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Chapter 3: Meaningful Time
“…The old man said, if Emma is still waiting here, tell her there’s no need to wait. He said you should use your time more meaningfully.”
“I am using it meaningfully!”
His cold tone irritated me so much that I snapped back before I could stop myself.
Demetrio looked startled, his golden-green eyes opening wide in surprise—as if he didn’t expect me to raise my voice.
“You’ve been coming here every week, sitting in the gazebo, doing nothing but waiting for us, haven’t you?”
“…How did you know that?”
“One of the garden staff mentioned it.”
Of course, this was a royal garden, and the staff often patrolled the area.
So, it wasn’t surprising that my secret waiting had been found out.
“My way of saying it was harsh,” he admitted. “But I truly meant that you should use your time wisely.”
“For me… even waiting is meaningful…”
Our baron family was “nobility” in name only—we were poor and always busy.
We had only a few hired servants, so I usually handled most of the cleaning and garden work myself.
The royal garden was free to enter, and I often came here both for gardening inspiration and to relax.
Before I met Grandpa, I would just wander around, lost in thought, then head home.
But after meeting him, I had someone to talk with about the changing flowers, the latest trends in the capital, and all sorts of things beyond chess.
Those hours had become precious to me.
Just thinking about seeing Grandpa and Demetrio again had been the one thing that kept me going through my busy days.
So, when he told me to “use my time meaningfully,” I couldn’t help but reject it.
When I said that, Demetrio gave a soft smile—a gentle one I’d never seen before.
For some reason, my heart tightened painfully.
He somehow reminded me of Grandpa. Maybe it was just my imagination, but… it felt the same.
“Yeah… you’re right,” he said quietly. “I liked the time the three of us spent together too. Thank you for waiting for us.”
“…That sounds like you’re saying it’s already over…”
His words made it sound as though those peaceful days would never come again.
I didn’t want to say that out loud. I looked down instead.
Then, a large, warm hand cupped my left cheek.
“Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying.”
“Not yet, right?”
“…!”
His thumb gently brushed beneath my eye.
When I looked up, Demetrio was standing close beside me.
For a few seconds, we just stared at each other in silence.
Then, as if suddenly realizing what he was doing, he pulled his hand away and stepped back.
“…Sorry for touching you without permission.”
That single sentence confirmed my suspicion—he must be a noble too.
It wasn’t unusual; high-ranking nobles often had knights or retainers who were themselves of noble birth.
But something about Demetrio’s manner—the quiet authority in his voice—felt more like that of a man used to giving orders, not just following them.
It was strange, how you could sense that sort of thing about someone even without knowing who they really were.
“I’ll contact you if something comes up,” he said.
“Yes.”
He didn’t even ask for my family name or address, and yet… I somehow felt sure he would be able to find me.
Maybe I just didn’t want to think too hard about how.
“See you again.”
“Yes. See you…”
