A few days after the lunch with Ena, Alme decided to try making milk ice cream. She had actually wanted to make it that very day, but unfortunately, she hadn't been able to get her hands on any milk. In this world, refrigerators weren't common in ordinary households, so very few homes kept perishable milk on hand. Since common folk didn't buy it, naturally, the amount of milk available in the market was limited. On that day, when Alme had stopped by the market on her way home, the milk vendor had already closed shop. The next day, she visited the milk shop again and setup a regular purchase contract. This morning, she had picked up the first batch. If she was going to serve milk ice cream at her shop from now on, she needed to ensure a steady stream of ingredients. The milk shop had gladly agreed to the contract, which was a relief for now. In the kitchen on the first floor of her home, Alme prepared a large pot and bowl. She cradled the milk tank made of tin in both arms and poured the milk into the pot. Next, she added a generous amount of sugar and cracked in several eggs. Then, she split vanilla bean pods and scraped out the seeds with a spoon, adding them as well. After mixing the ingredients with a whisk, she put the pot on the stove. While stirring with a spatula to prevent it from boiling over, she checked the consistency of the mixture. Alme's face automatically brightened as the sweet scent of milk and vanilla reached her nose. It was an irresistibly appetizing, delicious aroma. When the mixture became slightly thicker, she turned off the heat. The milk base was now complete. She set a strainer over a large bowl and began transferring the milk mixture from the pot. Using a soup ladle, she slowly poured the liquid into the bowl. After finishing the transfer, Alme took a moment to catch her breath. All that was left was to chill the liquid and the milk ice cream would be ready. Focusing her mind on both her hands, she activated her ice magic. She channeled the magic through the spatula she was holding, slowly stirring and chilling the milk mixture. Just as she started using her magic, a soft tinkling sound of the call bell came from the shop's entrance. "Oh? Could that be Ena-san?" she wondered. Since they had talked about making milk ice cream after their lunch the other day, Ena might have come to see how it was going. It would be perfect timing for a taste test. Would people from this world like milk ice cream too? Alme headed towards the entrance, still wearing her apron. However, when she opened the door, it wasn't Ena standing there, but a man. Alme recognized the tall, handsome person with brown hair. It was Falc, whom she had met the other day. He was wearing a soft-looking natural colored shirt and dark brown slacks. Though his outfit was casual and rather plain, his well-proportioned face and figure made it look incredibly stylish. He was quite a fortunate person in that regard. "Good afternoon, Alme-san," he greeted. "Falc-san...! I-I'm sorry, you've come all this way, but the ice cream shop isn't open yet..."

"Ah, no, that's not why I came. I'm here to return the scarf I borrowed the other day. I wore it around my neck, but I had it cleaned at a shop and added some perfume as well... If it still displeases you, you can dispose of it..." Falc handed her a small paper bag. She accepted it reflexively as it was presented to her, but she broke into a cold sweat. (Oh no... That scarf has come back to me...) The image of the horror story from her previous life, the Mary doll, flashed through her mind. She shuddered at the thought of Julio's scarf returning no matter how many times she tried to get rid of it. Seeing Alme freeze up, Falc hunched his shoulders dejectedly. "...I'm sorry, was I being a bother?" Falc asked. "No, not at all! I was just thinking about something else, please don't worry about it! I'm sorry you had to go through all this trouble. Thank you very much," Alme tried to reassure him. Inside the paper bag, along with the scarf, were several small boxes that appeared to be scented soaps. The design of the boxes was visibly stylish and gave off a sense of luxury. Alme felt even more apologetic. To think she would receive such wonderful items in return for pushing that ill-fated scarf onto him... "After meeting you that day, Alme-san, when I returned to my workplace, my mentor told me something. This scarf is from a popular gentlemen's clothing store in this town. Could it be that I borrowed something belonging to your husband? I hope it didn't cause any trouble," Falc said. "Oh no, not at all! I don't even have a husband, let alone a boyfriend, so there's absolutely no problem. This scarf was, um, something I happened to receive from an acquaintance..." Alme explained hastily. "Oh, is that so? Thank goodness," Falc sighed. Alme had fumbled through her explanation, but Falc didn't seem to mind, so she decided to let it be. As their conversation reached a natural pause, Alme noticed something else that concerned her. "By the way, Falc-san. Today's weather is relatively comfortable for this town, but... you look terribly hot. Sweat is dripping down your face," she observed. "Do I look that bad? ...To be honest, I feel like I'm about to melt from the heat... I have an ice magic stone in my pocket, but... unless I put them all over my body, it's just a drop in a bucket," Falc confessed. He made a bitter face and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. His bangs parted, revealing his forehead. The sweat glistening on his beautifully masculine features created a refreshing sight for onlookers, though Alme refrained from mentioning this, seeing how uncomfortable he was. "The locals are walking around looking fine, so why am I the only one suffering from this heat? Does this town hate me? It's as if the town is playing a trick on me, casting some heat spell..." Falc lamented. "There's no such magic, please pull yourself together," Alme exclaimed. The moment he started, Falc would not stop complaining. Until a moment ago, he had maintained a relatively composed attitude, but now he was fanning his neck with his palm without restraint. Feeling guilty about sending her guest away in such a heat-stricken state, Alme decided to invite him back into the shop. "Why don't you cool off in the shop again before heading home? — If you have room in your stomach, I'd like your help with something. It's a taste test for a new ice cream flavor." "I have plenty of room! Absolutely!" Falc replied, almost cutting off Alme's words. It was a very honest and enthusiastic response. This person was quite amusing, contrary to his beautiful appearance. Alme was delighted to have found such a willing participant for the taste test.