Chapter 144 A Talk Of Sweets
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Our time together ends, and I let out a slow breath. The heat in my body hasn’t cooled. If I took Nauru in my arms now, I’d ruin the plan.
I stand and drift to the window. Distance makes desire easier to leash.
”Shall I bring you something to drink?” she asks.
”No. I’m fine.” My answer is gentle but firm, a line drawn in the quiet.
By stepping away, I show her I don’t intend to have her. She reads it at once.
”You’re… kind,” she says.
”Am I?”
Any ordinary man would reach for Nauru. No one boards this ship to be content with a moment and nothing more.
”You’re not like the usual customers,” she murmurs.
”I’m aware.” I’m a man trained in power, a mafia boss, more than most.
”I want you to think about what we discussed,” I add. “But for now… may we just talk?”
”Talk?”
”I came from the royal capital. No sea near it, not even a lake. A world so full of water feels rare to me. Do you like the ocean?” My voice softens, sweetening the air between us.
She’s wary. Of course she is. I need to ease that.
Start with small things, then move.
For me too, knowing her matters. I want the lay of this place—the currents, the tastes, the truths.
”My hometown was close to the sea as well,” she says at last.
”Oh?”
She comes to stand beside me at the window. A good sign.
We lean our backs against the sill and let the talk flow.
”But the fish were scarce,” she says. “Everyone in town blamed the tides.”
”Scarce, with the sea right there…” I muse.
”Yes. Bread was precious, too.”
Around the capital, such shortages are nearly unheard of—even in cities across this country. In a world with railways, to struggle for bread means the far edges, or a place ground down by poverty.
”So I admired the bakers,” she says. “Tried to copy what I saw, somehow.”
”That’s impressive.”
She shakes her head. “Then one bad year, the winds turned against us, and there wasn’t enough to eat.”
Her arms fold over herself, as if to keep out an old cold.
I understand what came after without her saying it: when hunger rose, she sold her body.
She falls quiet. Maybe she thinks she’s said too much.
”I keep several lines of work,” I offer.
”What kind?” Her voice is small.
”I run a confectioner’s.”
”What? Truly?” Nauru’s eyes fly wide; she turns fully to me, as if the word itself were light.
This is the first thing she’s truly reached for.
”I’m not lying,” I say. “Cakes, cookies—the sort you give as gifts. The shop isn’t large yet, but it’s ours.”
I opened it to reconnect with the modern world and because brothels often require practical favors. Compared to liquor or jewelry, a box of sweets is a thoughtful, lighter gift for a working girl or her client. The profits are modest, but the growth is steady.
”That’s… amazing,” she whispers.
”Do you like bread?” I ask.
”I love it. Anything with wheat. And sweets—very much.”
Her green eyes say as much as her voice. I’ve stared down every kind of lie. I trust what lives in Nauru’s gaze.
If I use my little side business as bait, I can keep her interest—and keep her talking.
”I can hold my own when it comes to wheat-based pastries,” I say lightly. “What kind do you like?”
”Cookies are wonderful. For instance—”
And so we fall into our talk of sweets, letting it bloom like a warm oven on a winter morning.
This is a good current. If she wishes it, I could hire her at the shop. We’ll be short on hands soon enough—and once I break the Golden Crab here in this city, expansion is certain. With a wider territory comes more customers, more mouths to please. One more worker won’t strain us; it might even ease the knot in my chest.
To bring her into my world only to discard her would leave a bitter taste.
Time slips by. At last, I straighten.
”I’ll come again,” I tell her.
”I’ll be waiting,” Nauru says, and she means it.
She thinks well of me now, thanks to our talk of flour and sweets. The first step is taken, and with it, I’ve found the thread to unravel the Golden Crab.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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