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“What… what did you just say?”
Thinking I must have misheard, I asked him again. Even though my voice had turned sharp, Drek repeated his earlier words without a flicker of change in his expression.
“I said, ‘It’s true that Her Highness the Grand Duchess Consort’s favorite dessert is strawberry shortcake.’”
“And who exactly did you hear that from?”
“From His Majesty the Emperor and the young lady of House Even, the Marquis’s daughter.”
“How would those two possibly kno—”
I cut myself off in surprise. A quick glance to the side reassured me—thankfully, Alexandra and Angelica were too absorbed in the desserts to have heard.
With a small sigh, I set down my plate and said to him,
“…Let’s move somewhere else. It’s difficult to talk here. And it feels like this might take a while.”
“Very well. I’ve been wanting to have a serious talk alone with Your Highness, too.”
At my suggestion, Drek nodded. We quietly rose from our seats and slipped out toward the terrace at the edge of the drawing room, careful not to let Alexandra and Angelica notice.
Conveniently, there was a table with two chairs outside. I sat in the one closer to the railing and gestured for Drek to take the other. Without a word, he sat down.
We were ready to talk. The lingering sweetness of strawberry cake still sat on my tongue, but the desire to keep eating had already vanished—what lay before me was far more pressing.
Just as I was about to speak, I noticed Drek’s posture. He sat straight-backed, yet it looked oddly uncomfortable, as if he’d forced his body into that position. Perhaps it was the mark of someone used to constant physical work—he didn’t seem at ease sitting so rigidly.
“You can relax. No one’s watching right now.”
Indeed, the terrace held only the two of us. Alexandra and Angelica were still engrossed in desserts, and the servants were too preoccupied to notice us slipping away.
“In that case, I won’t hold back.”
The moment he heard my words, he shifted. He leaned back into the chair, uncrossing and then casually crossing his legs, looking much more at ease.
I almost expected him to at least feign modesty and decline—but no. This man truly lacked even the bare minimum of courtly pretense. Well, he didn’t bother with much ceremony in front of Rayel either, so why would he do so with me?
That bit of formality he’d shown earlier must have been just for our first meeting, when he needed to leave a good impression.
Still, better someone like this than those who grovel and flatter to my face, only to slander me behind my back.
I’d met plenty of both types. Most people either trembled before my rank, flattered excessively, or pretended loyalty while whispering otherwise when I turned away.
But those who struck a balance—showing courtesy without losing themselves—were rare. Rarer still were people like Drek, who treated rank with such indifference. Perhaps that was why I found myself watching him more closely.
“All right,” I said at last. “Let’s continue our talk.”
“By all means. I’m ready.”
He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth curving just slightly. I returned a small smile of my own and pressed again.
“Who did you say told you my favorite dessert is strawberry cake?”
“His Majesty the Emperor and the young lady of House Even.”
“And when did you hear this?”
“Not very long ago. No more than three months back.”
“…Both of them?”
“Yes.”
I frowned. Less than three months ago, from both Rayel and the Marquis’s daughter?
The timing itself didn’t matter so much. The real question was how they knew—and why they bothered to tell him.
Rayel, I could understand. He knew the original Tiana well. When I first met him, he already knew her habits—her tea preferences, how often she liked to walk. No mystery there.
But Lady Even?
How could she—no, how could that transmigrator know that Tiana’s favorite dessert was strawberry cake?
I’d already suspected she was like me, someone from the modern world, someone who knew the “original story.” If she had read the side stories too, she might know plenty about Tiana… but not this.
The original story never once mentioned strawberry shortcake. Whatever desserts appeared, Tiana ate them without comment. That detail simply didn’t exist.
So if she knows this, it means either she investigated somehow—or…
Could it be? Could she have been the one who possessed Tiana before me?
…Unthinkable. And yet not impossible. I had already witnessed the impossible happen more than once.
But was the knowledge of this single fact enough to prove it?
My head spun. If she really was a previous possessor of Tiana, then Alexandra and Angelica’s warning—that I was her “target”—suddenly made sense.
Wait. If I’m her target… then…
A chilling thought struck me. If she had once possessed Tiana but lost that body for some reason, only to wake again as Lady Even, then learning that I had now possessed Tiana could easily make her feel robbed of her rightful place. That would explain her hostility. It would also explain why she knew about the strawberry cake.
Could it be true? Could she really be the one who lived inside Tiana before me?
If so, then all those tantrums she threw—at Lucious, at the Duke of Celeste’s people—were hers, not Tiana’s. But if she hated being displaced, why act out so destructively back then? And why turn her sights on me now?
Questions piled on, none with certain answers.
I shifted my gaze to Drek, who had been patiently watching me think. He waited silently, almost as though he already knew what I was puzzling over.
I had many questions for him, but first things first.
“Just to confirm: did you hear it from His Majesty first, or from Lady Even first?”
“Hm. If I recall correctly, Lady Even mentioned it first.”
“…She did? And can you tell me when, exactly, that was?”
“Of course.”
At this, Drek gave a short, almost amused laugh, as if he’d been expecting the question.
“It was about three months ago. At that time, I was still head chef for House Even.”
“…What? Then you only began working at the Imperial Palace recently?”
“That’s correct. Until three months ago, I was still serving the Marquis’s household. Then… certain circumstances arose, and I left. His Majesty offered me the position of his personal chef soon after.”
“I see…”
So Rayel really had brought him in recently. I had assumed he’d been here for years. It must have been Rayel’s doing—something he set up after regressing. Otherwise, someone like Drek would have at least appeared in the original story.
But how had Rayel known of him in the first place? Did the original story also have him being dismissed from the Marquis’s house? Had Rayel simply seized the chance, knowing Drek’s potential?
The questions multiplied, but for now, Lady Even was the bigger concern.
“…So why exactly did you leave the Marquis’s house? Alexandra and Angelica said you fell out of favor with Lady Even and were driven out.”
“‘Fell out of favor,’ is it? Well… you could put it that way. Though I’d say it was more than mere displeasure.”
“…More than that?”
“Yes. I wasn’t merely disliked—I was despised. Hated, even.”
“…What on earth did you do?”
For someone to inspire that much hostility, it had to be more than a minor slip. Did he hurt the transmigrator somehow? Serve something bad?
My heart tightened as I awaited his answer. But when it came, it was nothing like what I expected.
“All I did was serve her a fine cup of tea and a slice of strawberry cake.”
“…What?”
“Delicious tea. And strawberry shortcake. That was all.”
“…That’s it? But how would that cause—”
Tea and cake. That was hardly grounds for hatred. If anything, knowing Drek’s skill, it must have been exquisite. Then why?
“Exactly,” he said, exhaling a long sigh. “I’d never seen anything like it before. She threw the plate across the room, shrieking that she was sick of tea and cake.”
“She… threw it?”
“Yes. Smashed it. Shards everywhere.”
He shook his head, still baffled by the memory. No wonder he felt wronged. Being cast out for something so absurd would frustrate anyone.
“And then she shouted this.”
“What did she say?”
“‘Why are you serving me the same food I’ve only just escaped from?’”
“…What?”
“She said she wanted iced Americano and desserts that weren’t sweet. She yelled it, in fact.”
“…!”
I hadn’t misheard. Drek’s steady gaze was clear, unwavering, and honest.
