077. Crossing (5)

As Owen’s gaze wavered, Kyle added with a touch of exasperation.

“Wasn’t that exactly the impression you wanted to give off from the start?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“Then congratulations. That’s how everyone sees it.”

Owen’s ears turned a shade of red as he struggled to find the right words, his lips barely moving. Kyle clicked his tongue in amusement.

“Should I call Lady Edelte over? She’d probably love seeing that expression on your face.”

“…No, thanks.”

Rejecting Kyle’s suggestion, Owen rose from his seat, gently cradling the recording orb in its box.

“I’ll get going. See you next time.”

“Sure. I’ll contact you as soon as I locate the ancient grimoire.”

“Alright.”

With a brief farewell, Owen exited Kyle’s office. He walked down the corridor and pressed the button at the elevator. The initial fascination he’d felt at the sight of the magical lift, which reminded him of an elevator, had long since faded.

With a chime, the elevator arrived, and the doors slid open. Owen entered the transparent lift and pressed the button for the first floor.

When he first visited the Mage Tower, the mages had personally guided him around. It happened not just once, but several times. However, after Owen became a frequent visitor and learned his way around, Kyle had told the mages there was no need to provide him an escort. Owen had no objections; he didn’t want to inconvenience anyone.

“Farewell, Your Grace.”

The mages stationed at the entrance now greeted him like the guards at his own estate. At first, they had looked at him with surprise, but now they offered a courteous farewell.

“Thank you.”

Owen replied briefly before heading toward the waiting carriage. The coachman, who had been resting, straightened up, opened the door, and Owen climbed inside, settling into his seat as the carriage began moving.

Watching the scenery pass by outside, Owen noticed the early autumn trees beginning to transform, their green leaves turning shades of red and yellow.

‘It’s been six months already.’

Since arriving in this world in April, six months had passed, with two seasons gone and a third just beginning.

Likewise, it had been three seasons since he started spending time with Lucia.

‘If we see the winter together, that will be a full cycle of seasons.’

The thought struck him suddenly. Spending the winter with Lucia would mean they had shared a full year together. Although he intended to stay by her side indefinitely, this realization filled him with a new, tender feeling, making him slightly giddy.

‘The engagement is in October… Marriage would be suitable sometime next year, I suppose.’

A winter wedding wouldn’t be ideal. There should be a gap between engagement and marriage, and winter was simply too cold. Holding a wedding in the chill would make everyone, especially Lucia, suffer from the cold. Besides, a winter honeymoon destination would be limited.

‘Maybe spring would be nice. Or perhaps summer.’

Since the engagement ceremony was set quickly, the preparations were limited. Being from the prestigious Verdun and Edelte families, they were doing all they could to make it grand in the short time available. Yet, if there were more time, it could undoubtedly be even more splendid. This thought made him resolved to make the wedding even grander.

‘With a wedding in the summer, we’d have plenty of time to plan.’

Lost in these musings, Owen gazed out the carriage window. By then, they had passed through the capital’s gates and entered the city. The atmosphere inside the capital was entirely different from outside, a fact that still fascinated him.

As they passed through the bustling streets, he tapped lightly on the carriage wall.

“Stop for a moment.”

At Owen’s words, the carriage smoothly pulled to the side. The coachman quickly descended to open the door.

“Please wait here.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

After instructing the coachman to wait, Owen stepped out and walked toward a shop labeled “White Bakery.” It was a bakery known for its bread and various desserts and had appeared in ‘The Flower of the Empire’ as one of Bella’s favorite spots. Her frequent visits had made it famous.

Initially, it was a shop run by a commoner, and thus it was patronized mostly by common folk and affluent civilians. But thanks to Bella, it gained a reputation even among the nobility.

‘It seems to be a recent establishment. I don’t recall seeing it before.’

The reason for Owen’s sudden stop was straightforward.

Owen had stopped at ‘White Bakery’ because it was a place he recognized from the original story.

‘Of course, Bella only discovered this place after she came to the capital, having spent her life outside of it until then.’

In the story, Bella lived outside the capital until she became a saintess. Given her background, it made sense that her favorite shop had only recently come into her life.

‘Though now, Bella doesn’t seem particularly interested.’

That, of course, was in the original story. The current Bella wasn’t the same as before. She might not even remember *White Bakery*, and if she did, it was unlikely to mean anything to her now.

“Welcome… Oh! D-Duke Verdun!”

As Owen entered, a staff member looked at him in shock. Apparently, the recognition was immediate, based solely on his hair color and eye shade.

“What brings you to our bakery, Your Grace…?”

“I came to buy a cake.”

“A… cake. The cakes are over here.”

The employee’s voice trembled, a mix of nerves and awe. Owen was accustomed to such reactions by now; people still found him intimidating. Even the mages at the Mage Tower had been visibly shaken when they first saw him.

“I’ll take a strawberry cake.”

The reason Owen had chosen ‘White Bakery’, despite it not being one of Lucia’s preferred shops, was simple. The bakery was renowned in social circles for its strawberry cake. Bella’s patronage and the unmatched quality of their strawberry cakes had made it popular enough to expand and hire more staff.

The key fact was that *White Bakery* was known for its strawberry cakes—and Lucia loved strawberries. The thought had struck him suddenly: he should bring her one of these cakes.

“Of course. The total comes to…”

Owen reached into his inner pocket for some cash. Unlike establishments frequented by nobility, where a signature would suffice, shops popular among commoners required cash payments.

Fortunately, Owen always carried a bit of cash for such occasions. The problem, however…

“If you’re paying in gold, I’m afraid I won’t have enough change.”

All Owen had was gold coins. The employee nervously held out the gold piece, clearly reluctant to take it.

“No need for change.”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be right…”

The employee was insistent. It was evident that he was both honest and principled. With a slight sigh, Owen glanced over at the cake display, which was magically cooled. Inside were seven remaining cakes.

“I’ll take all of them, then.”

“Even so, it’s still too much…”

It seemed the total still didn’t match the gold coin’s value. Owen frowned thoughtfully, then turned to survey the other baked goods on display—bread, baguettes, sandwiches, tarts, and waffles filled the shelves.

“Add everything over there as well.”

“All of it…?”

“Yes, all of it. Is it still not enough?”

“Oh, no! This is more than enough. But… what will you do with all of it?”

The kindhearted employee seemed worried that Owen might waste the bread, likely fearing the sight of their hard-baked goods going to waste. The staff here consisted of just two people—a husband and wife duo—so the concern was understandable.

“I plan to send it to orphanages. There are three orphanages in the capital, aren’t there? I thought I’d donate the rest to them.”

The mention of orphanages brightened the employee’s face instantly. No longer worried about wasted bread, he seemed happy at the thought of it going to children in need.

“We’ll handle the delivery to the orphanages, Your Grace!”

“Are you sure it’s no trouble?”

“Not at all! We’ve just finished for the day, so it’d be our pleasure to help with such a good cause.”

“Very well.”

Owen nodded in agreement, not refusing their help. The employee, now humming happily, set aside the gold coin, carefully wrapped up a strawberry cake, and handed it over.

“The remaining cakes will be sent to the orphanages, as you wish. Though… it seems there’s one cake short for a full batch.”

Owen pointed at a whipped cream cake.

“I’ll take that one as well.”

“As you wish, Your Grace. I’m sure your fiancée will be pleased—a gift from her own fiancé.”

“…The news has traveled this far?”

“Of course! Who doesn’t know about the Verdun and Edelte families? Every citizen of the empire knows, Your Grace.”

It was mildly discomforting. Not only was his appearance easily recognizable, but word of his personal affairs had spread throughout the empire as well.

‘It’s as if I’m a celebrity or something…’

Owen clicked his tongue inwardly, lamenting his situation. But there was nothing to be done; this was the life he would have to navigate moving forward.

“Word travels fast.”

“Rumors fly without wings, as they say.”

The employee, finishing his packing, handed Owen two cake boxes. Owen carefully identified which one held the strawberry cake and which the whipped cream cake before taking them.

Leaving ‘White Bakery’, Owen returned to the waiting carriage and handed the boxed whipped cream cake to the coachman.

“Take this.”

“Th-Thank you, Your Grace. But… what is this?”

“A cake. Didn’t you once mention that your wife enjoys it?”

“You remembered that…?”

The coachman looked at Owen in surprise. Owen nodded curtly. As his designated coachman, this man had accompanied Owen on various outings, and over time, they had grown familiar. In the beginning, the coachman had kept a fearful distance, but as they grew closer, he had become more comfortable, even sharing bits of his life with Owen.

It was likely the coachman shared these stories partly to fill the silence and partly because he knew Owen actually listened. One story in particular had stayed with him—the time his coachman had mentioned splurging on a whipped cream cake from a famous bakery for his wife’s birthday.

“My wife will be delighted. I’ll tell her it’s from Your Grace.”

“No need. It’ll mean more coming from you.”

The end of that story had been rather heartwarming.

– My wife was overjoyed, Your Grace. She said she’d never tasted whipped cream cake so delicious before.