Chapter 28
The winery trip was tougher than I expected.
At first, I had been expecting a somewhat romantic picture.
Vineyards spread out beneath the sunlight, cellars lined with wooden barrels, and me nodding as I took a sip of wine poured by the winemaker.
Beside me, Uncle Bernard would quietly take notes while Marie lightened the mood with her simple impressions.
Reality was different.
The wine at the first winery was fucking sour.
It wasn't merely tart; it was so sour that I couldn't tell whether it was vinegar or wine.
The winemaker said this year's grapes had grown vigorously, but to me, it tasted like grapes that had fought for their lives and turned into liquor.
“How is it?”
The winemaker asked with an expectant look on his face.
I set down my glass.
“It might work as cooking wine to cut the fishiness of seafood.”
“Then as a table wine...”
“If I served it to a guest, that guest would come after me.”
Marie bit her lip beside me.
Uncle Bernard looked somewhere else as though nothing had happened.
The second place we visited was the Lavel family's vineyard that Uncle Bernard had told me about, and it wasn't bad either.
The red wine was a little questionable, but the white wine was genuinely good.
The aroma wasn't excessive, and the acidity was well balanced, so it seemed like it could go with a fish course or a light appetizer.
The problem was how it had been stored. The temperature in the cellar fluctuated, and the quality varied widely from bottle to bottle.
“Can we select only the good bottles separately?”
When I asked, the owner smiled awkwardly.
“That would be a little...”
“Then we'll need to cut the price a little, too.”
“Pardon?”
“If the quality isn't consistent, the kitchen has to sort them again. Guests aren't paying to test their luck with every bottle.”
Uncle Bernard quietly nodded at that.
Marie muttered very softly beside me.
“You're scary even when we come to buy wine.”
“Liquor is an ingredient, too.”
“Isn't alcohol just something you drink?”
“If that's how you think of it, you can go to a bar.”
“No, I like bars, too.”
“I know. Be quiet.”
Marie looked slightly aggrieved.
The third winery had truly excellent red wine.
It was a deep red.
The aroma was closer to dark fruit, with a hint of earth and wood lingering at the end.
It wasn't too rough, nor was it too subdued.
It seemed like it could go with game birds, red meat, or the rich sauce of the duke's course.
I took a sip and held the glass up to the light.
“I'll buy this.”
The owner's face brightened.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes. But there are conditions. Send us bottles from the same vineyard and the same vintage separately. If you mix them together, there won't be a next deal.”
“That much is only natural...”
“I'm saying it because many people fail to do what's only natural.”
The owner stopped smiling.
Business might begin with smiles, but the terms had to be nailed down coldly.
The problem came afterward.
The last place we stopped at was closer to a distillery than a winery.
It was not far from Monbel territory.
They made wine, but they also made strong liquor from grain.
At first, I didn't have high expectations.
I had no idea what level of distilled spirits this world had reached, and if it was poorly made, there was a good chance it would just be cheap rotgut (not stocks, but liquor).
But when I saw a small wooden barrel in the back of the cellar, I stopped walking.
“What's that?”
The winemaker answered.
“It's grain liquor. It's been aged in a wooden barrel for a long time, but nobles usually prefer wine, so it doesn't sell very well. Would you like to try it?”
I accepted the glass and smelled it.
My eyebrows rose in an instant.
The scent of wood, the nuttiness of the grain, a slightly vanilla-like sweetness, and a smoky finish.
It wasn't insanely refined, but it had direction.
“Whiskey.”
It wasn't completely Earth-style whiskey, but it was good enough to call whiskey.
I cautiously took a sip, and my throat grew hot.
But it wasn't bad.
“I'll buy this.”
Uncle Bernard looked at me.
“Didn't we come only to look at wine?”
“Good liquor has to be bought even if it wasn't in the plan.”
Marie looked at the glass and asked,
“Can I try it, too?”
“Just a little.”
I poured her only a tiny amount.
Marie smelled it and frowned.
“Is this really alcohol? Isn't it medicine?”
“Try it.”
Marie swallowed a sip without fear and immediately began coughing.
“Kehk, what is this!”
“I told you, only a little.”
“My throat's on fire!”
“That's a good way to put it.”
“What's good about that!”
Even so, a moment later, Marie looked at the glass again.
“But strangely, I kind of want another drink.”
“That's why it's dangerous liquor.”
That day, we signed contracts for several crates of white wine, several crates of red wine, and two small wooden barrels.
If we had only accepted the wine Rosenhart sent us, we would never have found liquor like this.
You have to put in the legwork.
The problem is that legwork leaves you tired, while tongue-work leaves you drunk.
On the carriage ride back, I realized I was much drunker than I'd expected.
“Tasting” was a funny word.
Even if you only drank a sip at a time, visiting several wineries eventually added up to drinking.
I did have a habit of spitting it out, but when I did that too obviously in this world, the winemakers started making strange faces.
They looked as though they were wondering why I would spit out such precious liquor.
So I swallowed it little by little.
Those little sips had piled up and were now making my head spin.
Marie was worse.
She sat leaning against the window, her face flushed as she muttered,
“Kyle.”
“What?”
“Alcohol is weird~...”
“Yeah.”
“It tastes bad at first, but it gets more fun the farther it goes.”
“That's the problem.”
“You know that barrel liquor~... I think I'd understand it better if I had it one more time.”
“No.”
“Whyyy?”
“You already understand plenty.”
“Understand what~?”
“That alcohol is dangerous.”
Marie thought about it for a moment, then nodded.
“Yeah, it's dangerous.”
Then she lightly leaned against my shoulder.
I started to push her away, then stopped.
The carriage was swaying, and I was tired, too.
Uncle Bernard was sitting across from us, pretending to look out the window.
He had clearly seen everything, but his face said he hadn't.
Being a butler was a frightening profession.
The ability to pretend not to know even when you knew was essential.
“Marie, don't fall asleep. I have to wake you when we arrive.”
“Okay, I won't sleeeep.”
It wasn't long after she said that before Marie fell asleep.
I sighed.
“You really do listen well.”
Then I closed my eyes, too.
I only meant to close them for a moment.
But when you've been drinking and the carriage is swaying, you pass out more easily than you'd expect.
At some point, I fell asleep, too.
When we arrived at Monbel Manor, Uncle Bernard was the one who opened the carriage door.
And Elysia was standing in front of the entrance.
I heard later that she had come out herself to meet us when it was time for us to return.
She must have been curious about the results of our trip to find wine.
Or perhaps she had simply been worried.
In any case, this was the sight she saw.
I was sitting inside the carriage, with Marie asleep against my shoulder.
And I was asleep, too, with my head tilted toward Marie.
Elysia's expression quietly hardened, and Uncle Bernard smoothed things over very quickly, apparently.
“It seems everyone was tired after the long journey and tasting.”
I woke up groggily then.
“Have we arrived?”
My voice was a little hoarse.
Marie lifted her head from my shoulder and rubbed her eyes, too.
“Oh... we're here?”
Her hair tie had come loose a little, and her face was still red.
Seeing that, I simply thought she was drunk.
Elysia's gaze moved slowly between Marie and me.
“Looks like you had fun?”
Her voice was gentle.
But strangely, it was cold.
I still had alcohol in my system, so I couldn't interpret it properly.
“Yes. We found quite a bit of good wine. There was some decent white wine, and the red wine is ready to use right away. We also found a grain spirit. It's much better than I expected.”
“I see.”
“Yes. It was good that we went ourselves.”
“You went in person and apparently drank quite a lot.”
Only then did I sense that something was strange, but I still missed the point.
“There was a lot to taste.”
Marie said brightly beside me,
“My lady, that barrel liquor is really strange. It makes your throat suddenly grow hot, but then you keep thinking about it.”
Elysia looked at Marie.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Kyle really liked it, too.”
“Kyle.”
“Yes.”
Marie smiled, completely unaware of anything.
‘Why did the air suddenly turn cold?’
Uncle Bernard quietly looked away.
I should have realized it then.
But I was drunk and tired, and my head was full of pairing the new red and white wines.
I had no room to think about pairing people's hearts, too.
Elysia was silent for a moment before speaking.
“Good work. Have the wine moved to the cellar. And Kyle.”
“Yes.”
“Tomorrow, I'll be tasting, too.”
“Of course. You need to know about it, too, my lady.”
“Yes.”
Elysia smiled very faintly.
“I need to know, too.”
I didn't know then why that smile was frightening.
Marie yawned as she got out of the carriage, while I checked the liquor list with Uncle Bernard.
The waiting servants gathered and began carefully moving the liquor crates.
Maison Monbel's glasses finally had some proper options.
That was definitely a good thing.
And yet Elysia's back as she turned away from the entrance looked strangely sharp.
I scratched my head.
“Uncle, is my lady in a bad mood?”
Uncle Bernard looked at me for a moment, then answered with great dignity.
“You're only asking that now?”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing. Let's move the wine first.”
He didn't explain any further.
Being a butler really was a frightening profession.
Maison Monbel had acquired wine.
But without my knowing it, I might have lost something else.
I still didn't know what it was.
It might have been because I was still sobering up, or because I was naturally an idiot about that sort of thing.