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Chapter : 09
An Unexpected Dinner
“W-what are you doing right now—”
“Can’t you tell just by looking? I’m preparing a meal.”
Alperil felt dizzy, unsure where to even begin picking this apart. She glanced around, realizing that her excessive anxiety had conjured an illusion, and let out a small sigh of relief.
Then she met the young master’s piercing gaze, which seemed to say, ‘You’re the one—what do you think you’re doing?’ She wavered for a moment before opening her mouth. But it was Terencio whose tongue moved first.
“I think you’ve slept in long enough. Why don’t you sit down now?”
“Pardon?”
Alperil echoed the words and turned around, unsure whether he was really speaking to her.
The cold corridor behind her was, of course, empty. Only a few dry coughs escaped her as the chill air seeped in from the vacant space. Sniffling slightly, Alperil glanced back at him, gauging his mood.
Terencio, who had been quietly watching her, gestured for her to move aside.
The grand dining hall of Santcaleum was originally located several minutes away from the main building. Where they now stood was a makeshift kitchen built for the servants, narrow enough to feel cramped even for just the two of them.
So Alperil hurriedly stepped aside as instructed. Terencio, who had been standing at the stove, passed by her and headed toward the door. From behind her came the click of it closing shut.
While he was gone, she walked through the thinning smoke and peered into the pot.
What she found inside was, surprisingly, not bad at all.
The outside of the pot was pitch-black from poor heat control, but the stew inside was thick and rich, as though it had been simmered for a long time. Beneath the burnt smell lingered a savory aroma that slowly rose into the air.
Large chunks of mushrooms floated on the surface, making it look quite appetizing. Had he really cooked this all by himself? Alperil’s eyes widened, making no attempt to hide her astonishment.
As she stirred the contents with a large wooden ladle, she sensed a gaze on the back of her head and looked up. Terencio had already returned and was leaning against the doorway, which his broad shoulders nearly filled, watching her.
In the strange twilight atmosphere, a clear sense of arrogance clung to him.
The impression reminded her instantly of how impossible this situation truly was, and she hesitated. How could she forget? He was someone who was never meant to be here.
“You must be very hungry. I’m sorry. I was lazy and made you come all the way to a place like this, young master…”
“Stop talking nonsense and eat. This is my house, and you only set foot here for the first time not long ago.”
“E-eat?”
His words were as confusing as his attitude. At her question, his ash-gray eyes blinked.
“I told you, didn’t I? Two years ago I drove out most of the servants staying in Santcaleum. Did you think I survived by digging up tree roots on the hill?”
Alperil raised an eyebrow. It was certainly surprising for a nobleman to come and go in a kitchen, but given that he was a bastard son, it wasn’t entirely unbelievable.
Still, offering food to a serf like her was a completely different matter.
She wondered if he had taken up a bottle again since last night. Blinking helplessly, Alperil watched his face for clues. The long silence was finally broken by a deep sigh from the man.
Slow footsteps headed toward the door.
For some reason, the large shadow that stepped outside did not return for quite a while. Only then did Alperil, half coming to her senses, hastily extinguish the fire so the stew wouldn’t burn any further.
“One drop, three times a day. Not that hard, right?”
At that moment, the voice of Duke Leopold echoed from the depths of her memory.
The unpleasant recollection surfaced without warning, and Alperil rubbed her forehead, hesitating. Come to think of it, since arriving at the manor, she hadn’t once done what he had instructed her to do.
She glanced once at the doorway Terencio had left through and recalled the strange atmosphere of the day. Perhaps this was a chance to confirm the true nature of that suspicious medicine.
Watching the young master’s reaction firsthand as they ate together—could there be a better opportunity? Alperil dropped a few drops of the medicine into the pot as the bubbles slowly subsided.
As she carefully ladled the thick stew into silver dishware, she sensed someone returning. Noticing her slender wrist tremble slightly under the weight of the heavy pot, Terencio closed the distance between them in a single stride.
“I’ll finish up.”
“No, no. Please—ah… thank you.”
No matter how hard she frowned and protested, it was useless. Terencio snatched the worn handle at once and transferred almost all of the stew into a single bowl.
Up until the bowl, piled high with food, was pushed toward her, Alperil hadn’t questioned anything.
Still flustered, she watched as Terencio took his seat first. Doubting the truth of what she’d heard, she hesitated several times.
“Sit down already.”
Unable to bear it any longer, he kicked out the chair across from him with his leg, offering it to her. Alperil’s face grew faintly pale—she who had spent her life serving high-nosed nobles—but she soon pulled the chair closer and sat.
It wasn’t the grand hall table in the dining room, but a simple wooden table. Sitting on a small, shabby chair meant for commoners, Alperil finally found herself facing him as they prepared to eat, and asked one last time.
“Y-young master… isn’t this far too much consideration for someone like me?”
“If it makes you uncomfortable, think of it as an apology and eat. I ruined your cooking back then, didn’t I?”
Terencio twirled the spoon in the air a few times before gripping it. Alperil froze, unable to even notice the motion.
An apology? For what? Seeing her bewildered expression, the man lowered his hand and continued.
“I was the one who knocked over the candlestick and pushed you then. And yesterday…”
He broke off abruptly, as if suppressing a sudden surge of emotion. Anger filled his eyes as he looked at Alperil’s thin shoulders, trembling intermittently.
“Don’t ever do something that dangerous again. If you wanted to go outside, you could’ve called me and gone together.”
Alperil was so shocked by the meaning behind his words that she couldn’t do anything for a long while. She wondered if he was mocking her, yet felt utterly confused. Terencio sighed and muttered,
“If you have questions, ask them instead of hesitating.”
“Then… why were you so angry back then?”
The unfiltered voice of her heart slipped out.
The calmest gaze she had ever seen rested on her. Faced with an expression that seemed to justify all the silence in the world, Alperil couldn’t even think to ask again and hurriedly averted her eyes. Terencio smoothly changed the subject.
“There are plenty of rooms. Use whichever one is comfortable. You don’t need to dirty your hands with cleaning the manor or anything pointless. Just avoid going upstairs when you hear me playing.”
“It’ll be the full moon soon—so that bastard will come by,” he added cryptically.
Alperil lifted her head to look at him. Even seated, the man was a full head taller than her.
“I understand. But please allow me, at least, to prepare your meals.”
A brief silence followed. Despite leaving the windows wide open—and even opening and closing the doors several times—the burnt smell lingering in the room refused to fade.
The young master responded with silence, stirring the soup as steam rose from it. Before a man who looked as though he had no appetite at all, Alperil shrank back unconsciously.
Unable to relax her nerves because of what she had done, she watched as Terencio lifted his spoon a second time without comment. Alperil shifted her legs slightly, planning to begin eating when the timing felt right.
Only after the clinking sounds continued a bit longer did she finally grip the silver spoon between her fingers. With a small movement of her wrist, a gentle flavor wrapped around her mouth, long accustomed to hunger.
There was no bitterness at all—the mushroom-filled stew was warmer than any food she had ever tasted. Surprised by how unexpectedly good it was, she kept glancing back and forth between her plate and the man.
Then—
“Ugh.”
A short groan escaped Terencio’s lips.
The silver utensil clanged sharply against the bowl. As Alperil reflexively kicked back her chair and stood, he staggered, covering his mouth with a shaking hand.
Her face turned deathly pale. As if she had fallen into a bottomless pit, she swayed several times even while standing still. A chill seemed to creep up from her toes.
The man, his complexion wan and twisted, glared at her as his shoulders shook unevenly.
“Wait. You…”
