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Chapter 36

“Huh? You’re asking why Young Master Dietrich doesn’t eat in the dining room?”

Robert, who’d been hanging around next to me while I was in a bad mood, covered his mouth in surprise at the unexpected question.

Because he was peeling garlic when he did that, he ended up coughing, but even while choking, his eyes said, ‘Oh my, you really didn’t know that?’ over and over again.

“I just joined here recently, remember?”

“Ah, right. You did. Then I guess you don’t know what happened before that, huh?”

When I shrugged and tossed a peeled garlic clove into the basket, Robert glanced around cautiously.

Judging by the serious look on his face, whatever he was about to say seemed to be quite grave.

Did 《The End of Salvation》 ever mention why Dietrich doesn’t eat in the dining room?

I leaned closer as Robert beckoned me conspiratorially, but I couldn’t recall any such detail from the novel.

I have no idea.

I decided I might as well listen quietly to what he had to say.

If it turned out to be nothing important, I’d make sure he didn’t get any garlic bread tonight!

With that thought, I picked up my knife again to trim off another bit of garlic.

“Long ago, Young Master Dietrich was almost poisoned.”

“Poisoned?”

Clang! The knife slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a thud.

Poisoned?

That was definitely not “nothing important.”

Poisoned meant someone had intentionally tried to kill him.

Robert flinched as the blade dropped between my feet.

“Hey! That could’ve been dangerous!”

“Sorry, Robert—but tell me more. You said Dietrich was almost poisoned?”

“Can’t you see I almost got killed just now?”

Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Robert scolded me in a trembling voice.

Then, muttering something like ‘You really have no sense of caution,’ he continued.

“It’s an old story, but it happened on Young Lord Julian’s birthday. The family was having dinner together, and the main dish was a fine steak. After eating it, Young Master Dietrich’s right arm went numb—paralyzed from poisoning. The whole mansion went into an uproar.”

“……His arm?”

“They locked down the entire dining room so no one could leave until they caught the culprit—and they did.”

“Who was it?”

I set down the garlic I was peeling and focused on Robert’s words.

Someone had tried to poison Dietrich. That wasn’t in the novel, nor had anyone in the mansion ever mentioned it.

“It was a servant who was carrying food to the table. They say Dietrich cut the man’s throat right there with his own sword. Brutal, huh?”

“In the dining room?”

“Yup. Every servant and maid present that day was fired and thrown out of the estate. No one knows what happened to them afterward. People still talk about how amazing it was that Dietrich recovered so quickly, even after being poisoned.”

Robert made a face as if the memory still gave him chills.

“The physician back then said his right arm would be useless for life—but he overcame it. He’s not human, I swear. Still, kind of impressive.”

I couldn’t agree that it was “impressive.”

The thought that Dietrich had once been the target of poison left me numb with shock.

He had been in far more danger within the Delgado family than I’d ever imagined.

Then, suddenly, a scene from the novel came to mind:

…Dietrich ignored the whispers that followed him.
The truth didn’t matter to them.
The Delgado family’s ugly duckling.
The orphaned wolf cub—no one wanted to raise him.
He had to learn how to survive alone.

And what he finally realized was this:
To survive, he had to crush those who tried to drag him into hell.
Colder, harsher, mercilessly.
The moment he showed weakness, the hyenas would pounce.
Even if it meant standing atop their cold corpses, he had to climb higher.
Only then could he live.

It was the famous moonlit scene—Dietrich standing alone under the full moon, deep in thought.

Readers had been deeply moved by how lonely he looked that night.

It was also the moment when the heroine’s warmth shone all the brighter—melting the ice around his heart.

Now I understood, firsthand, why Dietrich had grown so cold and ruthless.

The book’s words couldn’t compare to hearing the story in person.

Everyone’s been so cruel to him.

Growing up like that, even the kindest soul would turn dark and self-protective.

According to Robert, Dietrich had only been fifteen at the time of the poisoning attempt.

At that age—knowing someone had tried to kill you, yet having no one believe or comfort you—how lonely that must have been.

No proper adults to support him. No peers to console him.

Later, he’d opened up a little to the easygoing Nocturne Fray, but only partly.

His true feelings were locked away, hidden so deeply that no one—not even himself—could reach them.

“And after that? Did he start eating normally again?”

“After the poisoning? No way. He barely ate anything for a long time. Losing the use of his right arm, even temporarily, must’ve been a huge shock—especially for someone who lived for the sword.”

“……So he didn’t eat much at all?”

Robert handed me back my knife and nodded.

“That’s what people say. I can’t swear to it, but even now, he eats and drinks very little. Everyone finds it strange—he eats like a bird, but he’s tall and strong.”

Robert nudged my shoulder with his. “Now stop daydreaming and keep peeling that garlic.”

I resumed cutting automatically, biting my lip hard.

I’d actually complained about having to bring food up to his office?

I hurt him without even realizing it.

Honestly, I’d always prided myself on being a decent person.

Not the type to pity others easily, but someone who couldn’t stand injustice and liked standing up for what was right.

Even if no one noticed, I felt proud of doing the right thing.

But just now—I’d been no different from the gossipy maids whispering about Dietrich behind his back.

I’d judged him based on what I saw and applied my own standards to his actions.

Ugh, I feel awful.

How could I have thought of withholding garlic bread from him?

Reflect on yourself, Harpe.

That wasn’t righteous anger—it was childish sulking.

I’d been pouting because he didn’t come to see me, demanding he notice me like some brat.

So I peeled the garlic with renewed determination.

I would bring Dietrich the best garlic bread he’d ever tasted—something warm and safe he could eat without worry.

Robert’s jaw dropped at my lightning-fast knife work. That’s how fierce my focus was.

Even after all the garlic was peeled and the bread was in the oven, my mind was still on that garlic bread.

“Heidi! Step away from the oven!”

The head chef barked at me when he saw me staring too closely.

It’d be perfect if I could bring it to him while it was still hot.

I backed away dreamily, still thinking of Dietrich.

The image of him watching the tray of food I’d brought—hesitant, yet trusting—kept replaying in my mind.

That means… he trusted me, right?

He asked me to bring his meals, after all.

A sly grin spread across my face.

“Chef, something’s wrong with Heidi. She’s acting weird,” Robert whispered.

“Yeah, looks like peeling all that garlic wore her out. Still, she did a great job—finished in no time.”

“Do you think I’ve improved too?”

“Robert, you’ve got a long way to go.”

Their conversation barely registered.

No matter how much I tried to suppress it, the smile tugging at my lips wouldn’t go away.

Now that I understood him, the warmth in my chest made me almost embarrassed.

Ugh! I’ve totally lost this round.

Every bit of resentment I’d felt toward Dietrich melted away like snow.

“It’s ready.”

The kitchen was a whirlwind of activity during dinner prep, but I was the busiest of all.

As soon as the chef announced it, I rushed over with a white plate rimmed in gold and ivory.

“You want this?”

“Yes! I’m taking it to Young Master Dietrich!”

Seeing the fire in my eyes, the head chef burst into laughter.

Then, pulling on his checkered oven mitts, he carefully set the freshly baked garlic bread onto the plate.

A warm, buttery aroma filled the air, making my mouth water.

There was no way Dietrich could resist this.

The chef’s skill was as incredible as ever.

I gave him a big thumbs-up and hurried to prepare the rest of the dishes.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen Heidi work that hard,” one of the kitchen maids said.

Standing beside her, Robert chuckled.

“She’s not afraid of Young Master Dietrich?”

Robert laughed so hard he clutched his stomach.

“What? Heidi, afraid of him? Don’t make me laugh!”

It sounded like he was about to shout, ‘Heidi’s totally smitten with Young Master Dietrich!’ but I was too focused on my task to care.

Someone else murmured, “So, he’s not that scary after all, huh?”

“Off I go!”

I shouted as I dashed out of the kitchen, completely ignoring the gossip.

My only mission now:
Bring something warm and delicious to the man who’d been hurt so deeply.

I all but ran toward the main building—
and so, I didn’t see the fond smiles of the servants watching me go.