Our Hotel Is Open for Business as Usual - Chapter 61

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 61.

“Did you enjoy your meal?”

A measured voice, melodious as a musical phrase, reached his ears.

“….”

The Young Man turned his head to regard the master of this Castle.

Pale skin stretched over a tall, broad-boned frame. A prominent nose bridge and a sharp jawline that tapered with angular precision. Eyes heavy with exhaustion and meticulously groomed brows.

At least, he did not appear to be someone who habitually coughed up blood.

“….”
“Please forgive me for not joining you at the same table.”

He seated himself across from the Young Man with movements so graceful they made no sound. His bearing was refined, yet as he grasped the chair to pull it back, the Young Man detected something subtly amiss.

‘…He’s hardly accustomed to being served.’

Despite commanding so many servants, he pulled out his own chair. For anyone who knew the arrogant weight carried by the name Belmarés, such a sight was utterly incongruous.

Movements awkwardly clumsy for someone of innate authority.

‘And… those soft fingertips.’

Thin hands with prominent knuckles.

Whether lacking strength or incapable of exerting it—either way, one could only infer overwork, fatigue, or injury.

‘Clearly not in a stable state.’

Visible exhaustion and, though hidden, an unstable pulse. The bearing of a cornered beast, nerves drawn taut. Yet grace remained.

“It’s an embarrassing matter, but my health hasn’t been good lately, so I’ve been refraining from activities.”
“….”

…Not feeling well….

‘Is it merely a side effect, or is it a performance to lower the prey’s guard?’

It was difficult to rationally comprehend that Belmarés, a completed divine structure, would suffer from uncontrollable side effects. Yet the Young Man forcefully suppressed the hunting desire rising within him.

‘What if this frailty is merely a series of birth pangs for becoming a more perfect god.’

While it might be possible to break that neck immediately, I had no confidence in fully bearing the immense blood-rage lurking beyond it. The name Belmarés was far too heavy to stake a hasty gamble on.

The Young Man ultimately fled to the conclusion that all of this was merely the Castle Lord’s elegant facade.

“….”
“I’ve brought a gift.”

I already knew. The rich aroma of coffee gave it away.

“I know you don’t particularly enjoy sweets, but I’ve added sugar beforehand. I didn’t add much, so it shouldn’t be unpleasant to taste.”

He poured the cup himself. Even if it was meant to respect history and culture, the act of a master personally tilting the teapot was far too lowly to be called unpretentiousness.

‘He’s acting as if he’s trying to cater to my preferences.’

Brown liquid flowing through the narrow spout of the teapot. Regardless of intent, it was a scent I hadn’t smelled in a long time.

“You typically enjoy dining at the table with other guests.”
“That’s right.”
“I recall you frequently serve coffee.”
“That’s also correct.”
“Our Dining Area primarily serves basic coffee… but I hope the beverage was to your liking?”

The question was polite yet meticulous. Like that of a capable subordinate. The Young Man held his gaze without so much as a blink.

Was this goodwill, or was it compliance?

“It was pleasant.”

Whatever this place is, it feels safe.

“Because I can rest here.”

Since my companion was young, I saw no need to speak in roundabout ways.

My breathing came easy, and every corner of the space felt intimate and warm. The cruel things that had clung to my body and mind—things I’d struggled so hard to maintain—melted away and vanished like sugar beneath rain.

“Nowhere in this world had I ever found a place where I could linger like this.”

The air of the Castle was so impossibly light it made me forget even the weight of blood that had pressed down on me for so long. Intoxicated by this sweetness, I didn’t even ask what my companion desired.

I simply savored the undeserved kindness.

“The wine too….”
“The flavor of Frankensan white grape wine is exquisite, isn’t it?”
“Tokay was equally delightful.”

Sweet wine.

“This Castle has everything.”

Truly, everything.

“….”
“Though I have not sat beside you.”

The Castle Lord poured the next glass himself. Each time those pale fingers brushed the rim, the rising steam seemed to soften my rigid gaze, melting away its hardness.

Then, with measured grace, he slid the glass toward me.

“I have long wished to converse with you on a variety of subjects.”
“….”

Conversation?
Perhaps. Perhaps not.

“…I see.”

A silver cup held coffee with a deep, heavy flavor. The Young Man grasped it.

This too was sweet.

It was delicious.

* * *

In that era, if wine symbolized authority to the nobility, coffee was the beverage of conversation.

This gathering has ended, yet I shall treat you as an equal in discourse. For the master of a banquet to serve coffee directly to a guest was such a ritual.

Lee Yeon-woo held the cup and gazed at the Guest, who stared back at him blankly.

“I’ve also prepared simple biscuits and pretzels. I wonder if they suit your palate.”
‘Of course, that’s all predicated on my shallow knowledge being correct.’

Lee Yeon-woo clicked his tongue inwardly. It was like a remote mountain hotel where the internet wouldn’t even connect.

‘Am I doing this right? This is an entirely different domain from reading the room for workplace relations… there must be a generational gap spanning centuries in my very manner of speech.’

If it came to office politics and social maneuvering, I could claim some experience, but adapting courtesies to match the rhythms of a nobleman from centuries past was wholly uncharted territory.

A situation that could only be resolved through knowledge in my mind alone.

‘If my fragile recollections prove mistaken, I have no idea how to recover from it.’

He watched the other man sip his coffee.

“I’m pleased it suits your taste.”
“It is good.”
“Ah, how kind of you to say. I myself am one who enjoys fine cuisine, so conversation with a guest of your refinement is a pleasure.”
“You enjoy fine cuisine?”

His vocabulary had expanded. The reason for it remained unknown.

“…Yes, I do enjoy focusing on the harmony that unfolds within the mouth.”
“Indeed.”
“….”
“It is a pleasure.”

He gripped the silver goblet as though releasing it would mean death itself.

“It was a pleasure.”
“Today as well.”

Lee Yeon-woo cut short his deepening appreciation. The conversation was taking an unfavorable turn.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”
“….”

His gaze fell upon Lee Yeon-woo. When Lee Yeon-woo smiled, he responded.

“…Yes.”
“Ah, indeed.”
“I did enjoy it.”
“I see.”

He continued speaking.

“I merely arranged a modest gathering. Should you have felt something beyond what I prepared… that would be entirely due to your refined sensibilities, not my own abilities.”
“….”

Only then did the Blood-Loving Guest set the silver goblet down upon the table. He began placing the accompanying delicacies into his mouth. Lee Yeon-woo swallowed his coffee and observed him quietly.

‘I always wonder—where exactly is he speaking from?’

Coco was similar in that regard.

‘Producing sound without opening the mouth at all.’

It was too peculiar to dismiss as mere ventriloquism. The Tasteless Guest only ever parted his lips when actually chewing and swallowing something.

Not merely food, but emotion as well.

“….”

Yet my emotions remain untouched, it seems.

‘Perhaps because this is a meal I’m offering.’

Lee Yeon-woo blinked slowly. Somewhere along the way, the Guest’s trademark rattling sound had ceased. It was likely due to the satisfying meal now before him.

As I set down the coffee, I continued speaking.

“As I mentioned earlier, the Dining Area of this Hotel provides only basic coffee. While certain recipes are available, there are still operational shortcomings.”

I lifted my gaze to meet the Blood-Loving Guest’s eyes.

“It’s a matter of ingredients and personnel, you might say.”
“I see.”
“However, if it’s a request from a friend, I could prepare it personally.”
“Friend.”
“Yes.”

Lee Yeon-woo’s eyes widened.

“Friend.”

* * *

“Friend.”

A friend, he said.

“….”

It was a word that rarely emerged in such settings.

Or perhaps things were different now. But in the dining tables he remembered, it was an extraordinarily rare word. Yet the fact that it resonated so deeply within me speaks to how truly striking it was.

There is aroma, and there is taste.
How long has it been since I felt such things?

It’s been so long….

“…Yes.”

I see.

“May I eat?”

I hadn’t given up yet.

‘Could I hunt?’

Hunger made my head spin.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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