Chapter 15: The Schemes of the Tea Party (3)

Annamaria was shown to a room within the inner ward.

There was a sliding glass door facing the balcony, from which she could see the town of Parsa.

Behind the town, the lush and towering Padova Mountains stretched majestically, with clouds billowing from the ridgelines.

Karana Province was often called a backwater or a bulwark against the neighboring Barth Kingdom, but Annamaria liked this land.

Surrounded by rich nature, the people were easygoing, and the food was delicious.

In the center of the room was a table set for tea.

She placed the basket she’d brought on the wagon.

Galileo, behaving as a pet shoulder, waited quietly in the corner of the room.

As Annamaria approached the window and gazed at the scenery for a while, Jeremiah arrived.

Today he wore what looked like his everyday clothes: a long, soft-looking overcoat.

The fabric and tailoring were of good quality, but there were no decorations.

For a royal prince, his appearance could be called simple.

“I have arrived, Duke of Karana.”

As she moved to kneel by the window, Jeremiah stopped her with a hand.

“No need for formal greetings. You may call me Jeremiah, if you like. In return, I’ll call you Annamaria. Is that alright?”

“Of course.”

Such familiarity on only their second meeting must mean Jeremiah had taken a liking to her.

“I put you through quite a lot at the ball—my apologies.”

“No, I am the one who should apologize. I ended up destroying the hall…” Her voice faltered, feeling awkward, but Jeremiah let out a cheerful laugh.

“I was very satisfied to see your abilities firsthand. Now, let’s end this talk here.”

Jeremiah opened the window.

“Would you like to step out onto the balcony, Annamaria?”

“Yes… Jeremiah.” She hesitated a little, but when she called his name, he smiled.

“Karana seems like a wonderful place to live. I should have come more often and sooner. I’m ashamed of my own neglect.”

Jeremiah’s blond hair, caught by the wind, swayed gently.

Placing his hand on the railing, he surveyed the view.

‘For a royal, he really is a decent person.’

There had been royal children at the Magic Academy, but without exception, they had been insufferable.

Compared to them, Jeremiah had a much better character.

Even the way he addressed her was different.

“I’m glad to hear you say that. As someone born and raised here, and who loves this land.”

“I want to make this land even better.”

“What a wonderful resolve!”

Annamaria barely restrained herself from pressing in excitedly.

She swallowed the things she wanted to blurt out—like improving disease preparedness and resolving regional disparities—and smiled instead.

“Well then, please first try the local traditional sweets.”

If Jeremiah truly meant what he said about wanting to improve Karana Province, there might be no need for Annamaria to go so far as to use a Potion of Love to win him over.

But—as she’d told Galileo earlier, men who spoke fine words but meant nothing were especially common among royals.

Of all the royals who promised to cut taxes or eradicate crime to enrich the land, only a handful had ever followed through.

Unlike the small lords rooted in the land, like the Romano Family or the Fullranet Family, royal affection for the land and its people was different.

‘After all, to be certain for the sake of the territory, the best way is to become Jeremiah’s wife.’

When they returned indoors, a servant entered right on cue and began preparing tea.

Annamaria herself took the crocné from the basket and placed them on a plate.

Crocné were small, mountain-shaped pastries that fit in the palm of one’s hand.

Dough made of flour, sugar, and eggs was baked somewhat firmly in molds.

Then the cakes were soaked in syrup boiled down with sugar and fruit liqueur, dried, and finally coated in melted sugar.

Soaking them in syrup made them perfect for concealing a Potion of Love.

Once someone tasted the potion, they would immediately fall madly in love with whoever they saw next.

Right now, Annamaria was the only one before Jeremiah.

He would surely fall in love with her.

“Please, help yourself.”

When she set the plate before the seated Jeremiah, he looked at it with curious, sparkling eyes.

“I’ve never seen this kind of sweet before.”

“It’s very sweet, with a lovely flavor.”

Jeremiah picked up a pastry and brought it toward his mouth.

Annamaria grinned broadly, while Galileo twitched his wings with nervous anticipation.

“Lord Jeremiah.”

Jeremiah’s hand stopped at the sound of a servant’s voice from the doorway.

“What is it?”

“There is a visitor for you.”

“A visitor? I don’t believe I had any appointments besides the Countess Furlanetto today?”

“Yes, it is an unexpected visit. The guest has also asked me to apologize for arriving unannounced.”

“Who is it?”

“The Countess Romano.”

Annamaria felt her breath catch.

‘She came!? That woman!?’

She’d insisted on not coming along, and now she’d barged in without even an appointment.

“The Silver Countess?” Jeremiah, setting the pastry back on the plate without tasting it, stood up.

“What shall we do?”

“What a coincidence, Annamaria. The Silver Countess has arrived as well. Since she’s here, why don’t we all enjoy tea together?” He spoke with a beaming, innocent smile, leaving Annamaria unable to refuse.

If she protested, she would be asked her reasons.

She had no legitimate excuse.

“Uh… yes… Well… By chance… certainly…”

Her voice shrank away.

“Then, please show the Silver Countess in.”

A cold sweat ran down her back.

‘This is bad!’

Rosaria must have realized Annamaria was up to something.

With their childhood closeness and years of rivalry, they could mostly read each other’s thoughts.

She would immediately set her sights on the crocné Annamaria had brought.

If Rosaria exposed what was hidden within, everything would be ruined.

‘I have to do something…’

Should she shove a pastry into Jeremiah’s mouth before Rosaria entered?

Or retrieve the plate instead.

“Ah, oh my. Looking closely, these crocné are terribly misshapen. How embarrassing!”

Unable to force the pastry into Jeremiah’s mouth, Annamaria reached to remove the plate.

“They look fine to me.”

“No, truly, they’re supposed to have… um, you see, more pointed, dramatic corners! Anyway, the plate—”

A gentle hand pressed down on hers.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind about the shape.”

‘I mind—!!’ She screamed inside.

“The Countess Romano, Lady Rosaria, has arrived,” the servant announced, and Annamaria turned toward the door.

‘…It’s over.’

There stood Rosaria, accompanied by Kishi Rico.

“Forgive me for the sudden visit. Please pardon me, Duke of Karana.”

Rosaria offered a Knight’s bow, to which Jeremiah responded by shaking his head lightly as he approached.

“It’s fine, Silver Countess. And I’d be pleased if you called me Jeremiah. I’d like to call you Rosaria as well.”

Surprised by his friendly and open demeanor, Rosaria blinked several times.

“Y-yes. Thank you, Duke of Karana.”

“Jeremiah, please.”

“O-oh, yes… um… Jeremiah.”

While they spoke, Annamaria quietly took the plate of pastries and edged closer to the wagon where her basket sat.

If she could just return the pastries to the basket, she might manage.

If need be, she was ready to pretend to slip and fling the whole basket off the balcony.

Though it would look awfully unnatural to end up by the balcony holding the basket, she had no other choice.

Just one step from the basket, Rosaria’s eyes flashed as she looked over Jeremiah’s shoulder.

“Excuse me, Jeremiah.”

With that, she strode directly toward Annamaria.

“Those are crocné, aren’t they, Annamaria?”

“Yes, but the shapes are odd, so I was just about to take them away.”

Rosaria glanced into the basket, then frowned at the plate in Annamaria’s hand.

“You’ve hidden something in them, haven’t you?”

“What an accusation—”

“I can usually guess what you’re up to.”

Rosaria quickly snatched a crocné from the plate and addressed Jeremiah, who looked suspicious.

“There may be something hidden in these.”

“Hidden? Do you mean poison!?”

A servant, pale-faced, moved to shield his master.

Jeremiah looked perplexed, “Rosaria. What are you saying? Annamaria has no reason to poison me.”

“It’s probably not poison. Rather, it’s something even more troublesome—something only high-level magic users can handle. Allow me to eat one to prove it.”

Annamaria was shocked.

Rosaria had to be nearly certain that what she’d hidden was a Potion of Love.

And yet she meant to eat one herself—what was she thinking?

‘If she consumes the Potion of Love in this situation, Rosaria will fall in love with Jeremiah, right in front of her…’

Thinking that far, Annamaria suddenly felt a doubt.

‘What’s going on?’

Steeling herself, Rosaria took a deep breath as if making up her mind.

Annamaria clenched her fists and watched her.

At that moment—

“No! Captain!”