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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: A Sweet and Salty Surprise
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“Sigh.”
“Little Marquess? Is something troubling you?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
I shook my head at the chef’s warm voice and slumped over the table.
“Siiiigh.”
As if to mock my claim that it was nothing, an even longer sigh escaped me this time.
I turned my listless head slightly, and bright sunlight poured in through the large window.
“He said we’d go on a picnic again when the weather got better.”
In the end, the picnic that day had been ruined by a sudden downpour, and the fireworks along with it.
[“Once the weather clears, we can simply go on a picnic then, so please don’t be too disappointed.”]
That’s what he said.
But forget a picnic, it had already been nearly ten days since I’d even seen Enoch’s face.
“He must be incredibly busy.”
“Pardon? Who is?”
“His Majesty.”
At my dejected voice, the chef’s curled brown mustache seemed to droop in sympathy.
“Indeed. His Majesty has been so busy lately that he hasn’t even been eating properly. Sigh.”
He seemed genuinely worried, sighing until his plump belly seemed to deflate.
At that, I withdrew the hand I was about to extend toward the snack tray, my own eyebrows drooping sadly.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. It wasn’t even certain…”
To think he was so busy he was skipping meals.
‘Then again, Enoch looked extremely serious at the time.’
Fiddling with the white napkin that resembled a blank letter, I recalled our conversation from that day.
[“That rumor… it might not be entirely false.”]
“What? What do you mean by that?”
“The power Elisha is using might be mine. She said it herself—that she was only taking back what I had stolen.”
[“…First, we must re-investigate whether it’s true that you manifested a special ability in the first place.”]
According to Enoch, the temple recorded and stored information on whether every citizen of the empire had manifested a power. So, all we had to do was check the records.
However, he did mention that the temple, which kept the imperial authority in check, would not hand over such information easily…
“It seems to be even harder than I thought.”
Still, thinking I could be of some help while Enoch was wrangling with the temple, I tried to reveal the secret of the blank letters with a flourish, but…
That wasn’t easy either.
I thought there might be some clue since Riana had written the letters, but even after turning the mansion upside down, nothing came up.
‘It’s almost as if she anticipated I would do this and cleared everything away.’
Remembering how uncannily neat and tidy Riana’s room and the mansion had been, I practically melted like a boneless heap.
“Ugh. I want to be helpful too…”
“You should eat something…”
The chef, who had been sighing as if the world were ending in front of my crumpled form, suddenly had a sparkle in his eyes.
“Little Marquess! You said you wanted to be of help to His Majesty, correct?”
“Pardon? Yes, I did say that, but…?”
I answered, bewildered by the sudden octave jump in his voice, and the chef clapped his thick hands together with a smack.
“Then how about packing a simple lunch box for His Majesty?”
“A lunch box?”
“Yes! Something simple he can eat while he works!”
The idea was tempting, and I started to push myself up from my slumped position, but then I heard a commotion from the kitchen and shook my head.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly impose any further.”
Ariel had apparently found making cupcakes that day quite fun, as she often pestered me to come here afterward.
And this kind-looking chef always said we were welcome anytime.
Still, I felt it would be shameless to do anything more here.
So I waved my hand in refusal, but the chef, who had been as limp as a rice cake, suddenly hoisted me to my feet.
“Impose? Not at all! Now, hurry and get up. We have much to do!”
***
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The sound of a bowl hitting the floor echoed loudly, and a fine white powder drifted through the air.
“Wow! It’s snow! Oh my, look! ‘Riel is a snowman!”
I felt like crying as I watched Ariel waddle around, trying not to spill the flour that had settled like soft powder on her head.
“I’m so sorry. This is why I said we shouldn’t do it…”
My eyes trembled like an earthquake as I looked at the ruined kitchen, but at my crestfallen voice, the chef let out another hearty laugh.
“Ahahaha! Not at all, not at all. This is nothing we can’t clean up!”
“I’m truly sorry. I’ll clean everything before I leave.”
The chef waved his hands dismissively at me as I apologized, my face smudged with flour, and then stroked his chin with a serious expression.
“Hmm. Little Marquess, shall we change the menu?”
“…Again?”
“Ahahaha! Come to think of it, I don’t believe His Majesty particularly enjoys bread. Cookies. Yes, shall we make cookies?”
“But His Majesty eats bread just fine?”
“Hahaha! Now, now. Please have a seat right here.”
Pretending not to hear me, the chef sat Ariel and me down in chairs and turned to get the cookie cutters.
“The menu keeps getting simpler.”
This was already the fourth time the menu had changed.
Unlike our initial grand plans, the lunch box, which had been downsized through sandwiches and bread, finally settled on a completely new route: cookies.
“This won’t be as difficult, so don’t you worry! All you have to do is press the cookie cutters into the dough.”
The chef’s booming voice announced as he returned with his arms full of something.
“Goodness. Are all of those cookie cutters?”
“Wow! A teddy! A teddy bear!”
The chef beamed, watching Ariel skillfully pick out a bear shape from the pile that tumbled onto the table, and nodded.
“Yes. What do you think? Believe it or not, these are treasures I’ve collected for decades.”
“There’s a ducky too, and a doggy too, and a sun too! There’s so, so many!”
“Wow… there really are a lot.”
As I stared blankly at the mountain of cookie cutters, I lifted my gaze, and the chef proudly wiped under his nose with a finger.
“Is there any shape you want that you don’t see? If so, just say the word. I’ll find it for you!”
It seemed what was on the table wasn’t all he had.
His chubby hand proudly patted a large box behind him.
“Don’t tell me… that’s also full of cookie cutters?”
“Yes! That’s right.”
“But why are there so many? There aren’t any children in the imperial palace.”
“I just thought they might be useful someday—Ah! Would you look at this?”
The chef, grinning from ear to ear, opened the box and held something out to me.
“What do you think?”
“Um…”
What is this?
Since it came from that box, it must be a cookie cutter, right?
An apple? An eagle? No, a pear?
I carefully examined the abstractly shaped cutter, whose identity was a complete mystery, and slowly gave a thumbs-up.
“It’s… amazing…?”
Fortunately, my answer seemed to please him, as the chef’s eyes sparkled even more brightly.
“Isn’t it? I made it myself. I used to bake cookies for His Majesty with this when he was a child.”
“Oh, you did? But what shape is it?”
“Ah, it’s a butterfly!”
“…A butterfly? Ah, a butterfly. Hmm, I see.”
So the part that looks like an eagle’s beak is supposed to be the butterfly’s antenna, I thought, my head tilting slightly.
“Huh?”
“Is something wrong, Little Marquess?”
“No, it’s nothing much…”
As I stared at the bizarrely shaped cutter he claimed was a butterfly, my eyelids slowly fluttered.
“It just feels strangely familiar.”
“This?”
At my reply, the chef scratched his short, curly hair, looking puzzled.
“But this is one of a kind in the empire, made from a drawing of a butterfly His Majesty gave me.”
“I know.”
There was no way another cookie cutter of such a peculiar shape could exist.
I soon shook my head.
“I must be mistaken about something.”
I didn’t have any memories to begin with, so there was no way this cutter I was seeing for the first time could be familiar.
The chef shrugged along with me and then clapped his hands together.
“Alright! Shall we make some cookies now? Ah, no, Little Marquess! That’s salt, not sugar!”
***
“Little Marquess, little Miss Ariel. Look at this. The cookies are perfectly—oops.”
The chef, who was bringing out the well-baked cookies along with their delicious smell, clamped his mouth shut.
“She insisted on cleaning everything, she must have been exhausted.”
The chef smiled fondly at Riana and Ariel, who were leaning against each other, fast asleep, and tiptoed over.
A hum escaped him as he precariously balanced on his toes and safely set down the tray of cookies.
“One little butterfly, two little butterflies, hm hm hm.”
The chef, who was even keeping time with his round belly as he packaged the cookies, suddenly felt a chill and looked behind him.
“Your… Your Majesty? How did you get all the way here—”
“Shh.”
Enoch, who had appeared at some point, was supporting Riana’s head as it lolled to the side. He brought a finger to his lips.
Seeing Riana sleeping so soundly she was letting out soft breaths, the red lips beneath his finger curved into a gentle arc.
Enoch carefully leaned Riana’s head against the wall and slowly approached the table.
“I came because I heard Riana and Ariel were here. What is this?”
“Ah, Your Majesty. About this.”
At Enoch’s question, the chef puffed out his chest proudly as if presenting his own culinary masterpiece.
“The Little Marquess and the young miss made these for Your Majesty.”
“For me?”
“Yes. They were so worried that Your Majesty was too busy to even eat your meals.”
“Riana was worried about me?”
Ha. A low chuckle rumbled, and the chef shook his ears, wondering if he had misheard.
Then, seeing the joyful crinkle of Enoch’s eyes, he rubbed his own. Was he seeing things?
“Your Majesty, it’s been a very long time since I’ve seen you smile like that.”
“Is that so.”
Enoch touched his own face as if it felt unfamiliar and reached for a cookie.
Then he paused. His hand hovered in the air, hesitant to approach the questionable color.
“Hmm. The color is…”
Are there multiple flavors?
Enoch tilted his head once, then took a bite of one. A loud crunch echoed.
“…”
“Your Majesty, how is it? Is it delicious?”
Even as the Black Elder leaned in curiously beside him, Enoch chewed the cookie slowly without a word, his face turning slightly red.
“…Cough.”
Cough. Cough.
Coughing repeatedly, Enoch turned the cookie over in his hand with a look of wonder.
“What did they put in this to make it taste like this…?”
At that reaction, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, the Black Elder’s hand shot out.
“What on earth does it taste like?”
“Ahem.”
But his attempt was blocked by Enoch before he could even get near the cookie.
“Just one bite, I’ll just have a taste.”
“No.”
“Hmph, how petty of you.”
“I’ve always been petty. You didn’t know?”
A shameless reply flowed from Enoch’s lips as he carefully tucked the cookies the chef had packaged into his inner pocket.
