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Chapter 6
The scenery of the ducal estate was overwhelming—calling it overwhelming didn’t even feel sufficient.
Lavishly carved marble pillars and endlessly stretching, meticulously maintained gardens.
The family had always been wealthy, but the rumors that the current duke had inherited the house and tripled its fortune didn’t seem exaggerated at all.
After leaving the carriage arrangements to Lucan, Cain took Luciella and headed straight for the ducal kitchen.
The moment she stepped inside, Luciella gasped.
It was three or four times larger and grander than the kitchen at Lord Nor’s castle.
The counters gleamed white and polished without a trace of grime, and rows of neatly arranged silver utensils sparkled under the light. Even though it wasn’t mealtime, dozens of cooks moved in perfect order preparing ingredients.
Despite her fear, Luciella felt a tiny spark of excitement.
After seeing nothing but Nigel’s dirty, neglected kitchen, this place looked like heaven for a cook.
As the two entered, dozens of eyes turned toward them at once.
Ignoring all the attention, Cain looked at Luciella and asked briefly,
“Can you start cooking immediately? Something like the castella from before, or those potatoes…”
“Sir Cain.”
At that moment, a middle-aged man with wavy brown hair stepped in front of them.
A luxurious chef’s uniform decorated with silver buttons covered him, and on his chest was an ornate badge indicating he was the deputy head chef.
“What brings you here?”
He spoke.
“And this filthy— no, this child. Who is she?”
The deputy chef narrowed his eyes. Behind him, three or four cooks folded their arms and openly looked Luciella up and down.
“I’m borrowing one workstation. No special preparations are necessary.”
Cain answered shortly, but the deputy chef didn’t move.
“My apologies, but did you receive Lord Osburn’s permission to use the kitchen?”
“No.”
“Then that will be difficult. The ducal kitchen is a place for verified chefs. A dirty little child like this…”
“I verified her.”
“You did?”
The deputy chef frowned openly.
“That’s right.”
“I’m sorry, but I cannot accept that.”
Cain paused and stared at him. His expression barely changed.
“With respect, Sir Cain, you are not an expert. If she had passed my inspection as deputy chef, that would be another matter.”
Despite shrinking slightly under Cain’s sharp gaze, the man refused to back down.
His dissatisfied eyes moved between Cain and Luciella.
It seemed unpleasant enough to acknowledge Cain’s authority—but allowing someone as shabby-looking as Luciella into the ducal kitchen appeared even more offensive to him.
“If you need food prepared, simply tell us. But I cannot permit this child to use the kitchen however she likes.”
“Your name was Jerome, wasn’t it?”
Cain looked at the deputy chef with an indifferent expression and spoke quietly.
“Are you trying to stop me? Choose your words carefully.”
Perhaps because the question was so direct—or because of the threatening undertone hidden in Cain’s calm voice—
Jerome’s eyes wavered.
“To say I’m stopping you is a bit harsh.”
“Then?”
“As you know, while the Duke is absent, Lord Osburn—the second son—manages all household affairs. Without his permission, opening the kitchen to you is difficult.”
“My brother Devron and my sister Melina have brought people into the kitchen before. Do you stop them as well?”
Color drained from Jerome’s face.
“That is…”
“The children, including Theo, come in and out of the kitchen for snacks whenever they like. Do you tell them to obtain Brother Osburn’s permission?”
Jerome bit his lip awkwardly before lifting his chin again.
“The members of the ducal family naturally use it freely. But Sir Cain… you are not a direct descendant.”
He said each word clearly.
“Even if you’ve received a barony, that does not make you master of this estate. As an employee of the ducal household, I naturally must…”
“I understand the situation.”
Cain let out a faint laugh as if he had expected this.
“So Brother Osburn trained you this way.”
His voice remained flat.
“To treat me like an outsider. To interfere little by little no matter what I do. That way I’ll feel uncomfortable and stop visiting.”
“….”
It seemed Cain had struck the truth directly.
Jerome’s complexion became even paler.
Luciella watched nervously.
She had expected some tension because of Cain’s unusual position in the family—
but she never imagined even the kitchen staff would stand against him.
—
“Osburn Bellaon, the duke’s second son, is rotten to the core. He has low self-esteem, gets offended easily, and takes petty revenge. I hope our Lucy never has to meet him…”
—
Her mother’s old words surfaced in her mind.
Maybe she understood the situation a little now.
Cain stared at Jerome for several seconds before letting out a small sigh.
“You must have your circumstances.”
“….”
“But I have no reason to tolerate them.”
Shing—
Something silver flashed.
Before Jerome even realized what was happening—
a cold, gleaming blade stopped near his throat.
Jerome’s face turned white.
“S-Sir Cain! How could you draw a sword in the kitchen…?!”
“You make an impressive number of rules.”
Cain’s voice remained level.
“Now you intend to decide where I may and may not draw my sword.”
Then he said:
“Move aside. That is an order.”
At Cain’s declaration, the atmosphere in the kitchen froze.
“The master of this estate is the Duke—not Brother Osburn. You all know that preventing me is not the Duke’s will.”
No one answered.
“Anyone who opposes the master’s wishes has no right to remain here.”
His eyes stayed calm.
“For convenience, I’ll handle the punishment myself.”
“…!”
“You’re still not moving.”
He looked at Jerome.
“Then I’ll cut you down.”
“Ugh…”
Jerome froze in place.
The weight behind Cain’s command was completely different from Osburn’s or the head chef’s authority.
It wasn’t simply fear of seeing a sword.
The murderous pressure clinging to the blade made it feel like his whole body was being crushed.
Jerome trembled—
when suddenly someone tugged on Cain’s sleeve from behind.
“…Wait.”
A tiny figure stepped forward.
Small frame.
Messy but bright blond hair.
Shining green eyes.
It was Luciella.
Everyone’s gaze turned toward the little girl.
“So…”
She hesitated before speaking.
“You don’t trust Baron Cain’s judgment about me, right?”
“Y-Yes.”
Jerome answered immediately, relieved for the interruption.
“The kitchen is sacred. If we trust someone’s unproven skill and let anyone in, ingredients may be ruined, or…”
“Then test me right now.”
“…What?”
Jerome blinked.
“Think of it as an examination instead of cooking.”
Luciella pointed at the workstation.
“I’ll make soup. Right here.”
“That…”
Luciella glanced up at Cain.
If he had dragged her directly here, then the patient’s condition must be urgent.
Arguing over qualifications was pointless.
What mattered was making buffed food immediately.
Drawing swords and cleaning up the aftermath would waste even more time.
Whether they approved of her afterward wasn’t important.
If they needed another dish later, she would think about it then.
Most importantly—
she had to avoid becoming useless in the baron’s eyes and dying for nothing.
If she died here—
Mom might never even find her body.
Jerome swallowed dryly and nodded repeatedly.
“F-Fine.”
He had no intention of dying to Cain’s sword today.
It wasn’t that he truly wanted conflict.
He had only feared being punished later by Osburn—or the head chef after returning—and he disliked the idea of a ragged child dirtying the kitchen.
But if it was framed as a test—
there was no reason to refuse.
In fact, if her cooking turned out terrible—
it would become the perfect excuse to ban her from the kitchen forever.
“We’ll conduct the test.”
Jerome straightened himself and stepped aside.
“If this child makes something unacceptable, Sir Cain must withdraw as well.”
As Jerome opened the way, Cain sheathed his sword and gave Luciella a slight nod.
“The menu doesn’t matter.”
He looked at her quietly.
“Cook.”
“If the result meets my expectations, your reward will overflow.”
At last receiving permission—
Luciella walked toward the workstation.
