Raven L. Osvard placed a finger on his shapely chin as he worried. He stood outside a bakery in the Royal Capital, where lines formed day after day. Baked goods could be glimpsed through gaps in the bakery’s wooden shutters. They’d been made with more consideration for appearance than taste.
At the florist’s shop next door, however, flowers bloomed proudly right outside, their mellow aromas wafting into the street. Tulips, daffodils, and wattles announced the season, arranged as if they were in a flower garden. Just looking at them would’ve cheered anyone up.
On the other side of the street was a jewelry store. Its calm blue signage gave off the impression of high quality. In the display window, behind one large pane of glass, was a display shelf, and upon it there rested such items as small diamond earrings, a large emerald brooch, and a topaz ring, delighting the eyes of passersby.
Any of these items would, in their own way, make a woman happy, if given as a present. The problem lay with the recipient’s personal tastes. “Hmmm,” intoned Raven, tilting his head as he pondered it. “Buying a lady something to wear might put her off, especially since we’ve only met twice. That’s where personal preferences matter the most. Still, if it’s not too expensive, perhaps I could get away with it. Something like a pair of earrings to go with that dress... Come to think of it, didn’t she toss an earring away?”
She might not be very interested in accessories, but if I went with those diamond earrings in wrought gold, which happen to be on display in the window just now—they might make a good replacement. If I said something like, “It appears you lost one of your earrings in all that commotion on the train,” she’d probably accept it. She wouldn’t want anyone to press the question of where exactly she lost it, after all.
“It might still feel a bit cumbersome, if I only give her these. Thinking of something else she lost, I could buy her some shoes. But if I got her size exactly right, that might be off-putting, too, and besides, there aren’t any shoe shops nearby. It would probably be better to get them bespoke, anyway...”
I should leave that until after we have an established relationship—the kind where she’ll let me touch her feet.
Raven glanced away.
“That being the case, the next candidate would be...flowers, I suppose. After all... Yes, flowers should seem innocuous, given in celebration of her new life here. They should pair well with the jewelry, too. Maybe one flower would be best, though; if I gave her a bouquet, she might have trouble finding a place to put it.”
A rose would be too on the nose, so I’ll pull back and go with something like a daffodil. Why not? Something about it just feels well-suited to the noble atmosphere of her mansion.
“Now, I’d like her to make me some tea, anyway, so let’s give her some to go with the baked goods. They can be stored for a long time as well.”
Right, then. I’ll get something from all the shops around me. It almost feels pointless to have worried over it all now, but I consider the recipient of these gifts puzzling enough to be worth the worry. I don’t know what sort of gift would please her. I still know nothing, understand nothing, about her. But learning what I don’t know will be fun.
Fun was the standard by which Raven measured his life. No other conception of value really made much sense to him. Slipping the diamond earrings into his jacket pocket and placing the single daffodil in the paper bag, already crammed with baked goods, he set out toward the address that Octavia had given him yesterday.
It was in a quiet neighborhood, a short walk away from the center of the Royal Capital. It was not among the terraced houses, but was a detached home. It did seem a bit small to be called an earl’s villa, but to a single woman, living alone, it probably seemed large. I wonder if she plans to employ servants and the like. Without thinking, he counted the number of windows, noted whether or not it had a garden, and tried to judge the house’s interior dimensions from the outside. Bad habits like this were an occupational hazard for Raven, and he hoped Octavia would overlook it.
Although no one had given him permission, Raven stepped up to the front door, coughing. The door was inlaid with stained glass panels. After ringing the doorbell, he took a deep breath. Perhaps he was getting a little carried away. Despite his boldness, this was his first time visiting a woman’s house without any prior arrangements. A single woman, at that.
But the front door did not open.
“Huh?!”
Instead, a sash window on the second floor opened. The mansion’s owner—Octavia herself—frowned down at Raven.
“So, you really did come today.”
“Oh, should I not have?”
“I’m still busy cleaning.”
“So it would seem.”
Octavia had a kerchief wrapped around her head, and she held a broom. The circumstances were obvious. If Raven were curious about anything at all, it would’ve been the question of whether or not that kerchief on her head was one of the Imperial Heirlooms.
“Er, as you’ve come all this way, I feel terrible saying this, but today is...”
“I’ll help you.” More than any sweets, flowers, or accessories, it was help that she needed. She was not like other young ladies of the aristocracy.
Having made this offer with all due self-discipline, Raven watched Octavia panic to quite an amusing extent.
“Eh? No! There’s no reason you should go to so much trouble.”
“I’ll just come in, now.”
“No, wait! The door is lock—”
“No, it isn’t. You forgot to lock it. Really, quite careless of you. I’ll be intruding now.”
“Ehh?! That can’t be.”
Raven, who had deftly picked the lock on the door while Octavia was still searching for a response, promptly opened the door. If she thought she could keep out the oft-rumored Phantom Thief with such an old lock, she was sadly mistaken.
But she was quick, too. By the time Raven had stopped in the entrance hall and cast an eye around his surroundings, she had already come running down the stairs.
“Wait, what do you think you’re—”
“Here you are. A housewarming gift.” First, he whipped out the daffodil and presented it to her. He knew it was vital to make a preemptive strike. Octavia, who was closing in on Raven, came to a halt. She appeared to be startled. Raven kept his gaze firmly fixed on her, to be sure he wouldn’t miss a thing. It was just as if he were stalking his prey.
“The house may not be ready for you to display this just yet, but if you wouldn’t mind accepting it, at least...”
“R-Right. Thanks. Actually, this is perfect timing. I’ve just put a flower vase on this windowsill,” said Octavia, indicating a large window at the end of the entrance hall. Beyond a small bush outside, one could see more buildings. Apparently, it faced the back alley. She had better buy some curtains, thought Raven.