#056. The Duke Was Right, This Tea Was Just Bitter
It was a relief that I hadn’t revealed to the Duke that I, too, was a reincarnator. I genuinely thought so.
He probably accepted my excuse because he believed I was simply a precocious child.
“Right, seven years is longer than I’ve been alive.”
I subtly emphasized that Blanche was still just a six-year-old child and smiled. Yet my thoughts were a tangled mess.
The Duke had always given me much, and he always intended to. But what I had received so far, and what I almost received this time, were very different.
Until now, the Duke’s gifts had been intuitive acts of consideration. I liked flowers, so he got me a gardener. I wanted to raise a horse, so he gave me a stable. Things like that. Simple and straightforward.
He probably didn’t spend much time thinking about those gifts. From his perspective, they weren’t a big deal. It was just me, who had a hard time accepting things without offering something in return, that made them feel weighty.
But the plan he told me today wasn’t something he could have come up with lightly.
First, he had to consider whether I wanted to study or conduct research with other scholars. Then he’d have to worry about how I, alone, could attend the Imperial Academy. And since I’m a peace envoy, he’d have to devise a plausible excuse for my enrollment.
He must have thought long and hard about this plan. He was even prepared to give up a few years of his life for it.
This wasn’t like the previous gifts that were easy for him to give but heavy for me to receive. This was heavy for both of us.
Up to this point, I could accept everything the Duke gave me as part of the terms of our contract. But this—this was beyond the bounds of our agreement.
Someday, I knew I’d have to talk to him about this difference I felt—about where the line was between what I could accept and what became too much.
Just… not today. It’d be nice if I could put that conversation off a little while.
I swallowed a sigh.
“These are the letters that arrived this morning.”
After that day, my schedule became more packed than I had expected.
“Seems like today’s letter is from Young Lord Apfenlandri.”
Apparently, it wasn’t just Princess Dylaira, who had completed a three-year research project, making waves in the academic world. Other scholars had been actively building their reputations too.
The children from scholar families who had filled the ballroom that day must have gone home and told their families that there were promising scholars gathered at the imperial palace—and that they could use me to connect with them.
The adults, more aware of the rising stars in academia, now wanted to establish ties with the envoys, and that led to a flood of tea invitations arriving for me.
This was a chance I couldn’t afford to miss. Unlike me, the other peace envoys didn’t have the freedom to go out. So when an opportunity presented itself, I had to help build their connections.
That’s why I started sending out tea party invitations nearly every day.
Here, dinner was considered strictly personal time, while lunch was far too political. As someone who hadn’t even made her debut yet, tea time was the only slot I could use to meet outsiders.
“Bring the schedule with the tea. And clear this.”
I placed my utensils on the empty plate and wiped my mouth with a napkin.
In this palace, it seemed typical to have tea only once during the designated afternoon tea time. But I was someone who drank tea instead of water.
So after meals, I would often go over documents or visit other people’s research rooms while sipping tea.
Tula, who knew my habits well, bowed her head slightly and asked:
“What tea leaves should I use?”
I sighed deeply before replying.
“…Le Blanc.”
Noticing my hesitation, Tula carefully suggested:
“Um, I heard the kitchen is serving oatmeal cookies as dessert today. In that case, maybe another tea would pair better…”
She was sweet to try to use the snack as an excuse to steer me away from that tea, but this was a matter of pride. I shook my head firmly.
“No, use Le Blanc.”
“…Yes.”
Tula had become quite adept at controlling her expressions, but her face still looked full of pity as she glanced at me. I couldn’t even point it out—I just bit my lip silently.
“I’ve brought the tea.”
Tula set down a teapot, teacup, and an apricot tart.
I wanted to ask where the oatmeal cookies went, but I held back and poured the tea.
Someone probably requested the cookies among the scholars. It’s not the kind of snack you’d usually give to a child, anyway.
I took a small sip to check if the tea had steeped properly. It was truly bitter. I barely stopped my facial muscles from twitching and said:
“…It’s good.”
Yes. It wasn’t steeped wrong or ruined.
The Duke was right—this tea was just inherently bitter.
“Well then… go take care of your tasks.”
Normally, I would have Tula stay and chat while I drank tea, since she also needed to know my schedule.
But today, I couldn’t be bothered to manage my expression the whole time I was drinking, so I dismissed her.
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
Tula bowed gracefully and left. I cradled my forehead in my hand.
“This is driving me crazy…”
The tea leaves weren’t abnormally bitter. If I had to compare, it was probably similar to the kind of tea I used to drink like water in my previous life.
The real problem was… my child’s body.
I thought the inconvenience of being a child was just having short limbs and poor motor control. But there was another drawback.
This body was sensitive to bitterness. Probably to sourness too. All the food and drinks I’d had until now were tailored to a child’s palate, so I hadn’t realized it.
Considering I’d never found the tea in the Le Tail Empire bitter, there were probably some continental differences in flavor profiles. The food here tended to be sweet and heavy.
Anyway, this was clearly a matter of age. I just had to accept that this current body couldn’t handle bitter tea. It’d be fine to drink Le Tail’s milder tea instead.
But for some reason… that felt like a hit to my pride.
“I can adapt. I can adapt…”
If people can build a tolerance to poison, I could surely get used to bitterness. By the time I finished the gifted container of tea, I should be fine.
Resolving myself, I took a bite of tart and a sip of tea while reviewing my schedule.
Even if I made the appointment as soon as possible, it wouldn’t be for another three weeks. Young Lord Apfenlandri probably didn’t have any plans for that date, so I could just inform him after setting it.
I picked a suitable date and drafted a formal invitation.
Since my grip strength wasn’t great, the writing came out messy. I’d have Tula transcribe it properly and send it out. That settled this matter.
The remaining concern was Lady Martina.
I glanced at the packed schedule and let out a quiet sigh.
Lady Martina had helped a lot with this event. I was already grateful that she hosted the tea party on my behalf, but she had also filled the guest list with only useful people for me.
Thanks to her, I could build connections in academia even after turning down the Duke’s academy proposal.
“I can’t just let this go unpaid.”
It’s always best to return favors quickly. At the very least, I should express my thanks promptly.
Looking over the crowded calendar, I made up my mind. It was a little embarrassing, but I had no choice—I would invite Lady Martina to lunch.
“Thank you for the invitation.”
Just as I had never invited anyone for lunch before, it seemed Lady Martina had also never visited someone at that time of day.
Arriving slightly early at Jasper Palace, she fussed more with her skirt than usual, acting more prim and proper.
“I should be the one apologizing for not inviting you sooner.”
I greeted her more formally than usual, matching her tone. Her eyes widened.
“Wow, Blanche, you really speak like an adult.”
Well, that’s because I am an adult inside. I gave a wry smile and asked:
“Weren’t we trying to imitate adults?”
“Oh, right.”
Lady Martina cleared her throat again.
“If it helped you…”
She seemed to struggle finding the right words, so I helped her along:
“I’m truly honored.”
“Mm, yes, that. …Blanche, you’re really good at these kinds of expressions.”
“Well, I’m used to them.”
I had to use them a lot in my previous life. Of course, unaware of that past, Lady Martina interpreted it differently.
“Well, it makes sense. Blanche is loved by Her Majesty the Empress Dowager too. You must hear things like this a lot.”
What I received from the Empress Dowager wasn’t exactly affection—it was more like trust. She believed I could help achieve her goals and so offered me favor.
But there was no reason to explain all that to a child. I simply smiled in response.
