Chapter 33: Are You Angry?
While Alman was reflecting in his office on whether he had said something wrong, Evelia, who looked “somewhat lonely,” was not as sad as he imagined. Instead, she walked out of the main building of the manor with a calm expression, just like before, showing no significant emotional fluctuations.
…Was there a mistake in the plan?
After being invited out by Alman, she didn’t blame him with an air of melancholy as he thought, but instead began to reflect on whether she had done something wrong.
Since coming to the manor, Evelia felt she might not be completely compliant, but she did whatever Alman needed; wasn’t that enough to please him?
At first, Alman was relatively proactive and could talk to her. But now, why did he start to distance himself?
Why?
Had her intentions been exposed? Did he realize she was the Second Prince’s person?
That couldn’t be right… If he knew, he should have found a way to eliminate her long ago; why was he still keeping her around?
Evelia returned to the tree where she often pondered, recalling when Alman began to deliberately avoid her.
“…The carriage.”
Evelia mumbled those two words.
When she first entered the manor, she could clearly feel Alman approaching her actively. She was even careful not to reveal her intentions. In the kitchen, she had chosen to take the initiative to test Alman’s attitude. He had not resisted much, joking and laughing as usual. Even though he seemed evasive, at least he didn’t oppose her.
However, in the carriage, Evelia felt a strange emotion from Alman. Although the red mark on her wrist disappeared that afternoon, she still vividly remembered the force of his grip.
“…It was supposed to follow the book.”
Although it no longer hurt, Evelia instinctively twisted her wrist.
Why did Alman seem to dislike her when everything was supposed to go according to the novel?
“I couldn’t see his expression that day…”
Thinking about this, Evelia felt a bit regretful.
The wind had been too strong; her skirt had flown too high. While Alman didn’t see the “gentle expression” that Evelia had spent a long time cultivating, she also couldn’t see his expression at that moment, only knowing he rushed over to drape his coat over her.
Did he not like it? Was that why he was so resistant? Did he dislike the scene of the gentle breeze?
In the carriage, Evelia also discovered that Alman didn’t seem to appreciate the carefully prepared underwear; he had never even looked at it properly and hurriedly shoved it back to her.
This path… Could it be impassable…
Evelia hesitated; after all, until now, she still wore a set of sexy underwear underneath her maid outfit that she could change into, thinking it might come in handy someday.
“No way…”
For the first time, Evelyn felt troubled because her plan had failed so easily.
“It seems I need to take some time to observe carefully.”
—I have to understand what kind of person Alman really is.
Evelia thought she needed to know what he liked in order to take appropriate action.
So after pondering for a while, Evelia decided to adopt the same approach as Alman, who had also been thinking for a long time—watch and wait.
Perhaps only in these strange matters did they share such a tacit understanding.
“In any case, let’s proceed according to the original plan first…”
Once Evelia finalized her simple plan, she walked out from under the tree, taking a stroll around the manor as usual to ensure everything was in order within her duties. Then she headed to the kitchen, which she visited daily.
“Miss Evelia, what are you planning to cook today?”
Evelia, a regular in the kitchen, had gradually become familiar with the chefs there.
Though Evelia had a somewhat cold personality, those seasoned chefs were still touched by her enthusiasm for cooking. The older chefs regarded her as their daughter, while the younger ones treated her like a sister, always ready to help her with whatever she needed.
“Today, I want to try making an orange cake.”
Evelia walked to her little stove, taking out the oranges that she had prepared in a box, as well as the tomato sauce she drank as a beverage.
Although she had told herself, “I can’t let myself go down the path of drinking tomato sauce like this!” she nevertheless could not let go of it.
For her, this tomato sauce was not only a flavor that suited her taste but also her first attempt at something different.
Back at the Nightingale House, everything she ate and used was predetermined, and if she went out, her rations were also prepared in advance. Only this time, she had proactively tasted the tomato sauce, rather than being ordered by the Second Prince to eat it. For her, it felt like her first real choice, which was why she was so infatuated with this tomato sauce.
It was not just the sweet and sour taste she enjoyed; it was more about the “freedom” of her initial choices.
But she thought that someday, this so-called freedom would still be reclaimed by the Second Prince, but at least she had experienced it.
—If you want to do it, just do it; if you don’t want to care, then don’t! That’s how it should be!
Alman’s words had been engraved in Evelia’s mind. For the first time in over a decade of her life, someone had told her such a thing. The word “run away,” which she had previously derided as cowardly, had also left a mark on her heart.
But if she truly wanted to run away, it would be impossible, right?
Evelia stopped her thoughts and, with a thud, forcefully split the orange in two with the knife against the cutting board, as if the fierce blade had severed the longings that should not have appeared in her emotions.
“Ah, not enough.”
When she prepared the essential tomato sauce for her cooking, Evelia discovered that the last half pouch had just gone into her stomach, and even after squeezing hard twice, only a drop or two remained.
“What’s wrong? Miss Evelia?”
A chef nearby noticed Evelia, who was about to crush the tomato sauce pouch, and walked over to her.
“There’s no more tomato sauce.”
“I see…” The chef glanced at the nearby box. “That’s the last of the tomato sauce; the buyer just went out and won’t be back until evening…”
“Evening…” Evelia looked at the materials she had already handled, thinking that if she waited until evening, they wouldn’t be fresh. However… making another batch in the evening wasn’t impossible.
“Why don’t we skip making tomato sauce-flavored dishes today, Miss Evelia? It’s good to give the master a little novelty occasionally.”
Just as Evelia was about to give up, the chef’s words struck her. Though she intended to observe and wait, slightly changing her strategy could help her better understand Alman.
“Okay.”
So this time, Evelia astonishingly followed the correct steps in the cookbook, with the chef’s guidance, to make a delicate orange cake served in an orange peel bowl that had no tomato sauce at all.
When the dessert was finished, the chef internally celebrated that Evelia had finally created a normal dish without using tomato sauce.
After placing the cake on Alm’s lunch plate, Evelia untied her apron and asked a kitchen lady to deliver the meal, then stepped out to buy some spare tomato sauce for herself. She planned to separate her own from the kitchen’s, so she wouldn’t have to worry about running out of tomato sauce later.
As for Alman’s lunch, naturally, it was served by his old butler while Evelia was out.
Alman was still cooped up inside, having been pondering all morning and still not figuring out what was going on.
He thought whether Evelia was actually a bit sad about what he said, but he hadn’t said anything at all!
He planned to ask her how she felt when she brought the meal over at noon, but upon seeing it was the old butler who entered instead, Alman’s heart sank.
During lunch, he couldn’t find Evelia’s classic tomato sauce-flavored snack anywhere. Under the old butler’s strange gaze, he searched around but couldn’t find where Evelia had hidden the tomato sauce in what seemed like perfectly normal food.
“Ah—”
He set down his knife and fork without eating, covering his face with both hands while letting out a muffled groan of frustration through his fingers.
—This girl Evelia didn’t even prepare food for me; is she really angry?
