28 – Cypress Mosaic

Only ​then ​did ​Elian ​let down his ​guard, ​a ​smile ​appearing ​on his face as ​he ​looked much more ​relaxed.

For a brief ​moment, ​Lorenz’s ​eyes ​wavered.

So, ​he ​can smile like ​that.

It ​was ​a smile that ​seemed both joyful and ​appreciative, making ​those blue ​eyes sparkle ​with light. ​The ​slight ​puffiness beneath his ​eyes added ​to the loveliness of ​his features, and as ​his lips—curved with a ​delicacy that ​looked ​like a painter’s intentional brushstrokes—parted, a ​glimpse of neat, white ​teeth ​was ​revealed.

It ​was ​a silent smile, ​yet…

Lorenz felt ​dizzy, ​as if he ​were ​standing on a small boat ​caught in ​a ​storm. Had that ​damn ​PRL ​level ​spiked ​again?

Around 7 ​PM.

The ​twilight left ​behind by the fading sun was spreading ​deeply from the ​west of the ​mansion, toward Central Park. ​The streets ​shimmered in a ​deep ​red glow. Even ​the cream-colored marble ​of the ​Lockhart ​estate looked ​as ​if it ​were ​engulfed in ​flames.

Lorenz ​Lockhart, ​with one hand ​thrust ​into his ​pants ​pocket, ​placed ​his other hand on the center of Elian’s bicycle handlebars.

Then, tilting his head slightly, he looked at Elian.

“Well then, will you have dinner with me as well?”

“……”

“I’ve been rejected twice already; it’s quite a blow to my pride.”

“Are you really that affected by my declining?”

Elian looked at Lorenz with a lingering smile. Lorenz simply gazed back at him in silence.

He looked almost like a child. A child revealing his anxiety at the thought of being rejected.

Elian quickly brushed that thought aside.

The man before him was, by all accounts, a flawless adult male. The kind of man who calculated meticulously and applied seasoned pressure to obtain whatever he wanted for his own goals and profit.

Perhaps he was even more dangerous than Joshua, who was blunt about his desires and prone to threats.

After a prolonged silence, Lorenz pressed him once more.

“Are you going to refuse this [visit our site]stolen contenttime too? Even if it’s an [visit our site]‘Owner’s order,’ is it a no?”

At the unexpected joke, Elian burst into laughter and shook his head. This time, it wasn’t just a smile, but a laugh with sound.

Lorenz let out a small chuckle in response.

It was a short, dry laugh, but it was definitely a laugh.

Because the sight of each other laughing was so unfamiliar, they stole glances at one another, as if committing a theft, amidst the surging red waves of the sunset.

■

Standing before the wardrobe, Elian found it difficult to make a decision.

In truth, there was little to deliberate over, as the number of clothes filling the closet was modest.

However, even if it was a meal within the mansion, this was a formal dinner invitation from Lorenz Lockhart. He could guess that this wouldn’t be a casual affair of drinking beer with meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

In the end, he chose a black shirt and black slacks. He wondered if he looked like he was attending a funeral, but he had no other clothes that were sufficiently formal.

Lorenz had arrived at the dining room first. When Elian appeared, he rose from his seat.

Lorenz was someone who never lounged around the mansion in indoor unauthorized copywear, but today’s attire seemed [stolen content]even more formal than usual.

After guiding Elian to his seat, he sat down and unfolded a napkin from beneath the table, placing it on his lap. It was the signal that the meal was beginning. The servants served water and bread quietly yet with perfect synchronization.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“We finally get to eat together. I think Mr. Belloti will go down as the most difficult person I’ve ever had to secure a meal with.”

Seeing the light amusement on his face, it didn’t sound like a sarcastic remark. Elian gave a bashful laugh, noting that it hadn’t been intentional.

“Wearing that… makes your hair stand out more.”

At Lorenz’s comment regarding the all-black attire, Elian looked down at his shirt.

“I didn’t bring many clothes. I just looked for something neat…”

“Did you say you live in Brooklyn?”

“Yes.”

“If there’s anything you need, feel free to bring it over. Just tell Margaret, and she’ll arrange for a person and a car.”

“I will. Thank you.”

He didn’t particularly have any more luggage to bring, but he answered in accordance with the mood.

“I heard you like Italian food.”

“Ah… yes.”

“Margaret mentioned it. She seemed to put a lot of effort into the preparations, so please enjoy yourself.”

“Thank you.”

The head servant approached and personally prepared the champagne.

While the glass was being filled, Elian lightly rested his hand on the base of the glass, following proper etiquette.

Lorenz, who had been watching those fingertips, spoke up as if suddenly remembering something, asking for his understanding.

“I had a few wines prepared that would pair well with the course. Should I have asked what kind of wine you prefer?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll drink whatever you recommend.”

His late mother had also loved wine.

They would celebrate special days with champagne, pair fresh oysters with Chardonnay, and sometimes enjoy Malbec with tacos. Malbec was the first alcohol Elian had tried once he reached the legal drinking age.

Tacos from a neighborhood restaurant where Elian and his mother were regulars, and an Argentine Malbec. With sauce smeared on their lips, the two had toasted with red wine to celebrate Elian becoming an adult.

But now, Elian could no longer enjoy tacos or wine. He could chew and swallow, but he couldn’t taste the flavor. Steak and fries became nothing more than salty dishes that differed only in texture. Each dish had lost its unique flavor.

The champagne Lorenz had chosen was undoubtedly a high-end wine, but to Elian, it was merely carbonated water with acidity. He couldn’t perceive any aroma.

Hiding his complicated emotions behind an expressionless face, Elian set the glass down.

“It feels like I’m at a luxury restaurant.”

“It’s better in the sense that we can talk more comfortably.”

Elian nodded in agreement. As Lorenz brought the glass to his lips, he added,

“I’m not particularly fond of eating out, either.”

Unlike Joshua Lockhart, Lorenz Lockhart avoided public exposure. Elian had known this beforehand through his research. After actually observing his schedule since moving in, the nickname ‘hermit’ didn’t feel like an exaggeration at all.

They are quite different brothers in many ways. Though they share the same face and build.

Elian looked around the dining room, being careful not to appear too inquisitive.

This was his first time eating in the main dining room. Like other spaces in the mansion, the dining room was decorated in a classical rather than modern style.

The main building of the mansion had two kitchens and two dining areas. The main kitchen, where the hired chefs prepared the food, and the family kitchen, used by the residents of the house.

The family kitchen had a large oval table, where Elian usually ate. Despite the name ‘family kitchen,’ it seemed Lorenz Lockhart never used it. Nor was it likely that Lucas, who couldn’t leave his room, used the kitchen.

It seemed Lorenz ate almost exclusively in this main dining room. Elian imagined him sitting alone at the head of the massive twenty-person table, cutting a steak by the light of a candelabra. It felt fitting for a classic vampire in an old movie.

Soon, the appetizer was served.

It was Arancini—fried olives stuffed with meat and cheese—and a salad. As he popped a bite-sized piece of the fried ball into his mouth and chewed, the bursting texture of the olive blended with the minced meat. The texture alone provided a certain level of satisfaction.

After swallowing the food, Lorenz reached for his glass and asked,

“Do you always get around by bicycle?”

“Mostly.”

“Isn’t the subway faster?”

“Not for short distances. I don’t have to go down to the underground and back up. I don’t have to spend time on the platform.”

“It seems dangerous.”

“The bike lanes are actually quite well-maintained.”

“Still, it seems dangerous.”

“……”

What is this..?

Is he worried in his own way?

Elian tried to read the intention in Lorenz’s expression, but it wasn’t easy.

He had never met someone so devoid of expression.

To be precise, it wasn’t a matter of intensity, but of variety. He conveyed emotions through a very limited range of expressions. All Elian had witnessed so far were slight frowns between the brows or under the eyes. And that brief, fleeting laugh he had seen in front of the mansion a moment ago.