FTP-87

A smile naturally spread across Anje’s lips.

 

‘So this is what it feels like to be loved by someone.’

 

She had always wished to be loved by someone, but she had never known what it truly felt like. Now, she thought she understood. And she wanted to return that feeling to Aiden.

 

“I’m sorry, I must have bothered you while you were sleeping.”

 

He apologized as he covered her with the blanket. Then, as he was about to get up, Anje stopped him by holding onto his hand.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“To my ro…”

 

He paused after hearing Anje’s words and realized the hidden meaning behind them, so he closed his mouth.

 

“Is it okay if you don’t go to your room?”

 

Anje didn’t say anything, but she pulled his hand. Her ears were burning.

 

‘I’m so glad the moon hasn’t risen tonight.’

 

If it had, her red face would have been exposed in the moonlight. Her expression would surely have looked foolish.

 

Aiden laid down beside her, still holding her hand. The breath from his close proximity was warm.

 

“Is this okay, Anje?”

 

Anje wasn’t sure what he was asking permission for, but she nodded stiffly. She wanted to do whatever he wished.

 

Aiden gently pulled her into his arms and whispered,

 

“I won’t do anything that scares you or makes you uncomfortable. So, you don’t need to be so tense.”

 

His throat was dry from thirst, but he didn’t want to startle her. He wanted to approach slowly, carefully, and gently.

 

He buried his face in her shoulder and whispered. Even though he often said it, he still felt it was not enough to fully express his feelings.

 

“I like you so much, Anje.”

 

“…I like you too.”

 

The answer he had wanted to hear came. He forgot all his fears and worries, and brought his lips to hers once more.

 

No matter what else, this night belonged to them alone.

 

TL/N: HEHEHEHEHE, SMILING & KICKING MY FEET LIKE A DORK.

 

* * *

 

A shabby-looking man explained with a hiccup.

 

“Well, how should I put it, she was unique but had a certain charm, you know? The charm, you know what I mean?”

 

“Yes, yes. You mentioned that earlier.”

 

Thompson, the informant employed by the Glasster Duke’s family, almost sighed in frustration but managed to hold it in. Although his informant was a drunken beggar, he was the only source of information about Nancy Dilton.

 

‘No matter what information I give, the Duke won’t even blink an eye.’

 

He gritted his teeth while reviewing the information he had gathered so far. The subject of his investigation, Aiden Fitzroy’s grandfather, was a typical farmer who had run a solid farm passed down through generations and only moved to Leslie twenty years ago, with no other noteworthy details.

 

The only slightly unique individual was his daughter, Nancy Dilton. After tracing various bits of information, he found out that she had studied art right here in Rodmandy.

 

‘My instincts told me there’s something here.’

 

After a long search in neighboring countries, he regrettably discovered that the art studio where she had worked as an apprentice had long since shut down. Other artists who had worked with her or the master who taught her had already left for different regions, making it hard to trace them.

 

Besides, it had been a long time since she studied art here. Among so many artists, no one would remember an artist who had lived here for a few years and then disappeared.

 

“She was really nice, you know.”

 

“I see.”

 

Thompson responded dully, refilling the beggar’s empty mug. The only person who seemed to remember her was this old beggar living on the street, who said she sometimes shared bread and soup with him.

 

“But, the girl didn’t have much luck with men.”

 

The man gulped down his beer and let out a big burp. Thompson, though grimacing, dutifully asked.

 

“Men?”

 

“Yeah, well, one day, a man started showing up now and then… He was scary.”

 

The beggar trembled as he recalled the memory and fiddled with the empty plate in front of him. Thompson ordered another plate of food. Damn beggar, he was trying to eat everything he could get his hands on.

 

“He always wore a black cloak, you know. Like a criminal. Someone who must’ve killed someone and was on the run, or something like that. I only made eye contact with him once, but his eyes were as red as a ghost.”

 

Thompson awkwardly laughed. The beggar probably saw the late emperor, who had an affair with Nancy Dilton. If it was him, he wouldn’t have openly visited a commoner’s house.

 

It was probably for the best that the beggar didn’t realize he was insulting the neighboring county’s imperial family.

 

‘But it’s surprising that the two met here?’

 

Since both of them were from the empire, Thompson had assumed they would have met there, perhaps by chance during a visit to the territory or something similar.

 

He took out his notebook and wrote down the newly discovered information.

 

「Lady D and His Majesty met in Rodmandy and had an affair.」

 

It seemed like trivial information, but he had to fill out the report with something. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to charge the Duke for his work.

 

“Anything else unusual?”

 

“Nope. She was a good girl, I tell you.”

 

Thompson felt deflated. After all, how much could a drunken old man who had been drinking until he got a red nose remember about the past from decades ago?

 

“I see. Thank you for your time. Here’s the payment.”

 

He handed the beggar a few gold coins and closed his notebook with a snap.

 

This commission was a bust, a real bust. It was better to track down the artist who had taught Nancy Dilton. At least with the art school, there was still a chance he could make a connection.

 

The beggar fiddled with the coins in his hand, greed flickered in his feeble eyes.

 

“Ah, right. I almost forgot to mention this.”

 

Thompson, who had fallen off the chair earlier, quickly sat back down.

 

“What were you going to say?”

 

“I once overheard them arguing near the door. They were talking about… what was it… my memory’s a little foggy with my age…sigh…”

 

The beggar jingled the coins in his hand, clearly showing off. Thompson, annoyed, pulled out a few more coins and handed them to him.

 

This crafty old man. He must have deliberately saved this crucial information until the end, hoping to get more out of him once his patience had worn thin.

 

Seeing the gold coins in his hand, the beggar grinned.

 

“Oh, yeah. They were arguing about a fraudulent marriage or something. The guy seemed to have tricked her into some secret marriage.”

 

Thompson dropped the pen he had been holding.

 

“A marriage?”

 

That was a word he had never expected to hear during his investigation into Nancy Dilton.

 

A marriage? Could it be…?

 

‘It wasn’t just a one-night affair after all?’

 

* * *

 

“Where is the jar, Lady?”

 

“……”

 

“Lady? Mrs. Fitzroy?”

 

“……”

 

“Hmm, madam?”

 

“Ah, yes. What did you just say?”

 

Lost in her thoughts, Anje stammered as she asked, unable to hear Meg’s words. Meg chuckled softly and playfully pinched her cheek.

 

“Where might the jar for pickles be, madam?”

 

“Madam? Aunty! Why are you being so forward?”

 

“Well, now that you’ve become accustomed to holding a kitchen knife, you could be called madam without issue.”

 

Moreover, with the baby soon to arrive, calling her madam would feel more natural. Meg received the jar Anje handed her with a knowing smile.

 

TL/N: LOL. AUNT MEG IS MY SPIRIT ANIMAL.

 

While tidying up the room, she had naturally learned that the young couple was now sharing the same room. It was exactly as she had hoped when preparing the wedding night at the inn.

 

“It would be nice if she had black hair and green eyes.”

 

“Huh? What?”

 

“Ehem, never mind. If it’s all washed, we can fill it now.”

 

Holding herself back from prying into the young couple’s private matters, Meg tried to maintain her composure. Of course, she had already made sure to knit socks and bibs for the baby without leaving any gaps.

 

“There’s a lot; do you think it will all fit?”

 

“Of course, if we press it down, it’ll all fit.”

 

On the counter, neatly peeled radishes and beets, cucumbers scrubbed with coarse salt, and cut into bite-sized pieces were ready.

 

Anje and Meg carefully placed the prepared vegetables into two or three sterilized jars. They were packed so full that it was hard to close the lids.

“Now, we pour the brine we prepared earlier over this.”

 

The brine was made by boiling water with various spices, such as bay leaves, cinnamon, pepper, mustard seeds, along with salt, sugar, and vinegar. After pouring the brine in and sealing the lids before the water cooled, it would be done.

 

Anje’s face glowed as brightly as the freshly made pickles, happy to know that after leaving them in a cool place for a day, they would be ready to eat.

 

At this point, she felt confident that she could easily make them without any help from Meg or Aiden.

 

“It really is simple.”

 

“Right? It’s easy to make and you can store it for a long time. Plus, when you look at all the jars of pickles lined up in the pantry, it feels like you’re rich.”

 

“I think I know what that feeling is like.”

 

She also felt the same sense of abundance when seeing her jars of homemade jam neatly lined up.

 

“I can’t wait to try them. Since you helped me, I’ll give you a jar.”

 

“Oh, we already have too many at home. It’s hard to eat them all by myself.”

 

“Still, I want to give you something in return…”

“Well then, come visit us tomorrow, and I’ll let you try the onion pickles I made. How about it?”

 

“Sounds good— Ah.”

 

Anje stopped abruptly, as she was about to respond with a cheerful answer.

 

“I’ll ask Aiden first.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

Since Aiden usually agreed to anything she wanted, it was rare for her to check with him like this. Meg, looking puzzled, waited for Anje’s explanation, hoping it didn’t sound strange.

 

“These days, Aiden doesn’t really like going out.”

 

Meg squinted her eyes and let out a strange “Oh.”

 

“They say late-learned habits are the hardest to break.”

 

Ah, so he just wants to spend some alone time with her. Well, that’s understandable.

 

She wanted to tease the shy new bride, but as a dignified member of the ladies’ association, she could not do so. Meg firmly suppressed her impulse.

 

* * * *

 

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