CHAPTER 21

If there is a god of tea, he probably borrowed money from Liza and never paid it back. Liza was terrible at making tea. The water was too hot, and the tea leaves were steeped too long, so the tea tasted very bitter.

I took small sips of the tea—if I could even call it that. It tasted more like hot bitter grass water. I even wondered if Liza had a personal grudge against tea. My tongue was suffering, but I couldn’t show it on my face, so I quietly finished the cup.

“You need to learn how to brew tea better.”

Liza looked a little guilty but smiled awkwardly.

“I’ve never made tea before…”

Something felt strange when she said that. The Count had told me Liza used to work as the personal maid of a Baroness.

A Baron is a noble just one rank below a Viscount, and although not all of them are rich, they’re still nobles. So a personal maid not knowing how to make tea didn’t make any sense.

The reason I hadn’t noticed until now was because Bell never let Liza touch the tea. Bell took great pride in preparing tea just the way Carla liked it.

Now that something seemed suspicious, everything about Liza started to feel strange. Thinking back, she had a lot of clumsy habits for someone who had been working for years.

She opened letters without permission, talked back too casually, walked loudly, and didn’t move carefully. I decided to test her.

“How long did you say you worked at your last house?”

“Three years, madam.”

“Really? Then you must be very skilled.”

Liza straightened her shoulders proudly, like she was happy to be praised. She looked up at me like a little cat wanting attention, not arrogant but eager.

Excited, she started chatting.

“I learn things really fast! The head maid praised me, too. And… I even know how to sew tiny socks! Did you know, madam? Baby socks are super small—smaller than two fingers. They’re really cute!”

Her words were rhythmic like a fairy tale, and I listened to her like eating candy.

“Why are babies so lovable? Their heads smell like sweet caramel!”

She kept talking about how much she loved babies. She even laughed and said she hoped her future child would look like her. She looked so innocent and happy.

How nice it must be to live so carefree. I looked at her with pity. Whatever she thought my look meant, she sighed softly and stopped talking. Her big round eyes rolled nervously.

“Madam, um… if the tea is too bad, should I bring you some whiskey?”

“Whiskey?”

“Yes! I heard adding whiskey makes it taste better. I thought you might like it…”

I didn’t have to ask to know where she heard that. It must’ve been the Count. I didn’t know he drank whiskey with tea. Did Carla know?

Honestly, I didn’t care what that man drank. But the idea of whiskey in tea sounded kind of interesting. I nodded calmly.

“Just bring the whole bottle.”

I had no idea how much alcohol we had in the mansion, so I gave a general order. Carla’s diary didn’t mention these kinds of things, which was annoying. Liza tilted her head and asked,

“Should I bring the one in the study? I saw some hidden in the Count’s desk.”

“Yes.”

Liza ran out happily and came back quickly with a bottle of whiskey. Her skirt was slightly flipped up from running. She looked excited, like she hoped she could have a sip too.

The whiskey bottle was heavy glass. The top was narrow, the bottom wide, and it had fancy letters carved on it.

<Glenda – Aged 21 Years>

I poured the whiskey into the cup of tea. Liza sniffed the drink and whispered to me.

“Madam, I don’t think this is real Glenda.”

“What?”

She lowered her voice like sharing a secret.

“It smells different.”

“Really?”

“You don’t drink much, right? So you might not notice. But I sometimes sneak drinks from the cupboard, so I know… Oh! Please don’t tell the Count.”

Apparently, she sometimes stole his drinks. Luckily, Carla didn’t like alcohol, and neither did I, so I let it slide.

I smiled kindly and handed Liza the cup. She took a few sips and whispered again that it was definitely different.

“It smells kind of similar, but Glenda has a really strong flower smell.”

She tasted the whiskey-tea like it was normal tea and went on.

“Sometimes people pour cheap whiskey into a fancy bottle so it looks expensive. But this one still tastes good, so I like it.”

Then she handed the cup back to me like a child sharing juice. I took a sip. It had a slight floral smell, but it was bitter and dusty—not something I wanted to drink.

“This tastes really weird…”

“It’s still alcohol even if tea is mixed in!”

I wondered how anyone could enjoy this. Still sipping, I laughed like a spoiled noblewoman. Carla’s body seemed weak to alcohol—just a few sips made me dizzy.

“Here, you finish it.”

When I gave the cup back, Liza quickly drank it all. She looked so cheerful and innocent, but deep inside me, something stirred.

Was this feeling mine? Or Carla’s? I held my head like I had a headache and waved my other hand.

“I’ll rest now. You can go. Don’t come in unless I call you.”

“Yes! Oh, madam!”

As she picked up the cup, Liza asked,

“When the garden flowers bloom, can I pick a few? Just a few.”

I nodded gently. I didn’t think she would use the poppies for anything bad.

“Go ahead.”

As soon as she left and closed the door, I stretched. I felt a little dizzy from the alcohol, but I was still fine.

“Alright, time to get to work.”

I looked through the invitation cards piled on my vanity. It wasn’t easy to tell who was friendly to the king. I decided I would need Theodore’s help and made a first list.

I sorted the invitations: first, people I remembered Carla talking to; then, people with high rank; and last, those who had no connection and low status. It had been less than a day since I visited the palace, and already I had this many invites.

“Power really is scary…”

I opened the invitation from the Duke’s family first. It was strange—they sent it even though we’d never interacted before. The green wax seal was unique, like the king’s.

It showed an open book with a feather pen standing on it. Maybe it was a symbol of the kingdom, but I didn’t care enough to check. The message inside wasn’t a greeting or a tea party date.

[What are you doing?]

I looked at the envelope again. It was from Viscount Fides. I checked both sides of the paper to see if there was more, but that was it. Just one sentence.

‘What about you? What do you think you’re doing?’

That’s what I wanted to say. What was the point of this letter? I rubbed the corner of the paper, thinking. Did Carla and the Viscount know each other?

I tried to remember what Carla wrote in her diary, but there was no mention of Fides among the friends she argued with. I said his name a few times, but nothing came to mind.

The ink was deep black, and the writing style looked a bit like Carla’s. Some letters were stretched or had circles instead of dots.

Just thinking won’t help.

I decided to write him back. If he only sent that to get attention, it was a smart move.

Better to ask than stay up all night wondering. I searched the vanity drawers for paper. My hands kept missing things.

I thought about calling Bell or Liza, but stopped. A drunk noblewoman looking for stationery wasn’t a good look. Finally, I found clean paper in the bottom drawer. I took a deep breath and started writing.

[I’m sorry I couldn’t help you find a tutor.]

I thought it was a pretty clever insult. The meaning was:

“I guess you didn’t have a tutor to teach you manners.”

The letters were a little wobbly because of the alcohol, but readable. I folded the paper and stuffed it into the opened envelope.

No need to waste a nice envelope on this.

I melted wax, stamped it, and stood up.

I was still a little drunk. I opened the door, thinking I’d grab the first maid I saw and give it to them.

“You’re leaving your room, Lady Carla?”

I looked up quickly at the voice. The room spun a little, and a large hand supported my back. I narrowed my eyes to see who it was.

“Are you okay?”

“Sir Theodore?”

A knight with jet-black hair was looking down at me.