NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 60
“Haaaa….”
How many sighs have I let out now? I exhaled a deep breath as if I couldn’t stop—even though I knew I should.
“Uh, miss, would you like a cookie?”
“Mm, thanks, Bonita…”
Her energy completely drained, she nodded; and before long, a bowl of cookies, neatly piled on the table, was set down.
I recognized the aroma immediately. Surely these were, once again, incredibly delicious chocolate chip cookies.
But somehow… they seem to be getting more to my taste.
At the same moment, I recalled telling Bonita—almost in passing—that I preferred cookies loaded with large chocolate chips. Yet, lately, haven’t the cookies been getting even more chocolate chips? Or am I just imagining things?
“Delicious.”
“I also brought some vanilla ice cream. Please, try it.”
The ice cream, speckled with vanilla beans, sent out chilly puffs of vapor as I took a spoonful, releasing a rich, intense flavor that filled my mouth.
It seems your skills are improving by leaps and bounds.
I don’t recall ever tasting desserts made so well when I first arrived at the Grand Duke’s residence. When did that change occur? It seems like a remarkable transformation took place ever since I complimented that dessert in the capital last time.
Perhaps not only the Grand Duke, but everyone here must be hard-working workaholics? Yet, is it really necessary to go to such lengths just for someone like me—a mere customer?
It must be a coincidence, right?
Before I knew it, the ice cream was gone. With a tinge of regret, I set my spoon down and addressed Bonita:
“Be sure to thank the chef for me.”
“Ah, this wasn’t made by the chef.”
“Eh? Then?”
“Remember when you visited the palace last time and raved about the ice cream?”
“Mm… yes, that’s right.”
What? Something felt off. And sure enough, what Bonita said next completely left me speechless.
“That’s why Mr. Riam was commissioned—to secure the main pâtissier from the dessert vendor you enjoyed!”
“…Re-really?”
“Yes! And, incidentally, His Grace the Grand Duke himself asked that I bring this to you.”
Finishing his words, Bonita handed me something.
“This is…”
It was a neatly folded memo—so pretty that even upside down it looked elegant.
With trembling hands, I unfolded it. Inside was a brief note:
「
– Additional labor cost: 3.2 million Tri per month
※ Withdrawable within one week」
I couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh upon reading it.
“Ha, haha…”
What isn’t a salary system these days?
It felt as though moisture was gathering in my eyes. I quickly crumpled the paper and shoved it into my pocket.
Even if it claimed the decision was revocable, having already tasted that dessert once, I wasn’t inclined to agree lightly.
I’ll just pay for it. And then, I’ll demand that they make desserts every day.
They say money can’t buy happiness—but in this case, that might not be entirely true. But then…
“Wait a minute.”
Come to think of it, that pâtissier isn’t going to make desserts just for me, is he? He’ll probably prepare them for the Grand Duke’s meals too, right?
Unfair deal.
A surge of indignation finally began to well up inside me.
“Ah, miss?”
“I must go to the Grand Duke immediately.”
At my firm declaration, Bonita’s mouth fell open in surprise.
“Uh, then you should send a message first…!”
I knew it was proper etiquette to notify before visiting.
But considering everything—especially since the Grand Duke has already made several unscheduled visits—it was time for me to show, in no uncertain terms, that I was furious.
“No, I’ll just go by myself.”
I stuffed the remaining cookies into my mouth and made my way toward the Grand Duke’s office.
Knock, knock, knock!
…Though instead of barging in, I ended up knocking rather inadvertently.
“Ahem, ahem.”
“Come in.”
Soon enough, the Grand Duke’s voice resonated.
I opened the door, my face set in an expression that betrayed nothing of my inner turmoil.
What was truly vexing was that despite this abrupt visit, the Grand Duke sat impeccably—untouched and perfectly composed—as he greeted me.
Perhaps it was his stable sleep ensured by blackout curtains, or the way he had resolved the comic book distribution issues with Ambrose’s upper management. Whatever the reason, he exuded a relaxed air, and even his appearance had regained its former stature.
“So, what’s the matter?”
Before I knew it, as I found myself mesmerized by the Grand Duke’s countenance, a puzzled voice emerged.
I expected him to chide me for showing up unannounced, yet his tone suggested he had anticipated it all along.
I crossed my arms and, in a gruff tone, shouted, “This is just too much!”
“What do you mean by ‘too much’?”
“This.”
I pulled the crumpled memo from my pocket as if to prove I had been waiting, and the Grand Duke nonchalantly shrugged.
“Didn’t I ask you before?”
“Ask me what…?”
“Whether you liked the dessert that Mr. Riam brought.”
“Th-that is…”
It was true. I couldn’t deny what had happened.
I racked my creaking neck and nodded.
“And he even asked if you’d like to have it every day at the Grand Duke’s residence.”
That was also true.
But seriously—who in their right mind would take that as an offer of employment?
And that I was expected to bear the entire cost? I never imagined.
“But still, this is far too expensive.”
3.2 million Tri per month.
Even for a professional pâtissier, that monthly wage was nothing to scoff at when annualized.
In response, the Grand Duke loosely folded his arms.
“Originally, the employment cost is 35 million Tri, and the amount you’re responsible for is just one-tenth of that.”
Hearing his words—as if he’d already given me a substantial discount—I was left speechless.
Oh, so that’s how it is?
It isn’t as egregious a deal as I feared, then?
Of course, I wondered whether it was even right for me—a mere customer (and lodger)—to foot the bill for the pâtissier hired by the Grand Duke. But since my share in the dessert was quite significant, I couldn’t object any further.
“If it really doesn’t suit you, I’ll arrange that henceforth the princess receives desserts made by someone else instead of that pâtissier.”
“Really?”
“Since it’s too late to fire him now, I intend to issue an access ban so that the princess can’t have any contact with his desserts.”
I nearly couldn’t believe my ears.
Really?
Could he truly be that ruthless?
I wanted to ask, but the Grand Duke’s infuriatingly composed expression and his readiness to issue orders if I pressed me made me hold back.
Perhaps if I trembled with anger, it might please him—does such a rule even exist?
Or is the Grand Duke under some bizarre curse that makes him delight in dampening others’ moods!
…At that thought, I sighed softly.
“Phew, alright. Besides, I’ve got mountains of other worries right now.”
“Worries?”
At the mention of “worries,” a question immediately flew out.
“Ah, no.”
“Do tell.”
“It’s just something personal.”
“It’s far more despicable to pretend not to know when you already have, than to speak up.”
“N-no, it’s not that despicable…!”
Besides, you’re the one who’s despicable here.
But the moment our eyes met, I sensed an overwhelming persistence in the Grand Duke, and I knew that if I said nothing, I’d never be able to return to my room.
Sigh, I had no choice.
I dragged a small chair from near the Grand Duke’s desk, pulled it over, and sat down.
“Um, so…”
My inner turmoil had begun with the relationship between the Marchioness of Ambrose and Baron Pavron, but discussing the original details with the Duke was impossible—so I had to offer just enough anonymity and a bit of paraphrasing.
“There’s an obvious situation here. When it’s awkward to intervene directly, what’s the best course of action?”
“Explain in more detail.”
“Well, A and B could become close, but due to a misunderstanding, they’ve grown apart. I feel that if I helped out just a little, things might improve…”
Blood is thicker than water.
More than anything, I know how dearly the Marchioness of Ambrose cares for Baron Pavron.
“Anyway, I’m worried that if I meddle rashly, not only will both of them suffer, but the entire situation could unravel.”
The Grand Duke, who had been listening intently, broke the silence with a question:
“What do you think would best comfort the princess’s heart?”
“Me? I…”
I tilted my head, falling deep into thought.
Of course, I’d prefer that neither Baron Pavron nor his wife suffer from financial hardship, dragging the Marchioness of Ambrose down with them…
“I want to help bring them closer together again.”
“Then do that. After all, the princess’s comfort must come first.”
“Ah…?”
“If you don’t tend to your own heart, who will?”
I stared at the Grand Duke with wide eyes, struck by the unexpected depth of his insight.
But then, suddenly, one of the Grand Duke’s eyebrows shot up sharply.
“Wait a minute. Are A and B connected to the princess?”
They aren’t completely unrelated, are they…? Both are people she knows.
I nodded in agreement.
“In a way, yes.”
“And A and B are a man and a woman, right?”
Since they are of opposite sexes, that’s true enough.
“Yes, exactly.”
“…Seems like you’ve been meeting more people these days.”
“Mm, indeed—I’ve met people of all ages and genders.”
“People of all ages and genders, huh.”
For some reason, the emphasis on “man” seemed oddly strong, but I brushed it off as my imagination and casually replied,
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Yet, at that moment, the Grand Duke’s face twisted as if in displeasure.
What—what is it now?
Suddenly, his demeanor shifted, and I felt as if my heart had shrunk to the size of a pea.
But the Grand Duke merely grunted, saying nothing further. Watching him, I quietly swallowed a sigh.
Well, still…
I must take care of my own heart first.
Receiving such unexpectedly sincere advice wasn’t so bad after all.