In all of Darius's memories with Elizia, this was the first time I'd seen her worried. I still retained the past memories of this body, though they serve little purpose considering how uninformed this guy is, but both heads are full of pleasurable memories spent with that angel.
I even feel bad. I'm a very frequent client of Elizia's, it's no wonder I've told her my whole life story three times while drunk after an entire session of ours. I also understand that I'm like a golden goose for her, as I've literally paid a lot for her services.
Women are complicated creatures... Hah.
No point overthinking it now. I need to get my head straight and figure out how to get into that mansion undetected. I can use the cook's situation to my advantage, as long as I can get to him first.
His name is Vivandir, a poor soul who was a baker his whole life and suddenly found favor with the count by creating delicious breads, even generating an additional recipe for the count thanks to selling food. I know this because I tried the cakes they made, and wow, they're tasty!
If I recall correctly, Elizia said to check out a certain place. It's called Divine Flavor Café, and that's where this guy works when Count Vandric is away, managing the business by selling expensive and delicious products to the high aristocracy.
I didn't exactly want to spend money there, after this, I'll lose the funds I have and then I'll fight with beggars on the street for a piece of bread... Oh, screw it, let's go!
The Divine Flavor Café is located in the Rose District, the same as the count's mansion, right next to the shops where the aristocracy likes to make expensive purchases, pretending not to notice the poor outside rubbing their faces against the glass.
It's an pretentious place, full of lace curtains and the smell of burnt sugar in the air. Just stepping inside gives me a kind of guilt that only those who've paid a small fortune for a nail-sized cake know.
As soon as I push the door open, a small bell rings. A stylized butler looks me up and down with a mixture of disdain and boredom, perhaps recognizing that I bought the cheapest clothes from the shop I was in before.
"May I help you, sir...?"
"I'm looking for Vivandir. He's a friend of mine. I need to talk to him about... about, uh..."
"About?"
"Yeast!"
I immediately give him a thumbs-up to show how confident I am that he'll let me pass because I'm an idiot, with the kind of expression that says, "I'm not really paying attention, I just want you to obey because I'm rich."
"Vivandir is in the back, supervising the ovens. Staff only..."
Tsk. This guy isn't going to let me pass that easily, fine. If I put on a bit more confidence, maybe they'll bring the baker out, and then I can work something out.
"Alright. Get me a table. I want an Imperial Cake and a Dracolisk Milk Coffee... I'll pay in advance, no need for that ugly look!"
Prejudice in these areas is strong, huh. As if being judged just because I'm wearing poor clothes wasn't enough, they're also going to judge me just because I ordered the cheapest things I saw on the reception's little menu board. Give me a break.
The butler guides me to the nearest available table, and I finally have the chance to sit in peace, having already handed over the delicate coins from which I will never financially recover. I cross my legs and arms, now I need to project the image of a demanding client who wants to speak with the manager.
If that sped up the conversation with Vivandir, that would be great.
At least I had a chance to relax a bit now. There's a band playing soft music in the background, with boring noble girls and boys talking about some random gossip, and here I am, lost in the middle of the world.
I'm like a black dot on a white canvas. Besides not fitting in with these snobs, I hate sharing space with them, I feel more disgust than anything else.
But... I admit it's been a crazy adventure. Dying run over, waking up in a brothel, losing my virginity mentally, realizing I'm hated by my family, finding the love of my life imprisoned, almost dying, almost getting castrated...
Wait a minute, aren't I practically just thinking about a normal life from my world?
I'd rather think about that than waste my time listening to the idiots at the other tables talk about me. Oh, of course, I'm the topic of gossip.
"Duke Moonlight must really be desperate for a male heir soon, that's why he accepted that bastard into the family..."
"Yes, no doubt about it. He's a handsome and wise man, it's tragic that he has to mix with dirt because Madame Leliana didn't bear him more children..."
Come on, I'm right next to you. It's not hard to recognize me either, please. You could save those words for later and whisper them into each other's ears when you're at a tea party or whatever.
"It's tragic, isn't it? Who would want to live under the same roof as him? I feel sorry for Miss Kristia; if she had been born a man, this misunderstanding would never have happened."
"I also prefer not to imagine Madame Leliana's heartbreak."
"A shame he wasn't buried with his mother in the godforsaken place they found him..."
"That mistake didn't need to drag on for twenty years. He's still being hosted in the palace, isn't he?"
"He is. They say Madame Leliana doesn't even leave the East Wing anymore."
"Could you manage it? Imagine living with that."
"It's almost like sleeping with a rat in your cradle."
"I bet he can't even read."
"He knows enough to pay for prostitutes, according to rumors."
"Of course. People like that always have a talent for low things."
"Hey, you damned butler! Is the chef of this place sending manure for the customers to eat?!"
My shout silences everyone, and for a change, I get a bunch of stares. Some of disgust, others of disdain, indifference, and such a wide variety that I'm impressed by others' sentimentality.
Since I'd gone this far, there was no turning back. I shoved the chair back and slammed my fists on the table, cutlery flew into the air and coffee spilled onto the white tablecloth, while I glared at the butler as if I wanted to kill him.
"I asked you a simple question, are you deaf? Did the person who made this put horse shit in it?! The only reason I ordered a cake like this is because I like it, but this tastes awful! I demand to speak with the manager, N-O-W!"
How embarrassing, how embarrassing! I'm acting like a spoiled little girl in a shop! May this never be replayed on Judgment Day, I wouldn't be able to look anyone in the face!
The butler adjusted his monocle with a slight, trembling gesture, probably fearing I'd grab that porcelain cup and smash it on his head. Instead of giving him a chance, I circled the table and stomped my foot towards the fellow, giving him that furious, annoying-customer expression.
I took another step, almost treading on the unfortunate man's expensive shoe. He recoiled instantly, swallowing his own arrogance along with the knot of his tie. I could see sweat beading on his forehead, hesitant, probably weighing in his mind the chance that I truly was a spoiled and violent aristocrat.
I just needed to maintain the facade.
"I... of course, sir. This way..."
He took a deep breath and quickly surveyed the other customers, as if checking if anyone from the high nobility was paying attention, though I knew everyone was now only talking about me. He approached discreetly and, with a whisper cut short by fear, finally conceded:
"Second corridor, to the left, past the kitchen. If anyone asks, I saw nothing."
"Thank you, now I'm going to give that asshole a piece of my mind!"
With my tough-guy pose intact, I scuffed the café's expensive carpet as I made my way to the back, following exactly what the butler said.
The heat from the ovens increased with each step until the delicious scent of butter and brigadeiro hit me with a punch, filling me with childhood memories. Inside, I saw a chubby, sweaty man in a white apron stained with flour and thin, chicken-feather-like hair.
According to the description Elizia gave me, this was supposed to be the guy.
"Hey, Lord of Breads!"
He turned and, at the same instant, dropped the sack of flour, as if not believing who he was seeing.
"Mr-Mr. Darius!?"
"Relax, my partner. Today's your day."
"My day...?"
I approached and wrapped my arm around the baker's plump neck, pulling him very close, wanting to scare off the rest of the staff who had suddenly become interested in the scene unfolding.
"I heard you're sweet on a girl, huh. What if I told you I could get her for you?"
"I-I don't understand what you're talking about."
"Miette doesn't like liars, Vivandir."
His nervousness erupted with a drop of sweat trickling down his forehead. I hit a nerve right away, good stuff.
"I already told you I don't know what you're talking about. Can you take your hand off me?"
"Seriously? Ohh... well, I guess I'll have to gift her to a friend, since you're not interested."
I finally took my arm off and turned my back, shrugging, but just as I was about to walk out the door, I felt a little tug on my sleeve. The poor guy bit the bait.
"W-Wait! W-Were you serious?"
"I'm no liar, Vivandir! Far from it!" I rubbed my hands like a swindler looking at a rare jewel. "I just need a tiny favor; if you do it for me, I'll make Miette yours forever."
"Wh-What?"
"I need to get into Count Vandric's mansion. Disguised."
Vivandir swallowed hard. He seemed to weigh all the options in his fat head. If he said no, he'd probably suffer all night for losing the love of his life. If he said yes... well, maybe he could get away with it and still get a damn beautiful woman.
"Just one day?"
"Maybe two."
He stared at me for long seconds. Then, finally, sighed and nodded in agreement.
"Alright. There's a delivery tomorrow morning. One of the assistants got sick. You'll come with me as a substitute. But if anyone asks, you're my cousin."
"Deal!"
And so, we shook hands. The chance was in my lap, I just needed to get in, find that document, and get out. As for Miette's case... I'd figure it out later, there's always a way.
Get ready, Count, I'm going to screw with your life!