That afternoon, they served the freshly made marmalade with scones during tea with Julius.
“So, how’s the marmalade, my lord? The three of us made it together,” Mari asked.
“It’s delicious. It sounds like the three of you had fun making it,” Julius replied lightly.
Mari and Mira, standing by, shot him sharp glares, as if mentally urging him to praise Sophia more. Julius, noticing their intensity, hastily added, “D-do you enjoy making jam?”
“Well… I wouldn’t say I love it, but it was one of the few things I could look forward to,” Sophia admitted.
She explained how she had started making jam to make her solitary meals more enjoyable without spending much money. She had cherished trips to the market with the head maid to buy fruit, finding it a small but meaningful pleasure.
Back then, since she was entrusted with the role of inheriting the viscountcy, Sophia prioritized studying and work, avoiding hobbies that required time to enjoy. In the end, making jam was all she had left.
As Sophia quietly shared this, she noticed the atmosphere in the room had grown heavy. Julius, sitting across from her, and Mari and Mira, standing by, all seemed as though they were trying to suppress something.
“Um… Is something the matter? Were you surprised to learn how poor the Manscott family is?”
“…No. Frugality and simplicity are virtues, after all. It’s just… I was thinking how nice it would be if you found many things to enjoy here,” Julius replied.
“Things I enjoy…”
“Even if it’s just something you’re curious about, let me know. You won’t know until you try,” he encouraged.
“Well… actually—”
Sophia mentioned that she’d been curious about the figs in the garden. The next day, Julius took her on a fig-picking outing.
* * *
In a field where fig trees stretched far into the distance, Sophia followed behind Julius, carrying a small handbasket. Her role was to take the figs Julius picked and place them in the basket.
“I only meant the fig tree in the garden,” Sophia said.
“That one was planted as a hobby by my father, and it’s not well cared for, so the figs aren’t very tasty. If we’re going to pick some, it might as well be the good ones,” Julius explained, handing her another fig.
Once the basket was full, the two wandered around the area. Along the way, Sophia’s eyes were drawn to a tree growing on a slope, its branches laden with oval, pale green fruit.
“Are those lemons?”
0 Comments