The restaurant Edmund and Rose entered was a well-known Etunian eatery in Portnum. Since lunchtime had already passed, the place was quiet. After glancing over the menu, Edmund called the waiter.
He ordered a consommé and a sole course, along with a simple glass of water. Rose, on the other hand, had been studying the menu intently with a serious expression and then spoke to the waiter.
“I’ll have the vegetable potage and the lobster course. After the lamb cutlet, I’ll also add potato croquettes and a salad. Please be generous with the salmon and asparagus in the salad. Oh, and for dessert, chocolate custard, two slices of cake, and ice cream, please. For my drink, lemonade is fine.”
“Yes, I’ll prepare that right away.”
After taking the menus and leaving, the waiter disappeared, and Rose unfolded her napkin with an expression of utter satisfaction. Watching her from across the table, Edmund looked dumbfounded.
“I thought you said you already ate?”
Only then did Rose seem to realize how shameless she looked. She cleared her throat awkwardly and began to make excuses.
“Ahem. It’s just that I don’t often get the chance to eat a proper meal at a restaurant like this. You went to the academy too, so you know—school meals are really just there to fill your stomach.”
Of course, she attended plenty of parties and had many chances to taste good food. But eating heartily in front of others earned her accusations of being uncouth.
It was a rather harsh world for someone like Rose, who genuinely loved to eat. Watching her justify herself, Edmund merely let out a quiet scoff.
The amount of food Rose ordered was more than enough for one person, but the empty plates kept being cleared away without delay. Even after finishing his own dessert, Edmund noticed Rose glancing sideways at the fig pudding he hadn’t touched at all. He slid the plate toward her.
“Eat.”
“Thanks.”
It was the first truly sincere smile he had seen from her since they met. As Rose scooped up the pudding, Edmund watched her silently, a faint smile forming on his lips.
His afternoon meeting had been abruptly canceled, and he had planned to go home early to rest. If he hadn’t run into Rose on the way, that was exactly what he would have done. Instead, after spotting her in the park, he’d impulsively pulled her into a carriage, and before he knew it, they were even sharing a meal.
Perhaps because his misunderstandings about her had been cleared up, Edmund no longer found her irritating. He didn’t dislike this time either. If anything, it felt as though the fatigue that had built up inside him was easing.
He wanted to spend a little more time like this with the person sitting across from him.
“So where are you wandering off to today?”
The spoon hovering over the pudding stopped midair. At the same time, Rose’s pale green eyes slid subtly to the side. Growing tired of pressing the issue, Edmund closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.
“Stop thinking so hard and just tell me. It wouldn’t take much for me to find out what you’re up to.”
The spoon crushed into the pudding. Rose hesitated, her appetite vanishing, and after wavering for a moment, she finally gave up on lying and confessed in a halting voice.
“Well… my friends and I are running a night school…”
Edmund lifted his head as if he’d misheard. But after listening to her explanation all the way through, an incredulous voice escaped his lips.
“You really do everything under the sun.”
It wasn’t sarcasm—he was genuinely impressed.
“My family doesn’t know about this either,” Rose added quickly.
“You know what I mean, right?”
“You want me to keep it a secret?”
Rose, who hadn’t been able to hide her unease throughout the conversation, nodded. Edmund looked at her with a meaningful expression before speaking again.
“Where is this school?”
“Why? Are you going to come?”
She looked clearly reluctant, as if revealing the address would leave her no room to deny anything later. If a lady showed this much discomfort, it would have been gentlemanly to let the matter drop.
But Edmund was never a gentleman when it came to Rose Panning.
“Do you know what I always do first when choosing a company to invest in?”
Rose frowned, clearly wondering what he was suddenly talking about. Edmund continued calmly.
“I visit the company—or its factories. I check for problems myself before deciding whether to invest.”
Edmund could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she tried to grasp his implication. A moment later, Rose’s eyes widened slightly.
“So you’re saying… you’ll decide whether to keep my secret after you check if there’s anything wrong with our school?”
“Exactly.”
As Edmund drained his glass of water, his expression made it obvious—he was enjoying the situation far more than he should have been.
__________𓍯𓂃𓏧♡𓇢𓆸_________
Near the harbor stood cheap apartment buildings where immigrants gathered to live. Most of the residents worked at nearby shipyards or factories, scraping by just enough to survive in these ant-nest-like complexes. The majority were Iren people who had been pushed into Westmis by the recent great famine in their homeland.
Finding an affordable room in a major city was nearly impossible, so Rose had barely managed to secure the attic of one of these buildings on the outskirts of the city and use it as a school.
Following behind her as they climbed the endless, narrow, steep staircase, Edmund looked around at the unfamiliar sight of three or four front doors lining each floor. He couldn’t believe that so many households lived in a single building.
“Edmund, if that’s too heavy, want me to carry some?”
Rose beamed as she looked at the paper bags filling his arms. They were packed with food bought from shops along the way. Everything had been paid for with Edmund’s money, and touched by his generous spending, Rose had been unusually warm and friendly ever since they left the store.
“Come on in. Normally, our school is a no-men-allowed zone, but if I tell them you bought us a week’s worth of ham, cheese, butter, coffee—and even this expensive celery—they’ll understand.”
The attic was at the very top of the building. As soon as they opened the door, they stepped straight into the living area. The modest space held little more than a table and chairs enough for about a dozen people, and a small fireplace against the wall.
After lighting the fire, Rose took the paper bags to the kitchen. She soon returned with two cups of coffee.
“Pretty bare, right? We only use it for classes, so I didn’t bother furnishing it.”
“Doesn’t look like there’s room for much anyway.”
It was an honest assessment. Rose pouted slightly as she handed him a cup.
The warmth from the fireplace slowly chased away the chill in the room. Even as steam rose from his coffee, Edmund looked around with an unfamiliar expression and asked,
“So you and your friends come here every day to teach?”
“Usually.”
“Who rented this place?”
Rose blinked, reacting a beat late.
“…What?”
“This place. Who rented it? It couldn’t have been you. There’s no way uncle gives you that much allowance.”
“Oh.”
Only then did she understand his question. Flushing with embarrassment, Rose replied,
“A friend named Dora. She teaches with me, and her family’s well-off. When we said we were starting a night school, her parents said it was a good cause and gladly paid for the room.”
As she spoke, Rose couldn’t keep her hands still around the cup, betraying her lie. Fortunately, Edmund didn’t notice. Left alone with her own guilt, she soon looked for a chance to change the subject.
“Oh dear, look at me. I forgot to add more firewood.”
Muttering awkwardly to herself, Rose set her coffee on the table and hurried over to the fireplace. She scooped up a large armful of logs from the pile beside it—but as she carelessly set them down, her finger was sliced by a piece of dry bark.
“Ah!”
“What is it? Are you hurt?”
The moment he heard her cry, Edmund stood and went to her.
“Let me see.”
He immediately grabbed her hand and examined it. Small beads of blood welled up on her finger. The cut wasn’t deep, but Edmund’s brow creased sharply.
“Honestly. Be more careful.”
Clicking his tongue, he pulled her up and led her into the kitchen, rinsing the wound with water from a bucket. Treating her like an injured child, he handled the entire process himself, then pressed a handkerchief into her hand.
“Hold this and sit down.”
“I’m fine. It’s barely bleeding anymore.”
It only stung slightly—not enough to be treated like a patient—so Rose waved him off with a smile. But Edmund dragged a chair over in front of her and snapped irritably,
“Just listen to me.”
He took off his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and arranged the firewood himself, placing it neatly into the fireplace.
Sitting there and watching him, Rose felt dazed. His concern and kindness seemed excessive for someone who had only cut a finger.
He wasn’t like this when we were younger.
At the very least, she didn’t remember him looking so upset back then.
Rose bit the inside of her cheek softly. Being fussed over like this wasn’t unpleasant—if anything, it felt strangely nice. As she blushed, unconsciously aware of the broad, reassuring line of his back, the attic’s front door suddenly opened.
A familiar voice rang out.
