“But Anastasia, how did you conclude that I don’t like fish?”
I couldn’t confess that I had found out by observing the speed of his blinking and the subtle glance at the fish on his spoon.
It was comparable to Irina examining the interval between when I inhaled and exhaled.
After a moment of thought, I glossed over it a bit.
“You seemed a little more conflicted than you do when you eat other foods. Was I wrong?”
“… No. Actually, I don’t like seafood very much.”
Adele affirmed frankly. I will add this to my journal of research about Adele when I get home.
“So you don’t like dishes with caviar or lobster?”
“I don’t really hate seafood. I just prefer it less than other foods. It’s the same for things other than food as well. I like everything.”
I was reflected in his pupils that seemed to emit a feeling of decorum. Adele answered my question with an equal mix of sincerity and insincerity.
I didn’t know whether that was because of the Duke or because he was still reluctant to tell me everything.
I accepted Adele’s answer, but I still grumbled a bit.
“But I don’t like mushrooms.”
Walnuts are good, but almonds are not. Cherry tomatoes are good, but I don’t like normal tomatoes. Also, although roasted garlic is delicious, I hate raw garlic so much, I could die.
I’m absolutely crazy about spicy, salty, and sweet food. I tried to change my eating habits once, but I failed. I gave up completely after it became too stressful for me.
I hope that Adele will be able to distinguish between his likes and dislikes too.
“Anastasia, you need to cut down on spices first. I would like to take control of your diet, but…”
Adele suddenly started nagging me, so I glared at him with flames in my eyes.
“If you do that, the drawing hanging in your bedroom will come to life every night and strangle you.”
“First of all, I need to have a conversation with the Count’s chef.”
Adele finished speaking elegantly and I complained about how unfair it was.
“Luke said that all I had to do was eat well!”
“I think he said that about normal cooking. Don’t you eat more salt and pepper than actual food?”
I puffed out my cheeks as I glanced at the saffron, cardamom, oregano, etc., that I hadn’t noticed before.
While I was showing my displeasure, Adele smiled at me and began to eat the stake that was originally mine.
Hey! I messed up slicing it, so what am I supposed to do if you eat it?! I’m so ashamed that I could die!
I could feel the heat rise up in my face as I blushed bright red. At the same time, the chef was talking to the Duke, who kept coughing.
“Was there an issue with my cooking? It’s worrying that you keep coughing.”
Jeeze, who cares about a little cough? I ignored him once again.
It was a peaceful and lazy afternoon.
Adele Magnus looked at the sleeping Anastasia, who had dozed off shortly after lunch. Her starry, silver hair curled around her white cheeks and poured over her shoulders.
Once people saw Anastasia they were unable to forget her.
Adele recalled the ridiculous sight of the boastful young aristocrats at last night’s party, acting friendly as if they had made a promise to meet with him.
Even if they were minors, they were aristocrats who would take over their families in the future. However, when they saw Anastasia they all rubbed their eyes in disbelief.
It had long been known that Count Sinclair’s daughter possessed a beauty seen only once in a century, but the difference between simply hearing about it and seeing it in person was huge.
Even with an incurable disease, Anastasia’s beauty did not fade away. Rather, she shone day by day.
Like the increasing, instinctive awareness of her impending mortality, a poisonous catastrophe caused by her beauty also began to arise.
At first, the Count was pleased that his daughter was born pretty like him, but later he started to worry about whether that was truly okay.
Her beauty was absurd and beyond reason. Sometimes it created a feeling of incongruity.
Until recently people had readily avoided socializing with Anastasia, even while being amazed by her beauty. It was due to the uncomfortable atmosphere around her and the feeling that she didn’t quite fit.
The former Anastasia remained distant from other people.
She preferred to be alone and refrained from going out unless she was going to see a play or an opera.
Her existence naturally faded from people’s minds.
If anyone was asked if they knew Anastasia, they could only vaguely recall that she was a very pretty girl, according to rumors, or that she was the daughter of a count who had contracted an incurable disease at a young age.
But now it was different.
Anastasia wanted to see, hear, and experience more before she died. Now she knew how to be greedy.
And when Anastasia changed, the strange sense of disharmony that surrounded her disappeared as if it had been washed away. When she smiled, everyone relaxed and praised her sincerely.
It was obvious that after sitting down and having a face-to-face conversation with Anastasia most people would start to realize how charming her hidden side was. She was cheerful, mischievous, and incredibly sweet.
Adele covered the sleeping Anastasia with a blanket. It worried him that she was sleeping without tossing and turning as if she were dead.
Perhaps he should have endured not seeing her for a few more days.
Anastasia must have pushed herself too hard to attend the party.
She probably prepared for several hours before traveling by carriage for a long time, adding to her fatigue.
Moreover, it was likely that she had continued to suffer for a week.
Adele smiled bitterly and blamed his own selfishness for asking Anastasia to visit the Duke’s estate.
But he was also happy to meet with her. Although what she said to his father was totally unexpected.
Suddenly a maid knocked on the door. Adele confirmed that Anastasia hadn’t woken up before leaving the bedroom. The maid spoke politely.
“Marquis Claude is here.”
Duke Friedrich Magnus despised stupid people who tried to resolve everything using violence while coveting money and power.
It was highly unlikely that his father had personally summoned Marquis Claude, who fit that description, to the residence
Adele went downstairs. He felt absolutely no need to introduce Anastasia to the Marquis.
Anyway, the Marquis would be thrown out without even sitting on the sofa once, as always.
Sure enough, Friedrich Magnus had greeted the Marquis in front of the door with knitted brows.
He made it clear that he would not let Balthazar Claude into the hall, let alone the parlor. Adele observed the situation from afar for a moment.
“I haven’t invited you here, so why do you keep barging in? Just spit on the front door and go.”
However, the Marquis didn’t budge.
“My dearest lord duke*, did you replace the front door again?”
(t/n: he called him as 공작 나리 instead of the usual 공작님 which is informal in this setting.)
Baltazar Claude spoke informally to the Duke. He was a man of immense pride and did not want to acknowledge the fact that the Duke was superior to him.
Of course, his prideful obstinacy was pointless. The only reason that the Duke didn’t ignore him was because he was responsible for taking care of William’s* work.
(e/n: William is Anastasia’s father. That will be mentioned a bit later.)
“Uh-huh.”
The Duke responded insincerely using informal speech as well. It truly an ignoble way of speaking, but neither of them cared. As the Duke replied, the scarred face of the Marquis contorted.
“I’ve been idly thinking about it, but the design of the front door seems to change after every time I drop by. Are you replacing the door every time I spit on it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You have so much money it’s practically rotting away, huh?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is your tongue growing mold? Why are you answering like that?”
“Don’t yap noisily and just leave today. I don’t have time to take care of you.”
The Duke issued a direct order to kick him out. The Marquis groused in a displeased voice.
“Do you have a guest?”
“My daughter.”
Adele was amazed that the Duke cared so much about Anastasia. It was a strange sight, even for his own child.
Duke Friedrich was not a benevolent person, nor was he altruistic. However, the Duke not only cherished Anastasia, but also her brother Oscar Sinclair.
That was how important their father, William Sinclair, was to him.
The Duke would not have cared if the siblings had an extra arm or leg.
The Marquis immediately noticed who Duke Friedrich was talking about.
“Ah, that one who got an incurable disease? She’s William’s daughter, isn’t she? How is she your daughter?”
Adele quietly cast his eyes down. The Marquis’s deliberate comment about an incurable disease was getting on the Duke’s nerves.
The Duke’s patience was reaching its limit.
It was clear how the situation would turn out, so Adele approached and cut off their conversation.
“I haven’t seen you in a long time, Marquis.”
Balthazar Claude greeted Adele with delight.
“Adele! I was wondering what I should do if I didn’t see you, but that fear turned out to be ungrounded.”
Adele listened to the Marquis’s noisy chatter with his usual harmless smile.
“You still have no resemblance to your father. I’m so glad. Keep growing up nicely.”
The Marquis took Adele by the shoulder and encouraged him. The Duke observed them impassively.
“So why are you here?”
“Actually, I got my hands on a very special holy relic this time.”
The Marquis boasted and the Duke clicked his tongue.
“It’s probably the kind of thing that some attendants would throw away thinking that it was trash because it was rolling around on the floor. If you’re done bragging, go back.”
As soon as the Duke gestured with his chin to his servants, the door opened. The Marquis quickly cut to the chase.
“This is really special! It’ll put you in a hallucinatory state and show you what’s about to happen! I’m not sure, but it could be a relic of Anacleto. If you want… how about I show it to you before displaying it in the temple?”
A relic of the first pope, Anacleto, was priceless. However, the Duke was apathetic.
“What do you mean ‘show you what’s about to happen’? At best, it’ll tell you what the dinner menu is.”
Before the Marquis could argue, the Duke turned to Adele.
“But Anastasia, how did you conclude that I don’t like fish?”
I couldn’t confess that I had found out by observing the speed of his blinking and the subtle glance at the fish on his spoon.
It was comparable to Irina examining the interval between when I inhaled and exhaled.
After a moment of thought, I glossed over it a bit.
“You seemed a little more conflicted than you do when you eat other foods. Was I wrong?”
“… No. Actually, I don’t like seafood very much.”
Adele affirmed frankly. I will add this to my journal of research about Adele when I get home.
“So you don’t like dishes with caviar or lobster?”
“I don’t really hate seafood. I just prefer it less than other foods. It’s the same for things other than food as well. I like everything.”
I was reflected in his pupils that seemed to emit a feeling of decorum. Adele answered my question with an equal mix of sincerity and insincerity.
I didn’t know whether that was because of the Duke or because he was still reluctant to tell me everything.
I accepted Adele’s answer, but I still grumbled a bit.
“But I don’t like mushrooms.”
Walnuts are good, but almonds are not. Cherry tomatoes are good, but I don’t like normal tomatoes. Also, although roasted garlic is delicious, I hate raw garlic so much, I could die.
I’m absolutely crazy about spicy, salty, and sweet food. I tried to change my eating habits once, but I failed. I gave up completely after it became too stressful for me.
I hope that Adele will be able to distinguish between his likes and dislikes too.
“Anastasia, you need to cut down on spices first. I would like to take control of your diet, but…”
Adele suddenly started nagging me, so I glared at him with flames in my eyes.
“If you do that, the drawing hanging in your bedroom will come to life every night and strangle you.”
“First of all, I need to have a conversation with the Count’s chef.”
Adele finished speaking elegantly and I complained about how unfair it was.
“Luke said that all I had to do was eat well!”
“I think he said that about normal cooking. Don’t you eat more salt and pepper than actual food?”
I puffed out my cheeks as I glanced at the saffron, cardamom, oregano, etc., that I hadn’t noticed before.
While I was showing my displeasure, Adele smiled at me and began to eat the stake that was originally mine.
Hey! I messed up slicing it, so what am I supposed to do if you eat it?! I’m so ashamed that I could die!
I could feel the heat rise up in my face as I blushed bright red. At the same time, the chef was talking to the Duke, who kept coughing.
“Was there an issue with my cooking? It’s worrying that you keep coughing.”
Jeeze, who cares about a little cough? I ignored him once again.
It was a peaceful and lazy afternoon.
Adele Magnus looked at the sleeping Anastasia, who had dozed off shortly after lunch. Her starry, silver hair curled around her white cheeks and poured over her shoulders.
Once people saw Anastasia they were unable to forget her.
Adele recalled the ridiculous sight of the boastful young aristocrats at last night’s party, acting friendly as if they had made a promise to meet with him.
Even if they were minors, they were aristocrats who would take over their families in the future. However, when they saw Anastasia they all rubbed their eyes in disbelief.
It had long been known that Count Sinclair’s daughter possessed a beauty seen only once in a century, but the difference between simply hearing about it and seeing it in person was huge.
Even with an incurable disease, Anastasia’s beauty did not fade away. Rather, she shone day by day.
Like the increasing, instinctive awareness of her impending mortality, a poisonous catastrophe caused by her beauty also began to arise.
At first, the Count was pleased that his daughter was born pretty like him, but later he started to worry about whether that was truly okay.
Her beauty was absurd and beyond reason. Sometimes it created a feeling of incongruity.
Until recently people had readily avoided socializing with Anastasia, even while being amazed by her beauty. It was due to the uncomfortable atmosphere around her and the feeling that she didn’t quite fit.
The former Anastasia remained distant from other people.
She preferred to be alone and refrained from going out unless she was going to see a play or an opera.
Her existence naturally faded from people’s minds.
If anyone was asked if they knew Anastasia, they could only vaguely recall that she was a very pretty girl, according to rumors, or that she was the daughter of a count who had contracted an incurable disease at a young age.
But now it was different.
Anastasia wanted to see, hear, and experience more before she died. Now she knew how to be greedy.
And when Anastasia changed, the strange sense of disharmony that surrounded her disappeared as if it had been washed away. When she smiled, everyone relaxed and praised her sincerely.
It was obvious that after sitting down and having a face-to-face conversation with Anastasia most people would start to realize how charming her hidden side was. She was cheerful, mischievous, and incredibly sweet.
Adele covered the sleeping Anastasia with a blanket. It worried him that she was sleeping without tossing and turning as if she were dead.
Perhaps he should have endured not seeing her for a few more days.
Anastasia must have pushed herself too hard to attend the party.
She probably prepared for several hours before traveling by carriage for a long time, adding to her fatigue.
Moreover, it was likely that she had continued to suffer for a week.
Adele smiled bitterly and blamed his own selfishness for asking Anastasia to visit the Duke’s estate.
But he was also happy to meet with her. Although what she said to his father was totally unexpected.
Suddenly a maid knocked on the door. Adele confirmed that Anastasia hadn’t woken up before leaving the bedroom. The maid spoke politely.
“Marquis Claude is here.”
Duke Friedrich Magnus despised stupid people who tried to resolve everything using violence while coveting money and power.
It was highly unlikely that his father had personally summoned Marquis Claude, who fit that description, to the residence
Adele went downstairs. He felt absolutely no need to introduce Anastasia to the Marquis.
Anyway, the Marquis would be thrown out without even sitting on the sofa once, as always.
Sure enough, Friedrich Magnus had greeted the Marquis in front of the door with knitted brows.
He made it clear that he would not let Balthazar Claude into the hall, let alone the parlor. Adele observed the situation from afar for a moment.
“I haven’t invited you here, so why do you keep barging in? Just spit on the front door and go.”
However, the Marquis didn’t budge.
“My dearest lord duke*, did you replace the front door again?”
(t/n: he called him as 공작 나리 instead of the usual 공작님 which is informal in this setting.)
Baltazar Claude spoke informally to the Duke. He was a man of immense pride and did not want to acknowledge the fact that the Duke was superior to him.
Of course, his prideful obstinacy was pointless. The only reason that the Duke didn’t ignore him was because he was responsible for taking care of William’s* work.
(e/n: William is Anastasia’s father. That will be mentioned a bit later.)
“Uh-huh.”
The Duke responded insincerely using informal speech as well. It truly an ignoble way of speaking, but neither of them cared. As the Duke replied, the scarred face of the Marquis contorted.
“I’ve been idly thinking about it, but the design of the front door seems to change after every time I drop by. Are you replacing the door every time I spit on it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You have so much money it’s practically rotting away, huh?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is your tongue growing mold? Why are you answering like that?”
“Don’t yap noisily and just leave today. I don’t have time to take care of you.”
The Duke issued a direct order to kick him out. The Marquis groused in a displeased voice.
“Do you have a guest?”
“My daughter.”
Adele was amazed that the Duke cared so much about Anastasia. It was a strange sight, even for his own child.
Duke Friedrich was not a benevolent person, nor was he altruistic. However, the Duke not only cherished Anastasia, but also her brother Oscar Sinclair.
That was how important their father, William Sinclair, was to him.
The Duke would not have cared if the siblings had an extra arm or leg.
The Marquis immediately noticed who Duke Friedrich was talking about.
“Ah, that one who got an incurable disease? She’s William’s daughter, isn’t she? How is she your daughter?”
Adele quietly cast his eyes down. The Marquis’s deliberate comment about an incurable disease was getting on the Duke’s nerves.
The Duke’s patience was reaching its limit.
It was clear how the situation would turn out, so Adele approached and cut off their conversation.
“I haven’t seen you in a long time, Marquis.”
Balthazar Claude greeted Adele with delight.
“Adele! I was wondering what I should do if I didn’t see you, but that fear turned out to be ungrounded.”
Adele listened to the Marquis’s noisy chatter with his usual harmless smile.
“You still have no resemblance to your father. I’m so glad. Keep growing up nicely.”
The Marquis took Adele by the shoulder and encouraged him. The Duke observed them impassively.
“So why are you here?”
“Actually, I got my hands on a very special holy relic this time.”
The Marquis boasted and the Duke clicked his tongue.
“It’s probably the kind of thing that some attendants would throw away thinking that it was trash because it was rolling around on the floor. If you’re done bragging, go back.”
As soon as the Duke gestured with his chin to his servants, the door opened. The Marquis quickly cut to the chase.
“This is really special! It’ll put you in a hallucinatory state and show you what’s about to happen! I’m not sure, but it could be a relic of Anacleto. If you want… how about I show it to you before displaying it in the temple?”
A relic of the first pope, Anacleto, was priceless. However, the Duke was apathetic.
“What do you mean ‘show you what’s about to happen’? At best, it’ll tell you what the dinner menu is.”
Before the Marquis could argue, the Duke turned to Adele.
