald green and sapphire blue.
"The fleet is currently anchored in the Estut Sector. It's an important trade hub and garden world in the Eastern Fringe that was untouched by the war."
"Coincidentally, the planetary governor is hosting a grand banquet tonight to welcome the expedition fleet. He's already sent twelve invitations."
Guilliman turned toward Eileen.
She had already scrambled to her feet, her eyes sparkling.
"I can take you with me. There will be plenty of food… and a lively atmosphere, if you like."
"Yay! Long live Brother Robert!"
Eileen cheered and tried to hug him.
She only managed to grab his leg.
"Wait!"
She suddenly let go and looked up at him suspiciously.
"I have one more condition."
"What condition?"
"I don't want those big guys—I mean Uncle Cato and Uncle Varo!"
She raised a finger solemnly.
"Every time I go out with them, they're like two giant walls blocking everything. Everyone nearby is too scared to talk. No one dares sell me anything!"
"Everything ends up being free!"
"I feel like a prisoner being escorted around—or some kind of sacred cow!"
"I want freedom! I want to eat and drink like a normal person!"
Guilliman frowned.
"That violates security protocol, Eileen. You are extremely important—"
"But there's no war here! And you're here!"
Eileen interrupted him.
"With the most powerful warrior in the entire galaxy around, who could hurt me?"
She patted the short sword hidden under her coat.
"And if we meet bad guys… who knows who'll be the unlucky one."
Guilliman considered the situation.
Estut was a core world of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar, with extremely high loyalty.
The banquet would be held at the governor's residence, where security should be excellent.
More importantly…
He didn't want Eileen to feel like a prisoner.
"…Very well."
Guilliman nodded helplessly.
"Just the two of us. No guards."
"But you must not leave my sight."
"Deal!"
---
[Estut — Governor's Mansion "Crystal Palace"]
Night had fallen, but the magnificent palace shone as brightly as day.
Anti-gravity candle stands floated through the air.
The palace—constructed from translucent crystal and white marble—radiated extravagant luxury.
Soft music filled the hall along with the scent of expensive perfume and fine wine… and the faint decadence unique to the upper class.
When Guilliman entered the banquet hall with Eileen, the once noisy crowd instantly fell silent.
Guilliman wore ceremonial power armor covered by a deep-blue velvet robe embroidered with the double-headed eagle of Ultramar.
Even so, his three-meter-tall frame made him look like a walking mountain.
The surrounding nobles—dressed in elaborate silk garments, powdered wigs, and heavy makeup—looked like dwarfs beside him.
"That's… the Regent!"
"By the Emperor! Lord Guilliman himself!"
"Quick! Bring the best wine!"
After a moment of stunned silence, the hall erupted.
Governors, nobles, merchants, and ambitious socialites surged forward like sharks smelling blood.
"Your Highness! I am Governor Estuart—welcome!"
"Regent! Our family controls seventy percent of the grain trade in this sector—might we discuss tax adjustments?"
"Oh great Primarch! Your radiance blesses this humble hall!"
Guilliman was instantly surrounded.
He forced on his diplomatic "business smile" and began dealing with the crowd—a situation more exhausting than facing a battlefield.
Meanwhile—
Eileen slipped quietly out from behind him like a slippery eel.
"Phew… that was close."
She hid behind a massive crystal pillar and stuck out her tongue as she watched Guilliman drown in the sea of nobles.
"Poor Robert. Surrounded by all that perfume—it must be torture."
[Ignore him. That's adult socializing.]
Old Huang spoke impatiently.
[Look over there! That long table! Holy crap! Is that a mountain of roasted meat?! And that—IS THAT A CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN?!]
Eileen followed his gaze.
A massive buffet table stretched across one side of the hall.
It was piled with foods she had only seen in dreams.
Roasted animal legs dripping with fat.
Mountains of caviar.
Fruit sculptures carved like artwork.
And desserts so delicate they almost looked too beautiful to eat.
Yet only a few nobles stood nearby, holding wine glasses and chatting politely.
In high society, devouring food in public was considered vulgar.
But in Eileen's eyes—
This was paradise.
"Charge!!"
Eileen cheered quietly and dashed toward the buffet.
She wore her dark blue tactical trench coat—made by Harkus.
Compared to the noble ladies' elaborate dresses, it looked strange.
But it was practical.
And it had many large pockets.
She didn't even grab a plate.
With her left hand she snatched a crispy roasted leg and took a massive bite.
"Mmm! Delicious!"
Hot juice exploded in her mouth.
Her eyes closed in bliss.
Her right hand grabbed a spoon and scooped a mountain of tiramisu into her mouth.
"Glug."
[That one! That red one! Looks like a strawberry!]
"Okay, okay! Don't rush me!"
Eileen looked like a mouse that had fallen into a grain warehouse.
She ate wildly.
In this elegant banquet hall where everyone maintained refined manners—
her greasy mouth and enthusiastic eating made her stand out dramatically.
People quickly noticed.
At first it was just a few young nobles.
"Hey… look over there."
A baron in a purple velvet coat whispered.
"That girl… who is she? Why is she dressed like that?"
"I don't know… maybe the daughter of a Space Marine commander?"
They watched critically.
But something strange happened.
Eileen continued gnawing on a bone, sauce smeared across her lips.
Normally it would appear vulgar.
But to the nobles…
It looked completely different.
"Good heavens…"
The baron who intended to mock her suddenly froze.
"Look at the way she eats… how wild! How free!"
"That unrestrained love for food—it's a rebellion against hypocritical etiquette!"
Another noble covered his mouth in awe.
"And her clothes! That minimalist design!"
"No lace, no jewelry—just practical lines and pockets! This must be the newest fashion trend from Macragge!"
"She even radiates a kind of… holy warmth."
"Watching her eat feels spiritually purifying…"
The strange perception spread through the crowd like a virus.
Soon many nobles gathered nearby, silently watching Eileen devour food like spectators admiring fine art.
"So adorable… I want to give her all the grain in my warehouses…"
Eileen had no idea what was happening.
She only noticed the hall had suddenly become quiet.
Many people were staring at her.
She looked up cautiously, half a lobster still hanging from her mouth.
"What are you staring at? Never seen someone eat before?"
She mumbled, shielding the roast meat in front of her protectively.
In the nobles' eyes—
This only made her even cuter.
---
Meanwhile, on the second-floor balcony…
A young man watched her.
Handsome.
Perfectly styled golden curls.
An expensive suit with a blue rose pinned to his chest.
His name was Lars.
The second son of a planetary governor in the Estut sector.
A notorious playboy.
He looked down at Eileen with curiosity… and greed.
"She's different."
He smiled.
"That wildness… that aura…"
"She's an untamed wild horse."
He turned to his followers.
"Looks like tonight won't be boring."
"I'm going to meet her."
"Sir, the governor told you to behave tonight…"
"What's there to worry about?"
Lars laughed.
"My father is busy with the Regent."
He straightened his collar and flashed a confident smile.
"No woman on this planet can resist Young Master Lars."
"Let's make a bet."
He raised one finger.
"Ten minutes. I'll have her willingly accompany me to the terrace."
"And then…"
"Heh."
The cronies laughed knowingly.
Lars pushed through the crowd toward Eileen.
---
Eileen finished cracking a strange crab.
She scooped out the meat happily.
"Burp—"
Even Old Huang mentally burped.
[Good meal. But the shell was too hard. Next time find a softer one.]
"You're not even eating it yourself and you're still picky," Eileen complained internally.
Just as she lifted the crab meat—
A shadow blocked the light from the chandelier.
A strong perfume mixed with alcohol filled her nose.
Eileen frowned.
She slowly turned her head.
A young man in a flamboyant purple suit stood very close behind her.
Lars posed elegantly.
He bowed slightly.
"Beautiful lady," he said with a magnetic voice,
"How could such coarse food possibly match your star-like brilliance?"
Eileen blinked.
She looked at the crab meat.
Then at him.
She wondered if he was insane.
Food was food.
What did "worthy" mean?
Did the crab judge people by appearance?
Seeing her stunned face, Lars grew even more confident.
He stepped forward and reached for her hand.
"I am Lars."
"The governor's second son."
"And a connoisseur of beauty beneath the stars."
He smiled charmingly.
"It's too noisy here. Would you accompany me to the terrace?"
"We can drink… discuss poetry… and life."
The nobles watched with amusement.
Eileen remained still, still holding the crab meat.
A little cream clung to the corner of her mouth.
Her eyes held no shyness.
No panic.
Only irritation at being interrupted… and the confusion one might feel when seeing a strange animal.
"Huh?"
Eileen said.
"Who… are you?"