“That can’t be. You’re the one who saved me from suffocating in loneliness. I’m not just saying this to make you feel good. Please believe me.”

His serious expression was tinged with sadness. I felt that if I opened my mouth, I might start crying, so I just nodded.

“I wanted to fully understand everything you saw, heard, and felt. That’s why I read your letters so often. The choice of words, the meaning of commas, the intention behind changing paragraphs… Even if you wrote them casually, to me, those letters were essentially you. That’s how it was…”

Leopold trailed off, taking another drink, this time slowly, with a grimace.

I thought I understood what he meant. He probably regretted burning the letters in front of me. It was a painful memory for me too, and I wondered if it would ever fade.

I took a sip of wine, following his lead. The earthy scent from the glass seemed to suit Leopold perfectly.

“So, Hazel.”

I was just about to put a piece of fruit in my mouth. I gave him a look to continue, and Leopold, with a slight smile, asked, “I’m curious about how the food tastes to you. You know how to use your tongue now, right?”

I nodded absentmindedly, then suddenly started coughing loudly in surprise. I tried to calm myself by pounding my chest with my fist. Leopold, despite being the one who made the strange comment, looked startled and stood up abruptly.

“Hazel, are you okay?”

“…Why would you make such… a joke…”

I waved him off as he rushed over, embarrassed by my cracked voice.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to be so surprised. I won’t joke like that again.”

He didn’t need to promise that, but I couldn’t speak properly because of the feeling in my throat. I knew my voice would sound strange again.

“Look at me, okay?”

As I lowered my head slightly and cleared my throat, Leopold gently touched my cheek. I couldn’t help but turn my gaze to him.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m okay…”

I took the water cup he offered, wetting my throat and clearing it before I could finally respond.

“I should stop eating and go to sleep. I’m too tired.”

“Let me clear this up right away.”

In truth, I just wanted to escape this embarrassing situation.

While the servants busily cleared the table, Leopold refilled his wine glass. I looked at him, wondering if it wasn’t too much to drink at this hour.

“Oh, this. I thought I’d stay until you fell asleep. Is that alright?”

“I don’t mind. But aren’t you tired too? Wouldn’t it be better to go and rest?”

“Watching you is better than sleeping. It feels like my fatigue disappears.”

…That calm demeanor of his was the problem. He said kind things as if they were the most natural thing in the world.

“Alright then.”

I tried to hide my embarrassment by acting nonchalant. Leopold’s satisfied smile was almost annoying.

After the bustle subsided, the sound of logs crackling in the fireplace softly filled the room. Just listening made me feel drowsy, so I slipped under the covers. Leopold settled into a large wooden armchair that the servants had moved earlier. A bedside table was diagonally across from him, and the scent wafting from the wine glass on it reminded me of him.

As I was about to lie down completely, I changed my mind and leaned against the headboard. His curious gaze followed.

“About the wine. What do you feel when you drink it? I’ve always been curious. Even when we have a formal dinner, you always drink more than you eat. Isn’t it the same loss of taste?”

Leopold rolled his eyes thoughtfully. No one had probably asked him this before, so he likely hadn’t thought about it.

Eventually, he tilted his head slightly and began to speak.

“If I had to explain… it’s like a comfort in having something to consume. Regular food, even if it’s aromatic, feels empty when I chew it, but with wine, I can savor the aroma and swallow it. There’s no void. I also like that its texture is different from water.”

“When your sense of taste returns, you’ll find enjoyment instead of just comfort, right?”

“My only joy is you.”

Though he spoke with a certain seriousness, I couldn’t help but smile and asked jokingly.

“Alright then. Can I, your source of joy, have a sip of that wine?”

“Of course.”

With a graceful smile, he handed me the glass.

“Thank you.”

I stared at the wine glass filled with red liquid for a moment. The tension made me feel like I was already getting tipsy. Finally, I took a deep breath and gulped down the wine as if it were water. The intoxication hit me all at once.

“Hazel!”

He exclaimed in surprise and hurriedly took the glass from me, but it was already empty.

“Who drinks like this?”

“I needed a bit of courage.”

“Courage?”

He asked, furrowing his brow. I turned slightly and wrapped my arms around his neck.

Leopold, who had been stiff, was soon pulled toward me helplessly.

***

I couldn’t even remember how I fell asleep. All I vaguely recalled was being too drunk and trying to heal him.

Perhaps because I was not good with alcohol, my hangover was severe. A burning stomach and thirst were minor issues. The splitting headache and muscle aches in my limbs were unbearably painful. I propped myself up on the bed and managed to sit up. Although I would eventually recover with time, it seemed better to use my magic more actively.

“Whew…”

I was about to lean back against the headboard and slowly focus my mind when I heard the door open and someone entered.

“You’re awake?”

“Leopold.”

He came in, looking as impeccable as ever, carrying a tray. On it were an ice bucket, a glass, and a water pitcher. He made some ice water and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Drink some water. It’ll help with the hangover.”

As if I were a serious patient, Leopold held the cup and fed me the water himself. Lacking the strength to speak, I simply opened my mouth.

“…I feel a little better.”

“That’s a relief.”

He slowly wiped the water from my lips with his fingers. In that moment, I suddenly remembered what I had done last night.

“Um, Leopold…”

“Yes?”

When I hesitated to speak, Leopold smiled as if he knew nothing. I wanted to ask if his sense of taste had returned, but his presence lingered vividly in my mouth, making me too embarrassed to speak.

“…Shall we have breakfast?”

“Yes. Get ready and come to the dining room.”

He left a brief kiss on my forehead and exited the room. He was still kind and gentle, but his demeanor was more reserved than it had been yesterday. Was Leopold embarrassed too?

Or perhaps… had the healing failed? Was he disappointed because of that…?

I felt a twinge of anxiety. I quickly called for someone to help me get dressed.

The corridor, still carrying the chill of dawn, was quite cold. Thanks to that, I fully sobered up and regained my senses.

Leopold was sitting at one end of the table reading a newspaper, wearing the stern expression I usually saw in the study, which made me chuckle. He didn’t seem to dislike work, but it was clear he was displeased with many things he had to do.

When our eyes met, he immediately softened his expression. Then he snapped his long fingers, and the food was quickly served.

“It smells wonderful.”

I couldn’t help but express my admiration. I was about to naturally pull out the chair opposite him when he spoke.

“Come here. That seat is too far.”

I paused, unsure of what he meant, and Leopold stood up, pulling out the chair diagonally across from him. Then, with great courtesy, he offered his hand, bowing slightly.

“Please, have a seat, my lady.”

“I deeply appreciate the Duke’s consideration.”

If I had a fan, I would have covered my mouth and pretended to laugh delicately. I matched his gesture with a broad smile.

“But what is all this?”

Despite the delightful aroma, several bowls of soup with similar colors and textures were placed before me. I had never heard that soup was a cure for hangovers.

As I tilted my head in confusion, Leopold confidently spoke.

“If you taste it first, I’ll follow and try to guess the flavor.”

“…Could it be that your sense of taste has returned?”

“Who knows.”

His answer was ambiguous. I looked at him anxiously, but Leopold remained calm.

The first bowl was quite salty. I hid my expression and handed the bowl to him. Without hesitation, Leopold tasted it and curled his lips into a smile.

“Salty.”

“Oh my… Then how about this one?”

I quickly checked the second bowl and passed it to Leopold.

“This one is sweet.”

He identified the bland third bowl and the sour fourth bowl correctly. Overwhelmed with emotion, I covered my mouth with both hands.

“I thought I’d never taste anything again. Thank you so much, Healer Hazel.”

Mimicking me playfully, he laughed brightly. My vision blurred for a moment, but tears were not welcome at such a joyous moment.

When Leopold raised his hand, the table was instantly filled with new dishes. It was a peaceful and precious time for both of us.

Being excellent at everything, he was also remarkable at describing flavors. I learned for the first time that roasted vegetables could have so many tastes. I couldn’t stop smiling.

After the meal, we had tea together and took a walk in the garden. We promised to go hunting in the spring. They were happy days. Occasionally, when he was away on estate business, I spent my time researching new healing methods.

Then, almost two weeks later, I realized something odd. The deadline for consummating our marriage was approaching. However, since the day I healed his sense of taste, Leopold had only given me brief kisses on the forehead or hand. I wondered if he found it hard to bring up the topic.

Growing increasingly anxious, I decided to muster up the courage once again, this time with a clear mind.