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Ianbert’s appearance was as haggard as an undead who had just come back to life two weeks ago.

Whether it was due to anemia, malnutrition, or whatever the cause, he looked like he could faint at any moment.

However, in stark contrast to his ragged appearance, the expression that had transformed on his face exuded pure joy, startling those who encountered him as he passed by or met due to schedules.

No, Karem actually thought that Ianbert was holding back quite a bit.

A meat lover, who had barely survived on a vegetarian diet for six months due to the gazes of others, only changes his look after finally getting proper food?

If it were his past self, he would have gone on a binge, tossing moderation aside and likely ended up in misery.

In the midst of all this, Ianbert requested a recipe.

He claimed that upon returning to Kingsland, he would eat without concern based on that.

Naturally, the recipes were limited to vegetable dishes that were palatable for a meat lover like him.

Though a note was added to exclude “Bersengzeto dishes,” it wasn’t really a problem.

Actually, it was a bit more challenging than usual.

Typically, recipes would pop into his head, but…

“…Uh, wait. Why can’t I think of any when I actually try?”

The recipe book in his mind was refusing to grant him permission for a recipe.

Thoughts that would usually arise without hesitation for Catherine simply didn’t come to mind, not even flipping the cover of the book.

Karem was flustered, but soon understood.

Originally, thoughts flow freely if you leave them be, but when you try to recall them, they simply refuse to appear, no matter what.

Time passed mercilessly.

Fortunately, he managed to fulfill the request just in time.

Falafel, peppers, various dishes including the vegetable tempura showcased earlier.

Different types of batter and combinations to vary the tempura.

Various ketchup-based sauces to accompany it.

Delicious buttermilk, sweet treats, chips, and more made from various vegetables and fruits.

He wished he could write down tofu preparation and cooking too, but he was still uncertain about that, so he left it out.

Just as he was about to leave, Ianbert, having received what he called the “Karem’s Incoherent Recipe – Vegetable Edition (Incomplete)” along with jars of soy sauce and gochujang, bent at the waist and greeted everyone with an overly cheerful voice, shocking many in plain sight.

Honestly, it was rude, but Karem decided to let it slide with an open heart.

The joy of a superior is never good news for subordinates.

Especially since they didn’t even know why their superior was so happy.

“…Does anyone know why he’s so delighted?”

“I don’t know. They say he’s that famous cook. Wasn’t he a fan of cooks?”

“Even so, isn’t it excessive treatment for some ordinary cook? What the heck is going on?”

Everyone except Ianbert discussed this until the very moment of departure, but they reached no conclusion.

Though the guest had left, the work was far from over.

The end of any affair hinges upon cleaning up the aftermath.

Winterhome became even busier after the guests departed.

They had to remove the decorations adorning the castle, restore the disassembled storage to its original state, and organize any leftover ingredients from the banquet.

Naturally, the priests were just as busy.

“So, Karem. You’ll be attending the coming-of-age ceremony, right?”

“Uh, I guess so?”

“Guess? Decide whether you will or not. We need to drop the little siblings’ talk too, don’t we?”

“I will.”

For them, the serious work was just beginning.

After getting a definitive answer, Iona, who had been hustling about, recited the precautions before moving on with her way.

*

*

*

The coming-of-age ceremony.

An extraordinarily unfamiliar term for Karem.

In his past life, he had only seen it in novels or videos occasionally, and in this life, he had no time to pay attention to such things.

In Iceland, the coming-of-age ceremony took place once a year. It was grandly held in the middle of winter, but if major events or festivals coincided, they’d hastily handle it. Last year, Wintersend went that way.

But today was not that day.

For Karem, it was more urgent to make a snack for Catherine.

So, Karem quickly gathered the ingredients from the storage and headed for the kitchen, momentarily stepping back without a thought.

“Huff… the freedom to work is back, and the air I breathe still feels sweet.”

Mary was stretching her arms towards the sky and taking a long breath. She had been subtly ignored for a few days, but it was hard to ignore her any longer.

“Is that footstep I hear, my junior Karem? You’ve arrived?”

“What’s with the fuss?”

“This isn’t fuss.”

When Mary, who usually had a blank expression, spoke with a serious face, it felt a bit intimidating.

“The value of labor is absolute. I feel just like a slave who has regained the freedom to work and the corresponding pay.”

“…So, you mean the joy of labor?”

“Exactly.”

Working basically for free, where could one find joy? No, that was a very species-discriminatory perspective.

Though the other was a human, she wasn’t exactly the same type.

If one were to be precise, they were of different species.

So it was natural for perspectives to differ, but that was one thing; this was another.

“What’s this about Robin Your Highness getting along with Princess Alicia?”

Mary, taking a pose to worship the sun, tilted her head back to glance at Karem.

“What kind of nonsense are you talking about?”

“The nonsense is from you, you work-addicted house fairy.”

“If, for some reason, I were to get injured and have to fully take over the kitchen duties you should be handling for a short time, how do you think that would feel?”

What would it feel like?

“I’d lose my mind, of course.”

After entering Winterhome and experiencing the heavy fallout from the aging curse, Karem had solely managed Catherine’s meals.

“Why do you ask, then?”

“That’s exactly what I felt.”

“Well, isn’t that overly clueless compared to Alicia’s grace? —So today’s snack ingredients are pork and eggplants… Huh? Eggplants?”

At the abruptly out-of-place pairing, Mary relinquished her sun-worshiping pose. There weren’t any other ingredients in the basket.

“Are you not making a snack right now?”

“Yes? Yes. They are all snack ingredients.”

“But what’s with the pork?”

“There’s no reason it can’t go together, right? I’m cutting it into long slices and frying it in starch.”

He cleared away the pork to reveal a small jar of starch hiding underneath.

“Well… I suppose that’s that.”

Mary reached towards the basket and cautiously picked up an eggplant.

Bouncy to the touch.

The size is just right to fit in one hand like an egg.

It had a smooth, glossy purple skin, freshly harvested from the greenhouse.

“What’s this eggplant for?”

“I’m going to fry the eggplant too.”

“…You said you’re frying eggplants?”

“And I plan to stir-fry it in a sweet and sour sauce.”

Grill it and simmer it, but frying it?

Mary was at a loss for words, blinking at him.

Karem briefly wondered why Mary was acting that way but soon realized the reason.

Mary hadn’t been present where Ianbert’s insides had gotten turned upside down.

Catherine had sent her off to the Mage Tower before showing it off to Ianbert, so she had missed it.

Karem recalled a few days ago for a moment.

“Hmm… fried eggplant, huh.”

“Wanna try one?”

“Alright. Bring it out.”

Crisp—

“…..Whoa?”

Karem understood Catherine’s feelings, as her eyes widened.

He had eaten the evil fried eggplant and thought that was all there was, but once he ate the fried eggplant, he was even more stunned.

Afterward, no matter how much one searched the world over to find it, no one ever cooked eggplant into a mushy dish, frying it in oil and simmering it in thick sauce were the mainstream cooking methods, and he even felt betrayed.

The betrayal felt greater than when he had received his enlistment notice right after the first semester ended and was pulled to the training facility the very next month.

And just when he had seemed to forget, Catherine suddenly mentioned she wanted to eat it yesterday for today’s snack.

Not just eggplants, but she was also planning to make sweet and sour pork as a side.

“…Let’s just say the pork is fine. There are chops, and it’s only lean meat.”

Shifting his gaze away from the pork, Mary again glanced back and forth between the eggplant she was holding in her hand and the one in the basket.

“But fried eggplant, huh.”

Once again, she wrinkled her brow in disgust.

“I feel like the moment I bite into the crispy batter, a hot green smell will surge. Is that truly a proper way to cook it?”

“Oh, once you taste it, you won’t think about anything else.”

“Even so, is it really that much?”

“You’ll find out when you try it.”

Feeling Mary’s stunned gaze, Karem took the basket and picked up the eggplant without hesitation.

In truth, frying isn’t that difficult of a cooking method.

Among fried foods, eggplant frying is particularly easy.

You pour water on starch, let the filling settle, then pour the water out while chilling it with your divine power.

Chop the unique eggplant into mouthful pieces and fry them in hot oil, letting them cool for a bit, then fry them again.

Sizzle sizzle sizzle—

Mary watched the entire process.

Frying. To be honest, she knew there was no way the food could taste bad.

The fragrance of the delightful golden coloring rose from the fried delicacy sizzling in the hot pot.

“Why on earth are you frying such a watery eggplant?”

“You’ll see once you taste it, I’m telling you.”

Mary huffed in disbelief.

Karem understood that skepticism, so he said nothing in reply.

In his previous life, it had only been after he tasted it himself that he could lay that doubt to rest.

“Alright, it’s all fried now.”

So, the simple way to resolve Mary’s skepticism was clear.

Karem scooped up the fried eggplants with a ladle, shaken off the oil, and put them on a plate.

“Here, have one.”

“Is this simply an unseasoned vegetable, fried eggplant?”

“You’ll change your mind after you try it.”

He sounded so overconfident.

Mary looked down at the fried eggplant with mixed feelings.

At first glance, the appearance passed.

The white batter glowing with golden energy looked crispy just by looking at it. The subtly rising savory aroma confirmed that impression.

The only thing he had ever bragged about and turned out to be subpar, apart from the fermented fish sauce and the red pepper powder, were pickles.

And neither of those were used here.

This was just a fried dish made from starch and eggplant.

However, Mary still couldn’t hide her doubts as she gingerly reached for the fried eggplant. More freshly fried eggplant piled on top.

“Are you savoring the taste with your eyes?”

“I was merely observing.”

“It’s going to taste worse if it gets cold, so hurry up and eat.”

She could feel the temperature of the fried item in her hand dropping slightly.

“Looks like I have no choice then.”

With a resigned huff, Mary closed her eyes and stuffed a fried eggplant into her mouth.

And the flavor of the fried eggplant…

Crisp—

Surprisingly, it wasn’t bad at all.

“…What is this?”

“I told you! Isn’t it delicious?”

“Then why in the world…?”

Mary tilted her head in confusion as she chewed the remaining fried eggplant again.

The exceptionally thin pastry-like batter shattered lightly in her mouth like breaking snowflakes.

And although the eggplant trapped inside was hot, its unique aroma was nowhere to be found.

The texture inside, reminiscent of custard, contained nothing but savoriness while it coolly subsided, yet still felt warm.

This was indeed the flavor of the eggplant, just as Karem had bragged.

Dishing up with heaps of condiments in the oven, scraping out the insides filled with vegetables and meat, and putting them in sauces to grill and simmer, those dishes weren’t meant to be enjoyed for the taste of eggplant.

Even grilled eggplant could stand alone against the flavor, but it couldn’t compare to this taste.

“Ah.”

Mary felt a pang of regret.

The light and savory fried eggplant vanished in an instant in her mouth.

And with the greedy gaze of a house fairy, she naturally turned towards the pile of fried eggplants.

“Karem. Please lend me a hand.”

“…Huh? What did you say?”

“Could you slice the pork?”

“…Yes. I understand.”

“Mary?”

Mary lingered a moment, her gaze still lingering on the fried eggplants, but complied with Karem’s request.

“I’m on it. How big should I slice them?”

 

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