Chapter 47

“I don’t know if it’s just my imagination, but Ryan seems to have become quieter since then. He used to stick by my side so much it was almost annoying, but now he’s nowhere to be seen.”

Daphne spoke with a very gloomy face.

“Maybe he was disappointed when he found out my bloodline isn’t that pure.”

“…….”

“To be honest, I kind of regret telling him.”

“My Lady, I think you’re misunderstanding.”

Marianne gently lifted Daphne’s limp hand and comforted her.

“As you know, Sir Knight is truly a good person. No matter what your late mother’s status was, no matter your bloodline, I don’t think he’s someone who would make a big deal out of such superficial things.”

“…….”

“Think about it. If he cared about such things, he wouldn’t have come here in the first place. Why would someone who worked in big cities like Roxanne come to a small place like Hillsboro?”

“Well… that’s true.”

Listening to Marianne’s words, Daphne nodded. Marianne’s convincing words gave her a small glimmer of hope.

“I’m trying my best making this.”

Daphne looked down at the batter she was stirring. It wasn’t even baked yet, but the sweet smell was already tickling her nose.

“I hope Ryan likes it.”

Her endlessly dark expression brightened a little.

* * *

Knock, knock.

A calm knock sounded behind him.

The door wasn’t completely closed, just slightly ajar. Even so, the knock was meant to make the person inside aware of someone’s presence.

Ryan turned his body to look at the door. Daphne stood there, holding something in her hands.

“Um, may I come in?”

Daphne whispered, peeking through the crack in the door as she checked the situation inside. Ryan looked at her with a somewhat dull gaze.

“Ryan?”

When there was no reply, Daphne tilted her head and called his name.

Ryan took a slow, deep breath. Even though most of Daphne’s figure was hidden behind the door, he could vividly picture how eager she was to come in.

Sitting still like a statue, Ryan quietly spoke.

“Of course. Please come in.”

As soon as he granted permission, Daphne swung the door open wide.

“I brought some cake. It’s pound cake I made this morning, but I’m not sure if you’ll like it.”

Daphne entered the room and placed the plate she’d brought in front of Ryan. It was a plain white plate, with a somewhat rough-looking square piece of cake on it.

“I know you don’t really like sweets, so I didn’t put much sugar in it. Just try a bite.”

“……Did you make this, Miss Sinclair?”

Ryan stared at the cake in front of him and asked.

“Did you make this yourself?”

“Why? Are you worried I put something weird in it?”

Daphne teased, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t worry. Marianne was watching me the whole time.”

“…….”

“Don’t just stare at it. Try at least a bite.”

Seeing Ryan hesitate to touch the cake, Daphne finally placed the fork in his hand herself.

“…….”

Ryan held the fork awkwardly, as if it was his first time. He stared at the cake for a long time with a strange expression, then slowly moved his hand.

The fork sliced through the cake smoothly. When he put a piece in his mouth, a rich butter aroma and a faint citrus scent spread instantly.

“How is it? Do you like it?”

Ryan chewed silently, his mouth closed. Daphne watched his expression carefully and quietly asked again.

“Ryan, how does it taste?”

“…It’s delicious.”

Ryan swallowed the food completely before answering.

“It’s very good. I think it might be the best cake I’ve ever tasted.”

“What? The best…?”

Daphne’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at Ryan’s much higher praise than she expected.

But soon, her wide-open eyes narrowed. She shook her head slowly, as if she couldn’t believe him.

“No way, that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Exaggeration?”

“Yes. Unless this is the first cake you’ve ever eaten, there’s no way that’s true. It’s not anything special, just a pound cake made from a basic recipe in a regular cookbook.”

At Daphne’s remark, Ryan hesitated, unable to find a rebuttal.

The first cake he’d ever eaten? That was nonsense.

He might be pretending to be a mere knight here, but his true identity was Duke McClift—a so-called ‘noble among nobles.’

Even on the battlefield, he ate course meals, and he’d tasted everything from desserts prepared by royal chefs to tiny, extravagant desserts worth their weight in gold. He was very accustomed to eating high-quality, expensive food.

Compared to all that, the pound cake in front of him was…

So Ryan himself couldn’t understand it. He’d never felt much from those luxurious desserts, so why did this rough, simple cake taste so good?

Especially when it was made by Daphne’s inexperienced hands.

“Why did you suddenly make something like this?”

Ryan asked.

“Didn’t you dislike cooking, Miss Sinclair?”

“Dislike it? No, I don’t dislike it—I just have no talent for it.”

Daphne lifted her chin slightly, proudly admitting her flaw.

“You seemed down lately. You’ve been talking less and not smiling much… So I thought I’d make this to cheer you up.”

“…….”

“You know the old saying: when you’re feeling down, eat something delicious.”

“So you made this just for me?”

Ryan listened and asked slowly.

“Because you were worried I looked tired?”

“Well, partly. I wanted something sweet myself, too.”

Daphne waved her hand as if it was nothing, clearing her throat. Still, she was obviously embarrassed, her cheeks prettily flushed as she looked away.

“…….”

Ryan looked down at the cake she’d given him once more.

A warm feeling spread through his chest. His emotions tangled together—he felt happy, grateful, bitter, and a little sad all at once.

At that moment, he couldn’t quite put his feelings into words.

It was truly ironic.

He was drawn to Daphne, yet troubled by her background, while she, knowing nothing, worried about him with pure sincerity.

Had anyone ever cared about him so genuinely, regardless of status, rank, or family?

Ryan sat silently, staring at the cake, then slowly began to eat. The fork moved between his mouth and the plate. The cake quickly disappeared from the plate.

“I thought you didn’t really like desserts, but maybe I was wrong.”

Daphne was surprised at how enthusiastically Ryan ate the cake, sticking her tongue out in amazement.

“If I’d known you liked it this much, I would’ve made it for you sooner.”

She scratched her cheek and mumbled, a satisfied smile gradually spreading on her face. She looked a bit shy, but also confident, her expression bright and radiant.

“I’ll make it for you often from now on.”

She promised, almost singing.

* * *

Daphne’s worries were unfounded—Ryan’s condition improved quickly. He hovered around her again, teased her playfully, and sometimes laughed at her silly jokes.

At a glance, he seemed no different than before. But Daphne knew he hadn’t fully recovered.

Even though he’d improved, he talked less, stared blankly out the window or got lost in thought more often, and spent longer outside, saying he was scouting the area.

She felt he was keeping his distance from her.

Whenever Daphne asked if something was wrong, he would just brush it off, saying it was nothing.

“Men are always like that.”

Marianne comforted the anxious Daphne.

“Sometimes they just want space for no particular reason, and keep their distance. If you try to pressure them or tie them down, it’ll backfire. Instead, you have to let them go free, give them time to sort out their thoughts alone.”