Wait, footsteps?

Mail’s eyes shot open. Could it be? Sure enough, as she turned her head, a familiar figure came into view, drawing closer from afar, dressed neatly and, as always, wearing a plain white mask.

“Master.”

“This time, you noticed in advance. Did making a racket help a bit?”

“Making a racket…? Anyway, that’s not the point.”

Rohayden, who had come right up to her, took a seat beside her even before she could offer it. He looked relaxed. Mail watched him in silence, tilting her head slightly. Something seemed… different.

“Master, did you change your mask by any chance?”

“Hmm?”

“Actually, maybe not. Maybe it’s your clothes that are different?”

“What are you talking about?”

“It just feels like something about you has changed.”

Not knowing exactly what it was, Mail tilted her head in curiosity, sensing that something about him seemed different today. She couldn’t pinpoint it if asked, but it felt positive somehow.

In reality, it wasn’t Rohayden’s mask or clothes that had changed; it was her own feelings. But Mail, inexperienced in such matters, didn’t realize this. Rohayden shrugged, as if he didn’t know either.

“Who knows. Maybe I got even better-looking?”

“….”

“What’s that look?”

“I just felt like I heard another language, one from another world. Like, one spoken by four-legged creatures.”

“Are you saying I’m talking nonsense?”

“Bingo.”

Mail had just become the first person to call an emperor’s words nonsense—though she was unaware of this fact.

“That’s harsh. I’ve never been looked down on because of my appearance.”

“Why don’t you take off the mask first? I need to see something before I can comment.”

“Can’t you feel it even through the mask?”

“Your ‘handsomeness’?”

“Exactly.”

“Well… fine. I’ll acknowledge it. You look about as handsome as this basket.”

“I’d rather you compare me to something alive.”

“A basket was once alive too, you know.”

Their conversation flowed easily. This unplanned meeting felt as natural as a daily routine.

Chatting with this person, Mail suddenly recalled the first time they’d met. Back then, she had really wondered what kind of suspicious liar she’d come across.

“It’s odd.”

“What, the basket? A handsome basket would be odd.”

“Not that.”

Mail pushed the basket, which Rohayden had picked up to inspect, to the side.

“It’s just… I don’t know how to say this. I didn’t know your face, status, or even your name when we first met, and I still don’t. But what used to feel suspicious doesn’t bother me at all now. It’s kind of strange.”

“I used to seem really suspicious?”

“Don’t you look suspicious to you? I should’ve brought a mirror.”

Mail touched his mask, comparing him to the intruder she’d encountered in the garden recently and finding him equally suspicious-looking. Her slender fingers unconsciously brushed against his white mask.

Rohayden was silently startled. For a moment, he had let down his guard and allowed this contact. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been this unguarded around someone.

“It’s just odd. Maybe I trust you now? At least I’m convinced you’re not a criminal.”

“…You’re surprising too.”

“Me? How so?”

“You keep catching me off guard.”

“What? That feels like something I should be saying to you.”

Mail raised her eyebrow, her expression clearly indicating that she found his words unbelievable. After all, she was the one whose heart had been racing every time he appeared without warning. Seeing her expression, Rohayden laughed softly.

“I meant that you keep surprising my lungs.”

“Maybe… it’s because your lungs are weak.”

“Let’s go with that.”

“Tomatoes are supposed to be good for the lungs.”

“…Weren’t you sorry for teasing me?”

“It’s just a fact.”

Mail gave a small smile and, before he could say more, quickly pulled the basket closer, starting to unpack the food.

This time, the variety of dishes was even greater than before. The difference now was the addition of warm items like soup and freshly baked bread. Watching the array of dishes, Rohayden couldn’t help but wonder, just like last time—can she really eat all of that?

“I was a bit disappointed last time, so this works out,” Rohayden said.

“Works out for what?” Mail asked.

“I was curious if you could really eat all of this.”

With a glance, Rohayden gestured at the spread on the ground. Mail shrugged after pulling out the last set of utensils and water from the basket. This wasn’t a big deal.

“I can finish all this and have dessert, too. Well, as long as I’m not wearing a corset, that is.”

“Corset?”

“It’s something that goes around your waist to make you look slim. I wear it when I go to banquets. Not that any lady would go without one.”

Mail gestured to show the shape of the small torture device.

Rohayden knew about corsets in a general sense, although he’d never seen one put on or taken off. He had, however, seen ladies approaching him with nothing but a corset on—not a memory he particularly cherished. He quickly pushed the recollection aside.

“Come to think of it, did you have breakfast?” Mail asked.

“Not long ago.”

“That’s early of you.”

“I am a bit of an early riser.”

Rohayden rarely slept in; sometimes, he would wake up at dawn to get to work. It was one of the things Banther hated most.

“Then, I give thanks for this daily bread, provided by the earth and the goddess of abundance. Let’s eat.”

She spoke the prayer out loud, carefully enunciating each word, especially “earth.”

“Do you pray before every meal?”

“Why? Are you surprised by my dedication?”

“It just struck me as something usually done diligently by children.”

“…”

Should she feed him a tomato?

Mail didn’t actually pray before every meal; she usually only did so when she felt particularly content and comfortable.

She tilted her head slightly while picking up a nearby plate and placing it on her lap. Was she in that good of a mood? She hadn’t prayed before yesterday’s lunch here. Not that it mattered much.

“You seem like someone who would’ve skipped meal prayers as a kid,” Mail said.

“Why’s that?”

“You don’t look like someone with a lot of innocence. I’d guess you were pure until about three, at most?”

“Well, now.”

Rohayden laughed, showing his neatly arranged teeth. Mail found herself slightly puzzled—how strange that his smile wasn’t annoying today. Previously, no matter why he laughed, she either wanted to hit him or was simply baffled.

‘When did we get this comfortable?’ she thought to herself.

Mail guessed it must be due to a rise in familiarity. With that thought, she tore a piece of bread and ate it, sometimes just on its own, other times with sauce, or topped with a tomato, or even dipped in the soup.

Watching her, Rohayden commented, “You really know how to make the most out of bread.”

“Are you just going to watch me eat the whole time?”

Mail had already polished off one piece of bread as she asked, hinting at whether he had anything better to do.

As someone at the very top of the nation, Rohayden, without a doubt, had more than enough to keep him busy. But he wasn’t eager to leave just yet. Deciding to shorten his break between morning appointments, he put on a casually unoccupied air.

“I don’t usually take up hobbies, but today, I’ll make an exception and observe,” he replied.

“That’s a paid service.”

“Watching someone eat?”

“One million gold.”

A million gold could buy a hundred frilly dresses Riela would die for. Clearly, she was joking, and Rohayden responded without missing a beat.

“Then there’s a seating fee of two million gold.”

“Ugh.”

“I’ll cut it in half, since we’re friends.”

“Oh, what an honor.”

And so, they called it even. Mail smacked her lips, mildly disappointed at having failed to tease him.

Resuming her meal, she reached for the second plate, this time selecting the salad.

Rohayden watched, mildly impressed, as the salad disappeared with a few swift forkfuls, as if it had never been there.

“That’s… pretty fast.”

He had never been interested in how others ate, but this was an exception—it was oddly entertaining. How could she eat so quickly and yet not messily? It seemed almost like a skill.

A few moments later, when Mail polished off the fifth and final plate, Rohayden clapped his hands. His applause came from pure admiration.

Feeling slightly embarrassed at his exaggerated reaction, Mail quickly gathered up the empty plates and put them back in the basket. Rohayden kept clapping until she told him to stop.

“Why the applause?”

“I couldn’t help it—it’s impressive.”

“Is this the first time you’ve seen someone eat like this? Back at the Academy, I wasn’t anything unusual.”

She added, “It feels like I just received a standing ovation for breathing in and out.”

If you were to calculate the amount she ate, it was about 1.5 to 2 times what an average adult man would consume. A physically active man might eat about the same as her. It was a lot, though not to the point of applause, but even so, Rohayden was genuinely amazed. The reason was this.

“Then, have I just seen something unusual all along?”