Gold Coin and Freesia

“What is that building?”

Cordelia’s eyes sparkled as she pointed out a structure visible beyond the carriage window.

“That’s the Grand Theater. It was completed about five years ago,” Edwin replied, casting his gaze out the window.

“That’s part of the Tride Corporation’s holdings too, isn’t it?”

“I doubt there’s much my father hasn’t laid claim to,” Edwin remarked plainly.

Cordelia nodded quietly. Aaron, the magnate of the Rochester Kingdom, had a reputation for investing in any venture that promised profit. She vaguely recalled her brother Lorenzen describing the Tride family as a fortune that fed on itself.

“The Grand Theater… I’ve always been curious about it.”

“We seem to be nearing our destination,” Edwin noted, checking his pocket watch. “I’ll find out if there’s a schedule and secure good seats for you to visit it later.”

Whether he meant to accompany her or simply arrange the tickets was unclear.

“We’ve arrived,” came the knock on the carriage door, confirming their destination just as Edwin predicted.

“Take my hand,” he offered.

“Wow…” Cordelia breathed out in awe, taking Edwin’s hand as she stepped out of the carriage.

At the heart of Cowell, the capital of the Rochester Kingdom, lay a vast plaza with a fountain at its center. Surrounding it in the cardinal directions were a harbor, religious buildings, a marketplace, and the royal palace.

“I never imagined it would be this large,” Cordelia murmured, covering her mouth with her hand as she took in the surroundings. There was a difference between knowing and seeing. Even the grandeur of the royal palace couldn’t outmatch the sprawl of the city’s exterior.

“It’s the heart of the capital,” Edwin explained evenly, leading her toward the fountain.

“Shall we visit a department store?”

Edwin’s refined face beneath his stylish hat gleamed like a work of art, framed by the sparkling mist of the fountain behind him. But Cordelia found herself momentarily captivated not by his looks, but by the wealth they symbolized. Blinking herself back to reality, she shook her head.

“That’s unnecessary. I can just summon people to the estate for that.”

“Then?”

“…Coffee?”

The breeze picked up, rustling Edwin’s collar, and a faint, unfamiliar scent reached her. It reminded her of the coffee Edwin had enjoyed earlier while she prepared for their outing.

“Are you talking about drinking coffee?”

“Ah, I caught a whiff of something,” she quickly lied, not wanting Edwin to realize she had been entranced by him. It was a decent excuse.

“There’s a coffee house nearby. That’s probably what you smelled,” Edwin said.

“Why don’t we go there?” Cordelia suggested brightly.

At the very least, visiting the coffee house would make her seem less like a lovesick fool caught staring.

“I hear women visit there too.”

“They do, but… It’s not exactly a place suitable for someone of your stature. The taste may not suit you either,” Edwin cautioned.

His concern wasn’t unfounded. Coffee houses, though once popular, had lost much of their appeal among the elite. Nobles and royals still preferred tea culture. Cordelia herself had never tasted coffee, but seeing Edwin drink it every morning piqued her curiosity.

“My father disapproved, so I never tried it. But the aroma from your cup earlier was so delightful,” she admitted.

“Then I shall take you there,” Edwin agreed easily. If Edwin drank it regularly, it couldn’t be entirely unpleasant. If the flavor matched its aroma, it would be a worthwhile experience.

“Are you sure you want to go in?” Edwin asked again when they reached the shabby exterior of the coffee house.

“We’re here. We might as well,” Cordelia said firmly.

Edwin raised a brow slightly before opening the door.

“Well, this marriage is clearly a calculated political move…”

The ringing of a bell silenced the bustling room as all eyes turned toward them. The lively chatter evaporated, replaced by an almost suffocating stillness. Cordelia instinctively grabbed Edwin’s arm.

“Two coffees,” Edwin said calmly, handing over the payment before stepping further inside.

Unfortunately, there weren’t any suitable seats available. The two long tables were nearly full, occupied primarily by men.

“I thought women came here?”

Cordelia had imagined a mixed group of men and women enjoying lively conversations. The stark reality of the scene surprised her. Feeling the weight of curious stares, she clung to Edwin.

“Women rarely frequent places like this,” Edwin explained.

“Ah…”

Unless they were intellectuals, women had little reason to visit coffee houses, and even then, some proprietors actively discouraged them. Many saw women who voiced political opinions as overly assertive. Cordelia, unfamiliar with such societal nuances, had been unaware of this.

“Sir, you can’t just—”

“Shh! That’s Edwin Tride!”

Before an irate man could voice his displeasure, another hastily silenced him, dragging him outside. Others quickly followed, leaving only a few individuals behind, who quietly sipped their coffee while glancing out the windows.

“It seems we now have a seat,” Edwin remarked, guiding Cordelia to the end of one of the long tables.

Moments later, a server brought over two steaming cups of coffee.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Edwin said, gesturing toward her cup.

Cordelia picked it up gingerly, inhaling the aroma before taking a small sip.

“Ugh.”

Her face immediately scrunched up, and she set the cup down.

“Not to your liking?”

“It’s so bitter! Like over-steeped tea,” she complained.

Edwin chuckled, resting his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand.

“You seem to be enjoying this,” she accused, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Everyone has the same reaction at first.”

Though she wanted to blame him for not warning her more, Cordelia knew it was her own curiosity that had brought her here. Complaining would only seem childish.

Still grimacing, she forced herself to swallow the bitter sip she had taken. As she did, she glanced up and caught Edwin laughing softly.

The usually gentle curve of his eyes seemed even smoother today, as if touched by sunlight.

To Cordelia, the coffee was harsh and unpleasant, but Edwin’s smile as he spoke of its charm was captivating. It was beautiful in the same disarming way as the coffee’s bitter allure.

“…”

She found herself peeking at her husband over the rim of her cup. Though it had been some time since their marriage, she still wasn’t immune to his looks. Perhaps his beauty simply suited her taste too well.

“Someday, you’ll find its charm too,” Edwin remarked.