Night of Eden 95

Chapter 95

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"Master...!"

Tilly ran for the umbrella, but stopped dead in his tracks.

His master was standing under the awning. His face was shattered in the orange gaslight.

Tilly swallowed dryly, not daring to approach.

Theodore, who had been standing there like a broken clock, pulled a cigarette from his jacket and lit it with a trembling hand and held it to his lips.

There was a pause as he held the red flame to the end of the cigarette. Then the flame died down to nothing, and the unlit cigarette fell to the floor.

Theodore stared into space, his arms dangling downward. Time seemed to stop only around him.

Watching, Tilly's anxiety deepened.

He was holding out one last hope. That maybe, just maybe, today's meeting would clear his mind.

But the way his master was acting, it seemed like that would never happen.

...What to do?

Tilly closed his eyes tightly and swallowed a sigh. When he opened his eyes again, the man under the awning suddenly started to walk out.

The rain pelted him with a hooded spray. Tilly couldn't move, despite the fact that the water leaking through the umbrella was chilling him to the bone.

Theodore pushed forward, braving the downpour.

The fierce downpour pummeled him ferociously as he walked. With each passing step, all that remained was shattered debris.

***

It was no wonder Dana hadn't gotten any sleep that day. The real storm came after he was gone, rather than during the moment of confrontation with Theodore.

After a night of tossing and turning, forcing herself to sleep and then just waking up, it was dawn before she knew it.

Dana turned to face Rachel, her face as grim as ever.

"Who the hell was that?"

She demanded.

Not wanting to further complicate her already complicated head, Dana told her the same story she had told Mr. Bilbo.

"But why were you so surprised?"

Dana was momentarily taken aback, but she didn't let it show and answered calmly.

"Because I got in trouble with him. He's very strict with his servants, and I was humiliated…..”

Rachel tilted her head.

"Then why did he come here, if you don't have any fond memories of him?"

Dana frowned, but thankfully she seemed to have come up with an answer on her own. A very good one.

"Oh, I suppose he’s forgotten the taste of salt tea, and that's why he’s here."

"I see."

"By the way, I see that you’re from the mainland empire."

Rachel's eyes twinkled at Dana.

"And that you worked for a nobleman, too, my God."

Dana wanted to remind her that while Roman was a powerful empire, there were many more poor and struggling people living there than migrant laborers, but Dana just shrugged.

"Anyway, I don't think I've ever seen anyone so handsome, and he's a duke, so that's something else entirely. I'm guessing he's a bit of an evil employer, but I'd still like to spend a day in his company."

Rachel was giggling to herself when Mick opened the door and walked in.

"Hi, Rachel."

He glanced at Dana.

"Hello, ma'am."

A moment later, guests began to fill the table.

For Dana, using her body was always a grateful distraction. Especially on this particular day. At the height of the rush, the sanitary inspector even made an appearance.

Nevertheless, much of the ritual was taken up by Theodore.

“I wanted to let you know how I'm doing, you must have wondered once in your life.”

I should have read the paper.

She  wondered in retrospect.

"Hey...."

As soon as the morning business was over, Dana approached Mick and Rachel.

"That newspaper.... Do you know where it is?"

"The newspaper?"

Mick looked a little surprised.

"Uh... I... sold it. It's in Tribbon."

Tribbon was a flea market in a back alley.

"Okay, okay, it's okay."

Dana patted him on the shoulder apologetically. She didn't blame him at all. She was the one who'd asked him to clean it up.

She sighed and changed the sign on the glass pane of the door to 'closed'. Mick and Rachel's eyes widened at the same time.

"I'm taking the day off, so you guys can clean up and leave early."

"Really?"

They cheered and clapped each other on the back. Looking at the two young people, both around fifteen, made her feel old.

Mick ran home, and Rachel ran off to meet her friend. Alone, Dana boiled water for tea.

When had the newspaper been dated?

It didn't seem that long ago.

The fact that he had won the polo match suggested that he had been on the mainland until recently, but when had he started traveling? A month, two months?

How long was he planning to stay here?

Wasn’t it a little late to start a grand tour anyway?

As Dana pondered this, she came to a very surprising realization.

If he was just starting out, he wouldn't be back on the mainland for half a year at the earliest.

Would an heir over twenty years old be able to do this?

As far as Dana knew, heirs usually start the succession process around that age.

A nobleman of high rank, such as a duke, might have several lower titles, the highest of which passes to his son first. If the highest of the additional titles is Marquis, then Marquis, then Viscount, and so on.

Theodore had reached that age. And he was still traveling around, never marrying?

Dana's heart fluttered strangely as her thoughts reached that point.

She hadn't checked to see if he was married or not.

...Was he wearing a ring?

After a long moment of sitting there, the door suddenly burst open.

"Mrs. Miller!"

Tony Scott was the only one who had the nerve to barge in despite the closed door sign. At any other time, this would have been frowned upon, but not today. Dana had been waiting inwardly for him to come.

"I've heard the story, that the honorable gentleman couldn't resist his curiosity and came here first!"

"Yes," Dana smiled, closing her open mouth.

"By the way, you were very high-minded and rude. I can't believe you were so quick to kick out the Macmilan heir just because the business hours were over.”

As he clicked his tongue, Dana tried to organize her jumbled thoughts.

She hadn't expected Theodore to have told him already.

What the hell had he said? Surely she hadn't told him the truth?

The sure and safe thing to do was to keep her mouth shut and wait. Predictably, he started talking excitedly.

"I'm warning you, you can't treat him so carelessly in the future."

Before Dana could ask, "Why?" he had his own answer.

"I want you to know how much effort the mayor and I are putting into getting him to invest in this development project at Lewis Station."

Dana couldn't keep still.

"Isn’t he just traveling?"

"Huh?"

Scott stroked his chin, his eyes flicking to Dana.

"What does it matter if he's just traveling or not? We just need to get the money out of him, and luckily for us, there's an investor who's interested in our development project. Mr. Philip Wisburne, a very big businessman."

"...."

"Originally, the Heir had no intention of coming here on his tour of the Federation, but Mr. Wisburne invited him. He deliberately arranged his itinerary in consultation with our mayor."

Alas, so it was.

Dana was able to peel away one more layer of doubt about the bizarre coincidence.

"Do you understand now why I am so devoted to him? If we get the investment and this place is developed, won't it be a good thing for this shop?"

"In that case, Dana, good luck in the future.”

"I hope you show me how sorry you are. I'll be looking forward to it.”

That was why he said that.

A strange feeling of disappointment washed over her as her thoughts reached that point.

He was the same.

Why did she think he'd changed? People don't change.

Dana swallowed the bitterness and curled the corners of her mouth.

"Yeah, I get it, don't worry."

Although yesterday she was busy floundering around as Dana the maid again, she wouldn’t make the same mistake. Running the teahouse had made Dana more tolerant and skilled at flattery, a nice smile, and the like, but it had also taught her that sometimes you need to reprimand your subordinates and compromise with your superiors.

Scott's expression softened when he realized how pleased Dana was with his reaction.

"He’s quite the character, isn’t he, Dana? I'm surprised he would want to try 'salt tea' when I've clearly recommended your luxurious, aristocratic blend."

Dana was also surprised.

"Actually, I had originally intended to host him in the lounge of the Astra Hotel. I was going to invite you there to brew some tea."

"..."

"But he insisted on coming here himself, even though I told him, quite frankly, that this place is overrun with grease and lice in the mornings. Can you believe it? The heir to the famous Macmillan family!"

"...."

"Well, slum tours for the aristocracy are all the rage on the mainland, I suppose the young heir would like a unique commoner experience."

Scott shook his head in disbelief and wiped his chair with his handkerchief. He always did that just before he sat down.

"Well, I'm glad he wanted it anyway, because you make it good. I don't know what kind of reviews you’ll get, but it'll be pretty good just because he tasted it."

Before Dana could respond, Scott spoke up again.

"Of course, don't forget to get the finest tea leaves for the blend. The mayor and I would never have any of that cheap tea."

What kind of expression would he make if she told him that the milk tea shemade for him a few days ago was actually 'salt tea'?

"Mind your attire. You, well... nobody is not going to fall for that...."

Dana suddenly felt her body and mind grow rapidly tired, the ghosts of her past resurfacing.

There was a good chance that the grumpy Master Theodore was going to try to back her into a corner with another tirade over nothing. Perhaps he would use the 'investment' to harass her again, perhaps even harsher and more severe now that he had been abandoned by a maid…

"But why?"

Scott furrowed his brow, studying Dana's complexion.

"Uh... No, it's just that I'm suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed, and I'm not sure I'm up to the task of serving such a great man......."

Scott suddenly snorted.

"You're a woman, aren't you? You're playing an important role. All you have to do is smile brightly with that pretty face. We'll take care of the important stuff. Just don't go against his wishes like you did yesterday."

As soon as he finished, he pulled out his watch.

"Well, I'll be going, then."

"By the way, Mr. Scott. What do you think I should call the young master of Macmilan?"

"...young master?"

Scott frowned. Dana remembered that it was a title only used on the mainland, where the distinction between titles was strict.

"The mayor and I just call him Mr. Macmilan. He was the first to tell me that since we are in the land of the free, I could just call him 'Mr. Macmilan,' so I guess that's what you should call him, too."

Mr. Macmillan.

Dana repeated to herself.

"Mr. Scott."

As he headed for the door, Dana called out again.

"Do you happen to know... do you happen to know when he's leaving here?"

"That...."

Scott stroked his chin for a moment with his index finger.

"As far as I know, his next stop is Port Nova City, and I think he said he'd be leaving in three days. Wisburne told me."

Three days.

He is leaving soon.

"By the way."

Scott turned to leave, then suddenly smiled and turned back to Dana.

"Maybe he will stay longer."

"Why...?"

Scott winked and answered.

"You'll see when you meet the mayor and his accompanying guests that day. It seems like the mayor doesn’t just want to get investment money from him.”

Leaving a wide-eyed Dana behind, Scott disappeared out the door.

***

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