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Chapter 28
Watching him, the woman let out a soft chuckle.
It seemed as though the corners of her eyes crinkled behind the round tinted glasses.
“See? It’s good, isn’t it?”
“What… exactly is this?”
Even in the southern continent, where coffee culture was well developed, it was something he had never encountered before.
Teion asked with undisguised enthusiasm.
“This is truly creative! Did you invent it yourself? Astonishing!”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I invented it exactly…”
As the woman trailed off ambiguously, Teion pressed again.
“Then what is the name of this dessert?”
“Hmm… let’s see.”
After a brief hesitation, she answered awkwardly,
“How about calling it affogato?”
“Affogato… In a foreign tongue, it means ‘to be drowned.’ Interesting.”
As Teion rolled the name over on his tongue, the woman scooped up her portion and popped it into her mouth.
“Coffee is bitter, ice cream is sweet… and I eat them together in one bite.”
She spoke casually, swinging her legs.
“Maybe life is like that too—putting something sweet and something bitter together in one mouthful…”
Teion looked at her, seized by a strange feeling.
The playful air she had carried was gone; now she looked like someone who had lived life twice over, her expression mature and composed.
Which was her true face?
…Probably both.
Just like this affogato—both sweet and bitter.
“Oh! Look at the time…!”
Noticing the clock, the woman cried out in alarm and sprang to her feet.
“Thanks for the coffee! Whenever I come here, something good always happens!”
Teion hurriedly stood as well.
Then, with proper courtesy, he asked,
“May I… know your name?”
“Uh… no?”
“…….”
The answer was completely beyond his expectations.
For a moment, Teion was left speechless.
Then the woman asked him in return,
“And you? What’s your name?”
“……”
Teion, about to answer, only parted his lips slightly.
For some reason, the words wouldn’t come.
Teion Roderick.
In the Empire, that name carried far too much weight.
If she learns who I really am, she won’t treat me so casually anymore.
The thought left him with an inexplicable sense of regret.
He had never met anyone who behaved so freely around him, a grand duke.
Seeing him at a loss for words, the woman chuckled lightly.
“Maybe we’re just not meant to be connected right now, huh?”
“Connected…”
“Well then, I’ll be on my way! When life turns bitter again, try eating something sweet!”
Still cheerful to the end, she called out and quickly disappeared beyond the door.
Left alone, Teion absentmindedly brushed his mouth with his large hand.
It felt as though he had been enchanted by a fairy’s magic.
Whew. That was close.
Leaving the building in the alley, I let out a sigh of relief.
The coffee the mysterious man had offered was undeniably delicious.
At this point in time, there was only one person in the Empire capable of brewing coffee that good: Empress Consort Carlota.
Which meant that black-haired man was definitely connected to her.
A low-ranking employee, at that—low enough to be stuck with the universally avoided weekend shift.
“Working for the Empress Consort… such a shame. He was pretty handsome, too.”
And kind, on top of that.
He had even willingly given me some beans and brewing tools.
“Being handsome and kind—honestly, not just anyone can pull that off…”
Still, thanks to him, I’d be able to brew warm coffee for Lady Vanetta.
With a satisfied smile, I examined the spoils in my hands.
The ridiculous disguise—one that could easily get me mistaken for a pervert—had been worth it.
Drip, drip.
The gloomy sky, which had hung overhead all day, finally began to let fall a few drops of rain.
“Yikes, I’d better hurry.”
Pushing up the oversized tinted glasses that kept slipping down my nose with my middle finger, I headed for the Earl of Airington’s estate.
Shhhhhhh—
An untimely downpour came crashing down.
Vanetta Airington did not like weather like this, when rain fell steadily.
It wasn’t because her knees and joints ached, as one might expect at her age.
Staring silently out the window, Vanetta murmured very softly,
“It rained like this that day, too…”
“Grandmother, you don’t understand!”
The first time the child had ever raised her voice at her.
The child who had always smiled so brightly at her, crying and shouting like that—also for the first time.
“I did everything for you…!”
“Then please, allow our love!”
“Come to your senses, Lily!”
Even as the child cried, she had shouted back mercilessly to the very end.
If she would not bear the weight of all the wealth and privilege she had enjoyed so far,
then she should give up everything she possessed.
Her young granddaughter, eyes brimming with tears and shock, ran out of the room.
She thought the child would come back.
The next day, as always, she would fiddle shyly with the rosary around her neck and come to apologize.
And then she would apologize too.
For having said such cruel things.
She would tell her that she still remembered the moment she was born—
the moment that tiny bundle, wrapped in swaddling cloth, had gripped her index finger with all its strength.
Perhaps that was why she had treated her grown granddaughter like a baby.
And I’ll tell her that I love her.
As she made that vow, the one who approached her was not her granddaughter, but a pale-faced butler.
“Last night, the young lady encountered a band of thieves while crossing the mountains near the border… I am so sorry, my lady.”
They say when a child dies, a parent builds a grave in their heart.
Having lived a long, seemingly useless life, she had lost two children and one granddaughter before her time.
In her small chest, three graves that would never disappear had taken root.
“Why am I the only one left alive…”
This old life, stubbornly clinging on…
Shhhhhhh—
The relentless rain continued to fall,
beating mercilessly onto the blue hydrangeas her granddaughter had loved.
That was when it happened.
Beyond the garden, now churned into mud, someone was approaching her.
“No, Viscountess… that appearance—”
Clutching the hem of a mud-splattered dress, it was Aileen.
Her silver-white hair hung limp, soaked through by the rain.
Instead of an umbrella, she was holding something carefully to her chest.
Thud.
At the sight of her—clearly here to say something—Vanetta’s heart jolted violently, as if it had dropped to the floor.
She hated it when someone brought unexpected news on a rainy day.
No—she loathed it.
“You postponed our appointment until evening, and this is the disrespectful state you arrive in?”
A sharp retort slipped out before she could stop herself.
But Aileen, standing in the rain, simply extended her hand calmly.
“I wanted to give you this.”
Vanetta recognized the small rosary atop her palm at once.
“This is…”
It was the rosary Lily had always worn in life.
The one Vanetta had searched everywhere for, desperate to recover at least that much.
“…Someone gave it to me after seeing me come and go from your estate lately,” Aileen continued, but her words no longer reached Vanetta’s ears.
How it had been found no longer mattered.
At this moment, such details were insignificant.
Covering her mouth with a trembling hand, Vanetta murmured,
“I don’t know… if I have the right to accept this…”
“……”
“That day, I said such cruel things to the child. I should have told her I loved her instead…”
As she muttered in a daze, Aileen simply watched her quietly.
“She might resent me. That rosary was a gift from me, you see—and it was the only thing that disappeared.”
At last, Vanetta revealed the truth she had buried deep in her heart.
“Perhaps she threw even that away when she left, because of how much I—”
“That’s not true.”
With those words, Aileen carefully took out a white handkerchief from her bosom.
[V.A.]
At the sight of the clearly embroidered initials, Vanetta went completely blank.
“They say the young lady kept it together with the rosary, cherished and close to her heart.”
“Lily… did…?”
Vanetta Airington.
Even as she fled, what her granddaughter had taken with her—along with the rosary—was a handkerchief embroidered with her grandmother’s initials.
Vanetta collapsed to the ground, her legs giving way as she broke down where she stood.
