In any case, Marilyn pulled herself together and returned to being a compliant, dutiful companion…… or rather, not a slave, and asked politely.

“Miss, are you very angry?”

The lady’s breathing had evened out and she was no longer huffing, but she still looked at Marilyn like she wanted to grab someone by the throat. The thought that she needed to do something fast hit her like a blow. She couldn’t bring herself to hand the lady a fork, so she picked one up herself, and glancing at the table, she saw that nearly a third of the food was already in disarray.

The realization that the lady would now have to eat food Marilyn had left half-finished sent a cold sweat down her back. She was in no position to call for fresh dishes or have the table cleared.

She was still turning the problem over in her head when the lady broke into a slow, spinning smile. Never a good sign.

“What are you talking about? Anyone listening would think I fly into a temper over nothing. I’m really not the sort of person who can’t control their emotions.”

“Yes…… you’re right. I’m sorry, Miss……”

“Oh, my friend. I told you that groveling turns my stomach, didn’t I? I suppose you’re thinking I’m some kind of lunatic, going back and forth like this?”

She’d never stopped to consider whether she was smart or dim, but she knew for certain that agreeing with this would be the dim choice. Yet since even an apology was off the table, all she could do was sweat through her shirt and open and close her mouth uselessly.

“You look stupid. Keep your mouth shut. Is that mouth only good for eating on its own? At least you’re good at something.”

“Yes, Miss……”

“What are you doing? Why aren’t you doing the one thing you’re good at?”

Her stomach was already fairly full, but she started eating again as instructed.

Her tongue was still sweet from the gingerbread she’d eaten off the floor, so she took a few spoonfuls of clear onion soup to cleanse her palate, then chewed through a salad of tomatoes, sugar, and carrots. The tartness with its quiet sweetness brought her appetite back around.

She wasn’t sure this was really how she was supposed to be eating, so she glanced over at the lady, who gestured with her eyes toward the remaining dishes as if to say go on.

She reached out again and put a piece of cod in cream sauce into her mouth. It was rich and savory with a deep umami flavor, the kind of thing she could happily spend an eternity chewing if it were possible.

After swallowing the cod with some reluctance, she dipped boiled asparagus into a sauce made from egg yolk. Earlier, when the lady had been feeding her, she’d eaten without comment even when it was slightly bland, though it had still been delicious, but dipped in the sauce it was so good she couldn’t tell if she was eating a vegetable or meat.

Was that why it cost more than meat? She’d harvested asparagus before but never eaten it, so the experience felt genuinely moving. The vegetables she usually put in her mouth were potatoes, lily root, and cabbage, and even those were stretched with water and boiled into soup.

Next she tried to eat a small bird braised in wine with spices, but she felt awkward using the knife. The plate holding the bird dish had an antique landscape painted on it that looked so valuable she felt she had no business touching it.

She was about to go back to finishing her soup when the lady, catching the hesitation with sharp eyes, cut the bird into bite-sized pieces with an elegant motion. Then she pushed the plate toward her with an expression that seemed to say don’t worry, I’m not going to feed you again, and Marilyn put a piece in her mouth with a slightly sheepish look. It was very good, though by now she was getting quite full.

Still, who knew when she’d see a spread like this again, so she kept eating until she felt a fair amount of pressure in her stomach. The top button of her trousers had already been quietly undone while the lady wasn’t looking. The fullness brought happiness with it, and her mouth relaxed into a natural smile.

She was chewing honey-preserved figs that had come as dessert when she noticed the table still held enough meat, pie, and fruit for at least three more people. Several plates hadn’t been touched at all, which was a shame, but she wasn’t the type to covet food she couldn’t fit in her body, so she was about to end the meal on a satisfied note when the lady, watching her, began cutting a pie from a fresh plate into small pieces. Was she finally going to eat her own meal?

The cut face of the still-warm pie oozed savory juices, but with her stomach this full, the smell of the fat made her feel faintly queasy. She reached for orange juice to settle herself, and the pie plate slid toward her. She looked up in confusion and found the lady smiling that slow smile, stacking the empty plates to one side and pushing all the plates with food left on them toward her.

“Miss……?”

“Eat.”

“Thank you, but I’m completely full now.”

“I said eat.”

“Pardon?”

Only then did she understand the lady wasn’t offering food out of goodwill. She was ordering her to eat everything on the table. The food had been enough for five or six people from the start, and she’d barely managed to get through half of it.

She had to eat as much again as she’d already eaten……

It was clearly punishment for refusing to be fed, but it was hard to make sense of. Nobility were supposed to receive service, not give it…… Or was this precisely the kind of noble whim and petulance that explained her behavior? Having never seen a noble before the lady, let alone been near one, she had no way of knowing. It felt like something she’d never understand.

Even as she deliberated, the lady was slicing bread to feed her. The scraping sound made her skin crawl.

She picked up a piece of pie with a reluctant hand and chewed. The grease sat heavy on her tongue and refused to go down, so she had to take a sip of juice with every bite. The greasy, salty meat flavor and the tart juice collided in her mouth and it was horrible. She’d never known she was capable of finding food horrible while eating it.

The next plate, the salad, was at least manageable. Greens went down on their own without much chewing. The bread the lady had helpfully sliced thin and neat, she dumped entirely into the soup and mashed it together. The clear, pale broth turned into something resembling oat porridge in an instant, but this wasn’t a moment for taste or presentation.

She took one spoonful and her stomach lurched. Her body seemed to be rejecting what was several times her usual intake. The sensation of food packed all the way up to the base of her throat made cold sweat break out not just on her back but across her forehead, and a headache began to build.

She genuinely couldn’t lift the spoon anymore.

She’d get scolded…… but it wasn’t as if being scolded was new, and she truly couldn’t eat another bite…… Besides, even when the lady pushed like this, she’d always only gone as far as she could and ended up just being irritated in the end……

She opened her mouth to say she really couldn’t eat any more, and a wretched sound came out with a dry heave. She clapped her hand over her mouth and lurched toward the door, but a rough force shoved her back down. In that brief moment, the lady had lunged to catch her.

The lady kept her grip on the back of her neck and walked her to the silk chair in front of the table and pushed her into it. The impact alone nearly made her sick, but the lady pressed down on the back of her neck without any apparent concern.

“Eat.”

Food with a rancid, nauseating smell piled in front of her, food she’d forced herself to chew crammed all the way up her throat, and the lady crushing the back of her neck like she meant to pop it……

Uugh……!

She finally rolled off the chair and onto the floor, straining with everything she had not to vomit, dry heaving over and over. She could feel the lady watching her curl up desperately, tears streaming down her face, fighting to control her own rebelling stomach.

“Like a pig.”

Looking up at the embroidered silk shoes from the floor, the same as on the first day, she felt a strange sense of déjà vu. The difference from that day was that today, tears were running down her face exactly as the lady had wanted. Whether it was from the physical pain or the undisguised contempt in that voice, she couldn’t say.

In the end, she made it out of the room with the help of Eva and a maid whose face she recognized but whose name she didn’t know. The brief glimpse she caught of the lady’s face through her blurring vision was unexpectedly not pleased at all, which struck her as a little strange.