After finishing her tutoring session with Mr. Fletcher, Hera watched as he left with an energetic step, as if he’d found the answers to his worries. Heading toward the door, he waved his hand dismissively. "No need to see out, Hera. I know you’ve got your work to do," he said, his voice light.
Hera chuckled, feeling a warm familiarity. His teasing reminded her of her own grandfather, making her feel a deeper connection to him.
"It’s no trouble," she replied with a smile. "I’ll just walk you to the elevator. It’s no big deal."
Mr. Fletcher sighed, though a fond smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I can never win with you," he said, pretending to be annoyed but unable to hide his affection. "Well, do as you please, then." Over ti, he’d co to see Hera as a granddaughter. She was easy to love, and her cheerful nature made it impossible not to care for her.
As the elevator doors opened, Mr. Fletcher stepped inside, giving Hera a nod and a cheerful farewell. Hera waited until the doors slid shut before turning on her heel and walking away, humming to herself.
As she strolled down the hallway, her gaze naturally drifted toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the corridor. She noticed the sky was already beginning to darken, and a small smile tugged at her lips. She had spent so much ti in her study that she hadn’t realized how late it had beco.
Stopping in her tracks, Hera stood there for a mont, srized by the view. The sun was sinking below the horizon, casting a warm red glow across the sky. As twilight deepened, the lights in the garden flickered on, softly illuminating the lush greenery and creating a peaceful, almost magical atmosphere that made the night feel alive.
Hera took a slow, steady breath, standing there for a mont in peaceful silence, allowing herself to soak in the tranquility. After a while, she turned and headed back inside the penthouse, walking with purpose toward her study. There, she dove right back into her tasks, focusing on the few remaining lessons before she moved on to her script reading.
An hour later, a soft knock on the door interrupted her concentration.
"Young Miss, dinner is ready," Amy’s voice called through the door. "Please co down and eat before you return to your work."
"Alright, Amy, I’ll be down in a mont. I’m almost finished," Hera replied, her attention still fixed on the notes her acting tutor had given her.
"Young Miss, Old Master Avery called to check up on you," Amy said with a soft smile. "He knew you were busy, so he didn’t want to interrupt, but he did ask to remind you not to skip your als, no matter what."
Amy’s gaze lingered with a touch of concern. She and Hannah had noticed how hard Hera had been working lately, and they both felt a deep sense of sympathy. They couldn’t quite understand why Hera pushed herself so relentlessly.
Unlike other young masters and ladies in their circle—who spent their ti indulging in leisure, parties, and socializing—Hera had chosen a much different path. She dedicated herself fully to her work, barely sparing a thought for the fun and enjoynt that others her age pursued.
Amy felt as if she and Hannah were the ones bearing the stress, watching Hera sacrifice so much without a second thought for herself.
Thankfully, Hera’s grandfather still understood her better than anyone else. Even without Amy’s report, he always seed to know exactly what Hera needed—like this tily reminder.
anwhile, Hannah had been preparing delicious and nutritious als to ensure that Hera had enough energy to keep up with her demanding schedule and maintain her health.
At Amy’s words, Hera paused her reading and looked up with a soft chuckle. "My grandfather really does know best," she remarked, her voice filled with warmth. She reached for a delicate golden rose bookmark, carefully placing it where she had stopped, then folded the script and set it aside. "Alright, I’ll head down now." Amy couldn’t help but smile widely, feeling relieved as she watched Hera rise from her seat.
The two made their way down to the dining area, where Hannah was already setting the table. "Young Miss, you’ve co down just in ti—the food’s still hot!" she said cheerfully, a smile lighting up her face. With a graceful gesture, Hannah pulled out Hera’s chair for her and gently pushed it inward as Hera sat, making sure she didn’t have to do it herself.
"Thank you, Amy, Hannah. Please make sure you have your al too," Hera said, her eyes scanning the spread before her.
The first dish that caught her attention was the Vietnase sumr rolls, each beautifully rolled with plump shrimp on top, vibrant herbs, and rice noodles, all wrapped in delicate rice paper.
The vivid green of the herbs and the glossy shrimp made it look incredibly fresh and appetizing. The homade vinegar and spicy peanut sauce beside it promised the perfect balance of tang and heat.
Next, there was a Vietnase braised fish, its rich aroma filling the air. Generously cooked with ginger, garlic, and chili in a clay pot, the fish appeared tender and aty, its surface gleaming in a soy-based sauce.
The Beef Pho, served next, was a hearty sight—planks of tender beef, tendons, and offals swimming in a steaming broth, all complented by a generous helping of fresh herbs.
To complete the al, Hannah had thoughtfully prepared a side of pickled garlic and homade oyster sauce, knowing that the milder flavors of Vietnase cuisine often relied on the natural taste of the ingredients.
The homade sauces would ensure Hera didn’t tire of the flavors, adding just the right amount of punch to each dish.
Lately, Hera had been indulging in a variety of bold Asian cuisines, from Chinese to Japanese to Korean, all known for their stronger, more pronounced flavors. So, the milder taste of the Vietnase dishes would offer a refreshing change for her palate.
The delicate flavors allowed Hera to savor the natural essence of each ingredient, while the homade sauces gave her the option to add a little extra kick when desired.
There were also a few other dishes to choose from, like the tangy Green Papaya Salad, creamy Fernted Tofu, hearty Vietnase Congee, and tender Braised Pork. With so many options, Hera could indulge in every bite, enjoying the variety.
To complent it all, there was a fish sauce on the side, just in case she wanted to enhance any dish with a little extra flavor. Hera appreciated this balance, enjoying the subtle shift in taste as a pleasant change from her usual als.
As for her drink, there was a pitcher of Vietnase sugar cane juice sitting on the table. Hera’s eyes naturally gravitated toward it, and noticing her interest, Hannah couldn’t help but explain with a grin, "Young Miss, we imported the sugar cane directly from Vietnam to ensure everything was authentic."
While importing the sugar cane wasn’t strictly necessary—Hannah could have easily recreated the flavor with local ingredients—getting the sugar cane itself had proven difficult.
So, since they were already importing other ingredients, she had decided to include it in the shipnt, ensuring the drink’s true essence was preserved.
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