I immediately picked some chamomile flowers blooming in the garden.
Chamomile has small yellow tubular flowers in the center of its white petals. The ones where these tubular flowers are plumply raised have particularly high medicinal benefits, so I carefully selected and picked them, washing them with water to remove any insects and dirt.
Gathering the flowers and brewing the tea were both done right in front of Lawrence. I would never put poison in it, but it would be troublesome if I were suspected.
I warmed the teapot, put in the dried chamomile flowers, and slowly poured hot water over them from above.
The language of chamomile flowers is “to heal you.”
Wishing that it could heal Lawrence even just a little, I put the lid on the teapot and waited as steam slowly rose.
A faint fragrance gently spread across the room, and Lawrence relaxed his expression.
“It smells wonderful.”
Chamomile is characterized by a sweet and sour fragrance, just like freshly picked apples.
It is a scent I like, but I am glad that Lawrence seemed to enjoy it as well.
After I drank a cup first to serve as a poison check, Lawrence also placed his fingers on the handle of his cup.
He did not raise his chin, made no sound, and tilted the cup while maintaining a beautiful posture—his movements were elegant and entirely without a flaw. It makes me admire him as a true Duke.
“Delicious…”
“I’m glad!”
“It has a gentle taste that sets the heart at ease.”
“Yes. Since I used fresh flowers this time, it is fresh and refreshing, but if you use dried flowers, the taste becomes much richer and deeper.”
“Is that so?”
Showing the most relaxed expression I had ever seen from him, Lawrence smiled gracefully.
“Then, will you brew it for me again?”
“Yes, my lord. With pleasure.”
Early the next morning. While I was organizing terracotta pots in a corner of the garden, Lawrence came over.
“Good morning, my lord.”
“Good morning, Sarah.”
—D-dazzling…!
Lawrence’s smile, which is already refreshing, was almost divine with the morning sun behind him.
I could not look directly at him, so I instinctively narrowed my eyes.
Lawrence’s face is always as neat and pretty as a perfectly manicured formal garden, but this morning, the dark circles under his eyes had faded, and his sharp, handsome features were even more refined.
“I slept well for the first time in a while. Thanks to you.”
“I’m glad!”
Thinking how scrupulous of a person he was to come out of his way just to report that, I let out a sigh of relief.
From then on, brewing tea for Lawrence every night became my daily routine.
Consulting with Howard and the Duke’s resident doctor, I picked various herbs growing in the garden, placed them in bamboo baskets, and dried them in the sun.
Using the chamomile that was a hit on the first day as a base, I tried various combinations, such as mixing in lemongrass or adding lavender.
Lawrence seemed to prefer the blend with added mint, as it tasted refreshing and crisp.
—I pray that my busy husband’s heart finds even a little peace…
About a month had passed while I continued brewing tea with that wish in my heart.
I took the dried herbs with a teaspoon and put them into the teapot as usual. If large leaves are finely crushed beforehand, the tea’s components become easier to extract.
Using freshly drawn water and quietly pouring freshly boiled water over them, the tea leaves spun around in a circle inside the teapot like they were dancing.
“The sweet fragrance is strong today.”
“Yes. I added a small amount of linden.”
Linden is a plant that bears serrated leaves and small, cream-colored flowers. Since it blooms right in this season, I tried using the first flowers that bloomed in the garden.
“Linden is said to have the effect of easing tension and stiffness, and bringing about good quality sleep. My lord will surely have a good dream, too.”
“A good dream, huh…”
Lawrence brushed back his bronze-blond hair with a rough tug.
“Ever since my father passed away… I haven’t dreamed at all.”
Lawrence’s father was the previous Grandir Duke.
Though I never met him, I remember the news of the sudden death of the country’s proud grand aristocrat and the young heir succeeding to the title very well.
The news of a sudden death and the young successor taking over swept through the royal capital like a gale.
“…I never imagined my father would pass away so soon…”
It was a more vulnerable voice than usual.
With a helpless tone, like a child left all alone behind, it felt as though it conveyed without words how much regret Lawrence felt over his father’s death.
There must have been many things he still wanted to talk about with his father, and many things he wanted to be taught.
Yet, to be torn away by a sudden parting and to never be able to meet him again—just thinking about it makes my chest ache with a tight squeeze.
Before I could say anything, Lawrence chided himself.
“…I’m sorry. I know this is no time to be indulging in sentimentality. To maintain this house, I have to look only forward…”
“I have to look only forward.”
True to those words, ever since losing his father, Lawrence had piled up hard work and diligence without a moment to indulge in sorrow.
He must not grieve forever. There is no time to look back at the past. As a lord, for the sake of his domain’s people, he must look only to the future and do his best.
Sorrow must be overcome—surrounding people urged that, and Lawrence had disciplined himself to do just that.
“My lord. You don’t have to overcome it.”
Before I even realized it, I had said those very words.
“You don’t have to overcome it…?”
“Yes.”
The corners of Lawrence’s well-formed eyes curved in faint surprise.
“This flower is called a statice…”
I pointed to the tuzzy-mussie hanging on the wall.
This tuzzy-mussie was made yesterday. Centered around seasonal statice flowers, it is accented with the green of mint and fennel.
The statice, with its white petals clustered inside pink calyces, was lovely, as if spring had been brought right into the room.
“Statice has the flower language of ‘an unchanging heart’ and ‘unending memories.’ This flower language is directed not only at the living, but also at the deceased.”
Statice, with its flower language of “an unchanging heart” and “unending memories,” is also favored as an offering to place at gravesides.
The lovely statice, looking like countless layers of small frills, will surely bring spring into heaven, too.
“Feelings of respect toward your father, and the memories spent together… are things that do not change or end.”
There is no need to overcome your feelings for someone precious. It is only natural to hold them in your heart forever.
“I know that you are already trying your hardest, my lord.”
Lawrence has never thrown away his duties, and has faced a great responsibility. I know that he has been working so hard and has been so busy that he doesn’t even have time to dream.
A brief silence hung in the air.
“Sarah…”
“Yes, my lord.”
—Are you asking for a second cup of tea? Sensing that, I reached for the teapot.
“Sarah. Won’t you marry me?”