Chapter 41

A small hand moved diligently, and every time it did, the feather attached to the quill pen fluttered.

Someone peeked over the little head engrossed in copying letters from a book and then swiftly pulled the paper away.

An ugly line was drawn across the neatly written letters.

“……”

Maron, who glanced at the culprit, blinked his eyes and then returned to writing from the blank spaces in the book.

This prank had been played several times already, yet he never said, “Stop it,” “Don’t do that,” or “I hate this.”

‘The child is too mature.’

Ever since he visited the Duke’s residence with Sevji, the child who sometimes came to play at the mansion was far too mature for his age.

Because of that, pranks were deliberately played on him, but not once had he shown any irritation.

Out of sheer boredom, the observer got up and locked onto the next target.

Despite being told not to, Karon, who found cleaning fun, was busy mopping every corner of the mansion. The observer approached him.

A young boy stood on a wide windowsill, wiping the glass with a dry cloth.

Watching the squeaky sound as the cloth cleaned the glass, the observer pressed a finger against the freshly cleaned surface.

A round, faintly white smudge was left on the perfectly clean window.

Karon, who glanced at the mark, stretched his hand out again to wipe it off.

Then, another mark was made. Karon wiped it off again. Another mark appeared. He wiped it off again. Another mark was made. He wiped it off again. Another mark was…

“Miss! Stop teasing the boy! If you’re bored, why don’t you go help the Duke instead of tormenting the poor child?”

Eventually, Kirin, who was passing through the hallway, scolded her.

The observer pouted.

This time was originally meant for swordsmanship training. However, Eched’s recuperation had ended, and he had left the Ducal residence a few days ago to return to work.

She had tried reading books, practicing swordsmanship alone, and even teaching the children, but nothing seemed particularly entertaining.

Since Eched had left the mansion, mysterious desserts had started appearing more frequently.

‘Are they being bought for the kids?’

Otherwise, there was no way this could be happening so suddenly.

Fortunately, the children enjoyed the desserts.

The leftover desserts, which were impossible to finish, became the share of Pell, Lutz, or the children, who occasionally visited the Ducal residence.

With a soft sound, Karon stabbed a fork into a cake and asked:

“But, Lady Shaterian.”

“Yes?”

“Are you unemployed?”

“……What? Who said that?”

“Uncle Pell did! He said that staying at home every day doing nothing is what unemployed people do.”

“No, no. I’m just taking a break from work because I was sick.”

‘Where’s my conscience?’

While wiping the whipped cream from Karon’s lips, she subtly probed further.

“And what else did Uncle Pell say?”

“He said that while even kids like us help with cleaning, Lady Shaterian, you don’t, and that we shouldn’t learn such habits.”

‘Pell, Pell…!’

That scoundrel dared to badmouth her behind her back.

She could almost see Pell’s sly face sticking his tongue out, floating in the air.

He must’ve wanted revenge because her recuperation period had dragged on.

She felt wronged.

Though she had been idling around (Pell had caught her lounging about several times) and obsessing over Rune (Rune: the author of <That Lady is Too Cool>, whose pretentiousness Pell had witnessed multiple times), that didn’t justify calling her unemployed, let alone a useless person worse than the children! (Though he hadn’t said that part.)

“You kids should play as much as you can while you’re young.”

She patted their heads, saying that when they grow up, they’ll have to study and clean even if they don’t want to, so there’s no need to do it now.

She gazed fondly at the chubby cheeks of the children, who had been eating well lately. But her vision kept blurring.

‘Yes. I knew it deep down. I also knew I had to go back to work soon.’

It was just that she didn’t want to. That’s why she had been avoiding it.

She looked wistfully at the setting sun in the sky.

Her sweet vacation was coming to an end.

***

To catch a tiger, one must enter the tiger’s den—or so the saying goes.

Jeff clutched the application form for a confectionery competition held once every five years.

The competition was fierce, with odds as high as 1,000:1.

The winner of the competition not only became the Imperial Palace pâtissier but also received the title of Baronet—a chance for social ascension.

Of course, Jeff’s goal wasn’t social ascension but to become the Imperial Palace pâtissier. All of it was for the sake of making desserts for Lady Shaterian.

He had poured himself into researching recipes, going without sleep.

He frequented the temple library, a place he had never visited before, as if it were his dining room, and practically lived in the kitchen.

And so, he completed it—the ultimate recipe so good that Lady Shaterian would die twice after eating it twice!

“Ahaha!”

A man with dark circles under his eyes and a shadow of a beard let out a hearty laugh in the middle of the crowd. The colorful ingredients in the cloth bag slung over one shoulder peeked out.

Sometimes, there were people like that. People who lost their minds preparing for the competition held every five years.

‘One less competitor.’

Geniuses, prodigies, and talents from all over the empire hurried along.

Even as they quickened their pace, they didn’t forget to remain vigilant, observing their surroundings sharply… though their shoulders bounced slightly with excitement.

Ahem. 

Clearing his throat, Jeff also regained his composure and quickened his pace.

However, Jeff overlooked one thing.

The purpose of the Imperial Palace pâtissier was to cater to banquets, distinguished guests, or state guests.

This meant that desserts leaving the Imperial Palace had to not only taste good but also be extravagant, sweet, and universally liked—something inoffensive.

In other words, the recipe Jeff created to suit Lady Shaterian’s dislike of sweet things was entirely unsuited for the Imperial Palace Confectionery Department.

Moreover, the theme of today’s confectionery competition was “Creating a Gorgeous Cake Using Five Types of Cream.”

Jeff, who hadn’t even considered making a regular cake, let alone using cream, had completely forgotten this fact in his excitement over inventing a new recipe.

Meanwhile, inside a passing carriage, Lady Shaterian wore a lethargic expression.

“I hate weekdays… I hate going to work… I hate people…”

Grumbling about why the streets were so crowded today, the carriage soon came to a stop.

“Lady Shaterian, carriages are prohibited from entering the capital today due to the confectionery competition hosted by the Imperial Palace.”

“Oh, really? Guess I’ll have to walk, then.”

‘I left on time, but the Imperial decree blocked my way.’

Emphasizing once again that her tardiness was legitimate, Lady Shaterian leisurely walked down the street.

The confectionery competition had a remarkable effect. The sweet and savory scents wafting through the air stimulated her appetite as she walked.

Adults and children alike gathered in front of the castle gates, creating a lively scene rarely seen outside of festival periods. She passed through the bustling square.

‘Maybe I should ask someone to get me some later.’

Desserts that had been judged were distributed to the citizens of the Empire—a gesture of the Emperor’s generosity.

As she thought of the children who loved sweets, she was about to pass by the garden fountain when—

“Waaaah…”

The sound of loud sobbing, contrasting sharply with the fountain’s gentle splashing, reached her ears. It was too loud to ignore.

Shaterian desperately wanted to ignore it. She tried to sneak away, but…

“Waaah! Waaah!”

The sobbing grew louder and more pitiful.

In front of the fountain sat a large man, slumped over.

Judging by the white coat he wore and the chef’s hat lying beside him, he appeared to be a participant who had failed in the competition.

She wanted to ignore him and go on her way, but unfortunately, their eyes met.

What terrible luck.

The man’s eyes widened. They were so swollen from crying that it seemed difficult for him to open them properly.

“What?”

As he continued to stare, Shaterian asked in an annoyed tone.

For a moment, she wondered if her personality had worsened, but she decided she didn’t care.

“Lady… Shaterian?”

Despite his puffy eyes, the man recognized her immediately.

“Yes, and? Do you have something to say to me?”

“Hic!”

Jeff had so much he wanted to say if he ever met the lady.

In truth, it was less about talking and more about venting—questions like why desserts had to be sweet and why she disliked sweet things in the first place.

But the indifferent gaze looking down at him was so intimidating that he couldn’t utter even a fraction of what he had prepared.

All he could do was shakily extend the dessert he had made and packaged at the competition.

One of Shaterian’s eyebrows arched slightly in curiosity.

“What is this?”

“It’s a dessert made by grinding rice into powder and shaping it like a cake…”

The more he explained, the more her expression turned peculiar. Jeff trailed off, unsure, but surprisingly, she urged him to explain further.

Feeling confused, Jeff stammered as he described the recipe in as much detail as possible.

“The pink comes from beetroot, the purple from blueberries, the orange from carrots, and the green from spinach.”

“And you layered it and steamed it in a pot…”

‘This is just rice cake.’

While familiar to the now reincarnated Shaterian, it was an entirely novel concept to the people of the empire—rice cake.

Making a cake from rice was innovative, but in the Kentri Empire, rice was not a mainstream ingredient, making it difficult to win a dessert competition.

The reason was simple: desserts were the domain of the wealthy, and rice flour had a coarser texture than wheat flour, making it less appealing.

Most importantly, the type of rice mattered. To make rice cakes, the rice needed to be of the Japonica variety, such as regular or glutinous rice.

The rice Jeff used lacked stickiness and was on the verge of crumbling apart.

“Why are you showing me this?”

“I want to create a dessert that satisfies you, Lady Shaterian!”

‘Why, though…?’

Shaterian was taken aback. A man she had never seen before wanted to make a dessert just for her?

After some thought, she decided to share her knowledge.

“To make this, you’ll need rice from the eastern continent, not the rice produced here in the empire.”

“Rice from the eastern continent?”

“Yes. The rice produced there is shorter and stickier, so it won’t crumble like this.”

“How do you know such things…?”

“Well… I have a bit of an interest in agriculture… Ahem, anyway. If you succeed, you must let me taste it first. That’s the price for the information.”

“Yes! Of course! I’ll never forget this kindness! Thank you so much, Lady Shaterian!”

Having found a lead, Jeff left with a much lighter heart.

‘I should’ve charged him for it.’

That thought briefly crossed her mind, but Jeff was already gone, brimming with excitement.