* * *
“Hurry up and get inside. We’ll wrap this up in 15 minutes and then head to dinner.”
“Understood.”
At my blunt urging, Hernan shook his head as if resigned, and opened the door to the study.
Playing the victim, huh?
I scoffed and turned away.
It was only natural that the Duke had ordered him to keep his face covered again this time.
*
After discussing with the Duke for about 30 minutes, I was finally released, stretching my arms high due to the unexpectedly delayed schedule.
The report, which I thought would end quickly, had been prolonged entirely because of Ryuudene.
[Oh? Not here. This place is where the Banshees reside. Surely, there will be humans claiming they heard an old woman’s scream every night.]
Ryuudene kept pointing out flaws in the areas I had carefully selected as the top candidates for the site inspection, like striking them down one by one.
If it had been something trivial, like feng shui issues or concerns about the terrain, I would have brushed it off, thinking humans can overcome anything, but the reasons were all disturbingly supernatural.
[This place… Hmm… I’m not sure if that one will allow humans to come and go frequently. If you’re okay with about ten drownings a year, then go ahead.]
Well, it’s probably the same in Korea. All the best spots in the deep mountains are already occupied by ghosts or mountain spirits.
The places I thought would be perfect for development were all claimed by unknown entities that humans don’t know about, but dragons do.
‘Well, I guess… it makes sense that these places are untouched by humans for a reason.’
In the end, the discussion on site selection went back to square one.
As I left the meeting, pondering how to compensate for the drawbacks of the lower-priority candidates, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling.
“I have a question.”
On my way back to the room, a question suddenly struck me, and I stopped in my tracks.
The small floating Ryuudene tilted its head, signaling me to speak.
“How long do you plan on following me around like this?”
Ryuudene snorted in response.
[You’re already complaining after just an hour?]
Sure, it’s only been an hour now, but who knows how long it’ll be next time?
Throughout the meeting, he spoke as if he would personally… no, as if his true form(?) would accompany the site inspection, making me tilt my head in confusion multiple times.
“Yes, I’m not very patient.”
Not being his descendant, I was a bit blunt, but I answered without holding back. Ryuudene flapped his small wings and shouted.
[I was planning to leave when the time came! Hmph!]
Then, as if sulking, he disappeared in an instant. It seems that the lack of shame, whether in ancestors or descendants, is ingrained in their genes.
It was ridiculous, but now was not the time to get distracted by such feelings.
To quickly finish the development project and sever these tangled relationships, I had to fix the twisted site selection first.
For a brief moment, I felt resentful, wondering why Ryuudene had appeared only to reveal information I would’ve been better off not knowing.
But I quickly pulled myself together.
No, it would be more troublesome if the resort turned out to be haunted, or if a hotel gained a reputation for frequent deaths after it was fully built. In that sense, it could be seen as help, even though I wasn’t exactly grateful. I quietly sat down at my desk.
‘Hmm… This complicates the procurement of materials….’
After about an hour of sifting through documents, scratching my head with the end of a quill as I racked my brain for a solution, I heard a knock.
“Come in.”
Expecting it to be Hawthorn with my meal, I was surprised to see a shiny-faced beauty peeking through the door.
“What now?”
I asked irritably, and without missing a beat, Hernan answered with a shy smile.
“Today’s dessert.”
Doesn’t a Duke have anything better to do?
Ignoring my irritated reaction, Hernan approached the desk with a plate.
Hawthorn, who was fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable with a superior carrying food, was ignored completely.
“I’m confident you’ll enjoy this as well.”
This guy looked down at me, as if to tell me to make room for the plate.
And the fact that I actually made room, as he requested, said something about me too.
“Do you really think this will change my mind?”
To my curt question, the Duke responded with a bashful smile.
“It doesn’t need to. I only want you to enjoy what I’ve prepared.”
No pride at all, huh?
I scoffed as I opened the lid of the dish.
What did he bring today?
I stifled my rising curiosity as I checked the contents….
“Lemon…?”
It was a rectangular lemon cake, dusted with lemon zest and gold flakes.
The outer layer was a light yellow-brown, while the inside was a pale yellow.
The icing on top made my mouth water.
“Yes, it’s a lemon cake made with lemons from Oren.”
Oren was a port city located on the opposite side of Nirvan from the heart of the empire.
Unlike Nirvan, which maintained a mild climate year-round, Oren was known for producing thick-skinned fruits, thanks to its distinct wet and dry seasons.
“Hmm….”
It was good that he used Oren lemons. But the issue wasn’t just the origin of the lemons.
There was a region just south of Nirvan that also produced lemons.
And since the Ever Paradise sold regional specialty desserts made with local ingredients, we took great pride in our lemon cake.
“Are you challenging Ever Paradise?”
I crossed my arms and looked up at Hernan with a slightly crooked smile. Hernan responded with a light laugh.
“It’ll be a different taste from what you’ve had before. Please try it.”
Hmm… The taste of a lemon cake depends on how much lemon is used, whether the flavor comes from syrup, icing, or directly from lemon juice, and so on.
The ingredients may vary, but if the basic components are the same, the taste usually falls within a similar range.
Unless he used some unusual ingredient, it would probably taste like a refreshing version of a pound cake.
What’s with this confidence?
Despite the questions filling my head, I couldn’t resist my curiosity and picked up a fork.
Just as the shiny silver fork was about to slice into the corner of the cake, I suddenly came to my senses and looked up at Hernan.
“What are you still doing here? Aren’t you going to leave?”
I swallowed the saliva that had pooled in my mouth and glared at Hernan, who raised his eyebrows and asked,
“Can’t I watch until you finish?”
I answered firmly.
“No, you cannot.”
And one more thing. I planned to chase him out along with the one that was cute but useless for my work efficiency.
I picked up the squirrel that was dozing by my desk and placed it on Hernan’s shoulder.
“Take this one with you while you’re at it.”
The squirrel, with its big, blinking eyes, looked between me and Hernan, then rubbed its head against Hernan’s shoulder.
Hernan petted the squirrel a few times, then chuckled playfully.
“It seems quite fond of you, Everdeen. Please be generous. This little one’s not a squirrel, by the way—it’s a furigo.”
So it was really his pet. I shrugged and asked,
“But isn’t that squirrel… or furigo, a bit too independent for something raised by humans?”
I had my doubts as I watched the furigo, which seemed too unruly for a domesticated pet, but Hernan responded nonchalantly.
“Yes, it’s not like he listens to everything I say, so there is a bit of neglect, but I do take care of him.”
Hah. Usually, nobles from snowy regions would keep animals like falcons, eagles, owls, or even wolves as symbols of their territory.
To hear that a grand duke is raising a squirrel, among the many fierce beasts, would make the central nobles scoff.
“How did that come about?”
Even if one isn’t particularly interested in the grand duke, it’s genuinely curious.
Not because I have any personal interest in the grand duke, but because, really, how did this happen?
A squirrel raised in the wild is basically the weakest and most fearful prey of the snowy mountains, and is extremely wary and timid beyond what people normally expect.
It’s hard not to wonder how someone ended up raising a creature that naturally perceives humans as a threat and would usually flee at the sight.
“When I was young, I brought it from a nest left behind after cutting down a tree in the training grounds behind the grand duke’s residence. The other babies were taken by the mother to a different nest, but this one was so weak that it was left behind.”
As Hernan briefly explained and scratched the squirrel, or rather, Pori’s forehead with his fingertip, Pori closed his eyes with a satisfied expression and shook his body, making a soft sound.
* * *
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Awww
Kinda like him
Thanks!