The heavy doors of the study had barely closed behind him when Ji Hoon set the silver tray on the polished table. The obsidian-black coffee jelly gleamed under the chandelier light, each cup topped with perfect swirls of cream, like miniature clouds hovering above a dark ocean.
Madam Ashdown's sharp eyes narrowed as she leaned back onto her seat, crossing one leg over the other. Her jeweled fan tapped lazily against her palm as though she were already bored. She cast Ji Hoon a look of disdain, but his faint smirk irked her enough to make her lean forward.
'Hmph. You think you can impress me with a petty dessert? Very well, boy. I'll taste and play your game. Let's end this quickly.'
She bent forward, spoon in hand. That was when the fragrance touched her nose—roasted, rich, sharp without being harsh. Not sugary, not cloying, but deep, almost commanding.
Her brow twitched. The spoon broke the glossy black surface, and the jelly wobbled, a hypnotic ripple like a dark pond disturbed by a single drop. The cream swirled with it, cloud meeting night.
Her eyes twitched. 'What on earth… it moves as if alive.'
And then, the bite entered her mouth.
The jelly slid over her tongue with impossible softness. Like falling onto a featherbed—springy, comforting, yet with a weight that melted away instantly.
The bitter espresso struck like lightning, swift and overwhelming, a predator leaping upon her senses. Yet before it could consume her, the cream descended, a gentle cloud cushioning the blow, tempering the beast into velvet comfort.
A shiver raced through her spine. Her fan trembled in her grip.
'What—what is this harmony?! But this bitterness...'
"...Is this..."
"Coffee," Ji Hoon said calmly, cutting into her thoughts. His voice was as steady as the surface of the dessert that trembled before her.
"I saw you avoid sweets but drink coffee plain. I figured you prefer bitter notes."
Her lashes flicked upward, caught between irritation and intrigue. 'Coffee...? And the fact that he even noticed what I like just from a single interaction... and more importantly this strange bouncy structure and taste...'
Seeing Madam Ashdown contemplating and deep in thought, Viscountess Yuhwa and Beatrice got interested and wanted to have a taste too.
Viscountess Yuhwa watched, her knuckles white where she clutched her skirt. Beatrice leaned forward, eyes wide, reading every minute twitch of Ashdown's brows. The tiniest crease smoothed, the sharp line of her lips softened.
"...She… seems to like it, is it really that good?" Yuhwa whispered, breathless.
Ji Hoon, still standing calmly, lifted another pair of glasses from the tray. He set one before his mother.
"For you as well, Mother."
Viscountess Yuhwa blinked, startled. "...For me?" Her voice wavered, but when he nodded, warmth spread across her face. She accepted, almost giddy.
"Then… I shall taste it."
She cut into the jelly. The spoon sank effortlessly, wobbling with playful resistance, like a pillow that begged to be touched again. Her first bite met her tongue—
And suddenly, she was falling through the clouds. Sweet, bitter, soft, bold—she felt herself bouncing in slow motion on a bed of heaven's cotton, laughing despite herself. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes. "Ah… it's so gentle… like a warm embrace."
Beatrice, who had been fidgeting at the side, nearly burst. "M-May I… may I have one too, Young Master?!"
Ji Hoon smirked and slid a glass her way. She grabbed it with both hands as if it were treasure.
Her spoon cracked through the surface, and with one bite—her world detonated. The bold espresso was a trumpet blast, the cream a choir of angels harmonizing over it, the texture like diving into a giant, bouncy mattress that lifted her back up every time she sank.
Madam Ashdown's fan snapped open again, trying to hide the tremor at her lips. But the quiver of delight betrayed her.
"Then… what about this jelly structure? How did you make it like… this?" she asked, her voice steady though her eyes betrayed curiosity.
Ji Hoon thought for a moment before answering. "I used a special thickener I made myself," he said simply, careful not to reveal more than he must.
Her eyes narrowed. She could tell from his calm expression that he would not be pressed further. She looked back at her cup, startled for a moment—it was empty. Not a crumb or trace left.
'Me, finishing a dish clean… if the others saw this, they would never believe it.' She thought.
Viscountess Yuhwa and Beatrice both stared at her, holding their breath as they awaited the final word.
Madam Ashdown sat back, eyes on Ji Hoon, who looked at her expectantly.
"Well… what do you think?" he asked evenly.
She closed her fan with a sharp snap. "Don't be late."
Ji Hoon blinked. "...Pardon?"
"Don't make me repeat myself. I said don't be late in two months. I won't give you more time."
Viscountess Yuhwa gasped softly, her face breaking into relief. Beatrice clapped her hands once against her apron, smiling so wide her cheeks hurt. The heaviness in the room cracked and lifted.
But then Ashdown's voice cut back in, slicing the joy short. "By the way… that thickener of yours. Could you sell the recipe to me?"
Ji Hoon froze for a second, his thoughts spinning. 'The thickener… she means the agar? If I sell it now, would...'
The Madam saw his hesitation and pressed on further, as experienced businesswoman.
"How about this, if you sell it for me, I will take sixty gold coins off, only ten gold coins for you to pay, isn't that a good deal?" she said, smirking.
Viscountess Yuhwa and Beatrice were both impressed at the number, especially Viscountess Yuhwa; that could definitely help the family's situation. Still, she didn't say anything; she only looked at her son, letting him do what he thinks is right.
'Sixty coins off?! A tempting bandage for our finances. But selling the agar would be like selling the seed corn. It's the foundation of everything to come—the one thing no one else in this world can replicate. Its value isn't in gold; it's in a future she can't even imagine.'
He shook his head politely. "I'm sorry, Madam. That is something I cannot sell. Perhaps… if I fail the ICC, I will reconsider. But until then, it stays mine."
Ashdown's smile curved, faint and dangerous. "As you wish."
She rose, smoothing her gown, and as she passed him, she bent slightly, her jeweled earrings glinting. Her whisper brushed his ear.
"I am watching you so don't you dare lose on the ICC."
"Yes, I won't."
"And also… maybe I could take a sample from... those?" she whispered, pointing at the Coffee Jello with her eyes.
Ji Hoon's smirk returned. "Of course." He packed some for her.
She swept from the room, and moments later, through the study window, they watched her carriage roll away.
For a brief instant, hidden in the shadows of its curtains, Madam Ashdown looked down at the glass dish resting in her lap, as she whispered to herself. "The heir of Ahn, huh? Who knew you can cook… I have hopes for you, noble boy."
Inside the study, Viscountess Yuhwa turned to her son, her voice trembling with pride. "Cassian… no, son—you were incredible! To think you could sway her of all people…"
Beatrice beamed, hands on her hips. "Hah! As expected of Young Master! I never doubted you for a second."
Ji Hoon let out a quiet breath, smiling faintly at their joy. But inside, his thoughts were heavier.
'Now there's no going back. I must win that competition. For Mother. For this house. For all of us. Failure isn't an option.'
* * *
At de Clein's Second Villa...
Alister sat in his chamber, the candlelight flickering against the walls. He held a glass of wine, staring at it as if it had personally insulted him. His jaw tightened, and he spat out the words with sharp anger.
"How could that little brat scold me like that? Say those things to me... just because he became the new master of the house?!"
He slammed the glass down on the table and grabbed another, drinking it in one rough gulp. His face burned as memories surfaced, bitter and humiliating.
He had never been humiliated these much before.
"And that Cassian... I-I will...! How could he humiliate me like that? Taking my property! I will show him he should never mess with me."
He threw the glass across the room. It shattered against the wall, the red wine dripping onto the floor. His chest heaved. He stood, pacing back and forth, muttering to himself.
"He thinks he can just step in and take what is mine? No. Not on my watch. I will make him pay."
He stopped at the window, staring out at the dark courtyard. The shadows seemed to mock him, but he didn't care. His fists clenched on the table, knuckles white, teeth grinding as he muttered, pacing a little, breathing heavy.
"Yes... he will regret this. I will make him regret this."