The witch and the poisonous apple

Roze takes a big breath. Mixed with the sweet aroma, it has the rich scent of apples with a dash of spiciness. It may also contain cinnamon and rum.

Cutting it with a knife is a little difficult. Even though the simmering, appetizing layer of apples is well-boiled thus soft, the bottom layer is hard. Some force must be applied.

As she cuts off the edge, a noise sounds, and Roze instinctively yelps. As it turns out, the noise comes from the solidified sugar portion.

When she finally manages to cut it, a relieved sigh leaks from her.

The above view of the dessert is beautiful, but so is the cut portion—

—soft, boiled sweet apples submerged in amber. It contrasts with the white crust, making her wants to gaze at it forever.

Such a shame that it has to be eaten, really.

Roze comes to the table, bringing both water and the divided Tarte Tatin. Harij puts the book aside, preparing to eat.

"Thanks for the feast."

Roze does the same and plunges her fork into the Tarte Tatin. As expected, her fork sinks easily into the soft apple. She takes a glance at Harij—he is eating the pie with a cool face and in a flawless manner. Then, she puts a bite in her mouth—

"—!!"

The refreshing scent of apples and the bitter sweetness of caramel make Roze happy.

Although coated in rice flour, making the apples hard to discern, the texture is still chewy.

While gripping the fork and with a mouth still full of the delicious taste, Roze prays—

—God was here.

Harij, who's glancing at Roze's appearance, moves his own fork without saying anything.