Unbeknownst to Me, I am Secretly Dating the Emperor - Chapter 25

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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 25
“This makes no sense. The coffee beans I use are the finest from the Southern Continent!”
Kyle cried out, his face a picture of total bewilderment.
“Why doesn’t it make sense? If those beans hadn’t spoiled, there’s no way they’d taste like this.”
I pressed my point with firm conviction.
‘Even as clueless as I am, I’ve lived in Korea where there’s a cafe every three steps, so I know this much.’
In murky situations, the person with the loudest voice wins.
‘And right now, I’m speaking louder.’
“You grind fresh beans, add water, and that’s coffee—but this tastes like poison!”
‘In reality, there’s probably some more delicate process involved, but from watching a friend who loves home cafes as a hobby, making drinkable coffee isn’t actually that difficult.’
I unleashed my words with the rancor of a full cup and a single sip, and doubt finally flickered across Kyle’s face.
Riding this momentum, I made my bold request.
“Show me the beans. Then we can tell if they’re spoiled or not.”
Kyle, looking confused, soon returned with the sack containing the beans.
I kept my expression stern as I opened the sack and examined the contents.
Even I could tell they were in terrible condition.
‘They look completely different from the beans in coffee commercials!’
“They’re definitely spoiled!”
I declared triumphantly.
“I’ve heard green beans don’t spoil easily—so how on earth did they end up like this?”
I brushed my hands clean and turned to Kyle with a question.
“That can’t be right. A merchant who immigrated from the south assured me these were precious beans that even the royal family of the Southern Continent enjoys.”
But as I spoke with such certainty, Kyle’s confidence wavered, and his voice grew quieter toward the end.
“He said the taste of coffee depends on roasting skill and even introduced me to a famous barista he knows. It’s the finest beans roasted by a capable barista that even the royal house seeks out.”
Kyle’s voice carried a hint of wistfulness.
But none of it registered with me.
“Bring that supposedly famous barista here.”
When I requested a three-way meeting, Kyle’s face fell even further.
“It would take at least a year and a half to travel from the Southern Continent to the Empire. One way.”
“Why is the barista in the Southern Continent? Did they go there recently?”
“Well, that’s where they live.”
“But why?”
“I beg your pardon?”
The more we talked, the more confused I became.
It was complete miscommunication.
I started explaining again, methodically.
“You said roasting coffee beans is what that famous barista does, right?”
“Yes.”
“So if that barista is in the Southern Continent, who roasted these beans?”
“That barista did.”
It was circular logic.
I rephrased my question slightly.
“So how is a barista living in the Southern Continent supplying roasted beans to this cafe in the Empire?”
Kyle finally seemed to grasp what I was getting at.
“They ship the roasted beans by boat. Regularly.”
When I heard his answer, I was horrified.
“So these beans were roasted at least a year and a half ago?”
‘Ugh.’
“Yes.”
Kyle seemed completely oblivious to my reaction.
“They’ve crossed a hot, humid sea, and merchant ships are hardly spotless. Plus the seal is loose, and most importantly—if you brew coffee from beans that were roasted nearly two years ago, what exactly happens?”
‘In Korea, you’d be in handcuffs for food safety violations, Kyle.’
I had the urge to spit out the coffee I’d already swallowed.
‘I think my stomach hurts.’
Kyle finally seemed to realize something had gone seriously wrong.
I spoke with the bitterness of spoiled coffee carefully restrained in each word.
“That merchant who came from the southern lands—they’re still in the Empire, right?”
“Yes.”
“That person is a swindler. Roasted beans spoil easily—they should’ve brought them in as green beans.”
Kyle’s face darkened at my words.
“I paid five times the price of regular green beans without knowing any of this… Ah!”
Kyle swept his hand through his hair with a deep sigh.
Though he returned to his usual smile shortly after, the warmth had drained from it entirely, as if it had plummeted from spring to winter.
He looked like an assassin who’d lost everything to a con artist.
The kind who could erase someone in cold blood without hesitation.
I stepped back from Kyle and offered a suggestion.
“There are a few other cafes in the Capital, aren’t there? Why don’t you get beans from one of them and try brewing with those?”
Even if this was a cover business, I couldn’t let him keep serving spoiled coffee.
“Thank you for the advice. Miss Diaz.”
Kyle bowed to me in gratitude.
“It’s nothing, really.”
I saw Kyle’s expression turn icy as he thought of the southern merchant again, so I dragged Everett outside.
As Everett, who had been watching our conversation, was led out of the cafe and we began walking, he suddenly spoke as if remembering something.
“Miss Diaz, you seem quite knowledgeable about coffee.”
Remarkably, knowing that “coffee beans can spoil if left sitting for two years” counted as expertise here.
‘Coffee has only been imported for about ten years now.’
“Coffee arrived at the Academy earlier than in the Capital.”
The Empire’s Academy was where the Awakening Component in coffee was most needed.
I gave a plausible excuse.
Coffee seemed to have been merely a conversation starter, as Everett quickly moved on to other topics.
And fortunately, our conversation barely faltered even as we entered a restaurant and ate.
I handled the knife reasonably well, and the atmosphere was pleasant.
But once again, I didn’t return the handkerchief.
I claimed I’d left it at home by accident.
* * *
After dropping Lina off, Edwin returned to the cafe.
Kyle, who’d changed clothes in the meantime, greeted him with a bright face.
“You’ve arrived at just the right moment.”
His attitude was a complete reversal from earlier when he’d complained about not coming through the back entrance connected to the Guild.
Kyle approached with a freshly brewed cup of coffee.
“Would you care to try it? This time I’ve brewed it with beans I got directly from the longest-running cafe in the Capital—the owner confirmed it. My coffee no longer tastes like sewage. Please?”
He looked ready to prostrate himself if refused.
Edwin smiled wryly at his old friend, who was displaying an almost pathological obsession with his hobby, and accepted the cup.
“I’m not sure who the real emperor is here.”
This time, there was no sewage-like stench.
Edwin grimaced as he swallowed the coffee.
It tasted sour and burnt, not to his taste, but far more bearable than before.
When he handed back the empty cup, Kyle’s face brightened considerably.
Irritated by his expression, Edwin snorted.
“Given that I’ve been vehemently refusing your coffee all this time, it’s a good thing I did—if I’d drunk that spoiled batch and fallen ill, you’d be guilty of regicide.”
Kyle, having nothing to say, simply smiled.
Since the Emperor himself had drunk Kyle’s coffee most frequently after choosing a cafe as the Information Guild’s cover business, he felt somewhat guilty.
Kyle opened his mouth to redirect Edwin’s attention.
“So I dealt with that swindler quite thoroughly.”
When Edwin showed even slight interest, Kyle whispered his tale of retribution proudly.
“I turned him over to the Public Order Authority.”
“That’s it?”
Despite his mild appearance, Kyle was not someone to be trifled with.
When Edwin asked again, Kyle’s face turned cruel.
“Only after making him drink the entire batch of coffee he’d sold me.”
His tone suggested the coffee hadn’t been poured delicately into cups.
Kyle, who’d discovered the problem with his coffee and succeeded in his revenge, looked thoroughly satisfied.
“It’s all thanks to Miss Diaz.”
Kyle praised Lina with sparkling eyes.
“From the moment I first saw Miss Diaz, I thought she was a good person. She has refined taste and deep common sense.”
As Kyle’s endless praise continued, Edwin felt his mood sour.
Before Edwin could act on his irritation, Kyle beat him to it with a question.
“You’ll be meeting Miss Diaz again, won’t you?”
“Probably. She said she left a handkerchief behind.”
Kyle watched Edwin’s expression brighten and offered an invitation card.
“What’s this?”
Edwin took it and asked Kyle.
“An invitation to an ancient artifact exhibition. How long do you plan to use that handkerchief as an excuse?”
Kyle added that he’d remembered from prior investigation records that Lina had attended archaeology lectures throughout her time at the Academy, even though it wasn’t her major, so he’d prepared this.
Edwin, who’d already been worried about what would come after returning the handkerchief, carefully kept the invitation.
“I heard that exhibition changes themes weekly. It’s supposedly a four-part exhibition total.”
Kyle smiled with satisfaction.
On reflection, Carolina Diaz didn’t seem like a bad choice for an empress candidate.
She had refined taste and deep common sense, after all.

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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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