Two weeks had passed since work at the lord’s mansion began.
My life had changed completely, in a way I never could have imagined in my life until now.
As the morning’s work was coming to an end, Oscar invited me to the market.
“The wind is weak today. Shall we walk?”
When I nodded, he immediately went back to get his coat. It seemed he had been watching for the right moment all along.
“Eleanor, let’s go.”
It seemed it wasn’t unusual for the lord himself to walk through the market, and the street vendor men and the housewives out shopping called out to him in a friendly manner.
“Hey there, my lord! Out for a walk with your pretty clerk again today?”
“Don’t tease. …Eleanor, the ground’s wet there. Walk this way.”
Oscar pulled me closer to the stalls, keeping me away from the puddles.
His broad back and sturdy shoulders formed something like a wall, protecting me from the crowd around us.
Back when I was in the royal capital, walking with Cedric had always been difficult.
Not once had he ever matched his pace to mine. He would get irritated and say “too slow,” and I had desperately half-run after him, trying not to step on the hem of my dress, as he walked ahead paying attention only to my younger sister, Marianne.
But Oscar was different.
Even though he was large and surely had long legs, he slowed his pace to match my slow steps to a surprising degree.
“Um, Lord Oscar. I really am fine, so… you don’t need to be so overprotective of me.”
“It’s not being overprotective. It’s because if I take my eyes off you even a little, you seem like you’ll push yourself too hard and just disappear.”
Oscar murmured this in a low voice, still walking ahead of me.
There was something in the tone beneath those words that gave my chest a small, sharp ache.
‘So that’s how I looked to him.’
“I properly ate breakfast today.”
“I know. I was there too.”
When he turned around and our eyes met, I ended up smiling just a little.
Suddenly, a sweet smell brushed past my nose.
At a shop on the corner of the market, freshly baked pastries, just taken out of the oven, were lined up at the front of the store. The scent of sweet apples and cinnamon.
“Oh, miss, you’re looking at that with quite a face! How about a freshly baked apple pie?”
At the shopkeeper’s friendly voice, I hurriedly averted my eyes.
“N-no! I was only looking. I’m fine, thank you!”
Whenever my sister would beg, “I want to eat this!”, I had always endured it beside her by lying, “I’m not fond of sweet things.”
The guilt of spending money on myself, of putting my own desires into words, still hadn’t left me even now.
But the tall lord standing beside me stopped in his tracks and didn’t move.
“…Old man. Give me two of those.”
“Coming right up, thank you!”
“Eh, Lord Oscar!? I really don’t need any, truly…!”
“I want to eat one.”
Oscar said this calmly and matter-of-factly, and accepted the paper-wrapped pastries.
“Won’t you help me with one?”
Once he said that much, I had no choice but to accept it. When I opened the offered wrapping, sweet steam rose up.
He took a big bite of his own, and then looked at me, who was still hesitating.
“…It’s delicious.”
“Y-yes…”
“Delicious things should be eaten with courtesy, while they’re still warm. Once they cool, the flavor drops.”
I took a bite.
From within the crisp pastry, the sweet-and-sour apple filling spread, soft and melting.
It was warm, sweet, and so delicious it nearly made me want to cry.
“…It’s delicious.”
The honest feeling spilled out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Seeing that, the furrow between Oscar’s usually stern brows smoothly relaxed.
He loosened his mouth slightly, and I did not miss the moment he smiled, truly faintly, and gently.
“…I see.”
He gently placed his large palm on top of my head, stroking it softly, as if touching something fragile that might break.
“When you smile like you’re enjoying something delicious, it puts me at ease.”
I honestly thought, I want to eat more.
When I finished eating the rest completely and looked beside me, more than half of Oscar’s pie still remained.
“…Do you not care for sweet things?”
“I don’t dislike them.”
“You don’t particularly like them either?”
He didn’t answer, and dutifully took another bite.
“You don’t have to force yourself to eat it.”
“It’s because you looked like you wanted it. …If I’d only bought one and handed it to you, you would have held back again.”
I hid my mouth with the paper wrapping. Something sweeter than the apple spread and filled my chest.
“Then, next time, please tell me what you like, Lord Oscar. I’d like to eat it together with you too.”
He looked at me for a while, and then pointed down the street.
“That skewered meat over there, seasoned well with pepper.”
“There’s no more room today, is there.”
“…Next time, then.”
Going out together again next time.
I found myself recalling that promise again and again on the way home.