QBSLB 27

Chapter 27

Normally, he would have asked, “Who is it?”

But the moment the figure appeared in front of the building, a “What the hell?” nearly slipped out instead. The person’s appearance was simply too bizarre.

Messy brown hair shoved beneath a cap that looked like something a petty thief would wear. Round, tinted sunglasses. A long black coat reaching all the way down to her ankles.

Is she a pervert…?

As Taeyon tensed and clenched his fist—

the pervert… no, the stranger cautiously spoke up.

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting. It’s just that the sign says everyone is welcome.”

Ah.

The building was tucked away in a rather secluded alley.

In case that coffee Cinderella ever came back, he’d put up that message so she could enter freely at any time.

He’d deliberately avoided writing anything about coffee, or about looking for someone.

The new business venture wasn’t ready to be revealed yet.

Once rumors started spreading that the Roderick Commercial Guild was importing coffee, competitors would swarm in with bloodshot eyes.

That would inevitably trigger pointless price wars over coffee beans.

…Thinking about work again.

Even with such a bizarre person standing right in front of him, that was all he could think about.

Honestly.

Taeyon let out a short, incredulous smile.

At the moment, he was in disguise—black hair, an unremarkable face. There was no way she could recognize him as Grand Duke Taeyon Roderick.

The woman hesitated, then stepped inside.

“…And it smells really nice.”

Ah—she must have followed the scent of coffee.

Most people in the Empire wouldn’t be familiar with this smell.

He’d actually been doing market research, curious about how ordinary people would react to coffee.

Interest piqued, Taeyon asked the suspicious figure—who still looked very much like a pervert,

“…Would you like to try a cup?”

* * *

“Mmm… It’s quite nice.”

The strangely dressed woman finished her cup slowly, savoring it.

Taeyon asked about the aroma, whether it was better than black tea, what price might be appropriate for a single cup, and so on.

“Everything’s good, but the flavor’s a bit strong. For people used to tea, it might feel unfamiliar.”

She answered earnestly and thoughtfully, which was unexpected.

What does she even do…?

As that question resurfaced, the woman asked instead,

“You work here, right?”

…Broadly speaking, the owner of a guild could be considered an employee too. It wasn’t exactly a lie.

Taeyon nodded, a little awkwardly.

“Oh. I see. Karl… no—so you’re one of them.”

She looked at him with a faintly sympathetic expression.

Almost… pitying.

“So how is it, working here? Don’t you get threatened with being fired over the smallest mistake or anything?”

“F-fired…? No. I’m fine.”

Taeyon replied, bewildered by the bizarre question.

There was no discernible context.

Judging by her clothes, she didn’t seem like an ordinary person—but perhaps she was mentally unwell.

Believing in the principle that one should be kind to the weak, Taeyon looked at her with quiet compassion.

Thus, burdened by mutual and profound misunderstandings, the two continued talking.

“Working on weekends?!”

The suspicious woman exclaimed indignantly.

“I don’t know who owns this place at all, but they sound like a total tyrant!”

“…That’s not really the case.”

Taeyon averted his gaze.

In the Empire—no, on the entire continent—there was no merchant house run more conscientiously than his.

The only one overworking himself was him.

It was an unfair misunderstanding, but there was no way to clear it up now.

“It’s okay. You can be honest. I can tell just by looking at this place.”

“…What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I’ve worked at lots of cafés—no! I mean, lots of workplaces….”

She lowered her voice conspiratorially and whispered,

“Whoever’s in charge here is definitely a picky, obsessive perfectionist.”

“…What makes you think that?”

“Spotless tables, those dishes lined up with military precision.”

“……”

“Ugh! It’s hard to work for bosses who are too perfect, you know? Don’t you think?”

Me?

Was he really that harsh and unreasonable?

He’d always prided himself on being an ethical businessman and a benevolent superior.

But could that have been a burden to his subordinates instead?

As Taeyon fell into sudden self-reflection, the woman remained perfectly casual.

After glancing around with interest, she said,

“Working on a weekend, and in weather like this. No wonder you looked gloomy.”

At that, Taeyon asked, his expression genuinely unfamiliar,

“…Did I look gloomy?”

“Yes. You were slumped over on the sofa.”

…Taeyon Roderick looked gloomy?

That was something he’d never heard in his life.

So that uneasy, heavy feeling—that was what ‘gloomy’ meant…

He’d been taught economics, etiquette, and swordsmanship—but never emotions.

Feeling oddly refreshed, he murmured,

“You’re the first person who’s ever said that to me.”

“Really? Then you must have a pretty narrow social circle.”

“…It’s not exactly that.”

He spoke slowly.

Why was he saying this to a woman he’d just met?

Was it her bizarre outfit that lowered his guard—or the strange courage that only appears when speaking to someone you’ll never see again?

As the head of the Roderick Guild and a high-ranking noble, he had always lived under the pressure of presenting only perfection.

Or maybe it was her unguarded demeanor—neither noble nor commoner.

“…It’s more that I’m in a position where I shouldn’t say things like that.”

This was the first time in his life he’d ever voiced such vulnerability.

“I believe that since I was born with so much, I should be grateful and work harder.”

Looks, wealth, lineage, ability—he had everything.

He’d never been arrogant, but he was well aware that his life was blessed.

So he resolved to give back as much as he’d received.

That was the reason he worked so relentlessly.

“Come on. Just because you were born with a silver spoon doesn’t mean things aren’t hard.”

The woman in the sunglasses spoke cheerfully.

“We’re all just people, after all.”

“All… people.”

Another thing he was hearing for the first time.

This was an Empire where bloodlines defined one’s worth.

As Taeyon soaked in the unfamiliar sentiment, the suspicious woman lifted her sunglasses with her middle finger.

“When you’re feeling down, something sweet helps.”

“I don’t like sweets.”

“You look like you wouldn’t.”

“……”

Her bluntness left him momentarily speechless.

While he hesitated, she trotted into the kitchen and opened the freezer.

She really was strange.

Her frank, unrestrained manner felt refreshing.

So unlike any noblewoman he’d ever known, Taeyon found himself utterly disarmed.

“Oh, I knew it! There really is nothing this place doesn’t have. The owner here must be totally heartless.”

She called out to the heartless owner,

“Can I use this ice cream—and that thermos of coffee concentrate?”

“…Go ahead.”

It had been a gift from the Empress anyway. He’d planned to throw it out.

Drinking it would only sour his mood.

She scooped a generous serving of ice cream into a glass.

After watching her for a moment, curiosity got the better of him.

“What are you doing?”

“A prescription.”

She replied calmly, pouring strong coffee over the vanilla ice cream.

“Originally, it should be pulled as a shot, but this is strong enough. It’ll still taste good.”

Saying things he didn’t quite understand, she handed him the glass.

“Here.”

He didn’t like sweet things.

Swallowing that thought, he accepted it.

As a knight with impeccable chivalry, he couldn’t refuse a lady’s request.

Even a woman dressed like this qualified as a lady in Taeyon’s eyes.

“…Then just one bite.”

And the moment he stiffly lifted a spoonful of the strange dessert to his mouth—

“…!”

His violet eyes widened slightly.