Chapter 5 – Issen (Part 17)

The three of them sat down with the help of the attendants. Jared sat at the head of the table, with Bryant to his right and Evelyn to his left. It was a triangle with the base slightly longer.

“You live in a wonderful home. It’s the most impressive townhouse I’ve seen.”

“That’s very kind of you. It’s thanks to my ancestors.”

“How old is it?”

“About three hundred years. When the Empire was founded and the Glenn family received the dukedom, the Empress granted this land. This building has been preserved since it was first built. Even the tiles are newly made to match the original.”

“That’s remarkable.”

“It’s rather peculiar. Our family places great importance on tradition.”

Jared continued, picking up a small glass of aperitif. His tone sounded somewhat cynical.

“If you wish, you can take a leisurely tour after dinner. I am not a suitable guide as I rarely stay here, but Wayne, the butler, knows the number of stairs and bricks, so feel free to ask him anything.”

At his words, Evelyn glanced at the butler. The elderly man smiled warmly as he poured her aperitif.

“It seems you seldom come to Issen, Your Grace.”

“My only reason is to pay respects to Their Majesties. With so many matters to attend to in the estate, I can barely make it to the Sun Festival, so I hope the Imperial Family understands.”

“Of course, they will.”

“I believe so as well.”

Jared smiled gently at Bryant and raised his glass slightly. Bryant responded with a pleased expression, lifting his glass. They seemed to have a considerable liking for each other.

So when both men turned their eyes to her simultaneously, Evelyn had to make an effort to respond naturally.

The three of them toasted with a gesture. The aperitif was strong but sweet and cold. A similar aperitif had been served at the Maxville dinner. Remembering this, Evelyn slowly emptied her small glass in one go.

The host asked a question immediately afterward.

“Do you like this townhouse, Miss Dale?”

Evelyn set her glass down and looked up to meet Jared’s face.

The distance was close enough to see even the slightest expressions. So the man could also see her complexion in detail. Realizing this, her mind went blank, and her tongue felt stiff. Evelyn could only manage a very stiff response.

“Yes. It’s a very beautiful place.”

“That’s what everyone says when they see this place.”

“Because it’s true.”

“That’s unfortunate. It seems you have no intention of using your writer’s talent for me.”

“……”

“I hear this isn’t your first visit here, Miss Evelyn.”

Bryant interjected. When their eyes met, he smiled gently, as if to encourage her.

Did he notice my tension? Am I showing it that much?

Evelyn felt a sense of crisis and deliberately brightened her tone to answer.

“I came as a spectator a few years ago. When the former Duke was here.”

“You must mean the Duke before the last.”

Jared corrected her in a dry tone. Evelyn realized her mistake and lowered her eyes. The former Duke was Herald Glenn, his brother who held the dukedom for half a year.

“……Yes. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

He replied in an indifferent tone, as if it were nothing, and then asked a second question.

“How does it feel to be back?”

Their eyes met again. Evelyn didn’t avoid the man’s gaze. Dozens of candles burned in the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The dim lighting emphasized the contours of objects.

Jared’s features seemed even stronger than she remembered. Black hair and a pale forehead. Prominent brow bones and a straight nose. Green irises and black pupils. However, the contrast of all these features was more pronounced than before, Evelyn thought, not merely because of the play of light.

Jared’s green eyes held a cool authority. A solid and cold arrogance like a frozen lake. Evelyn couldn’t feel the same warmth in those eyes as before. The mischief and smile that once lingered there were gone. The unique stable brightness that had captivated her was absent.

Was this his true self all along? Was the face I loved an illusion? If so, perhaps he hasn’t changed at all but remained the same.

Which was the real him?

Having thought that far, Evelyn felt drained. She was thinking the same thoughts she had at the Ducal mansion in Maxville three years ago.

How pathetic. 

With self-mockery, she began to speak.

“I thought it felt like time had stopped.”

Looking directly into those green eyes watching her.

“It seems… everything here is the same. It feels like nothing has changed. Of course, it could just be my imagination.”

“It might not be an illusion.”

Jared replied.

“It really hasn’t changed. Not at all.”

“……”

“As far as I know, that’s the case.”

Even after finishing his words, he didn’t avert his gaze. He watched intently, as if not to miss even the slightest reaction from the woman. If the appetizer soup hadn’t arrived at that moment, he might have bored a hole through her face.

As the dinner began, the pianist entered. The middle-aged man in a frock coat was not introduced and quietly started playing without drawing anyone’s attention. Evelyn only then realized there was a large piano behind her.

The soft melody soothed the awkward atmosphere. Thanks to the music, it wasn’t too uncomfortable even when the conversation occasionally paused. As usual, Bryant was the one who spoke the most, and Jared, playing the host, participated more actively in the conversation than he had in the restaurant on Hugel Street. Evelyn only answered briefly when asked and did not interject or join in the conversation between the men.

“This is the northern liquor you mentioned.”

Bryant picked up the heavy crystal glass and brought it to his nose. The strong liquor with a golden hue had a soft woody scent. It was so intense that even Evelyn, sitting across from him, could smell it.

“I’m not sure if the whiskey will suit your taste.”

“I’ve had it a few times. It’s quite a strong drink.”

“You need strong liquor to endure the cold weather.”

Jared replied, turning his head towards the woman.

“The drink I’ve given you, Miss Dale, is Liretta wine. I thought whiskey might not be suitable for a lady.”

He briefly explained, as if asking for understanding. However, the moment their eyes met, Evelyn couldn’t help but read the shared memory in his gaze.

She didn’t like whiskey. When Jared first offered her the drink, she had been enticed by the fragrant smell and took a big gulp, only to cough for quite a while. 

‘Why do people drink such a thing? I almost died.’

At her exaggerated complaint, Jared had laughed and defended himself. 

‘Sorry, I won’t offer it again. But it’s really good liquor.’

It seemed she could hear the laughter from that day. The vitality of memories is truly tenacious.

“……Thank you for your consideration.”

Bowing politely, Evelyn steadied her mind.

“What kind of wine is Liretta wine? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s a new wine produced in Mendel. It’s made to imitate Elgagrove’s Grover.”

Jared answered Bryant’s question. The conversation’s focus shifted back to the gentlemen.

“Grover is also popular here, but because it’s a rare wine, Mendel’s winemakers have created a similar product.”

“It seems there’s no tradition of making new wine in Trissen.”

“There isn’t.”

“I see.”

Bryant nodded.

In his hometown of Elgagrove, grapes were harvested every October to make wine. The wine, aged for only two months and bottled in December, was called Grover. It was so popular that it sold out immediately every year upon release.

“Though it can’t compare to the original’s reputation, Trissen is now producing quite decent new wine.”

Jared spoke modestly and gave a slight nod to the butler. Without a word, the butler understood his master’s intent and placed a new wine glass in front of Bryant. After filling it, the Duke encouraged him to taste it. With an intrigued expression, Bryant slowly sipped a mouthful,

“It has a good balance. It’s less sweet than Grover.”

The Duke was pleased when he finished the wine poured for tasting.

“The winemakers will be delighted to hear that a Lord of Elgagrove enjoyed it.”

“Only if you hide the fact that I’m very generous with wine.”

“Mr. Clifton, are you a modest man or honest?”

“Sorry, but neither, Your Grace.”

Jared let out a dry laugh at the man’s smooth words. After smiling at the face that seemed to admit defeat, Bryant naturally continued the conversation.

“The reason Grover is highly regarded is not because it’s a good wine, but because it’s the King’s wine.”

Saying this, he picked up the whiskey glass again. Evelyn quietly focused on his words.

“Every year, after the bottling is finished, the wine is first presented to the royal family. It’s a tradition that started when the Clifton family received the Elgagrove region as their estate. It’s popular because it is served at His Majesty’s first banquet of the new year.”

Having said that, Bryant brought the glass to his lips. He savored the strong liquor as if it were wine. Slowly holding it in his mouth, he leisurely swallowed it before continuing.

“In my hometown, they call Grover the drink of revelers. It used to be a very common and cheap wine.”

“That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Outsiders are unlikely to know. If aged for more than two months, the aroma dissipates. After six months, the taste begins to deteriorate, and after a year, it’s undrinkable. That’s why the old folks gave it such a nickname. Now it receives a high price as the King’s New Year’s banquet wine.”

Bryant lightly set the glass down with a tap. Then he looked up at the man at the head of the table.

“People tend to be more enamored with the aura surrounding something than the object itself.”

And with that, the conversation paused. The two men exchanged glances in silence for a moment. To an outsider, it might have seemed like a form of communion or a battle of nerves. Either way, it was something Evelyn never wanted.

“Interesting.”

Jared said. 

The drink of revelers. 

He muttered low and chuckled a bit. Then he picked up his glass and downed the remaining liquor in one gulp. The butler, standing quietly, approached and refilled the empty glass.

“Whiskey needs to be aged for at least three years to taste good.”

Jared said, looking down at the liquor pooled at the bottom of the glass.

“The longer it’s aged, the deeper the flavor and aroma. They say a well-managed whiskey reaches its peak at 30 years.”

“Then this must be a 30-year-old whiskey. You did say you were offering the finest.”

“That’s right. It’s a 30-year-aged whiskey. It’s been bottled for over 60 years.”

Bryant remained silent, looking at the Duke. He seemed a bit surprised. Evelyn only then realized what Jared’s words meant and belatedly opened her mouth slightly in surprise.

“The whiskey you’re drinking now is from 1800.”

“……Truly a rare liquor.”

“A fitting hospitality for a distinguished guest.”

Evelyn alternated her gaze between the golden liquid in the two men’s glasses. Whiskey aged 90 years. The unimaginable passage of time was astonishing. The intact aroma that had traversed such a heavy span was even more so.

“We Northerners believe that the accumulation of time is the most precious thing.”

Jared said, his expression calm. The two guests silently looked down at the aged whiskey.