* * *
When rumors grow, so do expectations.
If his face were eventually revealed at a royal social event, some might be disappointed after the rumors spiraled out of control.
‘But no one would dare say he didn’t live up to their wild imaginations.’
Though his attitude could be irritating, his looks were flawless.
Just as I had predicted, everyone was clamoring to paint him.
In fact, they were willing to sign contracts for fees so low they practically ignored their reputations.
All of them walked away with signed agreements.
“Why are we even doing this?” Hernan asked, clearly unable to comprehend.
I chuckled dismissively.
“Some preparation is always useful before important occasions.”
Naturally, the guests attending the banquet a week from now would hear about today’s commotion.
People who loved gossip as much as they did would make sure of it.
They might have already asked around about the beautiful Grand Duke of the rumors, but the more they heard, the more desperate they’d be to see him in person.
If the vicious rumors about him faded away and were replaced by curiosity—how handsome could he really be?—then my plan would have succeeded.
‘Watching him sulk like this… well, I don’t mind it.’
It would be a bit of a struggle for him to sit still as a model for the painting.
But that was his problem to deal with.
My concern was something else entirely.
“One week from now. You must serve a meal that rivals anything the Imperial Palace has to offer.”
The kitchen at Yudenet Castle was as vast as its imposing size.
With so many soldiers stationed here, it made sense.
But the kitchen that served the castle’s residents and guests was separate from the one for the troops.
‘It could probably handle 200 guests, at least.’
Approaching one of the massive cauldrons—fit for a large-scale cafeteria or industrial kitchen back in Korea—I noticed it was covered in reddish rust.
“When was this last used?”
I brushed the rusty powder from my fingertips as I asked.
The head chef, who had the typical look of a middle-aged man from the North, replied.
“It hasn’t been used once since I arrived.”
“…”
Well, that made sense.
Velon hadn’t hosted any guests since the previous Grand Duke’s time, so there hadn’t been any large gatherings here for at least 30 years.
Wait—so how did they handle the succession ceremony?
I quickly asked, struck by the thought.
“There were no guests.”
“Hm?”
I asked again, thinking I might have misheard, but his answer remained the same.
“I’ll be clear. Since I started working at Yudenet Castle, you, my lord, are the first person we’ve officially hosted.”
In other words, if I ordered the chef to prepare a feast without giving him specific guidance, there was no telling what disaster might unfold.
What’s the point of having vast land and wealth if you don’t put it to good use?
At least the head chef was skilled enough that, as long as he had the right ingredients and recipes, he could prepare anything with expertise.
‘How did such a talented chef end up here?’
The answer was simple.
The previous Grand Duke was not only notoriously brutal, but also had such a picky palate that he would behead any chef who served him unsatisfactory food.
“He actually beheaded them?”
“Yes. So, I had no time to hesitate before moving my family into the castle.”
No wonder the servants here were so disciplined despite Hernan being away for so long.
With a former master like that, they probably Viscounted their blessings just to have a less demanding one now.
By the way, what does Hernan even like to eat?
He didn’t seem particularly picky or like someone who ate small portions.
Since arriving at Yudenet Castle, most of the meals served had been Southern dishes, adapted to Northern tastes.
Despite my own refined palate, he had gone out of his way to ensure I wasn’t stuck forcing down food I didn’t enjoy.
‘Not that I ever asked him to do that…’
It’s not like I feel particularly grateful for the excessive kindness you’re freely offering.
But for some reason, it bothers me that Hernan knows everything about what I like, while I know nothing about him.
You mentioned you were out on the front lines for quite some time, hunting down monsters descending from the frozen northern lands.
Sure, in that kind of situation, you’d probably be thankful just to have some stew made from half-boiled tree roots with a dash of salt.
But I’m asking about what you actually like to eat, not just what you can eat.
‘But why should I even care about that?’
I guess I’ve got too much time on my hands.
To shake off the nagging feeling, like a hangnail irritating me, I asked bluntly.
“What kind of food is usually served here, aside from those southern-influenced dishes?”
Sometimes it’s better to just taste things directly rather than asking a hundred questions.
The chef promptly grilled a thick cut of meat and served it with a soup rich with potatoes and cream.
The bread was rustic, but miles better than what I had eaten at the Harptis estate.
“Hm…”
The flavor was a bit more bland compared to southern cuisine, but the meat was perfectly tender, despite being thoroughly cooked.
I heard it was because the fat inside the meat becomes richer to survive the harsh winters of Velon.
I mentally started planning out a dinner course.
It’d be better to serve meat as the main dish rather than fish.
“Do you have any fish dishes? Preferably made with local ingredients.”
The chef soon brought out some fish preserved from the frozen river.
It was a northern dish, mild without heavy use of spices, yet tangy enough to freshen up the palate.
It would be perfect served with a salad as an entrée.
“I’d like a warm fish dish as well.”
Immediately, the chef prepared a steamed perch, tender and lightly coated in a buttery broth.
“…!”
The moment I scooped up the broth along with the fish and tasted it, the richness I’d felt settled, and I was amazed.
How could something with a butter base taste so refreshing?
“It’s delicious!”
As I devoured the dish, the chef’s eyes glistened as though he were about to cry.
“Ah! I can make more, anything you’d like!”
I remembered hearing that the previous duke had extremely picky tastes and only ate meat.
His son, who inherited the position, was indifferent to everything, so it must’ve been quite a joyless experience for the chef to cook for him.
It was clear how excited he was now to finally serve someone who could appreciate his food.
“Let’s think of some amuse-bouche to start the course.”
After spending a full day in the kitchen, we decided on mini pies made from freshwater clams, crispy fried potatoes with special sauce, and crab fritters topped with cream cheese.
By the time I left the kitchen around nine, after eating and sampling dishes all day, my entire body smelled like food.
“Chirp?”
Pori, who had somehow climbed onto my shoulder, sniffed me with its small, damp nose.
“You can’t eat any of this.”
Dried fruits aren’t the best for squirrels, and salted meat would be even worse.
While lightly tapping its soft, round cheeks with my fingers, I started heading back to my room.
In the distance, I spotted someone approaching.
It was Hernan, likely coming to check whether I was ready for bed by nine o’clock.
‘Huh.’
I instinctively hid behind the corner but immediately wondered why I did that.
It wasn’t even nine yet, so it was fine. I’ll just act like we bumped into each other by chance.
As I peeked around the corner to appear more natural, I caught a glimpse of Hernan’s exhausted face.
‘What the…?’
Normally, even after going through much worse, he’d still have his usual shiny, polished expression.
Curious, I stepped out from behind the corner and called out.
“What are you doing over there?”
Even though I knew why he was here, I couldn’t help but ask in an annoyed tone, like I was picking a fight.
Hernan’s face immediately brightened, as if the exhaustion had never existed.
“I was coming to see you, as always, my lord.”
With the hallway lamp casting a slanted shadow behind him, Hernan’s lips curled into a soft smile.
“I’ll be heading to bed soon. You can wait anywhere you like.”
Smelling like food from head to toe, I walked past Hernan and opened the door to my room.
I had taken a quick bath earlier before dinner, so I only needed to wash my face and hands with the water Hawthorn had prepared.
After that, I quickly changed into pajamas behind the partition and stepped back out.
Hernan, now leaning against the wall, greeted me with a smile.
* * *
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oh MC is ML’s battery
Thanks