Chapter 6
Up until now, had there ever been anything Deoric Vallus did not possess?
Just being born the legitimate heir of a ducal house made him different from ordinary people.
As a child, he enjoyed riches no one else could dare covet, and as an adult, he gained the honor of a hero and the praise of the people. He had enjoyed every form of glory a human could have. So what could a descendant thousands of years later possibly offer him?
“That was all when you were alive, Grandfather. Do you know why ghosts stay close to the living?”
Most wandering spirits preferred places crowded with people. Eating, sleeping, clothing—mundane and unremarkable routines, yet the dead liked watching and listening to those things.
It was because they could no longer have such ordinary days.
Thus, spirits longed for the things they once enjoyed, and sometimes even coveted them.
“Wouldn’t you like to experience the joy of eating again? At midnight, in the northern castle wing—in my room. I’ll let you taste that teatime you used to enjoy with Grandmother.”
Kalyssia spoke confidently.
After all, when a customer hesitates to buy something, letting them sample it is always the answer.
***
The nostalgic flavor Kalyssia remembered was a traditional Korean snack: lotus maejakgwa.
It resembled the Laphria flower, stirring old memories, and it was the perfect sweet treat for teatime.
Kalyssia rolled up her sleeves and tied on an apron.
On the neatly organized shelf, the head chef had prepared ingredients in advance:
Flour, salt, ginger juice, and red radish powder.
“Would’ve been better with sesame oil, but oh well.”
Pushing aside her regret, Kalyssia began kneading the flour in earnest.
Dozens of times, her firm hands pressed and folded the mixture.
The dough, tinged a peachy color, took on a sticky, unified texture.
—H-how…!
Isaac, who’d been drifting around the kitchen, covered his mouth at the sight of the perfectly rounded dough. Its glossy consistency was no different from what a skilled cook could make.
“What.”
—Y-you’re cooking! You’re actually cooking!
“This little thing? Don’t make a fuss. I’m a good cook.”
Kalyssia shrugged.
Of course, her original self as a noble lady wouldn’t know how to cook.
But with Kim Yu-ha’s soul 99.9% infused, things were different.
She had deep knowledge of Korean, Japanese, Chinese, and even Western cuisine.
The reason she learned cooking, which had nothing to do with her fate, was the General.
More precisely, his relentless nitpicking at every meal.
Whenever she made offerings:
This dish is flavorless.
That one lacks umami.
Thanks to him, her cooking skills had improved dramatically.
—Since when can you even do this?
“Why’re you so nosy about other people’s personal history? Mind your own business.”
After using a rolling pin to flatten the dough thinly, Kalyssia set the knife upright.
Swick— Swick—
With each swipe of the blade, flowers of various sizes bloomed across the surface.
“Alive or dead, still stuck cooking for old men’s ancestral rites.”
Feeling drained, Kalyssia dropped the flower-shaped pieces into hot oil.
Tiny lotus blossoms sizzled as they turned golden and fragrant.
“Ahh— beautiful. I fried them myself but still— art.”
The fried maejakgwa looked crispy even at a glance. But one crucial element remained—the sticky honey syrup gently scented with cinnamon.
Bubble, bubble—
When the syrup began to boil, Kalyssia plunged the pastries into it.
A sweet aroma rose instantly, and the red hue deepened beautifully.
It was the moment the nostalgic maejakgwa blossomed.
***
“Your Laphria flower has arrived. For the first dessert, we present our ‘Lotus Maejakgwa,’ fried twice in freshly pressed oil for the perfect crispness. Then it is soaked in premium honey infused with cinnamon, offering natural sweetness and a refined finish.”
Mimicking a restaurant waiter, Kalyssia placed a silver plate on the table.
Deoric received the dessert tray with a strange expression, slowly closing his hand around it.
Tea time shared with someone—something about it felt strangely fresh.
—Not bad at all.
Deoric’s lips curved faintly.
The lotus maejakgwa decorated with blue herbs looked like a miniature garden atop a plate.
If his wife had seen it, she would’ve hesitated, saying it was too pretty to eat.
“Please, have a bite.”
—If only I could.
Still not fully convinced, Deoric slowly reached toward the plate.
Thuk—something blunt snagged on his fingertip.
—…Sticky.
His tone held light astonishment. He kept rubbing his syrup-coated finger.
Sensation.
That was the answer to what wrapped around him.
As if entranced, he picked up the maejakgwa and opened his mouth.
The crisp yet dense texture, the honey bursting with each bite—
It was stimulation he hadn’t felt in decades.
Then why did his mouth taste so bitter?
It was delicious. So delicious it sent shivers through him.
And yet his chest felt crushingly hollow.
—Miss. Miss!!
Isaac called out urgently, voice lowered.
Deoric’s reaction wasn’t good.
“Don’t worry. I prepared something else for this.”
Kalyssia suddenly grabbed a quill and began writing lines of verse on a corner of the wall.
It was a ritual spell—using the written wishes of the dead to call forth an illusion.
Across thousand leagues on the far path to the afterlife
Past the white waters wetting my ankles
Following the yellow stream rising to my back
Crossing the red river up to my throat
There spread fields full of flowers, all resembling you…
It was about a mystical field where all flowers of the world bloomed.
“I cross the three-colored rivers to reach the western heavens.”
Placing her hand on the wall, she summoned divine power.
A refreshing aura surged through her body and burst outward.
After several seconds, the wall was engulfed in blue light, and the verse disappeared.
Then darkness settled across the bedroom.
Wheee—
A soft breeze brushed Deoric’s cheek.
Warm and gentle—like his wife’s touch from long ago.
—Ah…
Suddenly, his surroundings brightened, and a thick floral scent washed over him.
In a daze, Deoric turned his head.
Spring-colored flowers covered everything in sight.
One blossom held the moment he first met her—
Two blossoms held the time they smiled at each other—
Three blossoms held the moment he said he loved her—
Countless blossoms bloomed and withered in his eyes.
—…Lillian.
Fighting the urge to cry, Deoric clenched his fist.
How long had it been since he spoke her name aloud?
How could just a few letters feel so heavy that he turned away from them?
—Rick. When the war ends and spring comes, let’s go east together.
There’s a huge Laphria flower field in a village called Loflan. It’s famous among lovers.
They say if you walk holding hands, you’ll be together forever.
Of course, we’re already married, but…
It was a letter he received from Lillian during the height of the war.
He never replied.
By the time he wanted to send his true feelings, death was too near.
When the cheers of victory swept the plains and the imperial banner fluttered—
Deoric Vallus, duke, said the words he must say:
Archea shall never fall, so citizens of the empire, fear not—
A lie.
In the moment his breath was fading, what he truly wanted to say was different.
Lillian,
I should rejoice that I protected so many lives with this body.
But why?
I feel more wretched and sorrowful than ever.
It’s shameful, but everything feels futile and unjust—
That on this land I bled to protect, there is no place for us to be together.
Lillian, if there is one thing I truly desire in this moment—
It is you.
Just to hand you a single flower.
The flowers filling the bedroom vanished one by one.
Left alone, Deoric buried his face in his hands, his breath trembling.
—…A full-course dinner with wine. Whenever I ask for it.
After a long time with his head bowed, Deoric spoke in a small voice.
Kalyssia quietly celebrated the success of their deal.
