Chapter 6

Chris met Charlotte’s eyes, full of sympathy, then shifted his gaze to her fine, white skin and hair that clearly showed signs of care.

“For an orphan, you don’t look like you’ve suffered all that much. Were you at the academy since you were young?”

If one had money, then the academy.

If one did not, then the orphanage.

And if fate did not even permit that, then the streets.

It was practically the set course of life for a war orphan.

But Charlotte’s round eyes widened in surprise at his obvious deduction.

“How did you know?”

“Hah, I can tell just by looking.”

A dry, breathy laugh slipped from Chris’s indifferent mouth.

It was already the third time that day.

Though he himself did not realize it.

Pressing down his Adam’s apple to swallow the laugh, he slowly reached out a hand toward the woman.

“Huh? Why?”

Startled by the sudden movement, Charlotte drew her body back.

Then, tap-.

His hand pressed gently on the linen napkin lying in front of her.

The napkin, which had been fluttering precariously in the strong wind, settled quietly beneath his hand.

It was unexpected thoughtfulness.

“……”

While Charlotte felt awkward, as if she had frightened herself for nothing, a seafood salad topped with an entire giant lobster was set on the table.

“Your seafood salad. Please enjoy.”

“Ah, yes, thank you.”

Chris skillfully removed the lobster tail meat and placed it on Charlotte’s side plate.

Charlotte’s blue eyes blinked awkwardly.

“Why all of a sudden….”

“Why am I acting like a gentleman?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Shouldn’t I?”

“No, well, it’s not exactly that, but….”

The unexpected kindness made her grateful, yet inwardly uncomfortable.

Charlotte reached out as if snatching away his tongs.

“Thank you, Chris. I’ll serve myself the vegetables….”

“It’s not good to be picky.”

Cutting Charlotte off at once, Chris placed grilled eggplant and mushrooms onto her side plate as he pleased.

Charlotte’s brows knit.

“I’m not being picky. I was going to take them myself.”

Pouting, she brandished her fork and, as if for show, swallowed the eggplant and mushrooms in one bite.

Her tiny lips grew moist with vegetable juices, and her reddish cheeks puffed out full.

“Pffh.”

Laughter burst out of Chris in a sudden strike, and he jerked his head away.

It felt as though some pressure below his throat was about to burst out, like a stopper forced over a torrent of water.

He twisted the area around his throat with thumb and forefinger, trying to reduce the pressure, but it was useless.

Soon, a cool, refreshing laugh like waves crashing against a massive rock forced its way past lips that did not even know what laughter was.

He laughed out loud enough to bewilder every guest in the restaurant, yet he was not even aware that he was laughing.

His chest, which had felt so stifled, had simply cleared.

Because this was the first time he had laughed like that since he became eight years old and lost his parents.

After laughing for quite a while, his throat felt rough.

Only then did he steady his breathing and drink some water, and by then Charlotte, whose puffed cheeks had gone flat again, was staring at him with a grave expression.

“Is there a problem?”

“…N-no.”

At such an utterly shameless response, Charlotte shook her head without meaning to.

There were more than enough problems, but when she reminded herself that he had been a soldier until recently, somehow all of it became something that could happen.

Instead of paying attention to the strange man, she shifted her gaze to the neglected lobster tail.

Judging by the glossy shine from the generous coating of butter sauce, it was surely delicious.

She cut the lobster tail into bite-sized pieces and put one into her mouth.

An unexpected tart flavor struck her tongue.

It seemed not to be just butter sauce, but lemon butter sauce.

“Mmm! It’s delicious! I’ve never had anything like this before.”

Listening to her fussing, Chris lowered his eyes to the food.

Having lost his sense of taste two years ago along with his senses of smell and touch, he had long since lost all interest in meals as well.

When he was hungry, his strength dropped and his mood turned foul, so all he did was shove down high-calorie, convenient food whenever needed.

In particular, he would not even touch things like vegetables or seafood, the sort that did not fill the stomach anyway.

Whatever he ate felt like chewing sand and paper, and every so often, no matter how excellent the food, it would feel like rotten garbage.

But was it because the woman before him was eating so deliciously.

Or because, when he was with this woman, his senses of smell and touch returned even intermittently.

A faint curiosity and sense of anticipation rose in him.

Might he be able to taste something properly?

He hesitated for a moment, fidgeting with his fork and knife, when Charlotte removed some lobster claw meat and placed it on his plate.

As an extra, she quietly tucked in some eggplant and mushrooms too.

“You should hurry and eat too. The sauce is especially good.”

As he picked up the claw meat with his fork, he noticed the hidden eggplant and mushrooms underneath and gave her a sidelong look.

“I’m picky.”

As if to make a point, he ignored the vegetables and stuffed only the lobster claw whole into his mouth.

Charlotte found him annoying for picking out only the lobster meat, but inwardly, she was looking forward to his reaction.

When people share delicious food, there was always a small pleasure in sharing their impressions too.

But while chewing the lobster, Chris’s brows twisted.

His fierce gaze turned toward the lobster shell.

“How is it?”

“……”

“Is it good?”

“It’s sour.”

“What? So does that mean it’s good or bad?”

“I said it’s sour because it tastes sour.”

His review was as peculiar as his personality.

But unlike that lukewarm comment, the food clearly suited his taste.

He had swept up even the eggplant and mushrooms, despite saying he was picky.

Judging by how he ate the decorative lemon just fine as well, he seemed to like sour flavors quite a lot.

Soon, the chicken br*ast steak, cream lasagna, and rib barbecue platter arrived all at once and filled the table.

He began devouring the food as greedily as a barbarian who had never learned dining etiquette.

‘I thought he ordered a lot, but I guess he’s just someone who naturally eats well.’

She had already seen so much of his strange behavior that this was not even surprising anymore.

As she ate the salty lasagna rich with cheese and cream, she spoke to him out of habit.

“This is good too. What about you? It’s good, right?”

“It tastes salty.”

“I don’t think it’s that salty. Then what about this?”

When Charlotte pointed to the barbecue soaked generously in brown sauce, he picked up a rib with his hand, bit into it with his whole mouth, and answered,

“This one is sweet.”

“You really do describe flavors in a very strange way.”

Charlotte was not the only one looking at Chris curiously.

All the restaurant guests and staff were stealing glances at him.

The guests looked uneasy, as though worried he might suddenly do something disruptive, while the staff watched with suspicion, as though wondering whether he might run off without paying.

Noticing this, Charlotte rubbed her anxious palms against the hem of her skirt and cautiously asked,

“But you really do have money, right? If you don’t, just say so honestly. I’ll go back to the ship and bring some.”

It was pure goodwill without a single twisted intent, yet the corner of Chris’s mouth tilted crookedly as if in disbelief.

He pulled out whatever money came to hand from his vest pocket and tossed it onto the table.

A bundle of bills, mixed with blue one-shelling notes and yellow ten-shelling notes, rolled across the tablecloth together with a worn pocket watch.

“Do I look short on it?”

Far from short, it was an amount excessive for an ordinary man to be carrying.

‘That has to be at least 200 shellings….’

This much money was something a laborer who lived day to day on what he earned would likely never hold in his entire life.

Growing embarrassed for no reason, Charlotte pointed at the pocket watch and changed the subject.

“…No. I didn’t mean it in an insulting way. But what’s that pocket watch?”

“Ah.”

Chris quickly snatched up the pocket watch and put it back into his pocket.

Then he blurted out an answer to a question she had not even asked, regarding the source of the 200 shellings.