“It’s not like I’m going to keep it,” Edward said. “I just want to watch it.”

“That’s the same thing!” Morris cried.

“Make a copy. I’ll pay for it.”

“No!”

Don’t do it! Please! Morris was vehement.

“Whew,” Edward sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration and annoyance. “Just hand it over before things get ugly.”

“…”

In the end, he couldn’t refuse.

***

“Seriously.” Edward smirked at the memory of Morris’ trembling, a look of despair on his face as he handed over a copy of the recording. It wasn’t as though he had asked for the original; he’d even paid for the recording orb. He couldn’t see what the problem was. He was a little annoyed at the emperor getting a copy for himself, making liberal use of Edward’s success.

Why do I even want this? Edward began playing the recording. It wasn’t like him to go through so much trouble for something so inconsequential. Even as the recording played, he couldn’t find an answer.

It was like the first time he’d seen her, unable to say anything despite his undeniable attraction. Just like when his heart, which he’d thought was dead, fluttered for the first time.

“Don’t go, Killian, my dear son!”

“…”

The play was like any other school play. It was fine—not as good as a professional play, but not terrible, either. Its appeal, or lack thereof, might have been lost on him anyway, given his general disinterest in theater in the first place. Still, he didn’t particularly like it. He watched with zero emotion. As usual. Edward had never been very emotional, despite his loving parents and good upbringing.

“I’m sick of it. Please let me go, mother!”

The plot was unique. It used dramatic story elements to hook the audience. The male lead, Killian, was a noble—a noble of the highest caliber, at that. But the man didn’t want to be a noble. No one saw him for who he was, only as a noble, and he was sick of being treated like an object. He hated his father, who brought in mistress after mistress, and his mother, who obsessed over her son because of her husband’s neglect. Killian wanted to run away from it all.

So as soon as Killian came of age, he planned his escape under the guise of a trip. And during this trip, he fell in love with a woman at first sight, even though he was already engaged to a woman he loved. Perhaps he only loved his fiancée because he was engaged to her, and it was an easy match. He’d fallen for her as soon as he met her.

Since he already had a fiancée, Killian denied his feelings for this other woman, but he couldn’t help himself in the end. The woman couldn’t resist being drawn to Killian, who seemed so indecisive. The two continued to meet while hiding their feelings, and in the end, they ended up falling in love.

“Oh, my love. I never knew what love was before I met you. It feels as though I’ve gone mad.”

The woman giggled at his words. She looked bashful, lovely, and beautiful. She was radiant. No man could possibly resist falling in love with her.

It was Shea.

Edward now understood why Morris had said that her presence overshadowed the other actors. She was so radiant that she couldn’t help but be seen as the lead actress, even though she did nothing but stand there. And her acting was much more natural than that of the male lead.

Falling in love with her even deeper, Killian confessed his secret, weighed down by guilt. “I have a fiancée!”

Shea shed tears in response. “Will you please tell me?”

“Sarah…”

“Tell me that our encounter was destined. That you were genuinely happy while we were together. That you loved me!”

“…”

“Would you tell me that?” Her smile as she said this was truly beautiful.

And it was obvious now why the play had ultimately failed. All Edward could see was her. Her smile and her tears overshadowed anyone else, even the male lead, who was also crying.

The moral of the play was to stay loyal to your fiancée; that you shouldn’t risk everything for a fleeting emotion or betray the faithful woman who waited for you. But Shea had made that fleeting romance seem justifiable. The moral of the story had failed to come across.

She had become the heroine of the play in only one scene.

As he watched the recording, Edward found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Shea, even though he knew that the real Shea was completely different. It felt as though the Shea onstage was also a part of Shea Grande, as if the character onstage was a hidden part of her true self.

“What are you doing?” Edward’s aide, Cheshire, interrupted him with a bitter look on his face.

Edward answered without taking his eyes off the recording. “Cheshire.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“My father once told me something.”

“What did he say?”

“No matter what, if you react differently to someone, even for a fleeting moment… if you can’t take your eyes off them… even if that fluttering in your heart seems tiny and insignificant… if you feel it, don’t let that person slip away.”

“…”

“If you don’t want to regret it for the rest of your life,” Edward added. “It appeared to be based on my father’s own experience.”

It did sound like something that Marquess Griffith, famous for his undying love for his wife, would say. The marquess had never taken his eyes off his wife, from the moment he met her.

Cheshire had been born into a family that served the Griffith family and had spent his whole life in service. That’s exactly the kind of thing a wife-obsessed man would say.

Edward’s gaze remained fixed on the recording. “Isn’t it strange?”

“What is?”

“Why did I suddenly think of that?” It wasn’t as though he’d been trying to remember his father’s advice. He couldn’t comprehend it himself. “I don’t get it.”

“…”

“I really don’t.”

Shea Grande, why can’t I stop thinking about you?

***

“Achoo!” Shea shivered.

“Did you catch a cold?” Lucy asked.

“Of course not. Someone must be talking about me or something.”

“Then you would be sneezing constantly. Do you know how many people talk about you?”

“I guess that’s true,” Shea muttered.

She looked out over the greenhouse, which was full of tropical fruit that should be out of season. Anyone could have seen that planting this many fruit trees and maintaining such a sizable greenhouse would take a lot of money and effort. Then again, she had spent a fortune converting one of the Grande family trading houses into Sangria, with her living quarters upstairs, and filling the entire garden with greenhouses. Fortunately, the building belonged to her parents, or she might have spent even more money.

If Shea hadn’t been so rich, or if she had been more knowledgeable about spending money, she never would’ve started this. It would have been far too risky. She’d sunk hundreds of gold into it. She would never have been able to begin without the profits from her family business, run by someone she trusted. Though the Grande family’s business wasn’t well known, it was one of the most profitable ventures in the capital.

The profits she earned from the Grande territory were sizable as well. For some reason, the residents of her territory were extremely generous with their offerings. Though she never extorted anyone, those strange people gave part of their own share to her as well.

Not that she’d ever asked for any of it. Then again, it was the reason she was able to run Sangria as a hobby. She hadn’t expected her café to become this popular, to be honest. She had only converted the bar downstairs into a café as a place for people to hang out as they pleased. Now it had become so popular that she could no longer do with it as she pleased. Her dream had been to take it easy, but now she was forced to run it as a business.

Of course, if the customers heard her say this, they would object. They would say she did as she pleased anyway. But this was how she felt.

She wondered whether opening a café had been the right choice in the first place. It had given the boy who’d fallen into her lap somewhere to live and something to do later on. It would have been bad for him to grow up without any social interaction. He was unnecessarily kind, and she knew he would definitely feel guilty if he didn’t eventually work for a living.

How foolish.

“What should I do first, my lady?” Lucy asked.

“Go ahead and pick the fruit first.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Call Fel and make him help you. That’s what farmhands are for.”

“That’s what slaves are for, too,” Lucy said.

“That’s why I’m making you do it.”

Look at that smile. Even though I called you a slave.

Not that it was inaccurate. Shea had bought the girl when she was on the brink of starvation in the slums, begging Shea to buy her. The girl had said she could do anything and was even about to take off her clothes when Shea stopped her and bought her on a whim.

The current emperor had outlawed the slave trade, but it continued to flourish in the slums because it made money. Because all they had to sell were their bodies.

Shea had purchased Lucy for one gold coin. The slave trader had grinned from ear to ear and thrown in all kinds of other things, saying that a gold coin was more than what the girl was worth. Shea had thrown it all away.

Then, upon noticing Shea’s beauty, the slave trader attempted to kidnap her, aiming to sell her for a high price. Shea killed him and took his money, before calling the guards. The guards would’ve taken the money for themselves, and even if it made it to the palace, it wouldn’t have done her any good. Shea had no qualms about taking the money herself.

And when the girl didn’t have an answer when asked what her name was, Shea gave her the name Lucy. The girl had listed off all kinds of terrible slurs she’d been called as options for a name.

“What now?” Lucy asked.

“Get to work, farmhand.”

“Yes, ma’am, whatever you say.”

The same went for the farmhand. His circumstances had been a bit different, but Shea had basically picked him off the streets as well.

Ugh, charity is not my thing. She bit into a juicy peach.