An Aura Farmer's Guide to Another World
Chapter 44: The Mysterious Letter & Death Threats

Chapter 44: The Mysterious Letter & Death Threats

We were seated around a long, dark dining table, intricately carved from wood. It was covered with fine linen and featured eight diners’ settings, each with fine china, glassware, and cutlery.

My eyes darted to Lady Beatrice, seated at the head of the table just inches away, then shifted to Joséphine, sitting across from me.

Joséphine caught my glance and offered a gentle smile, her dark, curly hair resting on her shoulders.

I averted my eyes, the sight of her cleavage imprinted in my memory. Joséphine’s dark V-neck gown, unlike Lady Beatrice’s, had a prominent cleavage.

My eyes rested on a large, ornate crystal chandelier with numerous candles, hanging prominently from the ceiling and illuminating the dining room.

A line of pink tulips ran down the dining table, placing Lucy & Evelyn on one side, and Cupcake & me on the other.

"Let me officially welcome you to my estate," Lady Beatrice said, her eyes on Cupcake, who was seated beside me. "The Queen’s concern for my safety is most gratifying, and I’m truly comforted to have you under our roof."

Cupcake paused mid-bite, returning her fork to a plate filled with grilled salmon cutlets covered in bearnaise sauce.

"Your Grace, thank you. It is an honor for us to be here, and I assure you, Her Majesty’s concern for your safety is our utmost priority." Cupcake replied.

She continued her meal, carefully cutting the salmon into small portions with her knife and fork before consuming them.

With her lips curled around the rim, Evelyn raised a bottle of vintage grape wine.

’Gulp-gulp.’

The wine cascaded down her throat until every last drop disappeared into her bottomless stomach.

"This sherry wine tastes amazing, I’ve never had one this good before." Evelyn slammed the empty bottle against the table.

Lady Beatrice replied, "I’m glad you like it."

’Munch-munch.’

Lucy, seated next to Evelyn, chewed on a roasted leg of pork draped in applesauce.

"Sherry wine?" Lucy cast a glance at Evelyn over her shoulder. "You can’t tell the difference between Amontillado and Sherry? How disgraceful."

Evelyn took the bottle of wine next to Lucy and opened it. She poured a measure into a glass cup , then swirled it, raised the cup, and took a whiff.

"Amontillado is a type of sherry; even a day-old infant knows that."

Lucy shoved the glass cup aside. Her brows knit together, shadowing her gaze as she spoke through clenched teeth: "I did not ask for your opinion."

Taking the cup from Evelyn, Joséphine interjected, "If I may interfere, the wine is a Port wine; none of your girls were correct."

With her bare hands, Lady Beatrice tore a leg from a roasted domestic fowl and took a bite.

’Munch-munch.’

"Tell me, King, with such a handsome face and gorgeous blue eyes, I imagine you leave quite an impression on the ladies of the court, do you not? One gathers you’re quite popular."

I jerked backward, nearly spilling the sorbet I’d just scooped. For a second, I could only blink. "I beg your pardon?"

Leaning forward, with eyes sparkling, Joséphine cut in. "Oh, Beatrice, don’t be so bashful, what she means is: Are you quite the heartbreaker? Do you find yourself constantly besieged by sighs and fluttering eyelashes wherever you go?"

My gaze flickered from Joséphine across the table to Lady Beatrice, positioned on a standalone seat to my right.

I’d never exchanged a single word with them, yet they addressed me like a friend visiting on weekends. Even more startling, they used my alias: ’King’.

"You jest, my Lady; I am nothing but a humble man." I smiled, my cheeks blushing in the process.

’Munch-munch.’

Lady Beatrice took another bite of the roasted domestic fowl. "You’re no ordinary man; you are the Demon King."

I glanced away, heat creeping up my cheeks.

Demon King? Is she serious? Doesn’t she read the papers? Everyone’s clowning on me, saying a human can’t be a Demon King.

"My lady, are you suggesting you believe I’m the reincarnation of the Demon King?"

Lady Beatrice placed the roasted leg she was holding on the plate and used a linen napkin to clean her hands and brush her lips.

"Deep, gorgeous blue eyes, a handsome face that can rival the beauty of the moon—those are the features only the Demon King is allowed to have; every one of the twelve noble families knows that."

Lady Beatrice leaned closer. "Whether I believe you’re the Demon King or not is irrelevant. As the lowest-ranking noble family without an heir, my opinions hold no weight with the royal counsel."

Cupcake polished off the last bite of her salmon and reached for the wine glass, taking a slow sip. "Lana mentioned you woke up to a letter resting on your bed, when you turned, the window was wide open, and a breeze was drifting in."

Adjusting her seat, Cupcake turned her upper body toward Lady Beatrice. "Can you tell me precisely what the letter said?"

Lady Beatrice turned her gaze from me to Cupcake. "The letter says, ’You are going to die and you will be the one to kill yourself.’"

Lady Beatrice looked at Cupcake. "I believe Joseph is behind this. I canceled our engagement last year, and he’s been persistently asking me to reconsider ever since."

Her curly orange hair wiggled as she shook her head, then her palms cupped her face, and she lowered her gaze. "He’s probably jealous that I’m hosting a mass wedding for the orphans next Wednesday. Our wedding was supposed to be part of it, but I called it off."

Joséphine reached out and patted Lady Beatrice’s shoulder. "Everything will be alright. As your knight, I’ll protect you with my life."

Unaffected by Beatrice’s grief, Cupcake maintained a calm expression and fired another question at her: "Who is Joseph?"

Lady Beatrice lowered her palms; her face was pale and tight, as if every muscle had been strung up and pulled too far. "A childhood friend turned lover; the Bishop’s son."