Chapter 9
After their father died in an accident, the following years were spent just trying to survive. Surrounded by people who wanted to devour not only him but also what remained of his family, Cayente had to grit his teeth to the point of breaking just to endure.
“Oppa, what’s going to happen to us?”
“What do you mean what’s going to happen? Nothing will happen. Right, Oppa?”
With the protective shield suddenly gone, Cayente had to live for his younger sisters who now only looked to him, and for his mother who withered day by day in fear of losing everything. Every minute of his day—mealtime, sleep—was sliced thin, all to protect what his father left behind.
Not for a single moment could he let his guard down.
In such times, Cayente came to hate the word “variable” more than anything else in the world. Now, his company was stable enough to plan new ventures, and even if unexpected things came up, he was capable of handling them. Still, that feeling lingered.
Cayente loathed anything unexpected, unplanned. If even a small thing didn’t go according to plan, memories of that day would flood back, filling him with overwhelming anxiety, as if everything was about to fall apart.
“But… what kind of food do they serve here? Even the restaurant name doesn’t give a clue.”
And now, right before his eyes, Yulia—grown in body but unchanged in every other way—sat herself down as if it were the most natural thing. It was bound to be irritating on many levels.
Cayente had intended to eat early with Henry and return to the office. He had stopped by the boutique only to check the fabrics used at the empire’s most famous place, not to see Yulia.
Yet, here they were. Yulia smiling across from him—an undeniable variable.
“This restaurant serves traditional dishes from the Principality of Esacudia. Their specialty is a pot stew of lamb and assorted vegetables simmered in tomato sauce. I wonder if you’ve tried it before.”
“This is my first time. My father is of Esacudian descent, but his tastes were completely imperial.”
Seemingly unaware of Cayente’s discomfort, Yulia continued chatting with a bright smile.
Choosing fabric together, going to look at a ring—what was so great about that? Sitting face-to-face with a man who wouldn’t even do those simple things, what was there to smile about? She had said she was hungry, but her cheerful mood clearly came from the anticipation of tasting something new and delicious.
So simple.
Though she seemed like she had learned to hide her tears and become an adult, that wasn’t the case.
It wasn’t like their family lacked food—just money. But ever since she was a child, Yulia’s eyes would sparkle excessively at the sight of something tasty. If she brought scones from home, she’d sing all day, and even mid-cry, she’d instantly cheer up in front of food.
Cayente had once made her cry on purpose just to give her candy—because her red, tear-stained nose and that happy smile made her look like she had the whole world. Even back then, her eyes had an upturned, cat-like slant that gave her a sharp look, but in truth, there couldn’t have been a kinder, gentler child.
“Oh, the food’s coming out. Please enjoy your meal, miss.”
“Yes, you too, Mr. Henry. You too, Oppa… enjoy your meal.”
She didn’t seem to remember that he had once teased her on purpose. Then again, if even a trace of such bad memories remained, she wouldn’t look at him now with eyes full of shimmering gold.
Cayente, who had been trying to suppress his resentment just moments ago, now turned his gaze away in exasperation at Yulia, who smiled as if nothing was wrong. She took a spoonful of soup and her eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh? Oh no, this soup is too spicy.”
“Oh dear, is it very spicy? Dishes from the principality do tend to be spicy, so this restaurant might be spicier than most. I didn’t know you couldn’t handle spicy food.”
“I never had anything this spicy. Oppa… are you okay? You grew up in the Empire, too. Are you fine with spicy food because you had it often in the principality?”
Though she smiled at Cayente, she couldn’t hold his gaze for long. As if already bracing herself for another indifferent response from him that might hurt, she looked away quickly. Yet, she asked for water and still checked on Cayente’s state.
Even if her fiancé weren’t him, she would still act like this.
It wasn’t because it was him. Yulia would have tried her best to connect with whoever became her partner. She must have followed him here for a meal he didn’t want because of that same sincerity.
“The Count may seem picky, but he eats anything.”
“I see. That must be why he’s so tall.”
Yulia smiled at Cayente again, though he remained expressionless and quiet. His heart flinched at the affection that lingered in her golden eyes—an affection that should have long disappeared.
“It’s spicy, but it tastes good. I’ll enjoy the meal, Oppa.”
Cayente suddenly wondered—if she ever found out the truth behind this marriage, could she still look at him and smile like that?
Yulia had probably never imagined that someone might use her through marriage. She was the kind of girl who couldn’t easily accept even the simplest truths—that people could have evil intentions, that someone could try to hurt her.
At ten, she had once followed someone who offered her candy. That might’ve been… the most shocking moment in Cayente’s life, had their father not died so suddenly. A moment where he felt the utter helplessness of being powerless.
“The greeting’s enough.”
“I just wanted to say thanks for the clothes, too.”
She still didn’t know. That the world was full of people with bad intentions… and that he might be one of them.
“So even that dress—there’s nothing to thank me for. A countess-to-be can’t be seen in a ragged dress or starving.”
She could’ve just said okay, but instead he had to insist it wasn’t for her. At that, Yulia looked dejected. The air turned cold, and Henry, seated at the next table, quickly stepped in.
“I always tell him to speak more gently, but he’s still like this. He’s dealt with so many con artists in his work, his manner of speaking just changed. Miss, if it’s too spicy, try dipping this bread in the soup. The sweetness will help balance the spice.”
“…Thank you, Mr. Henry.”
Thanks to Henry’s kindness, Yulia forced a smile, but didn’t look at Cayente again. She just tore off a piece of bread and pushed it into her mouth.
She’ll get indigestion like that.
Cayente sighed inwardly, recalling how, as a child, Yulia would look like she was about to cry if she swallowed anything even a little too big.
Why did he keep remembering old, useless memories?
“Oh! Miss, since you’re already here and we’re having a meal together, how about you stop by the Count’s office nearby before you go?”
“Visit the office?”
“It’s very close. You can walk there. Once you’re married, you’ll likely visit often. Why not take a look in advance? You’re not in a rush, are you?”
“I was planning to practice the cello… but I guess it’s not urgent.”
“You play the cello?”
“Proudly, yes—”
