---

As the dried Alraune, which had gone cold during the journey, was immersed in a black liquid, beige shortbread cookies—about the thickness of a finger—plopped in.

Shortbread cookies are exceptionally low in moisture among cookies.

The crumbly, dry cookies absorbed moisture at a noticeable speed.

Like paint spreading on a blank canvas, the beige shortbread cookies were quickly dyed a light brown.

And just before they could completely lose their shape from absorbing too quickly, they were swiftly lifted and placed neatly into a square on the plate.

During that process, some corners or parts of the cookies were crushed or crumbled, but under the pressure from the moisture they had absorbed, there was nothing that could be done.

After enduring the damage, a mound of thick cream cheese was slathered on top of the square shortbread cookies laid on the plate’s bottom. And it was immediately crushed with a wooden spatula.

As the spatula spread the mound of cream cheese outwards while being smashed here and there, it was ultimately shaped to align with the shortbread cookie beneath.

It was a remarkably simple process to present as a dessert.

But the taste could certainly be described as exquisite.

The shortbread, rich like roasted beans and nuts, contained a black liquid that held a captivating and elegant aroma, which would feel pleasantly soft in texture.

The burnt taste felt from roasting would be masked just enough by the thick cream cheese, reducing the heaviness of the butter to a minimal level.

But the hands of the chef did not stop.

The shortbread was far from over.

And the initial process was repeated once again.

The shortbread cookies, now dyed light brown from their brief bath in the black liquid, were arranged on the cream cheese in a close-packed layer.

And just like the layer below, another mound was added.

This time, it was not cream cheese but a rich, heavy cream.

The mound of heavy cream, thickened further by adding melted, cooled butter to the whipped cream, was mercilessly crushed and spread evenly, just like the cream cheese stacked before it.

Completed with a simple but delicate touch.

It was certain that it would taste wonderful as is.

But there was still one step left.

The top layer of the four layers was coated with white heavy cream.

On top of that, a dark brown powder was showered like a heavy snowfall.

This fine, delicate dark brown dried Alraune powder, much finer than any snowfall, thickly blanketed the heavy cream, seamlessly covering the white landscape.

“Hmm, have you brought something I’ve never seen before again?”

“I’ve never heard of using cookies instead of cake bread.”

“Well, I suppose it’s not impossible? Sometimes pie crusts are made with cookies too. Oh dear!”

Smack. Catherine lightly slapped Gordon’s hand as he reached for the plate and nodded her head.

“But there’s one problem.”

“Problem?”

“Yes. Catherine relaxed her crossed arms and gently rested her chin.”

“I’m sure I told you to leave out the butter this time.”

“Because you’ve been eating too richly these last few days?”

“Exactly. But—”

Catherine removed her hand from her chin and pointed at the plate.

“But what is this? Isn’t this a shortbread cookie?”

“It’s not just shortbread; it’s in the cream too.”

“What? In the whipped cream?”

“It’s a specially made heavy cream with added butter.”

Karem spoke while clearing away the basket of shortbread cookies from the table.

“Wait, my order included cheese, didn’t it?”

“Isn’t that in there?”

“Huh? Where?”

“The cream cheese layered in the second layer.”

At Karem’s explanation, Gordon said “Oh,” and let his hands drop.

“The whipped cream with added butter. Heavy cream. Truly a hefty name that resonates. How hard it was to contain myself.”

Mary, with an expressionless face, quietly put down her spatula without revealing anything.

Upon closer look, her pupils were faintly trembling.

“That said, doesn’t it differ from the reactions you’ve shown until now?”

“Perhaps it’s thanks to this unique and elegant smell and the delightful aroma of butter.”

“Ah, right. This…”

Catherine paused as she was about to point at the plate again.

“What is this dessert called?”

“Tiramisu.”

“Hmm, does it mean ‘pick me up’ in Servianus? Little one. When did you learn Servianus words again?”

“Because I’ve had a reduction in work due to someone’s trickery.”

Karem shrugged as he masterfully covered past knowledge with present knowledge.

“I’ve casually studied a few decent phrases.”

Catherine repeated the word “tiramisu” several times in different variations and finally concluded.

“‘Tirare mi su.’ So it’s a contraction meaning feeling good.”

“Once you try it, I’m sure it’ll make you feel good?”

“Hmm. However, there’s one thing that’s bothering me.”

Catherine narrowed her eyes and silently extended her hand toward Mary. Mary quickly understood her intent and handed over the pouch she had brought along.

Catherine opened the pouch.

An aroma rich akin to roasted beans and nuts wafted out.

Accompanied with it were dark brown crumbs, appearing almost black.

“…Is that Alraune’s stem and leaves?”

“Yep. I got it from the kitchen.”

“…It’s been processed. While it won’t harm you to eat, uh… isn’t it a bit unsettling?”

Catherine picked up the dark brown crumbs from the pouch.

It was easy to predict what would happen if food or groceries touched her hand.

It was a curse that crumbled into ash-like form under the pressure of losing life and moisture.

But it didn’t crumble.

The dried Alraune’s stem and leaf crumbs were intact.

Of course.

Because it wasn’t for eating.

This belonged to magic materials.

For now.

“…It’s not among the magic materials that would harm if consumed.”

“No, Sir/Madam Mage. Are you saying that’s really Alraune’s stuff?”

“That’s right. It’s not a commonly used ingredient. By the way, to think I used something like this as an air freshener.”

“Wait a minute. Huh?”

As Gordon was about to voice his astonishment, he tilted his head in realization.

When thinking about it, it wasn’t entirely unprecedented.

The Fire Witch Finger, which Gordon also believed to be poisonous, had now become that necessary flavoring to a meal.

The Grizzly Beaver’s reproductive glands were also the same. Whose doing was it that the Grizzly Beaver vanilla was currently trending throughout Coldon, appealing to people of all ages?

Upon thinking so, he felt a sense of ease.

While it’s indeed deadly when eaten raw, he knew that too. After all, he had tried it once.

But when processed, the toxicity disappeared.

Could it be that it’s even safe to eat?

“…So when do we eat it?”

“Just wait a little bit.”

“What now? Are you going to sprinkle it? What’s going to happen with something that was once a monster’s venom?”

“Oh no. You’ve eaten too much already, so I have to prepare separately.”

“Ah.”

While Karem and Gordon were in a banter, Catherine finished her preparations. Mary set the plate with the tiramisu in front of her, adjusting her appearance.

“I’m a little excited about this.”

Catherine was slightly thrilled.

Of course, she didn’t show it much on the outside.

Cakes are originally meant to be served slice by slice.

It is not at all a thing to eat an entire cake all at once.

To eat a whole cake… how could anyone engage in such a disgraceful act!

Yet, at times, disgraceful acts evoke one’s romantic aspirations.

The wish to eat a whole cake all by oneself is a dream every woman, regardless of age or status, might have held at least once.

It’s analogous to men gobbling down giant roasted meats alone; a romantic taboo brimming with aspirations.

Although the tiramisu was small compared to an ordinary cake, it was still a whole piece.

It was sufficient to stir up one’s romantic inclinations.

“Let’s eat right away.”

As soon as Catherine’s words fell, Mary’s fork moved.

Swoosh.

The fork headed toward the corner of the tiramisu, gently piercing through the white heavy cream coated in dark brown Alraune powder until it hit the bottom in an instant.

While the shortbread cookies were undoubtedly a dense confection, thanks to the moisture absorbed, there was no resistance left like a sandcastle wet with water.

No, even less than the moisture of the cream cheese and heavy cream.

‘Heavy cream, cream cheese, shortbread cookie.’

And the dried Alraune crumbs soaked in the black liquid, along with that powder.

While the last part was a bit unsettling, Mary felt no aversion.

After all, the rest were all her favorites.

Most importantly, the two.

The example of Grizzly Beaver vanilla and the alluring scent of the dried Alraune crumbs had surged her curiosity.

No, not now. Mary. Later.

Mary took a small breath and fed the tiramisu to Catherine.

Huff.

The first thing Catherine felt was a strong bitterness.

But it didn’t last long because of the shortbread that followed.

The intense buttery flavor and moist, nutty cookie quickly diminished the bitterness, while the unique enviable charm of the dried Alraune lingered softly in her mouth.

There was no need to move her mouth.

The two-layered moist shortbread’s heavy cream and cream cheese layers collapsed in an instant.

It was just a matter of moving her tongue.

Now, the heavy cream, flavored intensively with butter, mixed with the creamy taste of milk and cheese, suppressed the bitter undertone.

But cream is cream, and cheese is cheese.

Just as she was about to be overwhelmed by the compounded richness of the creamy cheese made richer by the additional butter, the bitterness made its appearance once more.

But this was not the unpleasant bitterness that would scrunch up her taste buds.

It was the nutty flavor infused with roasted nuts.

The aroma of beans close to being burnt.

The subtle bitterness concentrated from peeled nuts.

Indeed, no description could accurately encompass it.

At that moment, Catherine gulped it down without savoring the taste any longer.

And the instant her mouth was empty, just as she opened it out of regret.

“…Ah!”

The aroma.

The sense of smell being the most critical element in tasting.

An organ that perceives and amplifies all sensations beyond sweetness, bitterness, sourness, and saltiness.

So-called taste receptors.

As the last addictive bitterness melted away like snow and the outside air flowed in, the aromas trapped within exploded.

The difference was worlds apart from merely eating and smelling.

The enchanting scent, now more concentrated, unfolded through her entire body, not just her mouth but directly along her inner pathways.

Though the tiramisu had long been swallowed, the rich aftertaste and a slight bitterness lingered, tantalizing her mouth.

Mary sensed what Catherine wanted.

Without a word, she moved her fork.

Having tasted it once, she found there was no room for hesitance.

To be exact, her tongue felt the rich aftertaste lingering in her mouth, prompting her body to yearn for that sensation once more, yet she was suppressed by Catherine’s rationality.

‘There’s no need to rush. There’s still plenty left.’

But as a large piece of tiramisu approached her mouth, Catherine could no longer hold back and swiftly ate it.

Already, an explosion of aromas filled with butter engulfed her taste buds, blended with the deep, alluring scents of burnt roasting.

The shortbread cookies gently crumbled while the cream cheese and heavy cream elevated the flavor to a new high.

And whenever the richness became perceptible, it invariably intervened and washed it away.

“This, this feels like I’d feel guilty for saying to eat this all at once after it’s gone.”

“Contractor?”

“No way. You should eat quickly too!”

“Well then, I won’t hold back…!”

At that, Mary’s eyes glimmered as she moved her fork like a predator.

“Wait a minute!”

“What is it, contractor? You’ve already released the reins of a beast you were suppressing. I won’t be stopping.”

“Not the ones I’m eating. You’ll need to prepare something exclusively for you.”

“Oh.”

Mary, brazenly disregarding her previous response, obediently lowered her fork and retrieved a new plate.

 

---