Rose fell silent for a moment, her lips remaining firmly sealed as she withheld an immediate response.
The manner in which Cecilia referred to the Duchess revealed almost no trace of emotion.
Her voice remained calm, even, and nearly devoid of ripples, like the frozen surface of a lake enduring the depths of a long winter.
As a friend who had stood beside her for many years, Rose knew at least a little about the relationship shared between mother and daughter.
It had never been truly poor.
Yet neither had it ever been warm.
There had always been an invisible barrier standing between them, cold and difficult to explain through words alone.
Even so, whenever Rose was summoned to the Duchess's private residence, she would occasionally find herself being asked about Cecilia.
Simple questions.
How her training was progressing.
How her health fared.
How she was advancing in the many responsibilities expected of the heir to the family.
Rose was not a naïve woman ignorant of the complexities that accompanied noble life.
She could easily perceive the meaning hidden beneath those seemingly ordinary inquiries.
The Duchess cared deeply for her only daughter.
The problem was simply that such concern was expressed through methods restrained by dignity, tradition, and the crushing weight of a great noble house.
Such was the way of the aristocracy.
Even affection was often forced to bow before protocol and family honor.
There was scarcely a corner of their lives that remained untouched by expectation and custom.
Rose herself had been born a noblewoman.
Yet compared to an Imperial Ducal House that had preserved its bloodline and prestige for generations, her own upbringing had been far less restrictive.
"The Duchess truly adores the beauty of flowers. Nevertheless, Cecilia, I offer my sincerest gratitude for your generosity in offering those roses to me. However, I fear Her Grace may be disappointed should she discover that the flowers she tends with such care have suddenly diminished in number."
"You need not concern yourself with such a trivial matter. If their number decreases, she need only instruct the gardeners to restore the garden to its former appearance."
"I wholeheartedly appreciate your kindness. Yet it would still create additional work for innocent people."
A soft laugh escaped Cecilia's lips.
The sound was light and clear, a rare melody seldom heard by anyone beyond her closest circle.
"That is one of the things I admire most about you, Rose."
Her eyes rested calmly upon her friend.
"You always think of others before yourself. Even when you possess every right to ask for something, your first concern remains the burden it may place upon those around you."
Rose merely offered a small smile.
Yet Cecilia continued before she could protest.
"Very well. Since I am not a woman who enjoys retracting words once they have been spoken, I shall choose another solution."
Her gaze shifted toward the flowers swaying gently beneath the breeze.
"As for the roses you cherish so dearly, I shall instruct the gardeners to acquire the finest seeds available beyond these grounds. That way, not a single flower belonging to the Duchess need be disturbed."
"Even so, it would still inconvenience many people, Cecilia."
"Not at all."
The answer came without the slightest hesitation.
"On the contrary, they would likely be delighted to receive a task directly from their lady."
Rose opened her mouth to object once more, but Cecilia continued before she had the opportunity.
"Rose, do not forget one thing. You, too, were born a noble."
Those eyes carried a gentle firmness.
"The people who devote their lives to this castle do not view every task as a burden. For many of them, receiving a direct order from the ruling family is considered an honor."
"Far preferable to spending their days without purpose or sinking into the monotony of an unchanging routine."
She then relaxed slightly against her seat.
"So cast aside that worry. As long as what we do violates neither honor nor harms another soul, there is little reason to dwell upon it further."
At last, Rose released a quiet sigh.
"Very well, Young Lady."
One of Cecilia's brows rose immediately.
"Ah? That habit of yours resembles the roots of an ancient tree buried deep within the earth. It is remarkably difficult to uproot."
"It is precisely the same with you, Young Lady."
"Oh?"
"You regularly force yourself to do things you clearly dislike, yet continue repeating them without ever uttering a complaint."
For a brief moment, Cecilia found herself speechless.
The remark had struck its target with unerring accuracy.
Her slender fingers, adorned with a beautifully engraved rune ring, drifted toward the ceramic cup resting upon the table.
With graceful elegance, she lifted it and took a small sip of the warm liquid within.
Moments later, a faint crease appeared between her brows.
"The tea served today possesses an exceptionally dreadful flavor."
Rose narrowed her eyes slightly, concealing the amusement threatening to surface.
She then lifted her own cup and sampled the tea with the refined grace expected of a noble lady.
"To my palate, it is rather delightful."
Cecilia slowly turned her head.
"A remarkably subtle and precise insult, Rose."
"That is only because Young Lady has never truly enjoyed tea from the very beginning. I am merely stating a fact."
"A fact, hm?"
Cecilia glanced down once more at the liquid swirling within her cup.
"You are not mistaken."
A quiet breath escaped her lips.
"For years now, I have forced myself to sample countless blends gathered from every corner of the realm. Teas praised as extraordinary by nobles, merchants, and devoted connoisseurs alike."
"Yet even today, they all remain foreign to me."
"It is as though my tongue was destined to reject them."
Cecilia's words were not a fabricated complaint.
Rose understood that better than most.
The peculiar mystery surrounding Cecilia's dislike of tea had remained a small secret among those closest to her for many years.
And even now, not a single person had ever managed to uncover the true reason behind it.
No matter how many renowned tea masters were invited.
No matter how many rare leaves were imported from distant lands.
The outcome never changed.
Every cup tasted the same to Cecilia.
An endless parade of flavors that failed to stir even the slightest affection within her heart.
A mystery that, after all these years, remained unsolved.
She herself had been burdened with no small amount of trouble over the years in pursuit of countless tea varieties gathered from every corner of the realm.
She had long since lost count of how many renowned tea masters had been personally invited in an effort to satisfy Cecilia's curiosity.
Yet in the end, most of them departed with gloomy faces and heavy steps.
The finest teas they proudly presented.
The treasured blends that had elevated their names and earned them acclaim across distant territories.
Every single one met the same fate when confronted by the palate of the Duke's heir.
At times, Rose could not help but feel a measure of sympathy for those unfortunate artisans.
They arrived with their heads held high and their hearts brimming with anticipation.
Some dreamed of receiving praise from the daughter of a Duke.
Others hoped to further enhance their reputations among the nobility.
Many envisioned rewards of gold, patronage, or political favor bestowed in recognition of their craft.
Yet reality was often far crueler than expectation.
What they carried home was neither admiration nor precious gifts.
Instead, they departed burdened by a succession of cold criticisms capable of striking at the very foundation of a tea master's pride.
To make matters worse, Cecilia was not someone who softened her opinions with pleasant words.
She always spoke plainly and without embellishment.
As a result, many of those esteemed tea artisans left with pale faces, as though they had just received judgment from a royal magistrate.
Rose would not have been surprised if some of them still awoke in the middle of the night, haunted by the merciless remarks that had once fallen from Cecilia's lips.
The memory caused Rose to recall something that had long lingered within her thoughts.
A question that, even after all these years, had never received a truly satisfying answer.
"How do you manage it, Young Lady? Especially during the grand tea gatherings held at the Imperial Palace?"
Cecilia's gaze shifted toward her.
"You mean how I am able to finish an entire cup without leaving a single drop behind?"
"Precisely."
Rose nodded slowly.
"It is something that has puzzled me for a very long time."
Cecilia lowered the porcelain cup from her hand.
Then, with deliberate grace, she raised one of her slender fingers, revealing a silver ring resting elegantly upon her index finger.
The artifact's surface was adorned with intricate engravings of ancient runes intertwined with one another, forming a mysterious circular pattern that seemed almost alive beneath the sunlight.
A faint glow, barely visible to the naked eye, shimmered softly across its surface.
"This ring is a specialized magical artifact."
Rose's attention immediately settled upon the object.
"A magical artifact?"
"It possesses the ability to suppress all sensations of taste upon my tongue for a limited period of time."
Rose's eyes widened instantly.
"Truly? I had no idea the ring you always wear was a magical artifact."
"Its existence has never been publicly disclosed."
Cecilia's fingertips brushed lightly across the silver surface.
"It is considered part of an essential security protocol."
"A security protocol?"
"Indeed."
Her voice remained calm and measured.
"It would create an exceedingly troublesome situation if I were to openly reject food or drink personally offered by Her Imperial Highness the Princess."
Even as she spoke, her expression remained perfectly composed.
"An action as insignificant as that can easily give rise to misunderstandings and, in time, develop into unnecessary diplomatic tensions."
Rose gradually understood her meaning.
The world of nobles often possessed a remarkable talent for turning trivial matters into serious complications.
A misplaced glance.
A delayed response.
An untouched cup.
Any of them could become fuel for speculation among those who delighted in court politics.
Yet another concern quickly surfaced within her thoughts.
A far more personal one.
"But... does forcing yourself in such a manner truly have no adverse effects upon your body?"
The worry hidden within her question was impossible to conceal.
It lingered clearly in her voice, carrying the sincere concern of a friend who had spent many years standing at Cecilia's side.
Rose knew well that eliminating the sensation of taste did not automatically alter what entered the body.
If Cecilia's body truly rejected tea by nature, would forcing herself to consume it not remain dangerous?
A faint smile graced Cecilia's lips.
It was as though she had effortlessly read every concern turning within her friend's mind.
"I understand what you are thinking, Rose."
Her gaze was calm and reassuring.
"So cast aside your worries."
Her fingertip lightly tapped the surface of the ring once more.
"The abilities of this artifact extend far beyond merely suppressing taste."
Rose immediately devoted her full attention to the explanation.
"As long as its enchantment remains active, this artifact can also neutralize poisons and various harmful substances that enter my body."
The lavender eyes of the young noblewoman widened with unmistakable surprise.
"You mean the artifact maintains two protective functions simultaneously?"
"Precisely."
Cecilia nodded.
"That is why I have never been particularly concerned about formal banquets."
She casually lifted her cup and took another sip.
"Whether poison or any substance capable of harming me, all of it will be neutralized before it has the opportunity to cause trouble."
"An extraordinary artifact..."
"Indeed."
Cecilia's gaze drifted toward the garden stretching beyond the pavilion.
The flowers swayed gently beneath the breeze, painting the landscape with vibrant colors beneath the afternoon sun.
"So forget the concerns clouding your thoughts."
Her voice remained composed, carrying the quiet confidence of someone who had long since learned to navigate dangerous waters.
"I would never set foot in a place overflowing with schemes and political interests without preparing myself beforehand."
The corner of her lips rose once more into a faint smile.
"Should you not know me better than anyone else within this castle?"
Rose released a quiet sigh.
The anxiety that had lingered within her chest gradually faded away.
"Ah. Of course, Cecilia."
"Just look at yourself."
A soft chuckle escaped Cecilia.
The gentle sound of her laughter echoed beneath the pavilion's marble canopy.
At times, she genuinely found amusement in watching Rose become so flustered that she alternated between formal and informal forms of address within the same conversation.
A truly unique friend.
And deep within her heart, Cecilia had long ago made a silent vow.
No matter what storms awaited in the future, she would protect this woman with every ounce of strength at her disposal.
Slowly, she rose from her seat.
The garments she had changed into after training shifted gracefully with her movements, lending her an air of effortless elegance befitting the heir of a great ducal house.
Then, with a calm voice that seemed to conceal something beneath its surface, she spoke.
"Come with me."
Rose blinked softly.
"Is there something you wish to show me?"
"More accurately, a secret. No, not quite a secret."
A mysterious glimmer flickered within Cecilia's eyes.
"Rather, it is new information that may prove quite useful to you."
The look she carried was difficult to decipher.
Neither entirely serious nor entirely casual.
Yet it was enough to stir curiosity within anyone who met it.
"Something important that you ought to know."
Rose fell silent for a brief moment.
Curiosity immediately began to blossom within her chest.
Nevertheless, she bowed her head gracefully.
"I shall follow your command."
"Still as stiff as ever."
That light complaint drew an unconscious smile from Rose.
Though confusion continued to linger regarding Cecilia's intentions, she promptly rose from her seat.
Without further delay, the lavender-haired woman followed after the Duke's heir, who had already begun walking away from the pavilion.
Together they made their way along the quiet passages of the castle.
Their footsteps echoed softly through corridors lined with stone and history, while distant rays of sunlight filtered through tall windows, casting golden patterns across the floor.
Neither spoke as they proceeded deeper into the castle.
One was occupied by anticipation.
The other by thoughts known only to herself.
At length, their path led them away from the more frequented sections of the estate and toward a concealed corridor seldom used by servants or visiting nobles.
A secluded passage that led directly to Cecilia's private chambers.