As soon as I dismissed the chef and reached right behind Luise, she didn’t react at all. I hadn’t bothered to mask my footsteps, yet there she was, kneading the dough absentmindedly. This wasn’t like her. Not only that, she wasn’t actually forming dough. She kept pressing into the same spot, creating what looked more like a mushy flour monster than actual dough.

“Luise.”

“Y-Yes!?” 

She jumped and spun around, visibly startled. It was a bit embarrassing, almost like clapping loudly near a sleeping cat. Sensing my own awkwardness, Luise offered a sheepish smile, her breaths slightly uneven from the surprise.

“Oh, Brother. You’re here?”

“Yeah, just arrived.”

My eyes drifted to her bowl of dough, a mixture that didn’t resemble anything usable. While I may not be a pastry chef, I had been an advisor for the baking club for two semesters—enough to recognize bad dough when I saw it.

“That’s not gonna work.”

At the very least, I could tell if ingredients were viable.

“Haha… I guess not,” she replied, glancing at me nervously.

I knew what she wanted to ask. Fortunately, the chef had given me a heads-up; otherwise, I would’ve been at a loss. Today, I’d make sure Luise had a truly happy day. I’d made that decision.

“I like cookies now.”

There was no need to beat around the bush. Skipping explanations only leads to misunderstandings, as Margrita’s tearful lessons had taught me.

I smiled, conveying my sincerity, and Luise’s eyes widened in disbelief. She likely didn’t expect me to address it so directly.

“Care for a chat?”

I wrapped my arm around her waist, and her face turned red in an instant. I ignored it; today was her day.

Just as we were leaving the kitchen, the chef gave me a thumbs-up from across the room—a “go-get-’em” gesture, perhaps.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’

Despite his rugged exterior, he had the heart of a gentle giant. I couldn’t help but smirk and gave him a thumbs-up back. Sometimes, a thumbs-up calls for another in return.

---

I’d considered heading to the garden, but the wind was too chilly, and I didn’t want Luise freezing outside. So we went to the sitting room, a place I barely used but that the staff had evidently kept spotless. They really took care of this place.

“If you’re here, you should rest. Aren’t you tired?”

I settled Luise into a seat. Despite just returning from our trip to Ulken, she’d immediately gone to the kitchen. Either she was incredibly diligent, or she just loved baking that much.

“Everyone was so kind; I wanted to make a little gift for them.”

Her shy smile silenced me. How could anyone criticize her desire to show gratitude? Even the steward had appreciated her efforts.

And seeing Luise work herself up didn’t sit right with me, yet it wasn’t exactly something I could criticize her for.

“So, what were you making?”

She flinched.

“Well… it started as cookies, but I thought maybe bread…”

She trailed off, casting her gaze down as though contemplating all the cookies she’d made me eat over the years.

There was no need for that. She hadn’t forced anything on me—I had eaten them of my own will.

But she didn’t see it that way; her eyes darted about, unsure. Leaving her in this state would’ve been trouble. That chef really saved the day.

“I like cookies. Have I ever eaten them unwillingly?”

I sat beside her, and she shook her head quickly. Her pink hair brushed against my cheek with the intensity of her motion.

Even so, her face remained a mix of confusion, guilt, and sadness. The chef told her I didn’t eat cookies, and yet I’d just said I liked them. Someone had to be lying.

For someone like Luise, who didn’t suspect others, this was confusing. She’d likely have cried if left alone.

“The chef didn’t exactly lie. It’s true I hadn’t eaten cookies for a while.”

Leaving her alone would only hurt her more, so I clarified.

“It wasn’t because I disliked them. If that were the case, I wouldn’t have eaten the ones the division head gave me, would I?”

I gently patted her head, and she slowly lowered her head.

Was she embarrassed? No. I’d patted her head countless times by now. This wasn’t shyness; she was positioning herself, tilting her head just so to make it easier for me to stroke her hair.

‘Like a capybara.’

That term came to mind. Capybaras, friendly animals known for welcoming touch.

“This might be a bit boring.”

I spoke again as I watched her.

The initial misunderstanding was resolved. The chef hadn’t deceived her, and I didn’t dislike cookies. I could’ve left it there.

But the fact remained that I hadn’t eaten cookies for a long time. To close the matter completely, she deserved an explanation.

“Would you listen?”

“Yes.”

Her prompt answer made me smile softly.

“Then, look up, too.”

“Oh, yes.”

Even though she answered clearly, she hadn’t lifted her head. At least now we could look each other in the eyes as we talked.

---

When Brother asked me to listen, he didn’t speak for a while.

But I didn’t rush him. He’d tell me when he was ready, right now he was only figuring out where to start.

“Four years ago… you know about the Great Campaign, right?”

“Yes, I know.”

I was surprised by his unusual beginning but kept calm. Any sign of distress from me might make him close off again.

“That’s when I met my first love.”

This time, I couldn’t hide my reaction. Hearing about the first love of the man I loved… anyone without a reaction to that would be heartless.

On top of that, he’d met her during a war. This was his first love, yet I’d never met her.

‘No… surely not.’

A dreadful thought flashed through my mind, but I forced it away.

“I wasn’t enough, so she went first.”

Brother’s words shattered that lingering hope. Though he smiled faintly, his eyes betrayed a sadness he couldn’t mask.

---

Brother kept that faint smile as he continued to speak.

He’d started as a member of the Inspection Bureau, had an unexpected promotion to team leader, then found himself in battle—a string of hardships and connections that followed.

“Really, it was like they gathered the strangest people.”

He smiled even more when he talked about his fellow team leaders, whom the textbooks later dubbed the Six Blades. That seemed to be his happiest time, a period he could never return to.

“And to think I fell in love in the middle of that.”

He spoke of a woman named Hecate, and when he did, he smiled widely.

Seeing his expression, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. Hecate must have been deeply loved, and Brother had loved her dearly. But my heart ached, too, knowing he had to let go of someone he loved so much.

Still, I held back my words. Pitying him would be a greater offense.

“…Ah, I forgot to mention something important.”

Lost in his memories, Brother suddenly refocused, shifting the subject.

“Like I said, after the war, before coming to the academy, I didn’t eat cookies.”

My body tensed.

Avoiding a specific food suddenly usually meant something had happened. I’d been unknowingly pushing cookies on him all this time.

“Even during the war, we had sweets sometimes. They served them to keep morale up.”

He chuckled, adding that it’d be hard to stay motivated on stale bread alone. I just nodded. Brother wasn’t really expecting a reply.

“One of those treats was cookies, though calling them that might be generous. They were mostly flour dough with a sprinkle of sugar.”

I imagined the “cookies” he described, essentially sugar-dusted lumps of dough.

Could those even be called cookies?

“They were sweet enough, though, so we ate them. And they were scarce, so we had to ration them.”

Brother chuckled, though his face showed genuine amusement.

“Hecate liked those cookies. Knowing that, others would give her theirs, and she’d share them with me.”

“Those were very precious, then.”

“Yeah, more than anything.”

I understood now. After hearing that, I couldn’t ignore it.

For Brother, cookies weren’t just cookies. They were tokens of his memories, reminders of his first love. And after he’d lost her, those cookies became too painful to touch.

‘Idiot.’

I bit my lip, blinking back tears.

I’d made a terrible mistake. Ignorance had led me to hurt him over and over, from our first meeting until now.

But I couldn’t cry in front of him. How could I? I was the one who’d hurt him, and I’d be crying in front of the very person I’d hurt.

“I’m sor─”

“Don’t.”

My too-late apology was halted by his finger on my lips.

He wore that gentle smile.

“I didn’t eat them because there was no one to share them with. That’s all.”

“But… even so, I—”

“In fact, it was nice eating them again. Who else would take the time to make cookies for me?”

Brother laughed, and the tears I’d held back began to fall.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be letting my tears be my excuse. I shouldn’t be covering my wrongdoing with an apology alone.

“Thank you, Luise.”

Hearing that only made things worse.

But

 Brother held my hand, looking directly at me as tears blurred my vision.

“I mean it. I’m genuinely grateful.”

I couldn’t meet his gaze.

How could I deserve it? I’d been so oblivious, only deepening his pain each time I offered cookies, an unknowing salt in an old wound.

“Those broken memories are piecing back together. You helped me move past the past and look forward to now.”

But his warm smile and gentle grip tilted my face back to his.

“You helped me when I might have been stuck in that past forever.”

With a soft smile, he pulled a small case from his pocket.

“To you, it might seem like chance, maybe even a mistake, but to me, it was a real help.”

And with that, he opened the pink ribbon tied around the case.

“So now it’s my turn to give something back.”

My hands began to tremble as I saw what he pulled from the box. It was a ring—one split in half, its unique shape all the more beautiful.

The same kind of ring that Margrita had. Two halves forming a single, beautiful piece when together.

“Will you accept this?”

I couldn’t stop the tears anymore.

---

After some time, I watched Luise as she admired the ring—the third in the series—with obvious delight, and I felt a swell of satisfaction.

The moment was perfect to address something I’d held back for too long.

“Luise. There’s actually something I wanted to say.”

“Yes! Please go ahead!”

“…You don’t have to keep putting weird ingredients in the cookies anymore.”

“Oh…”

Her enthusiasm dimmed a bit as she glanced down, a little disappointed.

Sorry, Luise. The truth is, I started tasting things a while ago… and now I get why some of the others couldn’t finish them.