Chapter 77

Daisy. The woman who came to him as Daisy Therese and became Daisy von Waldeck.

Even if it had been a marriage contracted solely for a title, those around him tried to dissuade me from marrying her. They claimed it was because her origins were unclear, an unacceptable background for someone to bring in as a wife. But Maxim von Waldeck had no intention of marrying anyone else.

No. If anything, he had demanded a title as payment for going to war so he could marry her.

“By the way, do you know what ‘Taste of Heaven’ is?”

“Ah. ‘Taste of Heaven’… are you referring to that cake shop on 8th Street?”

Maxim had asked a strangely frivolous question for a man like him. Despite the unnecessarily poetic name for a cake, his aide understood immediately.

“Is that place really that famous?”

“Yes, sir. In the capital, there are very few people who don’t know it.”

“I see.”

“But why are you suddenly asking about cake…?”

He wondered if it had been a dumb question, but it was that famous? Good thing he asked, then. Maxim decided to put into action the plan he’d only vaguely considered until now.

“I want to hire their head chef. Find out how much it would cost for him to drop everything and come to Waldeck.”

“Do you mean only for the period while you’re staying in the capital?”

“No. Permanently. Once our time here is over, he’ll come to the estate as well. On the condition that none of his recipes are shared elsewhere. Tell him I’ll pay whatever price he names.”

His aide’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected order.

“I’ll carry out the order. But… Captain.”

“What.”

“Are you a fan of… sweets?”

“You’re full of pointless questions today.”

“My apologies.”

The aide bowed his head.

“Well, it’s not that I like them. I simply think I’ll be needing them.”

Maxim let out a faint, quiet smile.

“I’m just a little uneasy.”

He was uneasy?

This was the same man who, even with war looming and people whispering pity behind his back, “he’s marching to his death,” had remained utterly unshaken.

It was strange, though the aide didn’t pry.

To serve Maxim von Waldeck meant observing certain unspoken rules, and one of them was never questioning the captain’s rare personal remarks.

The next question came from Maxim himself.

“Did you marry your wife for love?”

The aide hesitated. He had served at Maxim’s side for years, but this was the very first time his captain had asked about his private life.

“Yes. I fell for her at first sight and pursued her.”

“I see. What do women usually like?”

“Pardon?”

Startled by the unexpected question, the aide questioned him without realizing, then flinched, realizing his mistake.

“My apologies. I spoke out of turn. It won’t happen again.”

“Mm.”

“There was nothing particularly unusual. I simply brought her flowers consistently, small gifts and such…”

“That’s enough. You can leave now.”

Although his captain was strangely indulgent today, the aide knew better than to question it. The aide, who had been about to leave after a polite salute, paused mid-step.

“Ah, letters. I sent her love letters. Every day, consistently.”

“Letters? You had that much to say?”

“No, sir. They were just trivial things. Ordinary bits of daily life.”

“Explain. In more detail.”

Was he actually asking about love letters?

It was an unusual question, but the aide decided to explain a little more concretely.

“Well, things like whether she’d eaten. Whether she slept well. Even something as random as the weather. Big, dramatic words can feel overwhelming, so I kept the letters as light as possible.”

“Hmm.”

Maxim fell silent, his expression thoughtful.

“The important point is showing that you’re thinking of her constantly, even when you’re not by her side.”

Even that cold-blooded man troubles himself over a woman, the aide thought. He had never once seen Maxim keep a woman close in all the years he’d served him. Marriage had changed him in strange ways.

“In the end, it wasn’t about the letters themselves, but the power of time… the steady accumulation of building something together.”

The power of time.

Hearing his subordinate’s words, Maxim’s lips curved slowly.

༺♰༻

Maxim sat alone in the empty office, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Then, as if suddenly remembering, he reached for the necklace he always wore around his neck. He toyed with the pendant for a long moment before abruptly opening the locket. Inside was the picture of his wife. He gazed at her without saying a word.

Really, what did it matter what other women liked? What mattered was what she liked.

“My Izzy… what does she like?”

Mumbling to himself, Maxim retraced every memory he had.

Izzy liked cake.

She wasn’t a child, yet if no one stopped her, she would survive on sweets alone. Her mouth was small, so she always made a mess when she ate. And when asked if she ate more, she’d feign innocence, pretending not to know what he was talking about.

She loved food, yet she got indigestion at the slightest thing. Even though she insisted it was no big deal, she always wore undergarments that were too small for her, stubbornly and foolishly.

Izzy also liked wildflowers.

Especially daisies, so much so that she had named herself after them.

She preferred a simple bouquet of daisies picked from a field, far more than a lavish arrangement of roses ordered from an expensive florist.