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Chapter 62

"...."
Now I understood why ‌‌‌this tea's fragrance felt so familiar.
"Sniff sniff."
It was identical to the tea and aroma unique to the Lockhart Family that I had often drunk at my ancestral home when I was young.
Those tea leaves that could no longer be produced since the tea trees at the ancestral ‌‌‌home had withered away.
"How could that Scholar possibly have this...."

* * *

Dale's expression was subtly furrowed as he arrived after obtaining the retired author's address.
"...." ‌‌‌
This was precisely the Saloe Territory.
That village Dale and Enya had visited before.
And exactly ‌‌‌'that' House.
The door stood open as if ‌‌‌someone had stepped out briefly, and there was ‌‌no one inside.
It was quite a large house for two people to manage alone, yet it appeared no Servant was employed.
When he had come ‌before, this House had been filled ‌with books.
Most of them were volumes by Madame Cozette, the author Enya adored, and Dale remembered every single one.
For Dale, an unfamiliar place meant anything but a comfortable one, so he habitually kept his senses sharp at every ‌‌‌‌moment. Because of this, he remembered most of what was here.
And this House had been somewhat suspicious.
At that time, Dale had been served tea from the Lockhart Family.
It was identical to the fragrance of the tea that the Marquis House's wife had offered him during a visit to the Marquis House ‌‌‌when he was young.
It was the first warm tea young Dale had ever tasted, and the only clean and sweetly fragrant tea he had ever experienced.
That aroma and memory remained deeply embedded in his recollections, impossible to forget.
Yet that man possessed it.
Or rather, not a ‌‌man....
"We have a visitor?"
A woman, then.
Dale recognized who this woman was immediately.
Enya ‌‌‌resembled ‌‌the Duke, and this woman resembled Enya. The implication was unmistakable.
"It is an honor to meet you."
Dale, fixing his gaze upon her, spoke her name.
"The previous Duke Lockhart's daughter."

* * *

"It was around here, wasn't it? Yes, ‌‌that's the ‌‌‌house!"
Since I had visited only a few days ago, I found it ‌‌‌‌without difficulty.
But the house door ‌‌was wide open.
And the woman I could see?
She seemed to be the wife of that Scholar I had met before. Since ‌‌he had said all the books were his wife's ‌‌‌collection, it seemed she shared my taste in literature.
"Over there...!"
Just as I was about to call out to her, the door shut.
Well, there's nothing for it. I'll just go knock and introduce myself. Let me hurry.
I raised my hand to knock on the door when I heard a strange voice.
Rather than strange, it was a familiar voice?
"A man?"
It wasn't the Scholar's voice.
A Servant, perhaps? Though I thought he said there were no Servants at the time.
His wife apparently didn't ‌‌care for outsiders coming and going...
'Should ‌‌I come back another time?'
But I was ‌‌curious.
The fact ‌‌‌‌that someone possessed a carriage bearing our family crest meant they likely had some connection to our House—either from long ago or an ongoing one to the present.
'It could be someone sent by the Emperor or our family.'
I ‌needed to confirm.
"...searching for..."
When I pressed my ear to the door, I heard the man's voice again. And somehow, I recognized it.
"Dale?"
Knock knock.
The thought struck me, and my hand moved forward ‌‌of its own accord.
The door wasn't locked, and it swung open the moment I turned the handle.
And there before me stood Dale—someone who had no reason to be here.
More precisely, Dale and another woman together.
"Are you perhaps...?"
Though I had never seen her face before, the moment I laid eyes on her, something struck me.
"My aunt?"
My ‌Father with long hair.

* * *

"We have quite a few visitors today, don't we?"
A woman who looked identical to Father—my aunt—spoke with a smile.
It ‌was a smile that bore a striking resemblance to the Scholar I had seen before.
Now that I thought about it, that Scholar we had helped was none other ‌‌than my aunt's husband, the very person who had driven Grandfather into such ‌‍‌a fury over their marriage across class lines.
"I didn't think you'd recognize me, Enya. I thought so much time had passed that you wouldn't remember."
"...Have you been well?"
Even as I tried to speak naturally, my voice trembled ‌‌with nervousness.
Just as she said, I had no memory of my aunt's face. This was our first real meeting.
I had heard she had fled the House when I was very young, and my aunt had become almost like a legendary figure in family lore.
Meeting her in person was fascinating, and perhaps because of how much she resembled Father, I felt no sense of distance—only the warmth of family.
"We used to ‌‌‌play together often when you were little. Don't you remember?"
My aunt smiled brightly.
"But Aunt..."
"Just call me Aunt. Yes, what is it?" ‌‌‌
I glanced at Dale with my eyes.
Why was ‌‌Dale here?
Did Dale already know my aunt? From ‌‌‌the atmosphere, it didn't seem that way.
"So you and this person know each other, Enya."
My aunt, noticing my confusion, ‌‌spoke with an amused smile.
"Which one of you should I hear from first? Should I let you two talk?"
"Dale, what are you doing here?"
I asked Dale directly.
Dale's face grew troubled, and he released an awkward sigh. He moved his lips slowly.
"I thought an item Miss Enya wished to obtain might be here."
"...? What were you trying to steal?"
That didn't seem like something Dale would do.
At my question, a soft, deflating laugh escaped.
My ‌‌aunt laughed heartily with delight.
"It's not that—he came ‌‌to find a book."
My aunt rested her chin on her hand and looked at ‌‌‌‌Dale.
"Dale, was it? You said you liked my books, and you came to ask about publishing the next volume of an unfinished series."
My aunt, smiling meaningfully, curved her lips upward.
"For a male fan, your attitude seemed rather dry, but now I see—you came to find a book to give to her."
"Your aunt's books?"
The family members rarely spoke well of ‌‌‌my aunt. ‌‌‌Whenever the topic arose, Grandfather would grow furious and show signs of collapse.
"Yes, these books."
My aunt pointed to the bookshelf.
Every book lined up there was written by Madame Cozette.
Could it ‌be...
Surely not...
"Is ‌‌‌this a ‌‌‌book written by Aunt?" ‌‌
My ‌‌‌‌eyes felt like they might pop out of my head.
This person standing before me with such a delighted smile, this person connected to me by blood—was she the author?
"Really?"
I stared ‌‌‌‌at Dale with my mouth agape.
"Dale, is Madame Cozette really our aunt?" ‌‌‌
Instead of Dale, my aunt suddenly thrust a notebook at me.
"There are plenty of unfinished notes in here too."
The moment I saw the worn notebook, there was no room for doubt.
It contained notes recording brief story ideas, revised dialogue, conversations with publishers—all the hallmarks of a ‌‌novelist's work.
While it was true that novelists often used pen names.
I never would have guessed it was someone so completely unexpected.
"How did you find out, Dale?"
"I purchased the information from an acquaintance."
It was impressive intelligence work, but Dale came from a mercenary background. In that sense, it was only natural that he had access to quality information.
"But ‌‌‌‌‌why... were you trying to give it to me? You love romance novels yourself, don't you, Dale?"
"...It was a gift for you, Enya."
Dale answered straightforwardly without denying it.
"You went to all the trouble of uncovering Madame Cozette's identity just for a gift for me?"
I couldn't help but be even more surprised by his answer. ‌‌There was no particular reason for Dale to give me a gift.
"Your ‌‌‌question is a bit odd, but why did you want to give me a gift?"
"Well, Enya, your birthday is only about a month away."
The answer came unexpectedly from my aunt.
"Ah...!"
Now that I thought about it, time had already passed that quickly. That meant it had been about six months since Dale and I began our married life. ‌‌‌‌
"You remembered my birthday?"
I was newly amazed by Dale's thoughtful tenderness.
To think he had been planning a gift for me a whole month in advance.
And not just any gift, but one that was the most ‌‌‌‌difficult to obtain and required ‌‌‌‌such careful consideration of me to even conceive of.
Dale's face, caught in embarrassment, curved into a faint smile. ‌‌‌
"Of course, I hadn't planned to give you only the book."
"The book is enough. No, it's more moving than anything else could be right now."
My heart truly trembled with emotion.
I never knew Dale cared about my birthday with such sincerity. Compared to him, I felt I had been far too thoughtless.
I ‌never could have imagined that he had come here for the reason of finding a birthday gift for me.
I squeezed Dale's ‌‌‌‌hand tightly.
"Don't prepare anything else. I already feel like I've received more than enough."
As our hands touched, Dale's body temperature rose immediately. He gazed at me with his brow slightly furrowed.

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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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