With no other choice, I filled my basket with grains and seeds and went to the kitchen.
There, I was astounded by Eloise’s thorough preparation.
Where had all those cooking utensils gone? Emptying the kitchen this completely would have required more than just one or two pairs of hands.
On one side of the kitchen, the chef had already begun cooking. He had secured all the necessary tools—knives, cutting boards, pots, and ladles.
On the other side of the kitchen, only a single small pot sat lonely.
There were no means to prepare ingredients, no equipment to execute any cooking methods whatsoever.
Since I would need to make soup, they had provided just one pot—a terrifyingly meticulous consideration.
It was a dazzling display of Eloise’s vicious scheme.
Giggle, giggle.
From the kitchen entrance came the sound of maids snickering. They began to talk loudly, clearly intending for me to hear.
“What an absurd competition.”
“The culinary family’s chef versus a fallen noble lady. Fresh ingredients versus dried-up seeds. Still, the pairs match perfectly. As if someone deliberately arranged it.”
“And what about the cooking utensils? One side has well-equipped artistic tools, while the other has a plate with huge chips missing.”
“How can anyone make soup with that? You couldn’t even make horse feed for a stable.”
The maids kept chattering, but I wasn’t angry. There wasn’t a single thing wrong with what they said.
I wouldn’t be able to make any food here. All I had were dry grains and one small pot.
I was completely dumbfounded. Did they really need to corner me to this extent? Was all this truly necessary?
The Crown Prince who felt excitement for the first time in a while. The idiot who would bring him nothing. The fool whom everyone in the Count’s residence and even the royal servants would look down upon.
My future was already determined. My sister would become even more of an outcast than she already was.
But it’s strange.
The more people are pushed into a corner, the more they want to struggle. I wanted to bite the arm of whoever was trying to crush me.
Though my hands were empty, my mind was filled with bitter emotions.
It was stubbornness, a rebellious spirit that wanted to do something, anything.
“Sister.”
Just then, I heard a voice calling me from outside the window. It was my troublemaking, stubborn sister.
“Sister. The problems aren’t two, but three.”
She must have been caught by someone. Looking like she had escaped through an iron wall, my sister shouted to me.
Lou repeated the same sentence while gasping for breath.
“The problems aren’t two, but three.”
Soon, servants who had chased after her covered her mouth and lifted her away. Even suspended in mid-air, the child stretched her arm long to show me three fingers.
Three problems? What had the Crown Prince said again?
‘I want you to make food for me. An ordinary dish good enough to eat for lunch every day, yet a special soup that can fill the brief, happy rest period given to me. That is my challenge.’
The Crown Prince’s challenge was an ordinary yet special soup. But how could the problems not be two, but three?
One for ordinary. One for special. And also……
Ah!
In that moment, I came to believe in fate.
They say that if you truly desire something, God will open a path for you despite any difficulties.
But I wonder.
The being who opened the door for me today and guided my path doesn’t seem to be God alone. Eloise, who ordered the storehouse and kitchen cleared. The servants and maids who followed their mistress’s orders and worked hard.
Without all of you, I would never have realized that the problems weren’t two, but three.
I decided to express my deep gratitude to the maids.
“Hey, you all. Could you please leave now? I’m trying to cook, and your chatter is quite bothersome.”
At my peaceful request, the maids laughed while nudging each other’s shoulders. One of them retorted with a sneering tone, as if she couldn’t stand the sight of me.
“Oh my, Miss. What cooking do you plan to do without ingredients or tools? Are you dreaming right now?”
“What are you talking about? I have plenty of ingredients. And the tools are just right.”
“Just right for what? Are you planning to make pig slop? If we had known your menu in advance, we would have left food waste in the kitchen for you, Miss. Garbage is perfect for pig slop, isn’t it? But we even cleared that away, so it’s quite unfortunate, don’t you think?”
“Are you saying you deliberately cleared the storehouse and kitchen? Surely not on your mistress’s orders?”
“No, that’s……”
The maids’ faces instantly hardened at my cold expression. Naturally, they feared making their mistress appear as a low-class lady who schemed against others.
“That’s what?”
“That’s not it. You misunderstood, Miss.”
A maid who suddenly became polite straightened her posture. The group of maids exchanged glances and prepared to retreat. Thanks to this, I put on a kind smile.
“And here I was about to thank you for leaving behind only what I truly needed. How did you know exactly what menu I was planning to make, preparing only dried grains and a small pot to make cooking easier for me? I almost expressed my gratitude to your mistress as well.”
I smiled broadly and added some teasing words while winking at the maids.
“But since you say you didn’t prepare this deliberately, that’s quite unfortunate. Right?”
***
Two table mats were laid before the Crown Prince. On each mat sat a soup—one from the chef and one from me.
The Crown Prince smiled happily and first smelled the food.
“Mmm. Truly worthy of a culinary family. The aroma is supreme, just as I expected.”
The Crown Prince led with praise, but his expression was somewhat displeased. The soups from the chef and me differed dramatically in appearance.
This country’s lifestyle resembled 17th century Europe. A culture where food reform had introduced modern eating habits, yet old customs hadn’t been abandoned.
The more intense the color and the more spices used, the more a dish was praised as supreme.
The chef’s soup perfectly satisfied this mindset.
It was ‘minestrone.’
A tomato soup red like the blazing sun. Topped with snowy Parmesan cheese and finely shredded aromatic green romaine lettuce.
The chef’s soup overwhelmed everything with its color. It seemed unlikely that anyone would surpass this dish in color for many years to come.
“Oh my, what shall we do? Though the comparison itself is embarrassing, I shall first explain why my daughter has presented this soup.”
At the Count’s signal, Eloise began speaking with elegant posture.
“The reason I’ve presented minestrone to Your Highness is this: First, for ordinariness. Minestrone is called a home-style soup. It’s a humble soup made by boiling various vegetables found in any household, with tomatoes added at the end for flavor.”
“Then what makes it special?”
“The bacon we boiled together with the vegetables.”
“Bacon? Are you saying this soup contains the precious bacon that even royal chefs use sparingly?”
“Yes. Moreover, it’s one-of-a-kind bacon made with our family’s special technique.”
“How was it made to be so special?”
“Ordinary bacon is smoked pork belly. But my late grandmother used pork cheek meat.”
“How much cheek meat can you get from one pig?”
“At most, only 4 ounces (100g) can be obtained. So how could it not be special?”
After hearing Eloise’s explanation, I found it somewhat amusing.
So her conclusion was to overwhelm with money? Is that all the specialness you can claim? Will that really work?
But that was just my hasty judgment.
Eloise was not someone to be underestimated.
“But Your Highness, the true specialness lies elsewhere.”
“What is it?”
“The wood used to smoke the bacon. Would you please look out the window?”
The Crown Prince turned his head toward the window. Outside stood a row of fresh apple trees.
“These are the apple trees that my grandmother, the former Countess, personally raised.”
“Personally raised?”
“Yes. My late grandmother often said this: People call me a master chef, but I am merely a mother. Apple trees are difficult to grow because they attract all kinds of insects, yet their fruit is incomparably luscious. I crush and kill the insects to obtain the fruit to feed my children. So I am not a chef worthy of everyone’s respect. I am merely a selfish mother who makes food only for her children.”
The Count and Countess sniffled. Whether these were tears of emotion or extracted tears, I couldn’t tell.
“When the trees grew old and could no longer bear apples, grandmother would burn them to smoke bacon. So this bacon is a special food deeply infused with grandmother’s love for her children.”
“Mother!”
The Count’s cry brought the tear party to its climax.
Eloise seemed confident of victory, and I too sensed defeat. The Crown Prince had lost his mother two years ago.
The Queen, revered for her virtue, had suddenly passed away. The Queen and the Crown Prince were said to have been an exceptionally close mother and son.
They say the Crown Prince still tears up at the mention of his mother.
- ianthe
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