Part 4: Regrets (4)
“This is too sweet for my taste,” Aiden stated calmly.
“Our desserts are generally less sweet compared to other places.”
“But it’s still sweet to me. Just because others don’t find it sweet, does that mean I must feel the same?”
It could have sounded like an aggressive question, but Aiden was genuinely curious.
Come to think of it, ever since earlier…
Lucy, and now Clara.
Even the atmosphere in the room, including the other customers, seemed to regard Aiden as an “enemy.”
“May I ask for a clearer expression?” Clara inquired cautiously.
“How specific?”
“Is the food tasty or not? Or perhaps, would you want to eat it again?”
“It’s not tasty, and I have no desire to eat it again.”
Aiden’s answer remained firm and unwavering.
At this, Lucy and Clara wore expressions of shock. Sighs and murmurs of disappointment echoed softly from the surrounding tables.
The reactions…
Aiden couldn’t comprehend them.
What stood before him was merely food.
As long as it had adequate nutritional value, it was enough.
If it was tasty, he’d eat it.
If not, he wouldn’t.
Why were they so obsessed with the evaluation?
When Aiden pointed this out, Clara replied earnestly, “Because food carries heart. Our restaurant hopes to bring happiness to those who dine here.”
“Then you’ve already gone astray from the start.”
“What do you mean?”
“No one in the world can make everyone happy, so no food can bring happiness to everyone.”
With Aiden’s rebuttal, a long silence fell.
Clara leaned toward Lucy and whispered, “He looks like a nobleman, but where is he from? The Ice Star? Why is he so cold?”
Lucy whispered back, “His personality is a bit frosty, but he’s a good friend. He just doesn’t understand desserts yet.”
Although it was a whisper, Aiden heard everything. If he set his mind to it, there was nothing in the world he couldn’t hear.
“Let’s go,” Aiden said, rising from his seat.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to the tavern. I’ve eaten enough, and I don’t want more.”
“Wait a moment!” Clara interrupted.
“I’ll prepare a dessert Aiden will enjoy. Please wait until then.”
“Do you think that’s possible?”
Aiden scanned the table. It was full of desserts he had taken a single bite of and abandoned.
Dessert = excessively sweet food = inedible.
That formula was already etched into Aiden’s mind.
Occasionally, he had been forced to eat desserts during undercover missions, and his assessment then was no different from now.
“Just give me one chance. I won’t bother you beyond that.”
“Come on, Aiden. She’s asking so nicely,” Lucy pleaded.
“Fine. Just one chance.”
Aiden sat back down.
* * *
Clara strode purposefully to the kitchen.
She approached Penem, who was kneading dough. Penem was the master pâtissier and owner of the Sweet World.
“Sir, I need to talk to you.”
“Hm? What’s the matter?”
“Well, we’ve got a real piece of work in the dining room,” Clara said, recounting the earlier events in vivid detail.
Penem chuckled warmly, seemingly unbothered.
“How can you laugh? Your desserts were insulted!”
“Tastes differ. Why get worked up over it?”
“But everyone else likes them! Why is he the only one making such a fuss? Could he have been bribed by another shop?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions.”
Penem remained as composed as ever.
Sometimes Clara couldn’t tell whether Penem was incredibly good-natured or simply indifferent to the restaurant.
“Isn’t there some dessert perfectly suited to his taste? Letting him leave like this feels like a blow to our pride.”
“Hmm… Let me think.”
“I’m worried. Desserts are supposed to be sweet, but making them less sweet doesn’t feel right.”
“Then I’ll make the pie I usually eat.”
“The one you like? A pie?”
“Truth is, I don’t like sweet things much myself.”
Clara’s eyes widened in astonishment. This was news to her.
Penem, the master pâtissier, didn’t like sweet foods?
It was a shocking revelation.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Not at all. When I was young, I only made sweet dishes to impress my wife. That’s how I ended up here.”
“So, what kind of pie are you making?”
“You’ll see.”
Penem began preparing Aiden’s pie. The chosen ingredient was pecans, a nut both rich and buttery.
To Clara, it seemed ominous.
Pecans were undeniably creamy and had a hint of raw bitterness that could be off-putting.
Penem boiled a much smaller amount of sugar than usual and coated the pecans lightly.
To Clara, it looked more like pecans were being buried in sugar.
He placed the pecan mixture in a pie crust and baked it in the oven.
Soon, a golden-brown pecan pie emerged.
“Give it a taste.”
Penem handed the warm pie to Clara. She took a bite, only to wrinkle her nose.
It didn’t taste like one of Penem’s desserts.
It was less sweet and overwhelmingly buttery.
“I… don’t like it.”
“Perfect. That means he’ll love it,” Penem said with a mischievous grin.
* * *
Clara returned to the dining room with the completed pie, placing the plate in front of Aiden.
“Are you sure about this?” Lucy whispered nervously to Clara.
The pecan pie was infamous.
It had been introduced once before and failed so miserably that it was pulled from the menu within a week.
“I don’t know. If Penem says it’s fine, what can I do?”
“This feels like a disaster waiting to happen.”
“It’s done. No turning back now.”
While the two whispered, Aiden studied the pie.
He had tried walnut pie before, but never pecan pie.
Still, his expectations were low.
‘It’s probably just less sweet,’ he thought.
“Try it,” Clara urged.
The staff and even the other customers watched anxiously as Aiden picked up his knife.
He cut a piece of the pie and brought it to his mouth.
The texture of the pecans was crisp, much crunchier than walnuts.
The flavor was rich—almost indulgently so—but stopped short of being overwhelming.
The sweetness was mild, enough to complement without offending.
“Well?” Clara asked cautiously.
Aiden stared at Clara intently before replying, “This is… delicious.”
“Wow! I did it!”
“Sis!”
Lucy jumped up from her seat and hugged Clara tightly. Even the other patrons, who had been nervously watching, broke into cheers.
“As expected of our head chef!”
“It feels like a blockage has been cleared from my chest.”
“Whew. Thank goodness.”
Amidst the surrounding chatter, Aiden remained focused on the pecan pie.
Even he was surprised.
He never imagined he’d find a dessert that suited his taste.
He’d barely glanced at other desserts before, but this one… he actually wanted to finish the whole thing.
“Aiden, can I try a little bit?”
Instead of answering, Aiden nodded.
However, when Lucy tasted the pecan pie, her face crumpled into a frown. It was too rich and not sweet enough for her liking.
Calling it a dessert felt almost embarrassing.
She suddenly felt sorry for Aiden.
Thinking in reverse, what if Aiden had piled up pecan pies and insisted they were delicious, forcing her to try them?
Just the thought was horrifying.
Perhaps forcing one’s preferences onto someone else was a form of violence in its own way.
The other patrons seemed to share Lucy’s sentiment.
They followed her lead, ordering the pecan pie that had “defeated” Aiden, only to be sorely disappointed.
“This is just… not it.”
“I shouldn’t have ordered it. Now my palate feels ruined.”
“After all, nothing beats the sweetness of apple pie.”
Once the commotion settled down, Aiden surprised everyone by finishing the entire pecan pie on his own.
It wasn’t an exaggeration—this was the first time he’d eaten such a large portion of food in one sitting.
He even felt physically heavy, but strangely, it wasn’t regret he felt. It was satisfaction.
“Because food carries heart. Our restaurant hopes to bring happiness to those who dine here.”
Clara’s earlier words suddenly came to mind.
At the time, they had sounded grandiose and unrealistic. But after savoring the food, he realized…
Maybe finding happiness through food wasn’t so impossible after all.
Now he understood why Lucy was such a regular at this place.
With the meal over, Aiden followed Lucy to the counter to settle the bill.
Instead of a server, a middle-aged man was standing behind the counter.
It wasn’t hard to guess that this man was the owner and the one who made the pies.
“I’m Penem, the owner. So, how was the pie?”
“It was excellent,” Aiden said honestly.
“I thought you might like it. Your taste seems similar to mine.”
“Is my taste considered picky?”
“Not at all. Everyone just has their own preferences. But people often struggle to distinguish between ‘different’ and ‘wrong.’”
Penem chuckled heartily.
His relaxed demeanor reminded Aiden of Carl.
That distinct air of someone with unshakable convictions or wisdom.
“You’re probably the type to eat sparingly and have little interest in food, am I right?”
“You’re right.”
“Do you think it’s due to innate reasons? Or learned ones?”
The unexpected depth of the question made Aiden pause before replying, “I believe it’s the latter.”
When he had been a vagrant, Aiden ate anything he could. But after becoming an assassin, he began to avoid food.
Eating made him lethargic.
And there was always the risk of poison.
Though it no longer mattered now, old habits were hard to break.
As he answered, Aiden came to a realization.
A change in one’s life could alter their taste.
Taste was influenced by one’s circumstances.
“I’m similar to you. I eat sparingly and don’t care for sweets, yet I opened a dessert shop. Life is strange, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is.”
“There’s no need to go searching for delicious food. Not everyone feels the need for it,” Penem spoke with a gentle smile.
“But having one or two comforting dishes in your life can be a big help.”
“I’ve already found one.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
Penem mentioned that pecan pie wasn’t very popular but promised to make it fresh anytime Aiden wanted.
“Thank you. In that case, I’d like to take one to go.”
“Coming right up.”
After waiting, Aiden received the packaged pecan pie.
He paid for it himself.
Lucy tried to stop him, but he told her to save the money for the academy. When he mentioned the academy, Lucy finally gave in.
“I’m sorry, Aiden. I shouldn’t have forced my food preferences on you,” Lucy said apologetically as they left the shop.
“It’s fine. It was a good experience.”
“You’re not just handsome; you’re kind too. But I’m glad you found a dessert you like. Right?”
Aiden nodded silently.
The warmth of the paper package in his hands lingered.
The pie’s warmth.
Just like the scarf.
And Lucy’s embrace.
And the pie.
How had he lived so unaware of all the warmth the world had to offer?
Aiden turned to glance back at the shop fading into the distance.
He had bonded with someone who shared his taste, and now he had a shop willing to make a dessert just for him.
Centum was growing on him.
To be continued
Brought to you by Gourmet Scans
Translator: Japchae
Editor: Maize
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