Chapter 51: Same Bed, Different Dreams (6)
Chapter 51: Same Bed, Different Dreams (6)
Translation: Godtl
It was just another ordinary family dinner.
"I'm going to get married."
Serena made her declaration.
She'd agonized over this decision for a long time, but this was the right path.
For her family's sake. For her own sake too.
Though it had been eating her up inside, the moment the words left her lips, she felt an unexpected lightness in her chest.
This wasn't a tragedy.
Just a slightly cold reality.
"As you said before, it's not a bad arrangement for me either," she added, forcing her usual bright smile as she chewed over these thoughts.
"..."
"..."
Both Serena's mother and father seemed at a complete loss for words, their mouths snapping shut as if blocked by an invisible barrier.
"You've thought it through well. If you change your mind, you can always talk to us anytime."
"Serena, there's still time—there's no harm in taking it slow and thinking carefully."
Her parents handled her with the delicate care one might use when touching a soap bubble, their voices gentle and soothing.
She could feel the love behind their words.
And that only made her more certain she wouldn't regret this decision.
After dinner, Serena returned to her room.
It looked exactly the same as always, yet somehow, she already felt nostalgic for it.
"What's wrong with me? I'm already getting sentimental..."
Of course, deciding to marry didn't mean she had to leave home immediately.
First, the Lenoir family would send a formal letter of acceptance to the Viscount Granville household.
Upon receiving it, the Granvilles would send betrothal gifts in return.
From that point on, Serena would begin exchanging letters with the third son of House Granville.
Could this be considered a period for building some semblance of intimacy?
"Even so..."
She had no idea what they would even write about.
Most likely, the letters would be stiff and dull, filled with ceremonial phrases wishing prosperity for both families rather than anything personal.
But whether Serena found it interesting or not, the process would proceed as dictated by tradition.
The elders of both families would engage in tense negotiations over the wedding date, venue, guest list, and—most crucially—the dowry and trousseau...
Meanwhile, Serena would undergo strict bridal training under an etiquette instructor.
She'd have an extravagant wedding dress made at the most exclusive boutique—one she'd wear just once before never touching again...
She'd finally see her fiancé's face at the engagement ceremony.
Though it would be an extremely formal affair, with both sets of parents in attendance.
"Ugh..."
The more she imagined the details, the more depressed she became.
Serena forcibly cut off her train of thought.
"I should tell Lady Penelope and Mr. Jurgen too..."
They were, after all, her business partners in their shared venture...
But more than anything, she wanted to apologize to them both.
To Jurgen, she'd explain that her proposal hadn't been sincere, and that she hadn't forgotten how he'd once saved her life—she'd repay that debt someday.
To Penelope, she'd apologize for trying to take advantage of their friendship by bringing up her difficult circumstances.
Though whether Penelope had ever truly considered Serena a special "friend" remained uncertain.
Still, this was the only way Serena could face herself with dignity.
"Alright... Then I should go see Mr. Jurgen and Lady Penelope today..."
She'd made up her mind.
"To tell them... in person..."
She'd made up her mind, but...
"...Hmm, maybe not today? Next time?"
It wasn't easy.
She hadn't faced either of them since that day.
The awkward silence that had formed between them in the meantime made the prospect twice as daunting.
She was terrified of how Penelope might react to her sudden proposal...
But above all, facing Jurgen—the living embodiment of the most spectacularly embarrassing moment of her life—was...
"I think I might throw up..."
It was such a monumental trauma that Serena, who had once been quite the drinker, completely gave up alcohol afterward.
"What's wrong? Did you drink again?"
"Masa?"
"Miss Serena, you've received a letter from Y&P Trading Company. I believe you should take a look."
"Huh?!"
At that moment, the head maid, Masa, appeared, handed her the letter, and disappeared.
It was just a letter, yet the moment she took it, she could feel its weight.
The weight of dread.
"Why send a letter all of a sudden...?"
If they had something to say to Serena, they could have just come to see her directly.
That's how they'd always done it before.
But the fact that they sent a letter like this made it feel like they were coldly insisting on keeping things strictly business...
Taking a deep breath, she opened the letter—just three lines in total.
To. Serena
Come to Jurgen's house by 6 p.m. today.
From. Penelope
The elegant handwriting befitting a noble lady, yet the message was so blunt and to the point.
Somehow, she could feel it emanating from the ink on this paper.
The accumulated fury.
"...Hah."
Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, Serena stopped breathing altogether.
No.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she just stopped breathing forever right here and now.
Serena trudged toward Jurgen's townhouse like a cow being led to slaughter.
In one hand, she carried an ornately decorated stand—a housewarming gift.
The well-crafted tabletop stand was all the rage as a social gift these days.
When she rang the doorbell, there was a brief stir from inside the house.
Why had she been invited here?
This was their rendezvous spot. Wasn't the choice of location... somewhat loaded?
Was Penelope angry?
She must be angry. Of course she was angry.
If she had considered Serena a friend, she would be furious at Serena for revealing such shallow intentions.
And even if not, what kind of woman would look kindly on someone making advances on her lover?
She had been invited, so she came to apologize, but...
Would the atmosphere even allow for that?
A moment later, Penelope opened the door.
She was dressed, as always, in an extravagant gown, but with an apron draped over it as she greeted Serena.
"Ah, hello... Lady Penelope..."
"Why are you so early? There's still thirty minutes left."
"Th-this is a housewarming gift. It's a stand—you can use it as a reading lamp."
"A housewarming gift? Ah, now that I think about it, this is your first time here, isn't it?"
"Y-yes... Aside from when we were looking for the house..."
"Well, thanks. I'll take a closer look later."
The entire time they exchanged greetings, Serena kept glancing at Penelope's expression.
But outwardly, it was impossible to tell.
Penelope naturally came off as curt, and as befitting a noble lady, she was a master of keeping a poker face.
"Come in for now."
"I-I'll be intruding, then."
Clutching her trembling legs, Serena stepped inside.
Given the circumstances, she tried not to think about it, but...
'This place... their rendezvous house...'
Unlike the last time she had been here, it now had a lived-in feel.
There was a sofa, a table, plush rugs, and thick curtains.
And the faint, pleasant aroma of good food wafted through the air.
But...
"Huh? Is Jurgen not here?"
"Jurgen went to meet with Director Belheim. Said he'd step aside since you'd probably find it awkward to see him?"
He stepped aside... because it would be awkward for me?
Serena blinked rapidly.
"Did something happen between you two?"
"Uh, well..."
Serena suddenly realized.
'Did Jurgen not say anything?!'
Penelope seemed completely unaware.
Perhaps... Jurgen had chosen to keep quiet about the whole incident.
After all, he must have known that Serena's proposal wasn't sincere—just drunken nonsense.
He probably didn't want to amplify misunderstandings and escalate the situation.
Jurgen...!
Serena was overwhelmed with gratitude for the boundless mercy of the great Jurgen.
Thanks to his consideration, the heaviest burden on her heart had finally lifted.
"N-Nothing happened..."
"Hmm, something's fishy."
"N-Not at all!"
Penelope seemed to have caught a whiff of something, but she didn't press further.
"Well, whatever. Wait in the dining room. You haven't had dinner yet, right?"
"Huh? Uh, no..."
"Just wait a little."
Instead, she abruptly guided Serena to the dining room before disappearing into the kitchen.
"..."
Serena stared after her retreating figure.
Then why did she invite me?
Serena had come to deliver the news of her marriage acceptance and to apologize to both of them.
But did Penelope have any other reason to invite her?
Moreover, Penelope's attitude toward Serena was... strange.
Friendly yet indifferent, indifferent yet unexpectedly affectionate.
It was just like the usual Penelope.
As if nothing had ever happened between them.
I was sure things would be awkward...
Soon, Penelope returned carrying two plates and set them down in front of the bewildered Serena.
"Here."
"What... is this?"
"This is Aglio e Olio Peperoncino. And next to it is Cola Wings."
On the plates were pasta and a dish made with chicken wings.
"...Did you cook this yourself?"
"Yes. Consider it an honor."
"...Am I supposed to eat this?"
"Why else would I invite you?"
Serena was half-stunned.
...She invited me just for this?
No particular reason, just to serve her a homemade meal?
Wasn't this like inviting a friend over for dinner?
It was confusing.
She couldn't make sense of what was happening.
"Well... thank you for the meal."
Honestly, in this dazed state, she doubted she'd even be able to properly taste the food...
Except—
She could.
Because...
"Wow..."
Penelope's cooking was violently delicious.
How could she describe it?
It looked incredibly ordinary, yet the taste was unreal.
The noodles glistened with oil, generously coated in sauce.
The rich, savory aroma of perfectly golden garlic bloomed in her mouth—without a hint of bitterness or spiciness.
The deep umami of subtly infused anchovies elevated the flavor, and just when it risked becoming too heavy, the sharp tang of capers and the spicy kick of peperoncino burst in.
The Cola Wings were just as miraculous.
Had she pushed the balance of sweet and salty to its absolute limit?
One bite left her craving a second, and after finishing two, she immediately reached for a third.
She had sworn off alcohol after the last incident, but...
She desperately craved an ice-cold beer.
"Good heavens..."
It was unbelievable.
Everything she had eaten before this wasn't food.
Could such a taste even be allowed to exist in this world?
"Wh-What is this?! How did you make this?!"
"I learned it from Jurgen. Tasty?"
"Th-This is the most delicious thing I've ever eaten in my life!"
"You should've come sooner. We could've eaten together."
"Huh? You've been eating like this all along?"
"I told you. I learned from Jurgen."
Serena was struck by a profound sense of betrayal.
"S-So... you two have been enjoying this incredible food all by yourselves until now?!"
"How despicable!
Delicious food should be shared!"
"I can't believe this. Every time I invited you, you said you were too busy and turned me down!"
"Ah."
"So from now on, don't skip out and come right away. Jurgen is an incredible cook."
Was that all it was?
Serena had assumed, without a doubt, that Penelope had been inviting her for some unspeakably vulgar reason and had repeatedly refused.
Had she known it would be like this, she would've come running to mooch off her ages ago.
The regret was overwhelming.
Because soon, she would have to leave Nortaris and would no longer be able to enjoy this amazing food.
Ah, right.
Lost in the exquisite taste, she had forgotten the very reason she had come here.
Serena had come to tell Penelope about her marriage.
"Though I truly appreciate the offer... I probably won't be able to eat much more."
"Why?"
"I, um... I've accepted a marriage proposal from Viscount Granville's family. I'll be sending my reply soon."
"Oh?"
The response was dry and indifferent.
Penelope seemed utterly uninterested in such matters as she placed a box in front of Serena.
It was an elegant case—large enough to hold two or three fountain pens.
"What's this?"
"Open it. You've had a rough time, haven't you? It's a gift."
Serena felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.
She had been certain Penelope despised her.
After all, Serena had tried to take advantage of Penelope's friendship.
And yet, here she was, serving her this meal and even giving her a gift.
Penelope was far too good for someone like Serena.
"I... I can't accept this."
"Take it while I'm being nice. Don't regret it later and cry your eyes out."
So...
She couldn't accept this gift.
"...There's something I really need to tell you."
Hiding the tremor in her voice, Serena forced out the words she had prepared.
"That you've treated me sincerely... I know that now. I truly understand."
"...What's gotten into you? You're making me cringe."
"I'm sorry. For trying to take advantage of your kindness, Penelope..."
"...?"
Her vision blurred.
Her throat burned, and her nose stung.
But she had to say this.
"Instead of accepting this gift... I have a truly shameless... and conscience-less request... Could I...?"
"...What is it?"
"...Even if I end up going to Albion... could we... exchange letters sometimes? I know it'll be bothersome and tedious for you, but..."
The reply was swift.
"No."
Serena's heart plummeted.
"I hate writing letters. My hand hurts. Absolutely detest it."
"I... I thought so..."
She couldn't bear to look at Penelope's face.
It was selfish and shameless until the very end.
But then—
"So just don't go to Albion. Stay here and keep living with us. Then you won't have to write letters, right?"
Penelope's words took an entirely unexpected turn.
"...What?"
"Turn down the marriage. Just keep working with us from now on."
"...What?"
"Enough. Look at this."
A document was shoved unceremoniously in front of Serena's face.
Even through her blurred vision, she recognized it.
Her father's study—the most prominently displayed frame on the wall.
The baronetcy recommendation letter hanging inside it looked just like this.
Serena's mind went blank as she stared, dumbfounded.
[...In light of Her Majesty the Queen's wise judgment, Baron Keystone earnestly petitions for the honor of a baronetcy to be bestowed upon the young lady of the Lenoir family, 'Serena Lenoir.']
One sentence burned itself into her mind.
Yes.
This was indeed a baronetcy recommendation letter.
But why was her name written on it?
"Huh? Wha— Wha... What?"
Serena, her higher cognitive functions utterly failing, stared at Penelope with primitive speech.
"Congratulations, Serena Lenoir, Baronetess."
And then—
Penelope was making an expression Serena had never seen before.
A smile, as if she were ticklish.
That smile looked incredibly shy...
And somewhere in it, utterly delighted.