Home Post 1214-chapter-9


So, there I was, having breakfast with this offbeat man for the second time.

It was somewhere between breakfast and lunch, brunch perhaps, but the table was so laden with food that the legs might break. It seemed the term ‘brunch’ might run away in shame. Meat, meat, and more meat.

As someone who loved meat, this was heaven.

While tackling the second main dish — the chef came out personally to explain it was veal steak — I asked a cautious question.

“So, um, do you always eat like this?”

“If every meal were like this, the Glentino family’s chef would desert by midnight.”

So, this wasn’t a usual occurrence then? As I was putting the last piece of steak in my mouth, there was a knock at the dining room door. In came the chef, already familiar from multiple encounters, beaming as he wheeled in a tray.

The third main dish had arrived. The chef lifted the silver domed cover to proudly present the dish.

“Smoked duck, cooked for twenty hours.”

Gasp. Duck meat! My absolute favorite.

The chef placed the dish before us, bowed, and left the dining room.

I whispered.

“He seems to enjoy his job.”

The man chuckled.

“His satisfaction with the employer isn’t quite as high. If this meal had been solely for me, he wouldn’t have shown up in the dining room and would’ve likely grumbled for quite a while.”

Hearing that, a forgotten curiosity returned to me.

“What’s the occasion today? I understand the meal is special, but why?”

The man asked back as if he had heard something he shouldn’t have heard.

“Today? Isn’t it Lady Bartholi’s birthday?”


I nearly leaped from my seat.

“You, you knew?”

“Who doesn’t know that? It seems we have a problem. Colin!”

Still, it was better not to know!

At his call, the butler, who had been waiting by the door, entered the dining room. The man immediately uttered.

“It appears some people are unaware that today is Lady Bartholi’s birthday.”

“Ah, how out of line.”

Butler, did you hear that right?

“Of course. Immediately spread an extra throughout the empire, stating, [ Today is the birthday of Sophia Ta Bartholi, the most beautiful lady of the Bartholi family ].”


Even in the face of such an outrageous request from the eldest son, the butler seemed to take it as routine, bowing in agreement.

“Understood, Master. Should I also contact the Imperial Newspaper?”

“The Imperial Newspaper is too slow. Hmm… perhaps it’s better to request the Emperor to declare a national holiday. He did say last time to ask for anything I wished.”

“Then, I shall make the arrangements.”

I couldn’t help but burst into laughter, even knowing it was all in jest. It felt good to be included in their banter. The eldest son and the butler seemed to get along well. Even if it were a prearranged joke, I’d believe it.

“Thank you, Lord Glentino. I’ve thought this before, but you’re really quite entertaining.”

“I’m utterly serious, though.”

He spoke that with such a solemn face, which only made it funnier, and I laughed once more.

However, what truly lifted my spirits was the dessert that followed. It might sound tacky to some, though a crown-shaped Gugelhupf cake was my absolute favorite dessert, especially when filled with dried figs, raisins, and cranberries!

That perfect cake was served!

“It tastes great.”

I lightly praised it, but inside, I wanted to leap up, clap, and give it two thumbs up.

The sight of the chocolate marble within the cake, topped with blueberries and chocolate bits for decoration, made it the best Gugelhupf cake I’ve ever had.

In my family, I was the only one who enjoyed dried fruits, so we never had them at home. Occasionally, I’d salvage the raisin cookies from gifts sent by other houses, which everyone else detested.

The man smiled slightly.

“Our chef’s best dessert is the Gugelhupf.”

“All the dishes were truly excellent. They all suited my tastes perfectly.”

As I sincerely complimented him, the man subtly covered his mouth with his hand, his lips curving into what seemed like a smile.

He had been smiling openly until now. Why the sudden shyness?







After finishing the cake, the chef brought the final dessert, boasting it as the seasonal fruit.

It was… peaches.

I initially didn’t react and just picked up my fork, watching the man eat.

Owen Ta Glentino, whom I had thought to be a bit rough around the edges, ate with a surprisingly noble demeanor.

He elegantly used his fork and knife, cutting the peach into manageable pieces and gracefully lifting them to his mouth. Everything about him, from his hands to his lips to the motion of his jaw as he chewed, seemed like it was crafted with attention to detail by God.

As he reached for a second piece, his gaze shifted to me. My fork was still empty.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“Oh, I have an allergy to peaches.”

Upon hearing this, the man’s face immediately tensed. He loudly summoned the butler, who was standing just outside the door.

“Did you call, Master?”

“Dispose of the peaches. All of them.”

“Excuse me?”

Unlike my confused reaction, the butler simply nodded and complied.

“Understood, Master.”

The peaches vanished from the table in an instant. The man seemed to reconsider his order.

“No, wait. Better yet, eradicate all peach seeds in the empire.”

“Yes, sir. From now on, peaches shall have never existed in this world.”

“Good communication.”

The man’s comment left the butler beaming with pride as he exited the room.


This place has a unique way of treating guests. It almost made me feel extraordinarily special. Yet, the exaggerated attention, almost jest-like, wasn’t unpleasant.

In fact, I liked it.

“Do you have any other food allergies, Lady?”

“N, no. No more.”

I hesitantly added.

“And actually, my peach allergy isn’t that severe. Just some vomiting and hives.”

“A little more, and it would’ve been fatal.”

The man said that with a deadpan face.

Then, there was a knock.

Servants brought in a new selection of seasonal fruits—raspberries, blueberries, and grapes—which were light and easy to eat. It had been a long while since I had such a relaxed meal without having to worry for others.

As the last plate was cleared, I sincerely thanked the man.

“Thank you. I enjoyed the meal very much.”

“Yes, it seems you did.”

The man added somewhat bluntly. It was unclear if he noticed the look on my face that suggested I might hit him.

“However, I think you could have eaten even more.”

…More? Was there some kind of special order to fatten me up?

Suddenly, my gaze drifted to the bags under his eyes. They looked a bit tired as if he had spent the night awake, perhaps busy wrapping up the funeral arrangements. It was then that I realized the situation again.

It wasn’t the time to happily enjoy delicious food.

I answered with a composed tone.

“Lord Glentino, as you may be aware, I lost my fiance yesterday.”

“Yes, I’m aware. Actually, I wanted to speak to you about your former fiancé.”

Tea had been served in front of us at some point, quickly prepared by the butler, who then discreetly exited.

I swallowed hard.

“Before that, there’s something I need to say.”

“Please, go ahead.”


Before coming here, I had intended to be defiant, daring Lord Glentino to demand reparations, to provide evidence that my fiancé’s death was my fault. However, faced with such kindness, such an act felt deeply wrong. Even if it meant facing disdain later, I felt I should not act cowardly now.

So, somewhat impulsively, I confessed.

“It’s my fault that Arnold died.”

“Excuse me?”

I kept my head down, fidgeting with my fingers. Admitting that his brother had died because of the feud between my sister and me was excruciating.

I began to explain slowly.

“Usually, when people care deeply for each other, they say they can’t live without one another. My sister Leonie and I are the opposite. You could say we ‘can’t live without trying to kill each other.’ We genuinely tried to end each other’s lives.”

“I see.”

“And not long ago, Lord Glentino, you saw me in that mountainous area. The assassination attempt on Leonie at that time was ultimately orchestrated by me, and enraged by it… Leonie sought revenge by killing my fiancé.”

After struggling to get the words out, I began counting slowly in my head, ready to offer a more detailed explanation if he seemed confused or asked for further clarification.

The unpredictability of his reaction made me tense.

Time passed, and around when I reached a count of fifty, he finally spoke.

“To start with the conclusion, it appears we hold completely opposing views on this matter. Arnold’s death is not Lady’s fault.”