TMDL 15

Chapter : 15

“Since I’m meeting her tomorrow anyway, I should talk to her then.”

Astellia would surely deny it or try to evade the issue. But with Raiden and Savanna as living witnesses, Freya had more than enough grounds to press her.

She might try to turn things around and corner me, so I need to be well prepared.

Stubborn and adept at twisting words to her own advantage—that was Astellia’s specialty. If Freya wasn’t careful, Astellia might even argue that Freya had concocted the whole thing.

Knock, knock—

Just as Freya was deep in thought, there was a sound at the door and Greta came in.

“Miss, your dinner.”

“Thank you. Wow, it looks delicious. But I asked for something light—doesn’t this seem like a bit much?”

Freya exclaimed in admiration. On the silver trolley Greta pushed in were an appetizing smoked duck sandwich, potato soup, a fruit salad, and orange juice.

She hadn’t been hungry at all, but seeing such tempting food made her stomach react on its own.

Grrr—

Hearing the sound, Greta smiled.

“You didn’t look well, Miss. I thought something might be wrong, so I made sure to bring something hearty.”

“Thank you, Greta. You’re the only one who really looks out for me.”

She had come home late, but it wasn’t time for bed yet. Still, as usual, neither Marquis Valche nor his wife had come out of their rooms.

It’s nothing new. It’s always just Greta and the butler who wait up for me.

Used to this, Freya gave a bitter smile and turned her gaze to the table, where Greta was quickly setting the meal.

Creeeak.

“…?”

Just as Freya took a sip of orange juice and lifted her spoon to eat the soup, the door sounded again and opened.

“Freya, you’re back.”

“…Mother.”

Without waiting for her reply, Selene, the Marchioness Valche—Freya’s mother—walked in.

She glanced at the food on the table and frowned.

“You haven’t even had dinner at this hour?”

“I was busy with work. I didn’t have time to eat.”

“Even so, eating this late isn’t good for you. Don’t eat too much. You know a lady must always take care of her figure, right?”

“…Of course.”

She’d heard it so often her ears could blister. Freya set down the spoon she was holding.

After giving a small smile to Greta, who looked at her with concern, she asked Selene,

“Did you have something to say to me?”

“Oh, yes. Make some time the day after tomorrow. There’s a party you need to attend.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can spare the time for a while. Work has been hectic.”

At Freya’s firm refusal, Selene’s expression darkened.

“Not even for one day?”

“Yes. Because of the new policy Duke Betelheim proposed, the entire administration is in chaos. As the head of my department, I can’t be absent.”

“What difference does it make if just you are gone… Fine, I understand.”

She shook her head with a sigh.

“……”

What difference does it make if I’m gone?

Freya’s face slowly hardened at the muttered words.

It makes a difference. A lot depends on how the person in charge acts.

If it had been a personal matter, she might have canceled or postponed her schedule to attend the party. But this was work. As someone affiliated with the Imperial Palace, Freya was practically a civil servant working for the country.

No matter what family’s party it was, work naturally came first, yet Selene didn’t seem inclined to understand even a little.

“It’s a shame—you would’ve had a good opportunity. I’ll arrange a separate occasion, so keep that in mind.”

“An occasion? What do you mean by that?”

“You don’t need to know yet. I hear the butler put the documents you need to handle on your desk in the study. It doesn’t look good to have them piled up, so go tidy them up quickly.”

Leaving only her nagging behind, Selene turned and left the room, ignoring Freya’s urgent question.

“…What on earth is she planning?”

She had said attending the party would’ve been a “good opportunity.” How could a tiring party—where she’d have to wear a smiling mask for hours and mind everyone else—be any kind of opportunity for her?

As Freya frowned and sank into thought, Greta spoke in a voice full of dissatisfaction.

“It seems Madam only ever comes to see you for things like that. She could at least talk with you a bit more warmly before leaving.”

“You know that’s not the kind of person she is. There’s no point expecting it.”

“Still, she just dumped a ton of work on you again, Miss. It’s really too much.”

“It’s not just once or twice. You get used to it.”

Seeing Selene naturally pushing the mistress’s duties onto Freya made Greta angry, but since it was familiar, Freya didn’t react much.

It had already been several years since Freya had taken over the lady of the house’s responsibilities in Selene’s stead. That was one of the reasons she intended to remain single.

“What did Mother do today?”

“She attended a tea gathering at Count Rotten’s residence this afternoon.”

“So she went after getting the invitation yesterday.”

“Yes. But she came back earlier than expected. After that, she went into her room and didn’t come out until dinner.”

“Really?”

At social gatherings, unless there was an unavoidable reason, it was polite to stay until the end. Selene also enjoyed spending time at such events, so she usually stayed until the very last moment.

Then if she came back early, did something happen at the tea party?

It didn’t seem like anything bad had happened—her expression had been fine. Could it be related to that party she called a good opportunity?

What had she heard, and from whom? Somehow, Freya had a bad feeling about it.

“Miss, please eat first. The soup has gone cold. Shall I warm it up?”

“No, it’s fine as it is.”

It was still lukewarm—just right to eat. Freya lifted her spoon and took a sip of the potato soup.

“Mmm—it’s good. It’s a bit different from the soup we usually have, isn’t it?”

“They say it’s made with potatoes newly brought in from the Retas region.”

“They got something good this time. Maybe it’s because Father made such a fuss last time.”

About two weeks ago, the whole family had gathered for dinner for once, and potato soup had been served. It was edible, but apparently not to Marquis Valche’s taste—he’d thrown down his spoon after just one bite.

Greta shook her head as if she couldn’t deal with it.

“Because His Lordship asked if the soup was made from rotten potatoes, all the potatoes we had then were thrown away. They were all perfectly fine, too.”

“Father’s taste is just that refined. He won’t even drink a glass of water without fussing over it—so there’s no way he’d eat food made from potatoes that aren’t in perfect condition.”

Marquis Valche only drank water drawn from a deep well and filtered several times until it was perfectly clean. When eating, he checked the smell, seasoning, and even the thickness and texture.

Catering to his palate was no easy task, so for the marquis’s head chef and kitchen staff, every day was like a battlefield.

“Well, thanks to that, at least I get to eat good food. Even if he’s overly picky, I’m grateful for that part.”

“Miss…”

Freya scooped up another spoonful of soup, blew on it gently, and carefully put it into her mouth. The well-mashed potatoes, cooked until tender, made for a rich yet smooth soup that whetted her appetite.

“There’s definitely a difference in taste. Maybe it’s because they grow these potatoes with some special method in Retas—the nutty flavor is excellent.”

“The head chef said it’s his masterpiece. Even His Lordship admitted at dinner that it was tasty, which is rare, and that it’s different from the last potato soup.”

“Really?”

For him to praise it so honestly—what a surprise. It must really suit his taste.

“Please try the salad too. The fruits and vegetables are very fresh.”

“They really are.”

Seeing the glossy salad, Freya picked up her fork. Bananas, mangoes, blueberries—colorful fruits mixed with vivid green vegetables looked wonderfully fresh.

She mixed in the lemon dressing, speared a bite with her fork, and put it in her mouth. A bright, refreshing flavor spread across her palate.

“Mmm—.”