Chapter 6: The Taste He Remembered

Chamomile, peppermint, lemon balm, dried apple tea.

In the two months since coming to the Weiss territory, when I counted the types of tea placed in the accounting room each night, not once had there been the same one.

At first, I did not pay attention.

I was simply grateful that there was warm tea on the desk, and I did not even notice the differences in taste.

But one night, I clearly realized something.

Whenever I casually murmured, “Today’s tea was delicious,” to no one in particular, the same kind would always appear the next day.

Not just once.

Many times.

—Too precise to be coincidence.

Morning.

I was cross-checking the ledgers with Hannes in the accounting room.

Traffic on the trade routes had increased by twenty percent compared to last month.

In addition to the tariff corrections, announcing the alternative sea route had been effective.

Once winter passed, it would likely increase even more.

“These are good numbers.

At this rate, we can expect a single-year surplus in three months.”

“…Amazing.

It’s really amazing.

Before you came, Lady Serena, just opening the ledger would give me a stomachache.”

Hannes exaggeratedly pressed a hand to his chest.

This man’s expressions were always lively.

“By the way, Hannes.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for preparing tea every night.

Yesterday’s lemon balm, and the chamomile from before, were both very delicious.”

Hannes tilted his head.

“…Tea?

I didn’t prepare it.”

“Eh?”

“I’m not in charge of bringing tea to the accounting room at night.

I didn’t give any such instructions to the servants either.”

My pen stopped.

“Then… who—”

Hannes seemed about to say something for a moment, then stopped.

Instead, he gave a slightly troubled smile.

“Well.

If you have someone in mind, why not ask them directly?”

Someone in mind.

Someone who could prepare tea.

Someone who stayed up late.

Someone who naturally knew where the accounting room was—

(…No way.)

I set down my pen and stood up.

When I knocked on the door of Lucas’s office, a low voice responded.

“Come in.”

When I opened it, Lucas was facing a pile of documents.

As always, maps were pinned to the wall.

A topographical map of the territory and border lines.

Beside it—

Something framed seemed to be displayed, but now was not the time to focus on that.

“Count Weiss.

There is something I would like to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Every night, the tea placed in the accounting room—was it you—”

Lucas’s hand stopped.

He set down his pen.

He did not look up.

His gaze shifted toward the window.

“…Don’t worry about it.”

“No, um.

I do worry about it.

It has been every night for two months.”

“…”

“And every time it’s a different kind, and when I say something is delicious, it appears again the next day.

You must be remembering the types—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

The second time.

His voice dropped slightly lower.

Lucas was still looking out the window.

His ears—

Was it my imagination?

The tips of his ears seemed slightly red.

(…Red?)

No, it must be sunburn.

Soldiers get sunburned.

Their ears too.

That must be it.

“It’s nothing much to make tea.”

At last, Lucas spoke.

In a low voice.

Still looking out the window.

“If there is someone working late into the night, I provide tea.

I did the same when I was in the military.”

(Ah—so it’s a military habit.)

That made sense.

I had heard of commanders bringing refreshments to soldiers on night duty.

“I see.

I apologize for troubling you.

I’ve been staying late—”

“It’s not trouble.”

He cut me off.

Shortly.

“…”

Silence fell.

A long silence.

The wind could be heard outside.

“…Thank you very much, Count Weiss.”

“Mm.”

That was all.

As I left the office and walked down the hallway, I placed a hand on my chest.

It was fast.

I did not understand why it was fast.

He had only made tea.

Like a superior would for a subordinate.

As a military habit.

There was no meaning beyond that.

—There shouldn’t be.

(He said not to worry about it.

So I don’t need to worry.)

I told myself that.

It did not work very well.

When I returned to the accounting room, the ledgers on the desk were as they were.

Hannes’s ledger was also left open.

Both of us had left midway, so it was only natural.

The moment the numbers entered my sight, my mind switched.

There was work to do.

Let’s work.

I sat down, picked up my pen, and began following the numbers.

As I did, the rapid beating in my chest eased a little.

—Only a little.

That evening, when I returned to my room, a letter had been placed on my desk.

The seal of the Glanz Ducal house.

I opened it.

“Serena.

I received your previous reply.

However, this is not a matter that requires royal arbitration.

It is only the deciphering of the ledgers.

If you return just once, it will be resolved.

Please.

—Alberto”

It was shorter than before.

And—

The word “please” had not been there before.

(He is cornered.

With the quarterly report unfinished, what explanation is he giving to the royal family?)

I thought about it for a moment.

If I returned just once and deciphered the ledgers, it might settle things.

Alberto’s reputation would be preserved.

The confusion in the territory would calm.

Leon’s life would not be affected—

(No.)

I did not take out writing paper.

If I returned once, there would be a second time.

He would say, “See, you can come back after all.”

And then those seven nameless years would begin again.

I folded the letter and placed it in the drawer.

Stacked beside the previous one.

(I am here.)

I opened the window.

The scent of the sea drifted in.

The sound of waves could be heard in the distance.

From the windows of the ducal house, there had been the scent of flowers.

But those were not flowers I had chosen.

They were selected within a budget, arranged by instruction, prepared for guests.

This sea breeze belonged to no one.

It simply blew.

And that was good.

That night.

I placed a single small flower I had bought at the market into a vase.

A white wildflower.

I did not know its name.

The woman at the market had said, “It’s a sturdy flower.

It lasts long with just water,” and gave it to me as a bonus when I bought paper for ledgers.

The vase was an old one from the accounting room shelf.

When I asked Hannes, “May I use this?” he said, “Ah, that thing—we left it there because we didn’t know what to use it for.”

It seemed there were only men in this house who did not know what to do with a vase.

I placed the white flower at the corner of the desk.

(—It’s beautiful.)

At the ducal house, flowers were arranged every week.

The reception room for guests.

The dining hall.

The corridors.

The entrance.

Flowers were selected according to the season, ordered from florists, and their placement directed.

That was work.

This might be the first time I had arranged flowers for myself.

Under the light, the white petals swayed slightly.

It was the night breeze coming through the window.

Suddenly, I thought about tonight’s tea.

Would it be there again?

Prepared by him.

“…Why does he go this far?”

I quickly closed my mouth after speaking.

What was I saying, alone in an empty room?

I added a little water to the vase and turned off the light.

In the darkness, there was the scent of the sea breeze and the faint lingering aroma of tea.