CDMGS 30🌻

Chapter 30

“You didn’t ask for that, did you?”

…How did he know?

“Yes. The shopkeeper gave it to me, saying the servants here would like it. He seems to know this estate well.”

“……”

“That, um… it’s the flower with teeth, right? It looked terrifying in person.”

I was rambling, only to realize too late that the atmosphere had shifted.

Ah.

The Duke’s gaze was still fixed on the pouch, sharp enough to tear it apart on sight.

Carefully, I placed the pouch back on the tray. Then, to keep it out of his view, I subtly slid the tray aside.

At last, he set down the papers in his hand. His expression looked somewhat calmer.

“At first glance, it looks gentle.”

Huh? The… flower?

That thing nearly ate me alive!

I rolled my eyes in disbelief.

“It pretends to be kind, but it isn’t.”

Pretends? It tried to devour me the moment I saw it!

Did he really trust those tea leaves that much? Strange—he had looked murderous just moments ago.

But no, I was the one who nearly died. If the shopkeeper hadn’t helped, I’d have been swallowed whole.

I braced myself, ready to wave my hands in protest if he praised that flower any further.

“No wonder. He keeps writing about you in his letters.”

…Wait. That doesn’t sound like the flower.

I repeated his words in my head. They were all things one might say about a person, not a plant.

A flower couldn’t possibly send him letters.

Ah. Could it be…

He was talking about the shopkeeper?

Yes—he had to be.

Gods, what a ridiculous misunderstanding I’d gotten myself into. Of course the Duke would know the flower’s true nature.

I turned my head away, suddenly embarrassed, as if he might somehow read my thoughts. My face felt hot. Definitely because I’d mentally turned an innocent man into a man-eating flower.

I fanned my flushed cheeks with my hand.

But the heat didn’t fade. Instead, it flared hotter, searing through my whole body.

Fwoosh—

…Fwoosh?

I snapped my head up at the ominous sound.

Before my eyes, fire erupted.

What the—?!

The blaze licked the air, heat rushing to consume me. I curled inward, clutching my shoulders.

The Duke’s red eyes reflected the flames, making him look half-mad, like a predator in the firelight.

It was the documents he had been holding—those were what burned.

Right… I heard him snap his fingers earlier.

So that had been magic? I’d dismissed it as nothing, but no—the sound was real, and so was the spell.

If it were an accident, the tablecloth would be on fire too. But no—it was untouched. Only the papers turned to ash.

Crackle. Pop.

The documents shriveled, collapsed, and vanished in seconds. The Duke’s face relaxed, almost satisfied.

And he wasn’t done yet.

He extended one long, elegant finger toward the tray.

“Throw that away.”

His fingertip pointed to the pouch I had tried to hide.

…When had it moved back there? I’d pushed it away on purpose!

“Don’t accept anything that man gives you. Only go to his shop if you truly want something—and then, buy only what you need.”

So it really was about the shopkeeper.

And… this was the longest I’d ever heard him speak in one breath.

“Yes, understood…”

I answered softly, sneaking a glance at his face. He almost seemed pleased with my obedient reply.

So they really do know each other.

I didn’t mean to belittle the shopkeeper, but… a duke and a mere tradesman? And exchanging letters? That wasn’t casual acquaintance.

Even if lately, it sounded one-sided.

Still, by his tone, he’d received a letter not long ago.

Honestly, I thought he had no friends at all.

A rude thought—but it stayed locked in my heart.

Or perhaps they’d quarreled, and only one side kept reaching out.

Wait…!

I replayed his words in my mind, and suddenly, a shocking realization struck me. My hand flew to my mouth.

The one who shared tea with him… was that man?

The puzzle pieces clicked together.

The shopkeeper had asked if I’d come on the Duke’s behalf. He’d spoken in a language I couldn’t understand. He even knew the Duke’s favorite tea.

The Duke might tell me to throw the leaves away, but clearly, he liked them.

He only pretends otherwise, because I figured it out!

He couldn’t admit it—not even to himself. To like the same tea he once shared with a close friend? That would mean admitting he still cared.

But when he’d mentioned those teatimes, hadn’t his expression looked wistful?

That’s why I had prepared tea in the first place.

I sighed softly, my mouth still covered.

The Duke doesn’t even know himself.

Deep down, he wanted reconciliation.

Something must have happened—some misunderstanding that broke them apart. And now, even if the shopkeeper tried to explain, the Duke would refuse to listen.

I swallowed hard, glancing at the pouch of tea he had ordered destroyed. My eyes stung.

I had a new mission.

I’ll bring the two of them back together.

If I wanted to free him from his pain, he first needed his lost friend.

“Would you both have a moment to spare?”

After dinner, I called for Eki and Myron. There was no other time to gather them without interrupting their work.

This was their free time, though—I worried I might be intruding.

But my fears proved needless.

“Of course, Sha— I mean, Head Maid!”

Eki answered brightly, steak sauce still smudged at the corner of his lips.

“Oh! Then let me tidy up first. I’ll be right back, please don’t start without me…!”

Myron repeated the plea several times before hurrying off, eyes darting nervously.

Oddly, both his massive hands clutched gleaming kitchen knives.

“……”

I watched the burly man trot off, blades in hand, and muttered under my breath:

“Why is he carrying knives even in the dining hall?”

The food was already cooked. Did he plan to carve something mid-stride?

Eki, overhearing, replied matter-of-factly:

“Oh, the head chef says he gets anxious if he doesn’t have knives in his hands.”

“…I see.”

An attachment issue, then. Best not to dwell.

I wiped the sauce from Eki’s lips, waiting for Myron to return.

Soon, he came trotting back and sat opposite me, placing his two knives squarely on the table.

One was a cleaver so enormous it belonged in a Chinese kitchen. I swore not to look at it.

Instead, I faced the two of them—their eyes shining, hands clasped, waiting for me to speak.

Like baby birds, beaks wide open for a morsel from their mother. The intensity was… unnerving.

I scratched my wrist, searching for words.

“It’s nothing serious. I just wanted to ask you something.”

At once, Eki leaned closer, eyes sparkling even brighter.

“Is it about what happened when you went outside?”

“…How did you know?”

Thump! Eki grabbed my hand, clutching it tightly. His eyes filled with worry, his grip almost desperate.

“Did those men at the back gate bother you? Did they say anything strange…?”

These days, Eki’s language was growing rather rough.

Confidence suited him, but… hearing such words from such a sweet face only made my heart ache a little.