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Gordon was flustered.

Suddenly overloaded with tasks, he felt it was awkward for the guests to see him distracted and was worried they’d leave.

“I thought you’d stay at least a month?”

“They say the Duchess is pregnant.”

“Oh, that’s a joyful event.”

“And she said she can’t eat meat.”

Gordon grasped the situation.

While Mary was packing, they prepared extra packhorses along with the Snowrunner he rode from the stables.

Karem wasn’t idle either. He asked Flora to fill the spatial expansion pouch with as many Earth Apples as possible.

“I originally planned to ask separately later…”

Though things had become bothersome, he decided it was good since it could also be used for cooking for Elizabeth if needed.

The prepared wagon, unlike before, set off filled with wooden barrels of Amadeus.

They didn’t hire escorts. Even if they hurried, they still needed at least a day of verification time, not to mention they didn’t objectively need protection at that moment.

They didn’t gallop through the night either. Otherwise, the horses and Snowrunners would quickly wear out even with a change.

Still, it was twice as fast compared to the journey there. They passed all the towns, except for one brief stop to replenish groceries, so it was understandable.

If they had arrived in the evening, they might have stayed for the night, but such fortunate happenstance did not occur.

“How well you’ve prepared for this situation.”

The next dawn after completely leaving Baron Bolton’s Territory, Catherine stifled a yawn as she looked at Karem.

“When did you prepare breakfast again?”

“I woke up earlier to get it ready.”

“It’s not that hard.”

As always, Mary had simply made sandwiches with what she prepared early.

“You fried the sandwiches?!”

“They’re warm and taste great. Plus, I quite like these sandwiches.”

Karem quickly offered the fried sandwiches as if urging her to eat.

Crisp—Crisp—!

She took a bite of the pointed edge cut diagonally.

The slightly hard yet crunchy bread released a mouthful of floury goodness, and each chew brought forth the delicate aroma of Akusare Mushrooms.

The ingredients inside were simple.

The main ingredients were slices of ham cut slightly thicker than parchment and a few pieces of cheese.

The savory saltiness of the ham flashed across her rich tongue, covered by the dense thickness of the cheese, creating a fantastical seasoning.

Thanks to being fried, the flavors seemed even bolder, but she was familiar with both the ham and cheese.

Honestly, this was the simplest sandwich Karem had made for Catherine so far.

At least there was the cheese toast?

But that was laden with five types of cheese generously buttered on both sides and crisped up, so that didn’t count.

However, both had something in common.

An aggressively oily taste.

That flavor which could be summed up in three words: “bad for you,” pressed against her dormant taste buds, waking them in a way that seemed to scold her for not reacting.

After a few more bites, Catherine began to feel something strange.

“Fried in butter, but no, this soft taste, what is it?”

“Want to take a guess?”

“I’d need to eat a bit more to know.”

With each bite of the toast, her tongue began to awaken.

Bread, ham, and cheese fried in Akusare Mushroom oil.

In between, something spread was sensed little by little.

It was somewhat mayonnaise-like in flavor and texture, but the creaminess was closer to that of butter, smoothly intertwining with the cheese and ham and fried bread.

A faint hint of milk lingered at the end.

Combining all the features, Catherine concluded.

“This is a béchamel sauce.”

“I applied it lightly on the inside.”

“And cream cheese?”

“You got everything right.”

A Monte Cristo sandwich.

The name sounded grand, but it was nothing special.

It’s a sandwich that, instead of being baked in an oven, is either pan-fried in batter or deep-fried.

“The Monte Cristo sandwich… but?”

“But?”

“The recipe is so simple that the name varies from place to place. It’s more common for them to sell it as fried toast rather than by its original name.”

“Hmm.”

Catherine focused on the Monte Cristo sandwich with a look of indifference. More than that, the sandwich in front of her was more important.

“What about ketchup?”

“I thought you might ask, so I brought it.”

“Mm. Right. It was lacking in acidity.”

Despite the haste of their travels, they were managing surprisingly well, thanks to the versatile worker Mary and the power of the space expansion pouch that had everything they needed. They were eating, sleeping, and resting far too comfortably for mere camping.

Thanks to that, Mary, who took care of nearly everything, was getting more and more at ease day by day.

Meanwhile, Catherine was also not sitting idle.

She was busy calculating something throughout the journey.

“Potions for pregnant women.”

Understanding Karem’s curiosity, Catherine revealed the nature of her calculations while not taking her eyes off the parchment.

“There are many factors to consider, and their interactions are complex, so I had no choice but to write it down.”

“Since the Duchess is pregnant?”

“That’s part of it.”

Catherine tapped the parchment filled with numbers, letters, and symbols with her quill.

“It said it’s becoming increasingly dry, but that might be a slight exaggeration from the meat-worship culture.”

Having shed the shock from receiving the letter, Catherine calmed her analysis of the situation.

“Of course, her weight might have decreased, so I need to calculate potions to compensate for that before returning.”

“So that you can make them as soon as we get back?”

Catherine nodded silently.

“Then those parchments must be the potion calculations?”

“Yes. They need to be made using the minimum ingredients possible to ensure health, enhance stamina, strengthen mental fortitude, and so forth—ah. Tsk. I miscalculated.”

Catherine remarked as she pulled out a new parchment, but Karem was more worried about another aspect.

“Morning sickness sounds dreadful.”

To a meat-loving Seophonean, Elizabeth must have resembled someone bedridden with an illness.

Of course, while the Seophone people were zealous, it was very difficult to maintain health by only eating vegetables and carbohydrates.

Excessive vegetarianism could even ruin health, with some vegans and the like suffering to the point of death from poor nutrition.

“Oils… could it be butter? Could it be that even oils aren’t allowed?”

And so he decided to check as soon as possible if he got the opportunity.

“But didn’t Olivier make potions way earlier?”

“The potion-making skills of a decrepit old man nearing his death are no better than mine. More importantly…”

Catherine scoffed with a mocking expression.

“What could a fool who accidentally melted his pot and created a tentacled pot monster possibly know? Ha!”

“But he recently rejuvenated, didn’t he?”

“Damn it, why did he have to give the Dragon Lord’s tail meat to him?!”

“Hey, am I to blame for this!?”

Strictly speaking, it was more of a health recovery than rejuvenation, but given the results, it could be overlooked.

Recalling reality, Catherine almost threw her quill down, but then casually shoved the parchment aside and stuck it into the inkpot before patting the empty space beside her.

Thud, plop—

As she combed through her tousled hair, Catherine’s face relaxed a little. She must have been quite annoyed to the point of needing a pillow on her knees.

“When we return and finish tidying up, make sure to stop by the main kitchen.”

Having regained her calm after being stroked on the forehead and head, she opened one eye and spoke.

“I might need your skills after all.”

“I can only barely substitute vegetables and fruits. Was there anything else?”

“Now that I read it again, flour is also mentioned.”

Thinking it over again, it seemed Elizabeth had a truly stubborn case of morning sickness.

She had never heard of anyone being that severe from the stories she heard from relatives and parents in her past life.

“Is there no potion to alleviate morning sickness?”

“There are, but…”

“Wait, seriously?”

“The side effects are so severe that they’ve stopped being used.”

It must have been an awkward statement because Catherine raised an eyebrow upon hearing Karem.

“I’m not recommending it, but considering her severe morning sickness, it’s just precautionary.”

“What about something that numbs the senses?”

“To numb even a tiny bit of the body when she has a baby in her womb already makes it even more dangerous!”

“Ugh… cancelled.”

In the end, it meant the morning sickness would have to be resolved through cooking alone.

Karem dismissed the thought of using the tail meat of the Wales beast.

They say pregnant women have to be cautious about tonics, and the one-time permanent effects of Dragon Lord meat could become toxic for the baby in her womb.

“Then the only answer left seems to be a Bersengzeto dish. Something like Ratatouille has a lot of vegetables.”

“Though the problem lies with the Bersengzeto dish.”

The more she listened, the more troubled she appeared. Catherine scratched her temple with a pained expression.

“What’s the issue? Purism? Extremism? After all, they only eat vegetables and fruits?”

“The problem is they only eat raw vegetables and fruits.”

“Ah!”

That was entirely unhelpful. As Catherine nodded, her forehead rubbed against the hand that had been stroking her head.

“They only cut and eat them without any preparation at all. Do you know the one thing essential for the current Bersengzeto cooking?”

“Um, flour?”

“Butter. Butter. Cheese is a bonus.”

Having conversed with Catherine, he suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu.

‘Did I forget something?’

It was an uncanny feeling, as if after dining out on a rainy day, he realized he’d forgotten to bring his umbrella or had just exited a movie theater and realized he left his phone behind.

It was as though he knew the word but couldn’t conjure it out, having not used it in so long.

However, perhaps as a reaction, the more he tried to recall it, the more it eluded him, giving him a headache until—

‘Can’t eat meat?’

Why had he forgotten that?

The meat problem seemed more easily resolvable than expected.

Meat is protein.

Then—

Knock, knock, knock!

“Contractor. Junior Karem. We have entered Coldon.”

As soon as he opened the window, an uplifted atmosphere struck him. Though no festival was taking place, heat surged through the city.

There was only one reasonable guess.

“Given the atmosphere, it seems that’s the only possibility?”

“Yeah. Looks like the news of her pregnancy has spread.”

“Seems they don’t know about the morning sickness. If they did—”

“It’d be gloomy. Not only that, in front of Winterhome and the inner castle gate, a crowd will swarm. Chaos will unfold as torches, prayers, weapons, and gifts circulate.”

Though he was about to call it an exaggeration, thinking about the current status of the Felwinter Family suited it.

“Richard Your Grace might come as well.”

“Considering the earliest, it’d be at least a month from now… no, if he rides in like last spring, he might arrive sooner than expected.”

If he thought about Richard’s personality, he’d probably bring along all kinds of beasts and monster materials to cater to the pregnant daughter-in-law.

No, he definitely will.

Catherine, Karem, and Mary, who was listening from the driver’s seat, could bet on it.

 

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