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Chapter : 08
“Even If I’m an Extra, I’d Rather Avoid the Death Route” (8)
Life where I originally lived wasn’t all that comfortable either.
After the mother who had raised me on her own passed away, I scraped by while moving from one relative’s house to another.
I jumped straight into work after graduating high school, and of course the money I earned wasn’t much.
It was just a tiny one-room apartment where I could barely lie down, but even so, my mind was at ease.
After all, I didn’t have to worry about anyone else’s mood.
When I was little, whenever my mom had a day off, we would always make desserts together.
At those moments, I felt as if I owned the entire world.
My mother’s smiling face, the desserts we made with clumsy hands—
Everything was happiness.
Naturally, my dream became to be a pâtissier, and though it was a small shop, I achieved that dream.
Mom would like this if she saw it.
When I told her I wanted to become a pâtissier, she smiled brightly.
She said I should do what I wanted to do.
“What I want to do…”
Falling into the world of a novel wasn’t my choice.
I enjoyed reading novels, but I’d never once thought I wanted to enter one or become the protagonist.
I only watched people living lives different from mine and vicariously satisfied emotions I’d never felt.
Why did it have to be me?
I don’t know what the book wants, but once I get closer to the ending, I’ll find out.
For now, my goal is simple: reduce the probability of dying as much as possible before the ending.
That’s what I decided my job was.
After dinner.
Serena was already in the kitchen, her face beaming.
“You came early?”
At my question, Serena clasped her hands together and answered,
“I was too excited. Carrot cake—I’ve never even heard of it.”
“I’ll do my best to live up to your expectations.”
I bent my upper body slightly, placing one hand over my chest like a gentleman.
Watching Serena laugh out loud, I felt strangely emotional.
These days, she was so friendly it was hard to believe she was the same person who had glared sharply at me when we first met.
Well, good is good.
“Shall we start making it?”
“Wow!”
Serena let out a short exclamation.
I’d been a little worried, but fortunately the results were satisfying.
The aroma rising from the carrot cake topped with cream cheese lifted my spirits.
The macarons we made together were smooth and flawless, without a single crack.
“This is amazing. The carrot cake and… what was this called again? Ma—”
“Macaron.”
“Right, macaron. They’re so pretty, like little toys. Irenia, you’re really amazing.”
Her praise made my shoulders puff up with pride.
The visuals passed—now it was time to taste.
“Shall we try it?”
“Yeah!”
I cut the smallest carrot cake in half and placed it on a plate.
One piece went to Serena, the other to me.
With a fluttering heart, I picked up a fork, cut off a corner, and brought it to my mouth.
“Mmm.”
Success.
The earthy smell unique to carrots was gone, replaced by natural sweetness and the soft richness of cream cheese.
As I savored the flavor, I suddenly realized Serena hadn’t reacted yet.
“Serena, what do you think?”
I asked cautiously, covering my mouth with one hand as Serena stood there blankly.
She stared at me with wide eyes for a moment, then slowly spoke.
“Irenia…”
Her odd reaction made me worry that it didn’t suit the local palate.
“…Is it bad?”
She shook her head rapidly.
“No, no! It’s reeeally delicious!”
“Really?”
“Yeah! I never knew a cake made from carrots could taste this good. Can I eat all of it?”
I nodded at the childlike, excited Serena and held out a macaron.
“Try this too.”
“Okay.”
She accepted it and stared at it for a long while in fascination before taking a careful bite.
“Ha, this is amazing too. Aren’t you a genius?”
“Hahaha, not at all. But thanks.”
Her enthusiastic praise lightened my worry-filled heart.
Maybe it was the sweet dessert, too.
“At this level, it wouldn’t fall short even compared to the head pastry chef’s desserts.”
“Ah, thanks—even if it’s just flattery.”
“I can’t lie, you know.”
Serena pouted slightly as she muttered that.
Good. If I make things like this tomorrow, it should be fine.
With my confidence growing, I felt like I’d sleep well tonight.
—Kugh…!
…What is this scene?
A vision unfolded before my eyes as if I were watching a movie.
Two men facing each other.
A sword piercing the abdomen of one man as he collapsed with a heavy groan.
The man standing pulled the blade out without hesitation.
At the same time, blood gushed out, soaking the floor.
—At last, I have cut you with my own hands.
The murmuring man’s face was darkened by shadows, impossible to see clearly.
The one gasping painfully in front of him was—
“…That’s Iart!”
Yes, this scene.
It was a scene from Evening Primrose, the novel I had been reading.
The scene where Iart dies—the part I was reading just before I heard the honking sound.
Am I dreaming right now?
—Now I have no regrets.
With those words, the man plunged the sword into his own abdomen without a moment’s hesitation.
“Huh…?”
I felt as if my eyes met those of the man who collapsed beside him.
He looked strangely familiar…
“Gasp!”
So it was a dream after all.
I’d jolted upright so suddenly that I felt a bit dizzy.
When I touched my head, cold sweat clung to my skin.
“Why of all scenes…”
It was something I didn’t want to remember.
That scene was what shocked me into freezing and caused all this.
Who would want to watch their favorite character die?
And back then it was just words—but now that I’d met him face to face, it felt far more real.
The death of a character in a novel and the death of a living, breathing person before my eyes—
The difference in emotions was chilling.
“Ugh, whatever!”
Anyway, unlike at the beginning, Iart hadn’t killed anyone yet, and if I continued to change the story—
If the ending changed, maybe he wouldn’t die.
There was no need to worry about such a distant future yet.
“Eek, I’m late!”
Because I’d thrashed around in my dream, I woke up later than usual.
I hurriedly jumped out of bed.
“I greet the young lady.”
It had been a while since I last saw Ruella, and she still possessed an angelic beauty.
So this was the female lead.
Just standing still, she radiated a different kind of aura.
“I’ve heard about it. I’m looking forward to it.”
As Ruella smiled gently, the head pastry chef’s desserts and mine were placed in front of her.
The pastry chef presented a whipped cream cake topped with various decorations, along with cookies filled with nuts and dried fruits.
They were far more elaborate than mine and looked perfect for a banquet.
Should I have made something flashier?
From the start, I preferred light desserts to enjoy with coffee rather than ones meant for grand banquets.
That was natural, given I’d worked in a small bakery.
Placed side by side, the contrast made anxiety creep in.
So this is the difference experience makes…
No matter how many kinds of desserts I knew, experience built over many years might not be something I could easily catch up to.
Still, clinging to a thread of hope, I waited for Ruella’s tasting.
“The head pastry chef’s desserts are always excellent.”
“You flatter me.”
After tasting his desserts, Ruella offered brief praise.
Then she turned to mine.
“Hmm.”
At her unreadable reaction, I swallowed hard.
A moment later, after taking a bite of the cake, her face brightened.
“This is a flavor I’ve never experienced before. What kind of cake is this?”
“It’s carrot cake.”
At my answer, the smile at Ruella’s lips faded.
“Carrot… you say?”
“Yes. It’s finely chopped, so it’s hard to see.”
Still looking puzzled, Ruella took another bite.
“There’s really carrot in this?”
“Yes.”
“How strange. I can’t taste the carrot at all, even though I dislike it…”
She examined the cake from different angles, clearly impressed.
Her reaction was far better than I’d expected, making my heart flutter.
“This is interesting too. What is this called?”
“It’s called a macaron.”
“Macaron… even the name is as cute as its shape.”
After biting into one, Ruella couldn’t hide her pleased expression.
Yes—anyone would look like that after eating a macaron.
Watching her enjoy it, I unconsciously licked my lips.
“What is your name?”
She stepped closer to me.
“My name is Irenia, my lady.”
“I see, Irenia.”
“Yes.”
It felt like the moment of choice had arrived.
I clenched both fists tightly in tension.
“What do you think is the difference between the head pastry chef’s desserts and yours?”
“…Their extravagance?”
“That’s right. You understand well.”
Ruella nodded seriously.
The sudden shift in atmosphere made me uneasy.
“A banquet is a place where many nobles of the empire gather, so extravagance suits it better than simplicity.”
“Yes…”
It was something I hadn’t considered.
I felt as if the opportunity given to me might vanish like a bubble.
“The taste is excellent. They’re unique desserts I’ve never seen before, which is very appealing.”
Arms crossed, Ruella closed her eyes and pondered.
Though it was only a short time, it felt endlessly long because of my nerves.
“Ah, how about this?”
“Yes? What…?”
She opened her eyes brightly and looked back and forth between the pastry chef and me.
“Let’s take inspiration from the head pastry chef’s style and decorate Irenia’s desserts more lavishly.”
“Ah.”
In that instant, a thought flashed through my mind—I had to act first.
“Head Pastry Chef! May I ask a favor?”
With sparkling eyes, I clasped my hands together and looked at him.
After rolling his eyes awkwardly for a moment, he finally nodded.
“I will do so.”
“That sounds good. I’m looking forward to it, Irenia.”
It wasn’t perfect, but in the end, it was a success.
Unable to hide my joy, I answered brightly,
“Yes!”
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
Iart, seated in his office reviewing documents, set down his pen at the sound of knocking.
He assumed it was Taron, but the person who entered was unexpected.
“Head pastry chef?”
The chef was carrying a tray with desserts.
“What brings you here?”
Iart showed his confusion at the sudden visit.
“I brought today’s dessert, and I thought you might like to taste this as well.”
What the chef presented was the carrot cake and macarons made by Irenia.
“They’re desserts made by a newly arrived maid named Irenia.”
At the mention of her name, Iart frowned slightly.
“Why should I taste these?”
He had eaten the meringue cookies Irenia brought before, but since it was during an episode of madness, he didn’t remember it at all.
The uniquely shaped desserts caught Iart’s attention.
