“What’s wrong with it?”

“Didn’t you say there was a lot? It still looks like a lot to me.”

“It’s not about the quantity, it’s about the variety. Look.”

As if to demonstrate just how light and simple the meal was, Mail started pointing at the dishes one by one, starting from the left.

“This is blanched tomato, this is ground tomato, this one’s mashed tomato, here’s marinated tomato, next to it is thinly sliced tomato, and this one…”

Rohayden recoiled.

“Why is it all tomatoes?”

“Tomatoes are great!”

“I don’t like them.”

His voice was unnecessarily firm in his denial. Mail tilted her head. Huh?

“Do you dislike tomatoes?”

“Just the sight of them makes me queasy.”

“Oh, wow. You really hate them, huh?”

The intensity of his expression was clear—he wasn’t being subtle at all.

Mail glanced back and forth between his face and the food before a mischievous grin crept onto her lips. So that’s how it is. Seizing the opportunity, her green eyes sparkled with the thrill of revenge.

“So, turns out you’re not master, but a master kid, huh?”

“What?”

“Our master kid doesn’t eat tomatoes at all, does he? Picky eating isn’t good for you, you know.”

Rohayden, who had always refused food he disliked without anyone daring to question him, froze at Mail’s teasing. He was the Emperor. No one had ever scolded him for not eating this or that. Mail was the first to do so.

It felt strange.

And for some reason, it also irritated him. Rohayden furrowed his brow in annoyance.

“Can’t a person just not eat something?”

“Oh dear, our master kid. Do you know how nutritious tomatoes are? It’s important to eat well and avoid being a picky eater to grow big and strong… although, you’re already plenty big. Anyway, tomatoes are packed with nutrients essential for health. Really, *a lot* of them.”

Mail, having seized the moment, was delighted. Revenge is sweet. Now she fully understood why Riela had been so gleeful when she took her revenge on Ormil. This feeling was pure satisfaction.

Rohayden’s brow furrowed even deeper.

“How childish.”

“Our master kid, calling people names for worrying about him being a picky eater? That’s not nice. Tsk tsk.”

Just a few hours ago, Mail had marveled at how spiteful Riela could be while mocking Ormil. Now, she realized her own talents weren’t far behind.

Rohayden found himself speechless, like a fish out of water, at how skillfully Mail was teasing him. It was infuriating. Losing one’s temper meant losing, but it was still infuriating.

Finally, in a fit of stubbornness, Rohayden suddenly reached for one of the plates.

“Huh?”

There was no time to stop him. He grabbed the largest piece of tomato from the plate and stuffed it into his mouth. Mail’s eyes widened. Oh my.

“I…”

He’d eaten it. He’d swallowed it. He was about to say, “There, happy?” But Rohayden couldn’t finish that final step. The taste and scent of the tomato he had barely chewed rose up, cutting him off. His face, hidden behind his mask, turned pale. Ugh.

As Mail stared in astonishment, she quickly poured a cup of water and rushed toward him.

“Drink this.”

“I’m fine…”

“You’re clearly not. Hurry up.”

Mail was right. As she said, he wasn’t fine. Though he tried to refuse once, the discomfort was too much to reject a second time, so Rohayden eventually took the water she offered and drank it. His complexion only returned to normal after he downed three glasses in a row.

“…”

Having calmed down, Rohayden remained silent, like a cat caught with its tongue tied. Embarrassment washed over him like a tidal wave.

Shouldn’t have let my pride get in the way. Regret always comes too late. He thought, at least it was fortunate he had a mask to hide behind.

Mail clicked her tongue.

“Why did you force yourself to eat it?”

When she chided him, his disgruntled gaze shot straight at her. The meaning behind his glare was so clear that Mail let out a small cough. Well, she had been a little over the top with the teasing.

“I’m sorry for teasing you, master. The whole ‘picky eating’ thing was just a joke. Having one or two foods you can’t eat, that’s no big deal, right? It’s even more charming to have something you can’t stand—it makes you more human.”

She made sure her tone sounded sincere, but it was already too late. His lips remained sealed. Seeing his unchanging, unmoving demeanor, Mail clicked her tongue again. If she had known, maybe she wouldn’t have teased him so much. Now, she wondered what she could say to make it better. After a brief pause, she tried speaking again.

“Master, do you like eggplants?”

“…”

“I can’t eat them. Just the sight of an eggplant dish makes me sick.”

Rohayden reacted. It worked. Mail wasted no time continuing her story.

“When I was really young, I once accidentally ate an eggplant I found outside. It was probably during a family trip to the woods to see some animals. Do you know that raw eggplants are poisonous?”

Mail calmly recalled her past, piecing together a memory that had already passed more than ten years ago. It was a story from when she was very small. Rohayden, having forgotten his earlier sulk, listened quietly.

“The poison wasn’t strong. If an adult had eaten it, they’d probably just have had a mild stomachache for a while. But I was so young, still at an age when I could count my years on one hand. Not knowing any better, I ate a whole wild eggplant and ended up really sick. Now that I think about it, I have no idea why I even ate it. It probably didn’t even taste good.”

“…”

“I spent the whole day curled up with a stomachache, and the next day, I could only eat porridge. That memory must’ve been pretty intense because since then, I haven’t been able to even touch an eggplant. I don’t have any allergies or anything, so eating it won’t make me collapse. But if I know it’s eggplant, I just can’t help but spit it out. Even if I force myself to swallow it, I have to rinse my mouth with water afterward. I think I’ll probably avoid eggplants for the rest of my life.”

“…”

“How did you come to dislike tomatoes, master?”

Mail’s question flowed naturally, as if following the rhythm of the conversation. Rohayden, who had forgotten his irritation while listening to the story, answered quietly.

“I’m not sure… I think something happened when I was a child. Maybe when I was around seven.”

“Oh, we have something in common! Maybe it’s because we’re master and junior.”

Mail grinned broadly, showing her teeth. People tend to feel a sense of camaraderie after sharing even small personal stories, and that bond usually leads to a sense of closeness.

With a smile, Mail added, “Doesn’t it feel like we’ve gotten a little closer now? Not just as master and junior.” Rohayden nodded slightly in agreement. It does seem that way.

“When we eat together, we won’t have to worry about being picky. If tomatoes come out, I’ll eat them, and if eggplants appear, you can take them. Right?”

No food wasted, making the world a greener place. Mail kept her infectious smile. Rohayden stared at her for a moment before speaking impulsively, almost without realizing it.

“Next time we meet…”

“Yes?”

“I’ll tell you my name.”

His own words seemed to surprise him.

‘What did I just say?’

That wasn’t planned. Unaware of the chaos hidden behind his mask, Mail blinked in surprise and then tilted her head.

“You’re feeling especially generous today, aren’t you? Throwing in an extra question earlier and now promising to tell me your name next time.”

“…There are days like that.”

“I’d be happy to hear it when you do. Oh, and don’t worry, even if it’s a funny name, I won’t laugh. Since we’re closer now, I’ll show you that kind of respect.”

With that, Mail finally picked up the utensils she had set down earlier, deciding it was time to eat. She hadn’t been all that hungry when they first entered the garden, but after chatting, she suddenly felt quite famished.

Unfolding a napkin and holding a fork and knife, she was just about to ask, “I’m about to eat. What about you, master?” when a commotion erupted outside.

“An intruder! Catch them!”

“Huh?”