Better Than Sweetness Is Even More Sweetness (3)
Chirp, chirp!
Maybe it was the price of collapsing into bed the night before. The number-one sound effect you should never hear when you wake up drifted in through the morning: peaceful birdsong.
The tarts... I could drop them off a little later, couldn't I?
He was more tired than he'd expected. So this was what getting older felt like. Once upon a time, four hours of sleep, a coffee, and a vitamin pill had been enough to put him back together. Right now, the urge to roll around in bed was a chimney's worth of smoke.
Still. I should go.
A tart would keep for a day, maybe two, but it tasted best eaten as soon as possible. He'd stored them cold, and already half a day had slipped by. The flavor would have slipped a little with it.
He dragged himself upright and went down to the kitchen. Breakfast service was already over. The elf apprentices had finished the morning prep and gone off to rest. It was a little past nine; even if he hurried, he'd be arriving around ten.
He packed the peaches preserved in sugar and the lemon custard tarts he'd baked the night before, then left the manor at once and headed for the winery. Having walked the road once yesterday made it easier to find. Clear morning sun poured down without pause, and little by little his head began to clear. His face, unfortunately, did not. Faint veins stood in his eyes. His skin looked dull and dry.
But the tarts taste good, so we're fine.
He quickened his steps and still fussed over whether the tarts might crack. Every time he cracked the basket open to check, the scent of the dessert rolled over him, overwhelming. Sugar had gone into every stage, and butter by the generous handful. He had only smelled it, and already sweetness bloomed in his mouth—fragrant herbs and bright lemon custard cream woven together in a quiet harmony.
He buried his nose in the basket and breathed it in, again and again, and before he knew it he had arrived at Eilenna's winery. Just as Elioren had done yesterday, he knocked hard.
Bang. Bang. Bang!
A moment later the door flew open. Pale green hair caught the lemon-bright morning sun and shone all the fresher for it. Her eyes, though, were a little listless—tired, like someone who had barely slept.
"Ah. Good morning, Lady Eilenna."
"Wh—wha?!"
She hadn't expected the person at her door to be him. Eilenna startled hard and fumbled, flustered, and then her face went as red as a ripe peach.
Did I show up too suddenly, without a word? His visit clearly seemed to have caught her wrong-footed. Otherwise there was no reason for Eilenna—the type who said whatever she meant, a striking, sharp older-sister sort—to lose her composure like this.
"I came by awfully suddenly. I'm sorry. I made this for you to try."
"H-huh? No, you don't have to apologize... What is it?"
He held out the basket, and she took it in a daze.
"You didn't seem to have anything that would sit well with the wine, so I made a dessert. It's a peach tart."
"Really? You went to all that trouble. Thank you. I didn't give you the wine hoping for something like this..."
"It's all right. I made it because I wanted to. When you eat it, put the preserved peaches inside on top of the tart."
"Got it. I've never seen anything like this..."
The preserves were still separate from the tarts, so he explained how to eat them. From the look of her earlier, his showing up had made her uncomfortable. He wanted to see whether she liked it, but it was also true that he had come uninvited. The polite thing was to leave and let her eat in peace.
He turned halfway, facing the other direction.
"I'll be going, then. Sorry for dropping in out of nowhere."
"W-wait. No..."
The instant his foot left the ground—
Yank!
"Ghk."
"Ah, sorry! I didn't mean to—"
Eilenna had seized his clothes, and for a second his collar choked him. He whipped around, and she said:
"Just... eat with me before you go. I don't mind."
Her face was still flushed deep red. She clutched the tart basket in both hands, fidgeting, and held on to him.
Anyone could tell at a glance that Eilenna's house was a winery. The furniture had been made by recycling the oak barrels used for brewing—several barrels joined together, a board fixed across the top for a table. Dark brown and pale oak were mixed all through the room. Some people would have called it gloomy. Others would have said it was lovely, being surrounded by wood.
Ugh. This is embarrassing.
The owner herself was ashamed of the interior. Decorating had always been a world away from her; she had never spared a thought for ornament. A daughter of Liliendra only needed to brew well. That had been the whole of her thinking.
I should have brought in some decent furniture...!
She resented her past self. She and Kang Jinwoo were different races, and they had known each other for a single day. The heartbeat she felt now was absolutely not romantic interest. She told herself so. And still the look of the house nagged at her, because Kang Jinwoo was precisely the sort of person she hungered for—someone she could share a passion with, learn from, grow alongside. If she could look good to a person like that, she wanted to. There was no harm in banking a little goodwill.
Is he going to think it's rustic...?
Eilenna stole a glance at Kang Jinwoo as he came inside. He was looking over the wooden furniture this way and that, eyes bright. Seated at the barrel table, he sniffed and spoke.
"The interior's wonderful. These are all woods you used for brewing, aren't they?"
"Y-yeah! That's right. It seemed a waste to throw them out."
"You should never throw them out. An oak barrel that's held wine carries a complicated aroma all on its own. Some people will pay a premium just to get their hands on a used one..."
He had called it wonderful. She was an elf woman, after all—hadn't she been afraid the place looked too rough? She had been bracing for exactly that. But there wasn't a hint of empty courtesy in Kang Jinwoo. He praised it with nothing but genuine admiration, and then, not content to stop, he latched onto the subject of oak barrels and went on and on by himself about things she had never heard.
Thump!
Eilenna's heart slammed so hard that she startled at the sound of it.
Eek. Eeeek...
The sudden pounding made her scramble to calm down. Right. The tart. Eat the tart. He'd said it was sweet. Surely that would help.
"A-ahem! Jinwoo. Could you set the tarts? I'll bring a wine to go with them."
"Ah, of course."
Eilenna fled toward the wine cellar. The cellar beneath the house was kept at the proper temperature and humidity year-round by spirit magic, and perhaps because of that she felt as if she could breathe again.
"Haa... huu. Why am I like this?"
She was far too nervous. She hadn't been this tense even when her first wine was being judged. One thing was certain, though: it wasn't the bad kind of nerves. Her body wasn't locking up with fear, wasn't shaking. Happiness and joy set her heart pounding, and she could barely keep the corners of her mouth in line.
Once her breath had settled, Eilenna took a bottle of the sweet wine she had made—Eseriel. She had no intention of drinking much this early in the day. They wouldn't finish even this one bottle.
She returned to the table with the wine, sorting wine etiquette in her head so she wouldn't do anything rude, and then it was right in front of her.
"You're back. I've got it ready."
"Th-this is... a tart?"
Kang Jinwoo's ambitious work, the peach tart, sat there in elegant display.
She knew what a tart was. Elves simply didn't make them; she had tried one long ago, during a brief venture into human civilization. But the peach tart Kang Jinwoo had made looked nothing like the tart she remembered.
Sweet desserts were precious in both ingredients and craft, and had always belonged to high society. Tarts packed full of sweet fillings did exist, but Eilenna had never come across one. The tart she knew was a hard, flat pastry meant to stand in for a plate, with an egg mixture of vegetables and cheese poured over it and eaten as a meal. Better than coarse wheat bread and watery stew, as she recalled, but hardly fine dining.
This isn't the tart I knew. It's so pretty... and—
Cute. A dainty little tart no bigger than a palm. Brown, yellow, and pink stitched lavishly together, beautiful and adorable at once. The pastry was baked to an appetizing chestnut brown. Inside the shallow dish, lemon custard cream was packed full—a fragrance that lifted the mood from the scent alone. And heaped over that cream, preserved peaches.
So that's why he took the peaches yesterday.
Peaches of the highest quality, thanks to the World Tree's vitality and Eilenna's own skill. Folded with sugar and lemon juice, they had surely punched straight through the limits of sweetness.
Gulp.
Before she knew it, Eilenna swallowed a mouthful of gathered saliva. Better than sweetness was even more sweetness. The formula was crude and simple, and it was exactly right. She hadn't even tasted it yet, and already she imagined sweetness on her tongue. No wonder. Sitting before her was a delicacy that would make every sweet thing she had known until now look vulgar.
"Shall we try it, then? The pastry's crisp, so it's easier if you just take bites."
"Yeah... okay."
"Oh, right. One second."
As Eilenna reached for the tart, Kang Jinwoo muttered that he'd forgotten and rummaged in the basket. What he drew out was—
Honey?
Honey, portioned and brought along. It was already overflowing with sweetness, and he meant to pour honey on top of that? Was she even allowed to eat a dessert this extravagant? Hesitation flickered in her eyes, but over the heaped peach preserves Kang Jinwoo drew a smooth ribbon of thick, golden honey.
"There. All set. Dig in!"
"O-okay."
Sugar melted into the preserves gave them a gloss, but it could not follow the rich, sticky golden outline that belonged to honey alone. One drizzle, and the tart wore a color from another world entirely.
With a trembling hand, Eilenna carefully picked it up. A dainty size that looked ready to collapse if she wasn't careful. Slowly, so the peach slices wouldn't fall, she brought the tart to her mouth.
And bit.
A rush of flavor hit her all at once.
"M-mmph?!"
It gave her no time to judge which taste arrived first, or which aroma led the charge—a storm of flavor sweeping through. But Eilenna was a fully seasoned winemaker. A palate and a nose honed over long years of making wine ran on a different track from ordinary people's. She pulled herself together and took the dessert apart.
Across a canvas of pastry, crisp and moist and rich with butter, a stroke of bright yellow lemon custard had been laid. Sugar and butter caught the egg yolk's richness before it could turn heavy, and then—crunch, crunch—lemon zest hidden in the cream broke bright between her teeth like a surprise gift. That alone was already paradise, and Kang Jinwoo's peach tart climbed higher still.
Crunch. Snap!
Not too firm, not too soft. There was a bite when the teeth went in, and yet a tender give tuned to the tart's overall softness. Sugar and lemon juice had soaked evenly all the way to the heart of the peach.
Too... too happy.
The exquisitely preserved peaches wrapped her tongue and would not let go. Eilenna felt as if she had reached the greatest happiness food could give. And at the same time, a question rose.
Why did he add the honey?
It didn't taste bad with the honey, but had it been necessary? The dessert was already supreme. The honey made it look better, yet as far as she could tell it hadn't changed the flavor much.
She finished one tart, savoring it. Kang Jinwoo, who had been watching, spoke.
"Lady Eilenna. Try it with the wine."
"Oh, right. I forgot. Thank you."
She had been so absorbed in the peach tart that the wine had slipped her mind. Eilenna's wine was bright and intensely sweet: Eseriel. Kang Jinwoo had made the dessert in the first place to pair with it.
Choosing food to eat with wine was simple enough. The stronger the wine, the stronger the food. The lighter the wine, the lighter the match. A full-bodied wine called for a heavy dish; a light-bodied wine called for something delicate. Eilenna's wine did not escape the rule. The sweeter it was, the sweeter the pairing.
Into a mouth still holding the tart's lingering sugar, she let the wine slip.
Glug.
Huh?
This was a wine she tasted every single day, one whose flavor she could feel without even drinking it. And yet the wine that had just slid down her tongue delivered a taste and a sensation she could not write off as imagination.
The corners of her eyes trembled. Her heartbeat quickened again, and her head filled with excitement until she could think of nothing else.
Mariage. The word meant marriage, and it was also used for the harmony of wine and food—a perfect union, a synergy that lifted each flavor without limit. Eseriel's fated partner, something you would never find in Nuardel, that culinary wasteland. Eilenna had just felt a fragment of it.
The hesitation vanished from her hands as she reached for another tart. What mattered now was whether a true mariage waited beyond that fragment of flavor. She threw aside what little composure she had been keeping and bit into the peach tart. The same sweet, fantastic taste. Right after, she drank her own wine.
The sweetness of well-ripened peach, the brightness of apple and lemon. Her wine boasted such enormous sugar that the Nuardel peaches she had eaten alongside it had tasted almost bland.
The tart... is holding its own!
The peach tart did not fold. If anything it surged in her mouth, trying to surpass her wine, Eseriel. Like a horse race that made your palms sweat—tart against wine, tense and thrilling. The battlefield was Eilenna's tongue, the buds of her taste.
Incredible...!
Just as her taste cells pushed their sensitivity to the limit and took the flavor in, one blow from the tart's side broke the deadlocked tug-of-war.
So that's why he added the honey?
Fruit's fructose and sugar's sucrose had left a slight gap in the flavor, and the honey filled it—a heaven-sent richness that bound the whole tart into one, the sweetness of honey. Eilenna's mind went hazy. In an endless festival of sweetness, the wine kept going down, glass after glass.
Ah... I can't. Not any more...
A soft hiss of breath left her.
"Hieeek."
"Hah—Lady Eilenna?"
Thud!
Eilenna, eyes gone wild from the flavor, drinking herself under. The result was getting drunk before noon and planting her face on the table.