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CHAPTER 11…………………………….
The nobles of the Empire detested nothing more than getting their hands dirty, but what they despised most of all was street vending, which was little different from begging.
Even if one had been disowned by their family and reduced to commoner status, it was still not something a former noble lady should ever be doing.
“Tutoring, perhaps… There must have been quite a few things Lady Adelheid could have done. Thinking about it, maybe she was quite confident in her cooking?”
“If she had proper education, she would have been able to tutor, wouldn’t she?”
Laughter erupted.
Lady Adelheid Seaton’s lack of refinement had already been a rather entertaining topic of gossip in high society even before she was cast out of her family.
“I’m sure the food is just as terrible. We should be grateful if it’s even edible without being thrown away.”
Once again, laughter echoed through the banquet hall.
The viscount’s daughter, Sizh, did not look pleased. Perhaps it was because Macwood had reminded her that this banquet would likely be insignificant.
Just as Macwood, looking satisfied, was about to mock Adelheid further, the appetizers were served.
Expecting to ridicule some plain and unremarkable dish, Macwood lowered his gaze to the table.
“…?”
His eyebrows furrowed.
Whatever he—and everyone else present—had expected, it was not this.
Could this even be called food?
“Cucumber… pickles?”
A stunned voice escaped the lips of Viscount Sizh’s daughter.
Macwood burst into laughter.
“Cucumber pickles, ground bean powder, and dried figs! Truly Lady Adelheid through and through.”
“I have no idea what she was thinking.”
The young baron sitting beside him agreed.
“No matter how bad a cook she is, to serve something like this…”
“If she doesn’t even know proper etiquette, how would she know what to serve at an imperial banquet?”
Macwood stabbed a piece of cucumber with his fork.
“It’s not even properly pickled—it’s practically raw…”
To mock it further, he shoved the entire piece into his mouth.
“…!”
He flinched violently.
It was not the taste of raw cucumber he had expected.
Refreshing, tangy, sweet and sour… with a slight spicy kick at the end.
“Lemon? A bit of vinegar… and chili?”
Crunch.
Crunch, crunch.
Macwood realized with shock that he had been continuously eating the pickled cucumbers without stopping.
He was a gourmet.
He was not some fool who would be enchanted by the food of a former count’s daughter turned street vendor!
Perhaps it had just been luck with the cucumber pickles.
But what about these dried figs and that unidentified clump of ground bean powder?
Shaking his head, he pressed the bean powder clump with his fork.
“What is this?”
It was not simply a lump of bean powder.
The powder was merely coating the surface of a translucent, chewy mass beneath it.
After staring at it for a moment, Macwood put it in his mouth.
“Hm.”
He tried to hold it back, but a sound of admiration escaped.
The chewy, springy texture wrapped in savory bean powder slid smoothly down his throat.
Voices asking what the dish was filled the surroundings, but no one had an answer.
Macwood no longer even thought about Adelheid as he moved on to the dried fig.
“…!”
If the pickled cucumber was refreshing crunchiness, and the bean powder dish was soft, savory chewiness, the dried fig provided a burst of joy that popped in his mouth.
Sweet fig aroma filled his senses.
He could not deny it. It was a perfect appetizer.
Shortly after.
As the main dish arrived, an explanation was finally given.
“Royal chicken soup.”
Royal!
At that word, everyone was shocked.
Anything labeled “Royal” meant the highest honor for the chef who created it.
The attendants lifted the silver lid covering the dish.
At that moment, the entire banquet hall fell into chaos.
It was a form of dish no one had ever seen before.
A whole chicken was submerged in a creamy white soup.
“…Have they lost their minds?”
After a moment of hesitation, Macwood picked up his fork and knife and carefully tore off a piece of meat, bringing it to his mouth.
“…Hah.”
The moist, tender chicken soaked in rich soup seemed to dance in his mouth.
At that point, he no longer even cared about the pride he had taken in mocking Adelheid.
The Royal chicken soup disappeared entirely into his stomach—no meat, no broth left behind.
The dessert that followed was no different.
After scraping every drop of syrup from layered crepes served with peach compote, Macwood finally regained his senses.
“…?”
He looked around in confusion.
Everyone at the table was staring at him.
“What is it?”
“…Pffft… kuhuhu…”
Macwood looked around for someone who might be mocking him, but failed.
Laughter erupted from all directions.
Even Viscount Sizh’s daughter was among them.
Covering her mouth elegantly with one hand, she laughed.
“You were criticizing the banquet so much, yet you were eating like a pig.”
The color drained from Macwood’s face.
“…Lady Sizh.”
“Oh my, am I wrong?”
She showed no sign of being shaken.
Even the young baron beside him sided with her.
“There’s nothing more accurate than the eyes of young ladies.”
Macwood realized there was not a single ally at the table.
Covering his flushed face, he stood up and quickly left the banquet hall, the sound of ridicule following him.
‘It’s all Adelheid Seaton’s fault!’
He ground his teeth.
Like Ilai, he never forgot humiliation.
‘I will make sure she is expelled from the Imperial Court.’
The banquet ended in great success.
“Everyone was in awe. They said they had never seen such dishes before, and asked how they could taste so perfect.”
“Even His Majesty praised you so much… I’m ashamed that I ever doubted Lady Heidi.”
I simply smiled quietly in response to the endless praise from the imperial chefs.
I hadn’t gone to the banquet hall since I stayed behind in the kitchen to oversee the desserts, but the other chefs kept reporting the atmosphere.
And all of it was positive.
“The nobles won’t be able to look down on you anymore, Lady Heidi. You’re His Majesty’s favorite chef!”
“Lady Heidi, do you have time this weekend? I’d love to hear how you made the Royal chicken soup…”
“Me too!”
“You lot… Lady Heidi should rest this weekend. But could you spare a little time tomorrow evening?”
My mouth kept curling upward.
At first, the imperial chefs had followed my instructions, but many of them had been wary of me.
Now it was different.
They all seemed desperate to learn from me.
Of course, I had no intention of sharing my secrets so easily.
“I’m just grateful you think so highly of my lacking skills.”
This was how you played the game.
“You call that lacking skills?”
The chef closest to me shouted.
“It’s been ten years since I joined the palace, and I’ve never seen a banquet like today’s!”
“And ‘Royal’!”
another chef chimed in.
“If I ever created a dish worthy of that title… I’d die without regret!”
“So Lady Heidi, please tell us how you came up with those recipes! We’ll consider you our lifelong benefactor!”
I put on my most innocent expression.
“I just studied carefully how each ingredient pairs with different cooking methods.”
At times like this, textbook answers were best.
Something like: I just studied hard according to the basics.
Next…
