Chapter 291: A Shattered Composure and a Petal in Her Hair
At that moment, the woman was completely stunned. The scent washing over her was impossibly rich, yet within that overwhelming fragrance, she could still discern the distinct notes of countless individual flowers. It was a paradox that stirred a rare and deep sense of anticipation within her.
Inside the kitchen, Ren was absorbed in a task of extreme delicacy. With the tip of a small blade, he carefully scraped away the gossamer-thin film from the surface of each jasmine petal. These weren't for a dish, of course; they were for something else entirely.
"Phew… It's been a while since I've done work this fine. It really takes it out of you," he murmured to himself, a faint smile on his lips. "But this should be just about right."
On the counter before him sat several teacups, all but one empty. He placed the carefully prepared jasmine petals—the film and the tiny bottom leaves removed—into a ceramic bowl and began to grind them with a pestle, releasing their purest essence.
Outside, the mysterious guest still hadn't recovered from her stupor. The aroma was simply too much, a cascade of fragrances that defied logic. She felt as though she recognized every single flower, yet she couldn't comprehend how they could all blend into such a perfect, harmonious scent.
The aroma was also tantalizingly fleeting; the moment one fragrance seemed to settle, it was gently swept away by the scent of another, even fresher bloom. The old saying, "a garden overflowing with fragrance," felt like a perfect description for the small restaurant at this very moment.
Kasugano Sora sighed, her voice hazy with bliss. "Mmm, so fragrant… What kind of flower is this?"
Beside her, Sister Cerberus nodded in agreement. A canine's sense of smell was already leagues beyond a human's, and as a Hellhound, hers was exponentially more sensitive. The sheer olfactory pleasure was so overwhelming that she felt herself drifting toward a peaceful slumber.
Sometimes, a scent can conjure a waking dream. For everyone present, it was as if they had been transported to a beautiful, sun-drenched garden, lying on a bed of soft grass, on the verge of a deep and tranquil sleep.
The woman took a deep, deliberate breath, the complex aroma clearing her mind and refreshing her spirit. She was certain of one thing: with a flower tea like this, she could harbor no ill will toward this human. To do so would be to risk never tasting it again—not that she had any ill will to begin with.
As she was lost in thought, Ren emerged from the kitchen carrying a tea tray. Upon it rested an exquisite tea set, its delicate craftsmanship causing the woman's eyes to light up with appreciation. Such artistry was always appealing.
But Ren quickly showed her the true meaning of torment. He moved with a slow, measured grace. Normally, one should be deliberate when serving tea, and Ren's pace was technically perfect. Yet, to the woman, it felt as if a cat's paw was playfully, insistently scratching at her heart. Every step he took seemed to stretch into an eternity.
Finally, Ren placed the tea tray on the table. The woman felt her racing heart begin to settle, but Ren, it seemed, had no intention of letting her off the hook so easily.
Just as she reached for a cup, she noticed there were two teapots and shot Ren a questioning look.
He smiled. "The pot with the gold rim is for warming the cups. There's only enough hot water inside to warm them once."
The woman nodded, about to proceed, when Ren spoke again, a playful glint in his eyes. "No, you can't drink it yet. You have to wait until the main course arrives before you can begin. Otherwise, the flavor won't be quite right."
That single sentence struck the expectant woman like a bolt of lightning. Her composure shattered. A wave of pure frustration crashed over her. It was the torment of a miser staring at a king's ransom through an unbreakable pane of glass—so close, yet utterly unattainable.
Usually, she was the one who tormented the minds of her enemies, who played with the weak. Had the tables truly turned? But she could say nothing; she could only sit there and obey. And that, more than anything, was what made her mind reel.
Ren observed the strange, conflicted expression on her face and smiled. "Feeling a bit tormented?"
The woman's eyes narrowed. "Are you doing this on purpose?"
He shook his head, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "No, of course not. Teasing you brings me no benefit. It's just that this cup of tea… it requires time. And a partner."
Seeing the flicker of seriousness in his eyes, the woman fell silent. She simply stared at the tea set before her, inhaling the fragrant steam curling from the spout, trying to calm the storm within her.
"Why aren't you preparing the main dish?" she asked after a few seconds, noticing Ren hadn't moved.
He just tilted his head. "I'm just getting an ingredient I missed."
"Missed ingredient? Hmm?"
As she puzzled over his words, she saw Ren point toward her shoulder. The woman glanced down and saw that a single, perfect petal had fallen there at some point. She plucked it off and handed it to him without another word.
But Heaven alone knew the shock that coursed through her in that instant. As she'd handed him the petal, she had subtly channeled her power into it, a small, vindictive pulse meant to vent her frustration—a tiny punishment for the torment he was putting her through.
The result left her utterly dumbfounded. Not only did Ren show no reaction whatsoever, but in that fleeting moment of contact, she felt a pressure so immense and so absolute that it threatened to extinguish her very being. It was a deadly, final pressure.
"Miss?" Ren called her name twice. Seeing the woman sitting motionless, a distant look in her eyes, he simply smiled and gently plucked another petal from the top of her head. "My apologies," he said warmly. "It seems the flowers you cultivate have a very close relationship with you. They're almost acting spoiled." He held up the two petals. "So… please wait just a little longer."
He turned and left, leaving the woman staring after him in utter disbelief. She had been so overwhelmed by that frightening, soul-crushing pressure that she hadn't even heard him calling her name. He'd had no choice but to take the petal himself.
But his action had also snapped her back to reality. What had she just witnessed? A human man had actually taken a petal that had fallen into her hair? When had anyone ever dared such a thing? And yet… she felt no anger.
After watching Ren disappear back into the kitchen, she turned her gaze back to the tea set, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion.
Lucifer, watching from her seat, let out a soft, amused chuckle. "It seems she's unexpectedly complex in her thoughts."
The woman looked up, meeting Lucifer's gaze.
The Queen of Hell took a casual sip of her drink. "You tried to use a little trick on Ren just now. That really took some courage."
"Who is that man?" the woman asked, her voice low and serious.
The question was met with a unified chorus from everyone at the table, including Kasugano Sora. "He's just a restaurant manager."
The woman paused, about to speak again, when Lucifer added with a hint of playful mischief, "He's also the man who conquered the Queen of Hell."
A slow, meaningful smile spread across the woman's face as she looked at Lucifer. Indeed. This was a very interesting place. And the owner of this restaurant was a very interesting man. A powerful, and very, very interesting man.
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