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Chapter : 24
“This… is a Potea fruit?”
Marianne looked at what Bertrand was holding with a bewildered expression. It looked completely different from what she had seen a week ago.
“Yes. It whispered that it could grow bigger, so I gave it plenty of water and fertilizer, and it grew this much.”
Bertrand answered proudly, gazing at the Potea fruit in his hands with a look of utter affection. He even gently caressed the fruit as if praising a precious child.
‘It’s almost turned into a king-sized potato… Is that okay…?’
The Potea fruit seemed inspired by potatoes, a crop famous for sustaining people in hard times. Originally, it had been only about the size of Marianne’s fist, but now even two fists wouldn’t seem enough to match its size.
“Th-Then… we can eat it, right?”
“Yes. Only the skin is a bit darker, but the smell and the way it ‘speaks’ are the same, so the inside should be fine. If you permit, I can cut it open to show you.”
“Hmm, no. We’ll find out when we cook it later.”
“Phew. That’s a relief, Merlin. You’ll be able to live a little longer.”
…Did he even give it a name?
Marianne gave an awkward smile and tore her gaze away from Bertrand, whose farming skills were undeniably impressive despite being a little odd.
Instead, looking at the basket behind him, filled with king-sized potatoes—no, Potea fruits—she thought it wasn’t so bad.
‘Since it’s grown this big, maybe if we don’t mention it’s a Potea fruit, even people who would normally refuse might eat it hesitantly.’
Previously, Julia had reacted somewhat positively, but the prejudice the northern people had against Potea fruits was surprisingly strong.
Many people shook their heads, saying that even growing them, let alone eating them, would mean being possessed by beasts. It seemed it would take a long time for the fruit to gain acceptance.
But the fruits in the basket were so large that, if Bertrand were to call them Potea fruits, it would be hard to believe. The color of the skin was also slightly different, just as he had said.
Maybe it would be better not to reveal the name and just call it a staple crop.
Thinking this far, Marianne decided to confirm with Bertrand.
“Bertrand.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Do you think there are any crops similar to this king—no, Potea fruit?”
Bertrand paused, carefully placing the fruit in the basket. He seemed to understand the intent behind Marianne’s question.
Furrowing his brows as if searching his mind, he finally spoke.
“Hmmm… It looks similar to Stolem, but I worry because the taste might be different.”
“Then we can just try eating it. Are you okay with that, Bertrand?”
“Yes. It pains my heart to eat this cute and lovely Merlin, but for humans to live, plants must exist as well. I shall accept this farewell humbly.”
“I’m glad you’re okay with it.”
Marianne smiled awkwardly again and waited patiently, giving Bertrand time to bid a tearful farewell to the Potea fruit.
“Amelie. Can we send it to the kitchen now?”
“Yes. Julia should be preparing dinner, so I’ll deliver it. But, Your Highness… are you really going to eat it yourself?”
Amelie’s gaze showed strong disapproval, yet she put on gloves and picked it up. Her voice was full of concern as she asked Marianne for confirmation.
“I think the best way is to prove it’s completely safe to eat. Bertrand will eat it too. Steam it lightly and bring it here, Amelie.”
“…Understood.”
Hiding the reluctance clearly written on her face, Amelie headed to the kitchen. She returned just as Bertrand finished telling a story about the fifth fruit and the memories attached to it.
“Welcome back, Amelie.”
Marianne tried not to show too much enthusiasm as she approached Amelie. The surprisingly good aroma made her eyes widen a little.
“The fruit is so large that steaming it whole would take too long, so I cut it up for cooking. This one is simply steamed, while Julia made this one with melted butter and roasted it.”
Amelie’s expression softened as she explained the dishes, suggesting Julia had also given positive feedback about the Potea fruit.
Sitting at the table Bertrand had set in the greenhouse for their meal, Marianne focused on the silver lid being lifted.
The Potea fruit had been cut into four large pieces, steaming white.
Three pieces were steamed without any additions, maintaining a fluffy texture, while the last one had been thoroughly coated in butter, turning golden brown.
“It looks delicious. Smells good too. Bertrand, sit and hold it.”
“Oh, no. Even for a meal honoring Merlin, I cannot dare to sit with Your Highness. I find it comfortable to eat standing, so please allow me.”
“Alright. Do as you like.”
Nodding, Marianne picked up her fork and knife. To taste it before it cooled, she cut small portions of both the steamed and roasted pieces onto her plate.
The first bite of the plain steamed piece revealed the natural flavor of the fruit, and she couldn’t help but exclaim in delight.
“Mmm.”
The soft taste filled her mouth. It reminded her of potatoes but had a subtle sweetness like sweet potatoes—bringing back memories of sugar-coated potatoes at her grandmother’s house.
‘It’s a bit sad that no one else would agree with me on this.’
She picked up the next piece and observed Bertrand.
As soon as Marianne tasted it, Bertrand chewed thoughtfully, then his expression overflowed with emotion.
“Merlin. You were truly a lovely plant.”
She ignored his tearful murmurs and turned to check Amelie’s reaction.
Until just before taking a bite, Amelie couldn’t hide her skepticism. Her eyes widened slightly as she glanced back and forth between her empty fork and plate.
“Wow.”
When tasting the butter-roasted piece, her reaction was even more enthusiastic. The savory and rich flavors made it impossible to dislike.
This tastes just like a roadside station baked potato.
Marianne’s eyes sparkled as she ate another piece, and the roasted butter pieces quickly disappeared. Both Bertrand and Amelie seemed reluctant to put down their forks, wanting more.
“Bertrand, how is it? Similar to Stolem?”
“Hmmm. Yes. Compared to Stolem, it’s slightly less sweet, but the texture and taste are similar.”
“And Amelie? If we gave it to the northern people, would they eat it?”
“…Some might refuse if they hear the rumor that Your Highness is growing Potea fruits, but most would likely mistake it for Stolem and eat it.”
Marianne nodded with satisfaction. Even if it was a little deceptive, it was better to use a method that reduced resistance.
‘The only problem is the cultivation method.’
Originally, she had planned to leave it to Bertrand until the fruit quantity increased, then distribute seeds to northern people so they could grow it themselves. But if done as planned, they probably couldn’t grow it as large as Bertrand did.
“Bertrand. Could someone else grow fruit this big?”
“No. Ordinary people wouldn’t hear what the fruit is saying, so they couldn’t achieve this size.”
She had asked just in case, but the answer was decisively no. Marianne wiped her mouth with a napkin and looked around the spacious greenhouse.
The shiny leaves and stems rose from carefully cultivated soil, arranged like a large field.
Though she didn’t know much about farming, Marianne could see how much Bertrand cherished his plants.
So she decided to change her plan.
“Bertrand, at least until this spring, could you continue to take care of the Potea fruit?”
The most important thing was Bertrand’s willingness. He wasn’t from the north and had only temporarily been assigned the greenhouse. It could be hard work to be tied there all winter.
Especially with rumors that this winter would be unusually harsh, she was even more concerned.
‘But I must persuade him somehow…’
“Very well.”
“Huh?”
The answer came so immediately that Marianne’s eyes went wide.
“You seem to have expected me to refuse. But these friends are rare elsewhere, and I’ve heard this winter will be extremely harsh. How could I, as a human, turn away?”
Bertrand rubbed his nose and smiled, speaking as if he had prepared his words in advance.
“Also, I must admit, I didn’t expect the Potea fruit to taste this good. You’ll probably cook it in many ways in the future, and I’d appreciate it if I could have a little too.”
“Of course. I’ll make sure your pay is generous. Thank you, really.”
Marianne smiled with Bertrand. She was glad to have secured someone essential for the garden.
“Bertrand, can we harvest this much every week?”
“No. Over the past few days, my friends and I have been adjusting to each other. Next week, more sprouts will appear and bear fruit, so we might harvest three baskets.”
“Wow.”
Marianne was impressed. Even if Potea fruits grew quickly anywhere, it was amazing that they could maintain this size and produce such quantity.
“Great. I’m counting on you from now on.”
“I’ll prepare the contract.”
Amelie handled the important parts. Marianne nodded and looked outside the greenhouse. The snow had now become a full-blown blizzard.
If the wind picked up in the next few days, many would struggle.
Her previously slightly excited mood settled into calm.
“And Your Highness, I think Alain probably brought some herbs. We should go back now.”
“Yes. Bertrand, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to say.”
Marianne bid Bertrand farewell and left the greenhouse.
The wind was quite cold, but her heart did not feel the same.
