Chapter 37
No!
I quickly raised my palm to cover my face.
Just then, the door to our private room closed, blocking Lady Enica’s gaze. Perfect timing.
Phew… crisis avoided. But what should I do now?
Should I tell Owen and Arne about Lady Enica? Warn them that someone from the capital was here, and we should be careful not to be recognized?
Right then, Owen asked:
“What’s outside?”
“Um… nothing.”
I hesitated, then decided to keep it to myself.
First, Lady Enica had been wearing a cloak. She seemed to be hiding the fact that she was here. So even if she recognized me, I doubted she would approach first.
Second, Cantalice was a huge city. What were the chances of us running into each other again? And after this meal, the place I planned to visit wasn’t well known at this time anyway, so our paths likely wouldn’t cross.
And finally—I didn’t want to upset Arne. If he knew he had to hide his existence, he would understand… but it might still hurt him.
Thankfully, by the time we finished eating and left the room, Lady Enica was gone.
Outside the restaurant, Arne hopped along happily.
“That was so good! Let’s come again next time.”
“Did it suit your taste, Arne?”
“Yes!”
Despite my lingering unease about Enica, the food had indeed been amazing.
The spiced Noiden lamb meatballs, the mussels stir-fried with rice and chili, the lamb-and-tomato stew with creamy eggplant purée—just thinking about it made my mouth water again.
“Arne’s right. It wouldn’t be bad to come again,” I said.
“I agree,” Owen replied easily. Then he turned to me.
“By the way, Sophia, didn’t you say you had somewhere you wanted to stop by?”
“Ah, yes. It’s a place in Cantalice I wanted to see…”
To be exact, a place I myself had recommended—from my past life.
I walked ahead and led the two of them through the streets.
In my past life, whenever I came to Cantalice, there was always one thing I bought.
At the corner of this alley… yes. The bakery.
Back then, I had discovered it by chance while wandering aimlessly. After that, I became a regular. Even though it was hidden away, the shop was always packed.
We entered the spacious bakery, and I scanned the shelves eagerly. But the item I was looking for wasn’t there.
Strange. It should have been their signature product.
I stopped a passing clerk.
“Excuse me, are you out of rose jam?”
“…Jam made from roses?”
The clerk gave me a puzzled look.
What?
I explained enthusiastically—how whole rose petals were preserved in syrup, used in tea or spread on scones.
Word of my strange request must have spread, because the head baker himself came out from the kitchen.
“Dear customer, if you don’t mind, could you explain this ‘rose jam’ in more detail?”
…And so, I ended up giving the recipe for rose jam to the very person who would someday invent it.
Time travel was full of surprises.
The baker listened with great interest, scribbling notes eagerly.
“When you come again, we’ll have rose jam ready for you.”
“Well, I’ll look forward to it,” I said.
As thanks, he gave me a jar of strawberry jam.
“There’s such a thing as rose jam, huh? I’ve never heard of it before.”
Owen took the strawberry jam from me and asked,
“But Sophia, how did you know this bakery sold it?”
“I think Eloise told me once… I must’ve confused it with somewhere abroad. You know how much Ellie travels.”
I brushed it off. Thankfully, Owen let it slide without further questions.
Our next stop was a small pottery workshop.
It didn’t look like much now, but I knew how big it would grow in the future—even opening a branch in the capital. All thanks to the Empress’s birthday celebration.
Traditionally, every Empress’s birthday fell in early spring. So her celebration marked the true beginning of the social season. But in reality, the festivities started even earlier—when the Empress herself invited a few young noblewomen to a private tea party.
Everything from the desserts and tea served to the flowers on the table became the year’s trend.
And the teacups used at that royal tea party? They came from this very workshop.
Even the artisan herself hadn’t known her work had been chosen for the palace. The preparations were that secret. Which meant, at this time, almost no one else knew about it.
“Welcome.”
A stern-looking elderly woman greeted us. Wearing a kerchief on her head, she was painting a vase with a fine brush.
Her hand moved so quickly that, with just a few strokes, a daffodil bloomed on the ceramic surface. Clearly, she was the master of this workshop.
Not wanting to disturb her, I quietly examined the shelves. Teacups and vases sat on display without special lighting, yet their beauty was clear.
As expected, I soon spotted a familiar design—the very teacup I’d seen at the Empress’s tea party. Among the other cups, it practically shone to my eyes.
Gold rimmed the lip, and the painted flowers were so delicate it was hard to believe they weren’t real.
So beautiful. No wonder the Empress had chosen it.
But then I noticed Arne standing in front of something else. He wasn’t looking at the teacup but at a large Noiden-style vase beside it.
“Oh, that’s lovely. Do you want to buy it?” I asked.
Arne answered calmly,
“I just thought it would look nice at home.”
The vase was decorated with spring god Rente, guardian of flowers; the household goddess Echifar, protector of families; and countless flower fairies. Arne certainly had an eye for art.
Owen stepped up, turned the vase halfway around, and revealed another figure painted on it.
I murmured,
“Maisis…”
“Yes, it wouldn’t be complete without her,” Owen agreed.
The goddess Maisis—of water and abundance, who nurtured all life. She was painted with flowing blue hair that shimmered like waves.
I liked it instantly.
Apparently, so did Owen. He turned to the workshop’s mistress.
“We’ll take this vase.”
The old woman didn’t rise. Instead, she tapped a bell with her foot. Ding-ling!
A small side door slid open, and a little girl ran out. She, too, wore a kerchief.
As she came closer, recognition hit me.
This girl—I had seen her once, far in the future, at the capital’s branch workshop.
How amazing. I nearly gaped but stopped myself.
Back then, she had been a lively young lady. Now, she stood before us as a playful child.
Owen pointed to the vase, and I quickly added,
“Um, Owen, I’d also like to buy a teacup.”
“Of course. Take your time choosing, Sophia. I just wanted to secure this before anyone else grabbed it.”
Anyone else? I thought, surprised. Was there another customer?
I turned my head—and locked eyes with a woman.
She had been watching us blankly for who knows how long.
A cloak hid her partly, but not her lush lavender hair. Her features were striking, her limbs long and elegant.
Lady Enica.
“!”
I froze. And so did she.
This was our first meeting in this lifetime. But in that instant, we both knew—we recognized each other.
Silence stretched until, unable to contain her curiosity, Enica spoke first.
“Lady Bartoli… and… is that the Glentino heir? But… what are the two of you doing here…?”
Her eyes dropped to the boy holding tightly onto my hand.
Arne.
