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Chapter 9
And so, I ended up having a second breakfast with this crooked-tempered man.
Well, time-wise it was somewhere between breakfast and lunch—closer to brunch—but calling it “brunch” felt almost embarrassing when the table was so overloaded with food it looked ready to collapse under the weight.
Meat, meat, meat, meat.
Of course, for someone like me who absolutely adored meat, it was heaven.
While eating the second main dish—the chef himself had come out to explain that it was veal steak—I cautiously asked,
“Um… do you normally eat like this all the time?”
“If we ate like this every meal, the Glentino family’s chef would flee in the middle of the night.”
So basically, no, they normally didn’t eat like this.
The moment I popped the last piece of steak into my mouth, knock knock, someone rapped on the dining room door. Then the chef, grinning from ear to ear, rolled in another tray.
This was already the third main dish.
With exaggerated flair, the chef lifted the silver dome-shaped lid and proudly announced,
“Duck smoked for twenty hours.”
Gasp—duck! My favorite.
The chef personally set the plates down in front of me and the man before bowing and leaving the dining room.
I whispered,
“He looks very satisfied with his job.”
The man smirked.
“I doubt he’s particularly satisfied with his master. If all this food were meant solely for me, he wouldn’t even have come out to the dining room himself. He’d probably still be grumbling in the kitchen.”
Hearing that reminded me of something I’d been curious about.
“Is today some kind of special occasion? I can tell this meal took more effort than usual.”
“Pardon?”
The man repeated it as though he’d heard something absurd, then casually replied,
“Isn’t today Lady Bartoli’s birthday?”
What?
I nearly sprang out of my seat.
“Ah—you knew?!”
“Is there anyone who doesn’t? This won’t do. Colin!”
No, wouldn’t it be stranger if someone did know?!
At his call, the butler waiting outside the door stepped into the dining room. The man immediately said,
“It seems there are people who don’t know today is Lady Bartoli’s birthday.”
“My goodness. That truly is unacceptable.”
Butler, did you even hear what he said properly?
Owen nodded solemnly.
“Of course. Issue an extra edition throughout the Empire immediately. Headline: ‘Today is the birthday of Sophia ta Bartoli, the most beautiful young lady of House Bartoli.’”
What?!
Despite the utterly ridiculous order from the eldest son, the butler simply bowed as though this were routine.
“Understood, Master. Shall I also contact the Imperial Times?”
“The Imperial Times is too slow. Hm… perhaps I should ask His Majesty the Emperor to declare it a national holiday instead. Last time he told me to ask for anything I desired.”
“Then I shall prepare for that.”
I finally burst into laughter.
Even knowing it was a joke, it felt good. The eldest son of this house and the butler really worked well together. I would have believed they had rehearsed the whole thing in advance.
“Thank you, Young Lord Glentino. I thought this before too, but you’re really a funny person.”
“I am completely serious.”
Even the way he tried to sound dignified made me laugh again.
And more than anything else, what truly brightened my mood was the dessert that followed.
Someone might call it old-fashioned, but my favorite dessert in the world was a crown-shaped gugelhupf cake. Especially when it contained dried figs, raisins, and dried cranberries.
And now, that perfect cake had appeared before me.
“It tastes wonderful.”
I only gave light praise, but honestly, I felt like leaping to my feet, clapping wildly, and giving two enthusiastic thumbs up.
The chocolate marble visible in the slice, the decoration with blueberries and chunks of chocolate on top—this was the best gugelhupf cake I had ever eaten.
I was the only person in my family who liked dried fruit, so we never had desserts like this at home. Sometimes another noble family would send raisin cookies as gifts, and while everyone else recoiled in disgust, I’d quietly gather them up and eat them myself.
The man smiled faintly.
“Our chef makes the best gugelhupf.”
“All the other dishes were amazing too. Every single one was exactly to my taste.”
When I said that sincerely, he raised a hand and lightly covered his mouth. The corners of his lips were clearly curled upward.
He’d been smiling just fine until now, so why was he suddenly acting shy?
After we completely finished the cake, the chef brought out seasonal fruit as the final dessert course.
It was… peaches.
I carefully picked up my fork without making a fuss and quietly watched the man eat first.
Owen ta Glentino—the man I’d assumed was somewhat rough around the edges—actually ate with impeccable aristocratic elegance. With his long fingers, he handled the fork and knife gracefully, cutting the peach into bite-sized pieces and bringing them neatly to his lips.
His hands, his lips, even the movement of his jaw as he chewed the fruit—all of it looked like something the gods had painstakingly crafted.
As he reached for a second piece, his gaze shifted toward me. My fork was still untouched.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
“Ah, I’m allergic to peaches.”
The moment he heard that, his expression completely froze. Then he loudly called for the butler again, and the man waiting just outside rushed in immediately.
“You called, Master?”
“Get rid of all the peaches.”
“What?”
Unlike my startled response, the butler calmly bowed.
“Understood, Master.”
In an instant, every peach disappeared from the table. Then, after thinking for a moment, the man changed his order.
“No, wait. Burn every peach seed in the Empire.”
“Yes, Master. From this moment onward, peaches shall be treated as though they never existed in this world.”
“You understand me well.”
The butler smiled proudly at the compliment and disappeared once more.
“……”
This family really had a strange way of treating guests. They made me feel as though I were someone incredibly special.
But somehow… I didn’t dislike this exaggerated treatment that felt half like a joke.
No—in truth, I liked it.
“Does milady have any other food allergies?”
“Ah, no. I don’t.”
After hesitating, I added,
“And honestly, my peach allergy isn’t even that severe. I just vomit and break out in hives.”
“If it were any worse, you’d be dead.”
The man said it expressionlessly, and at that exact moment another knock sounded. Servants entered carrying different seasonal fruits instead—raspberries, blueberries, grapes, light things easy to snack on.
It had been a very long time since I’d eaten a meal this comfortably, without worrying about anyone else. As soon as the final plate was cleared away, I sincerely thanked him.
“Thank you for the meal.”
“Yes, it certainly seemed you enjoyed it.”
Perhaps noticing—or perhaps not noticing—the look on my face that suggested I wanted to hit him, the man added flatly,
“Though I think you could stand to eat even more.”
More? Had someone ordered him to fatten me up?
My gaze drifted to the corners of his eyes. He looked exhausted, as though he hadn’t slept at all. Owen, the eldest son of House Glentino, had likely spent the entire night handling funeral arrangements.
At that moment, I became painfully aware of my own situation again. This wasn’t the time to be happily stuffing myself with delicious food.
In a calm voice, I answered,
“Young Lord Glentino, as you know… yesterday, I lost my fiancé.”
“Yes, I know. In fact, I was just about to speak with you regarding Lady Bartoli’s former fiancé.”
At some point tea had been placed before us. The perceptive butler had quietly poured a cup for each of us before vanishing again.
I swallowed hard.
“Before that… there’s something I need to tell you first.”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“……”
Before coming here, I’d planned to act shamelessly before Young Lord Glentino. If he demanded compensation, I was going to ask whether he had any proof that his brother’s death was my fault.
But after receiving this much kindness, suddenly that felt unbearably wrong. Even if he came to despise me later, at least for now, I didn’t want to act like a coward.
So half on impulse, I confessed.
“Arnold died because of me.”
“Pardon?”
I lowered my head and fidgeted with my fingers. Explaining that his younger brother had died because of a feud between the daughters of House Bartoli was unimaginably difficult.
Slowly, I began to speak.
“……When people are close and cherish one another, they say they’re ‘inseparable to the point of death,’ right? My younger sister Leoni and I are the opposite. You could say we’re the kind who ‘won’t rest until the other is dead.’ We truly try to kill each other.”
“I… see.”
“And not long ago, Young Lord Glentino saw me in those hills. That assassination attempt against Leoni was ultimately my doing, and Leoni became enraged because of it… so as revenge against me, she killed my fiancé.”
After finally forcing out the words, I silently began counting in my head.
If the man said he didn’t understand and demanded a more detailed explanation, I was prepared to explain everything again.
Not knowing how he would react made me tense.
How much time passed?
By the time I’d counted to around fifty, the man finally spoke.
“To begin with, it seems your conclusion and mine are completely opposite. Arnold’s death is not your fault.”
