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Chapter 8
Contrary to my wariness, Joshua remained kind the entire time.
As if he truly just wanted to stroll through the botanical garden together.
When I stopped to gaze quietly at a flower, he would wait a moment and then explain it—his voice genuinely sweet.
“The colors of the Guzmania are vivid and beautiful, aren’t they? Its flower language is satisfaction. Doesn’t that suit it perfectly?”
“…It really does.”
Apparently, his claim of visiting the botanical garden often wasn’t mere boasting—he named the flowers effortlessly.
I had only been staring because it reminded me of pineapple and made me hungry.
Just as I felt a little embarrassed by my stomach’s honesty, Joshua guided me down a slightly different side path from the one we’d been walking.
“Are you starting to feel hungry?”
He smiled gently.
“I did put quite a bit of thought into the shoes I sent you, but we’ve walked a fair amount. Your legs might be starting to ache.”
One considerate remark followed another.
The place Joshua led me to felt like a small world cut cleanly away from the rest.
A space barely large enough for four people, with a tea table set neatly inside.
A tiered tray was arranged properly—from sandwiches on the bottom tier to desserts on the top—and despite being just the two of us, there were also various other tea foods prepared.
The scarlet fig jam to be eaten with scones glistened richly, its sweet aroma mingling with the floral scent and teasing my appetite.
A tea space like this inside a botanical garden—it felt almost too carefully arranged.
What felt even more out of place was the narrow stream flowing gently along the path leading there.
Had it been artificially made to flow?
That idle question was quickly answered.
“When this botanical garden was built, they saw that a stream was already flowing here and decided it would be a shame to block it, so they left it as it was.”
“Then…”
“The garden itself is quite old, so spiritists and mages worked together to maintain it. In fact, it’s older than the botanical garden closer to the imperial palace.”
Listening to his smooth explanation, I paused.
No wonder it felt so comfortable…
Whether he noticed my reaction or not, his lips curved into a relaxed smile as he extended his hand.
“Then, may I invite you to tea?”
I took a slow breath in.
Yes—if he had a purpose to reveal, this would be the perfect setting.
I nodded willingly and stepped onto the arched stone bridge laid across the narrow stream.
The sound of tea being poured—chororok—rang clear and pleasant.
Joshua instructed the attendant and maid following us to wait beyond the bridge.
There was enough distance between the bridge and this space that our conversation likely wouldn’t carry over.
Clink.
He handed me the cup he had poured first.
Though a prince, Joshua prepared tea in the most orthodox way.
He warmed the teaware with hot water, and though there was no hourglass, he measured the brewing time perfectly.
Each movement of his long fingers was elegant enough to stir an inexplicable envy in me.
Lucas had so little of that ingrained grace—yet Joshua possessed it naturally.
It reminds me of the past.
Though the marquisate wasn’t undeveloped, finding etiquette instructors suitable for Lucas had never been easy.
Because of his pride.
I could almost see Lucas pouting and clinging to me whenever things didn’t go well.
Unlike me, who was used to enduring, every single one of those lessons had been a hurdle for him.
…Stop thinking about that. It’s all in the past.
Lucas had grown enough that no one would call him lacking anymore.
After drinking tea and finishing about half of my sandwich, Joshua spoke leisurely.
“Does it suit your taste?”
“Yes, very much.”
My voice rose without me realizing it.
Honestly, I had rarely encountered tea this perfectly suited to my preferences.
Unless I went through countless tedious steps myself, I could never achieve such a delicate balance of flavor.
And even then, it took so much effort.
He did it effortlessly.
Even if perfect was his epithet, wasn’t this unfair?
Suppressing the ugly jealousy rising inside me, I continued in the composed manner of a noble lady.
“I didn’t know you brewed tea yourself, Your Highness. Surely you didn’t need to trouble yourself with such effort?”
Tea prepared by imperial servants might not match this exactly, but it would still be excellent.
Surely the prince’s—or even the emperor’s—attendants would be exceptionally skilled?
My own maids, oddly enough, always brewed tea more bitter or astringent, suited to Lucas’s tastes rather than mine.
No matter how many times I told them, it never improved—so I ended up treating it like labor fuel, no different from an Americano.
“It’s a small hobby of mine.”
He smiled gently at my envy-laced words.
“Once, someone said this to me—the act of drinking tea is lovely, but…”
His words slowed briefly.
Those violet eyes rested on me, then softened as if unfolding a cherished memory.
“They said brewing it properly requires too much care and is terribly troublesome. That it would be easier not to notice subtle differences in taste—but since they could, it made it all the more exhausting.”
“…I see.”
That person sounded eerily like me.
I didn’t know who they were or where they lived, but I suddenly wanted to be introduced to them.
“Thinking of that person, I realized that before long, my skill surpassed that of most attendants.”
I understood that feeling.
In my previous life—and now, for Lucas—I’d accumulated countless odd skills for the sake of someone precious.
I felt a faint envy toward that unknown person who had inspired him.
“Someone you think of so fondly must be very happy, Your Highness.”
To have someone endure all that trouble just for them.
At my words, he tapped his teacup lightly with a finger, clearly pleased.
The gesture made him look oddly shy—like a teenage boy.
…What am I thinking?!
Joshua being cute was an unacceptable thought.
He was a man known as perfect.
Well, it’s true he’s younger than me, but…
His politeness and refinement usually masked any youthful traces in his face.
Yet now, he seemed exactly his age—as if I had glimpsed something I wasn’t meant to see.
Then again, the person he’s thinking of is probably a lover.
What a wonderful time of life, I thought.
Feeling a shallow sense of kinship over our shared views on tea, I asked:
“Then shouldn’t you refrain from spending time like this with me, Your Highness?”
You shouldn’t betray someone who understands such subtleties, after all.
His hand, tapping the teacup, stopped abruptly.
Violet eyes wavered with momentary confusion.
After staring at me, he let out a low laugh, tilted his head slightly, and rested his chin on his hand.
“I believe you’ve misunderstood something, Miss Blante.”
“A misunderstanding?”
“I am exactly the kind of person I’m known to be.”
I flinched slightly.
So he knew I had investigated him?
“That’s surprising. I’ve only just arrived in the capital, so I’m not very familiar with rumors.”
“Oh, is that so?”
Joshua’s eyes gleamed with amusement.
Why did it feel like I was standing on his palm?
But since I’d decided to play dumb, I committed fully.
“Then you’ll learn soon enough.”
He placed a dacquoise onto my empty plate as he spoke.
It was one of my favorite desserts—soft and airy.
“Sadly, I’ve never had a lover. The person I care for has never returned my feelings.”
I inhaled quietly and lowered my gaze.
Right—yet behind the scenes, everyone dates just fine.
If I met his eyes, I felt like shouting liar!
How could someone with no experience escort a woman so flawlessly?
This wasn’t something that came merely from escorting Anita, the imperial consort.
Especially when it was said that Anita’s hands always belonged to the Emperor’s.
I didn’t believe him for a second and simply replied, “I see.”
Perhaps sensing my doubt, he seemed inclined to clarify—but then stopped and changed the subject.
Of course.
The longer a scandalous explanation drags on, the more pitiful it becomes.
By the time half the refreshments were gone, my guard had lowered as much as my appetite was satisfied.
I always carried a heavy heart, yet talking with him made my familiar, easygoing self peek out.
I really shouldn’t be like this.
Not the Alicia Blante who worked tirelessly for Lucas—but someone who simply went along with what felt pleasant.
Just as I resolved to harden my softened heart again—
Joshua Medelraike slowly extended his hand toward me.
“May I ask you one question?”
A ripple spread.
Instinctive tension surged up from my toes.
“What kind of existence is Lucas hyung to you, Miss Blante?”
He had waited through the entire day—for this single question.
