Chapter 5 – Part 1 (Self-awareness)

“I swear to you, they have the best apples in Bachmann.”

One morning, a small quarrel broke out at the local fruit shop.

“They’re going to be used as ingredients for our popular apple pie. Trust us.”

Ian confidently tapped his chest towards the owner of the fruit shop.

The owner of the fruit shop, who was sweeping, looked puzzled. Sensitive due to menopause, she scolded Ian, who had come unexpectedly early in the morning.

“Bring some sample fruits. You have to taste them first before we decide whether to accept the delivery or not.”

“Hey, we haven’t even harvested yet. How can we prepare that? I’m staking my bakery’s reputation…”

“Don’t act like it’s yours subtly just because your father owns the shop! Get out before you disturb my business.”

“Business? You don’t have any customers right now.”

“Just leave!”

Ian was eventually kicked out. Despite his promise to sell all the apples to Liese, his first attempt failed after only a few minutes.

Ian walked dispiritedly towards the bookstore, where he had agreed to meet Liese. Liese, who had already arrived and was waiting for him, waved her hand.

A reflexive smile spread across Ian’s grim face. But then, his smile faded.

“Sorry, Liese.”

Liese tilted her smiling face.

“What? It’s not even harvest time yet, so why apologize?”

“…Liese?”

Ian’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“Did you just make a joke?”

“Ahaha.”

Shrugging, Liese tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and laughed.

“You looked so down. I won’t joke about it anymore.”

“No, no, no.”

Ian threw up his hands and glanced back.

“That greengrocer with the yellow sign over there is not a good place to do business. The landlady is unusually stubborn.”

“Don’t feel too bad. There are still plenty of other stores to visit.”

“How was the store you went to? Did you have any luck?”

Liese nodded her chin with a bright expression.

“Fortunately, yes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it was a small shop, but it seems to have a lot of regular customers. The owner asked me to bring twenty boxes of apples when it’s harvest time. He said he’d see how they sell and might consider additional orders then.”

“Is that true?”

Ian’s eyes widened in surprise. He even had an unworthy suspicion that Liese’s charming appearance might have swayed someone. Oblivious to his thoughts, she proudly showed off the contract she had written, cheerfully chatting.

“I emphasized that we manage the orchard without using herbicides due to its small scale and use fermented compost instead of harsh fertilizers.”

“Wow… you sound like an apple expert. So?”

“Well, he immediately recognize that it’s the sunny orchard on a hill. It turns out the shop used to do business with the orchard’s previous owner, and I’ve done a good job of maintaining it based on the growing notes he left behind.”

“That’s amazing, Liese. I was turned down right away.”

“I was just lucky. If I’d gone to that greengrocer, I’d have been turned away too. Thanks for coming out with me on a busy morning.”

“I haven’t done anything for you yet.”

The nape of Ian’s neck flushed a little in the sunlight. Liese smiled warmly at his shyness.

The streets were bustling with people buying and selling ingredients since early morning. Across the street, with bookstores, clothing stores, and general stores, most shops were still closed as it wasn’t yet opening hours.

Glancing at that side, Liese hesitated and spoke.

“Hey, Ian.”

“Yes?”

“I need to ask you something.”

Ian watched Liese’s cheerful expression suddenly turn somber, the words coming out of her mouth unexpected.

“What kind of gifts do men usually like?”

“Gifts?”

Ian blinked in surprise. His face turned red with some misunderstanding.

“Men are usually simple.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah. Anything from a woman they like would probably make them happy, right?”

“Is that so…”

Liese stammered and lost focus at the unhelpful answer. Her head was spinning with another burden she’d been forced to carry.

Marcus had demanded a gift in return for his kindness, a gift that would satisfy him—a brazen demand that had never been made before.

But since it was Liese herself who had fallen on the way back from securing Count Smith’s assurances and thus diminished her value as the Duke’s “good-looking scarecrow,” she had nothing to say.

‘Bring a gift.’

Marcus is a high nobleman, a man of supreme wealth and power who could not be more affluent. What in the world could such a man possibly need?

Liese’s brow furrowed slightly as she came to a realization.

‘…What does a duke need most? ’

It’s character. She had to go to a bookstore for that. Books like ‘How to be kind-hearted’ or ‘Meditation time for the quirky me’ were what he needed.

Liese wiped her brow. If she did that, the duke would burn not only the book but also Liese.

In other words, he was a man who didn’t need anything. So why not twist the perspective and say… He wanted it?

Considering his tendency to feel easily bored, several options came to mind. But none of them would likely satisfy the Duke.

Unconsciously, gifts are chosen with the recipient’s smile in mind. Liese always enjoyed giving gifts to her loved ones, and she cherished those heart-stopping moments.

She didn’t want to be anxious and unsettled while being threatened.

‘I guess it was my own stupidity after all.’

Liese let out a long sigh, trying not to let Ian hear it as he walked beside her. Even as she beat herself up, she couldn’t feel a twinge of regret at the thought of the Count and Countess no longer being able to come and blackmail Charlie.

“We’re here. Let’s go in, Liese.”

Arriving at another fruit and vegetable shop in the market, Ian opened the door and smiled. Liese pushed away the worry that was deeply lodged in the corner of her head and stepped into the store.

***

The weather was so hot that it felt like summer was fast approaching. Marcus, with his suit jacket draped over his arms, brushed his blonde hair from his forehead and walked out of the conference room.

The meeting to discuss the Balthazar family’s project to build a railroad between Bachmann and the neighboring Duchy of Haile had run longer than expected.

The size of the undertaking had grown to include dignitaries from the duchies, and the voices of the thick-headed quibblers from the Kingdom of Rosen had grown louder and louder, putting a damper on the already carefully laid plans.

“No, it can’t be done.”

“It’s hard to give in.”

“It’s futile.”

But they’re looking to the Duke at the head of the table for permission. No matter how much he protested, it made no difference as long as the Duke stuck to his original plan.

In the end, it ended with the usual bravado of a group that likes to save face, but as time dragged on for a matter with an obvious answer, Marcus became more nervous than ever.

Pulling out a cigarette he hadn’t touched for a while, he walked out of the building, followed by an annoying fly buzzing around him.

“Your Grace!”

The man who emerged from among the entourage was one of the nobles from the meeting earlier. Marcus half-heartedly responded without slowing down his walking pace.

“Earl Campbell.”

“I am honored that you remember me! I wanted to greet you personally, how are you?”

“As you can see.”

The earl huffed awkwardly, trying to keep up with Marcus’s stride despite his small stature.

“There is something I desperately want to convey to Your Grace. If you could just pause for a moment…”

“Please send it in writing. I don’t have time for you right now.”

Marcus’s patience, which had been strained to the breaking point in the conference room, snapped. He’d long since discarded the facade he often wore for public appearances and socializing.

Nevertheless, the earl was undeterred and followed him closely.

“Well…I’ve sent messages multiple times, but I haven’t received a response…”

“I must have missed it; send it again.”

Though it was essentially a refusal to respond, Earl Campbell smiled awkwardly.

“I can’t keep bothering His Excellency with repeated messages, hmmm. Actually, it’s something to do with your partner.”

Marcus, who had just stepped out of the building and was rummaging for a cigarette, stopped dead in his tracks. Nervous, dark eyes flicked down at the Earl of Campbell.

“You mean Lady Brennan?”