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Snacking between meals is a must.

In the evening, everyone gathers for a hearty feast.

In Iceland, this food culture has developed overall due to a combination of tradition and a past where hunger was engraved in their blood.

On the other hand, in Kingsland, such hearty feasting seems reserved for special occasions like birthdays, anniversaries, and festivals.

Unlike Iceland, this place was a bit more individualistic.

Depending on one’s mood and schedule, people would dine together or alone, and while families would try to gather for dinner, it wasn’t obligatory.

Additionally, there’s a unique tea culture that recently flowed in with the influence of the Servianus, where having a designated tea time is a norm.

Amidst this, Catherine found herself attending a small banquet hosted by the royal family during lunch. Naturally, Karem followed her closely with Mary.

The attendees were spectacular.

All the dukes of the Kingdom of Seophone brought their families, alongside the permanent committee members discussing national affairs and their families, too.

However, to Karem, who had been colored by Iceland as much as the locals, the scale seemed truly quaint.

Of course, those seated here were like diplomatic treasure troves, but still.

“It feels more natural than I expected.”

“You did get drilled more than a bit. This much is nothing.”

“Of course. Who do you think taught me?”

“That would be Miss Catherine Marigold Atanitas.”

To think someone who wasn’t even a chef could drill people so well! Yet, it was clear that Karem had learned ‘etiquette that wouldn’t make a noble frown’ thoroughly drilled into him.

“Excuse me, Catherine-”

“My God! It’s been days. How have you been?”

And then an unexpected intruder, Michael, shoved past the servant trying to guide him, ruining all of Catherine’s efforts.

*

*

*

Recently, there was one more thing that was wildly trending in Kingsland besides tea time.

Dishes made from the meat of beasts and monsters.

And as the love for meat in the food culture of the Kingdom of Seophone blended into the banquets held by the royal family, Karem was treated to a spectacle he had only witnessed once in Iceland.

A large, spacious table arranged in a ㄷ shape, various roasted, stir-fried, deep-fried, steamed, and braised dishes showcasing the forms of monsters and beasts, either intact or altered.

Besides beer and wine, the usual fruits, and a blend of bizarre fruits, there were no visible vitamins or fibers. The word ‘vegetables’ only appeared under the guise of what lay beneath the food as decor.

Not even the thought of the orc warrior’s belly fat could be imagined as an ingredient before him, but Karem was sweating cold.

“The one sitting next to Duke Atanitas is exactly that one… God help us.”

“That bloodstained fellow. Doesn’t it seem blasphemous?”

“It’s bloodstained, after all. Who would be curious about what’s inside that head?”

“More than that, aren’t you curious about the relationship between the two?”

“…What do you plan to do?”

“This is outrageous.”

All eyes at the banquet shifted towards Karem.

Of course, not everyone was looking at him, but that was only a minor number.

Karem had certainly experienced such an intense gaze before, but compared to his coming-of-age ceremony, this throng felt lighter. Back in Wintersend, it had been exponentially worse.

Yet, this was different.

One crucial distinction.

“Well, I’ve heard that four chefs with the same name come from different backgrounds… Was that just one person?”

“I’ve heard he adopted a boy since he couldn’t find a man to his liking… But that isn’t a boy, is it? He’s all grown up.”

“It’s just that the news only reached now. Apparently, he bore the curse of the dark sorcerer to find a master. He aged as a consequence.”

“Then it’s the Curse of Aging, isn’t it? Ah… No, it wouldn’t be possible without a sage by his side at that young age.”

“But a god, isn’t that blasphemous? In the Grand Sanctuary-”

“Then what relation does a peasant chef and a bloodstained fellow have?”

Those saying such things all had statuses higher than those seen at the past gathering.

However, no one came up to inquire him directly.

“Duke Atanitas, if I may-”

“If you know it’s rude, you shouldn’t ask.”

At least, not yet. Catherine, visibly annoyed, was coldly blocking any further conversation.

The very person who had just chased Michael away was now sitting besides the king, queen, and prince, as if nothing had happened.

Irritated, Karem silently offered thanks while desperately diverting his attention to the dish nearest to him.

“Mary, what was this made of again?”

“Roasted orc belly.”

Mary discreetly glanced at the meat carver in the distance and picked up a long serving fork and knife that had been resting on a large plate.

“That’s what the servant introduced it as.”

Hmm… Orc belly, huh? The head trophy of a cockatrice, deep-fried wyvern wings, and other dishes that, if you squinted, still bore the living forms of their ingredients.

Compared to the dishes introduced by the chefs, who roamed like beast tamers around the table, these seemed quite plain.

“This is the whole head of a cockatrice.”

“Hmm? Where’s the biggest crest in the center?”

“Your Grace-”

“Oh, that’s a bit disappointing.”

Especially compared to the enormous head of the chicken served on Catherine’s plate, pushed around by the cart that had made its rounds.

“The crest of a cockatrice?”

“Yes. Unlike the high-level monsters that are dangerous just to look at, its flavor is rather ordinary.”

Its appearance was relatively normal considering its ominous name. Relatively. When does one ever eat chicken crests, right?

Of course, it looked something like a well-roasted, plump chicken skin curled inward.

“Want a bite?”

“Umm, just a little then.”

“Mary.”

Mary swiftly sliced the roasted orc belly and placed a piece of the well-cooked cockatrice crest onto Karem’s plate.

Crispy- crispy- crispy-

“Hmm?”

And… surprisingly, it tasted better than expected.

The crest, with its plumpness, tasted like the thin, crispy skin of a perfectly roasted chicken as if it were fried in its own juices, merging with the crunchy, oily chicken skin.

With rich chicken fat filling the inside, every bite astounded him, unleashing a concentrated flavor and juices recalling ordinary chicken.

By the end, only the rich taste and chewy texture, reminiscent of well-roasted chicken skin, remained in his mouth.

“This… The rich flavor is surprisingly good.”

“The texture along with the rich flavor makes for a delightful drink. Mary.”

“Here’s the wine.”

The roasted orc belly had a flavor different from what he expected.

Crispy skin and oil drained, creating a crunchy and nutty oil layer, with tender flesh that tasted almost…

“More like… fish than pork?”

Specifically, it resembled fatty white fish. Not the mackerel or tuna types, but rather like a firmer anglerfish or grouper.

“I would like to propose a toast to the esteemed lord who graces this gathering.”

Suddenly, a toast?! The smooth words of Reid, whose chin and head had no scruff unlike Zigmeser, caught everyone’s attention.

“A toast? What does that mean?”

“For instance, a sauce for the fish fry that the lord dips.”

Inamark looked at Reid while dipping into a tartar sauce with onions and pickles.

“Despite being young, you’ve developed numerous dishes and sauces, and instead of hiding them away, you’ve shared them with the world, defying the arrogant noble elf brigade of Bersengzeto, as I have heard.”

Reid glanced across the table, looking at the dishes and then skimming over Catherine and Karem.

“Lord Brian, how are the noble elves of Bersengzeto doing nowadays? I’ve heard they trickled into the area last year.”

“Hah, how do you suppose.”

Stripping the remnants of fish bones from his prosthetic hand, Brian chuckled while bang-banging down on the table.

“Those arrogant folk pretend to act humble, but behind the scenes, they’re eagerly hunting for the developers’ identities, new crops, and any new recipes, even offering bounties to get a hand on them. Ah, Lumiere. There’s no babysitter involved.”

“Not at all, My Duke. I well know how egotistical some of the elves from Bersengzeto are.”

“Rumor has it… even the high elves who supposedly can’t die are losing their minds over the cooking and sauces like rural girls seeing a prince.”

Sailors and pirates are naturally skilled in spinning tales and exaggerating achievements. Thus, at least half might be true, but even if the latter half was fact, it felt incredibly refreshing.

“Thus, aside from the awards, I think you merit a toast.”

“Hmm, that is indeed a very accurate statement!”

Inamark, having passed Henry, who he had placed on his lap, to Belladonna, sprang up from his seat.

“I’ve heard that even common folks use discounted spices. That… what was it called…?”

“Fire Witch Finger, Your Grace.”

“Ah, yes. That’s still a rather ominous name, isn’t it? Surely it can’t be a poisonous plant.”

However, the spiciness, unlike pepper, with a gentle sweetness rising at the end, was something that couldn’t be dismissed just from its name and appearance.

“Let’s thank the discoverer and contributor for enriching the royal table and, above all, for making those nobles fluster in fear of their own shadows!”

As Inamark bellowed, everyone immediately raised their glasses. Seeing that, Karem felt the cold sweat trickling back down.

“Miss Catherine! Miss Catherine! What should we do about this?”

“First, raise your glass. Drink alongside them, then rise and bow before seating again. Hurry, the glass first!”

“To your health!”

Karem quickly whispered to his master, hastily raising his glass, following Inamark’s lead as others echoed the toast downing their beer.

“You, child of a serf who even caught a sage! May you be blessed with trouble from here on out!”

“Thank you! Thank you!”

Oh dear, such gratitude! Karem earnestly bowed at a right angle to express his thanks to Inamark before sitting back down, earning a glare from Catherine.

“You little…”

“Yes? I merely followed Miss Catherine’s words.”

After all, she was implying he should marry his beloved quickly, paying double or triple in taxes, so it was only right to show gratitude. Moreover, he had not disobeyed Catherine’s commands.

This is truly a win-win.

“Anyway… I suppose I should write a separate thank-you letter to Duke Richgold for his attentive gesture.”

“A thank-you letter?”

“Indeed.”

Catherine snickered as she noticed the now waning interest around her.

“Through the lord, with a single move, you raised the atmosphere and scattered the attentions focused on you.”

“Now that you mention it, the gazes…”

As Mary received Catherine’s brief pause, the latter nodded in response to Reid, who had been sending glances their way. Reid smiled softly, adjusting his sleeve while raising his wine glass towards Catherine.

“First things first, congratulations.”

“Congratulations?”

What kind of sudden remark was that? Mary, who had been quietly waiting on Catherine, puzzled over it.

“Yes, I mean Duke Richgold.”

“Why is that, my lord?”

“For reasons unknown, he seems to have taken a liking to your junior, Karem.”

“Is that so? What does that even mean-”

“Surely, if he had no reason, how could he calm the unnerved atmosphere around you, a gentleman of such nobility? Wouldn’t that be reasonable?”

“Isn’t it possible he wanted to charm Miss Catherine?”

“…Oh, I hadn’t thought of that… Huh?”

Mary stopped mid-sentence, turning her head. No, it wasn’t just her; everyone enjoying the banquet turned to look.

Crash-bang-!

A flustered servant rushed in, contrasting the festive atmosphere, only to be stopped by guards and knights.

“Your Grace! Territory conflict! It’s a territory conflict!”

“How dare they! Without my permission in my direct dominion!”

At those words, Inamark, who had been laughing moments ago, had his hair and beard standing on end like an angered lion.

“Only those wretched cultists would engage in such amusing matters amongst themselves! Pack up immediately! The banquet will pause for a moment! Move the venue entirely!”

“…You?”

“Territory conflict? I can’t miss out on something so fun! Bloodstained one! You come with me first, and everyone else will join once they escort the queen and prince!”

Inamark ordered hastily, dragging along Michael, who politely, yet rapidly, bowed towards Karem before rushing out.

This is real.

“Hah. That drunken pleasure-seeking hog is truly…”

“…Your Majesty, what should we do?”

“Well, what else is there? Since the king orders it, let’s follow.”

The queen, Cordelia, was trying hard to maintain her smile while trembling uncontrollably in anger with her lips and fingertips.

Karem looked to Catherine, asking what they should do. She blinked a few times, then fixed her gaze on Alfred, seeking guidance.

“Hah…”

A big sigh resonated amid the murmurs. Seeing Alfred nod with a look that said ‘I can’t with these people’, Catherine stood up.

“Miss Catherine?”

“It’s lord’s request. We are to follow the king.”

Noticing the nod urging them to rise, Karem and Mary placed down their dishes.

 

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