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Chapter 14
After forcing myself to do something that didn’t even suit me, I couldn’t grasp what I should be drawing anymore.
If I wanted to at least pretend to draw, I needed to know Raphael’s tastes.
“I just like it.”
What a completely unhelpful villain.
Raphael rose from his seat — it seemed he had finished his meal.
“Do you have anything else to say?”
“…No.”
“Then stop doing useless things from now on and focus on your painting.”
He hadn’t even granted me permission to go outside, and yet he had the nerve to talk about “useless things.”
I tried to let it slide, but it was so ridiculous I couldn’t hold back.
“Ahaha. You make it sound like I’ve done something useless before. I’ve been obediently painting, just as you ordered.”
“You did.”
I tilted my head. Since being kidnapped by Raphael and dragged to this mansion, my life had become an endless routine of eat → paint → sleep.
Even if I wanted to do something else, Henna and Maximus kept such close watch that I couldn’t even try.
“I don’t recall doing anything like that.”
“Seems you’ve forgotten about meddling with the knights’ meal, even though I didn’t order it.”
Only then did I realize what he was referring to as a “useless act.”
“Don’t tell me… you mean the cooking?”
“Yes.”
What—cooking is a useless act?
Cooking is the very thing that makes people happy — the most useful act of all!
Besides, I take cooking seriously. I only make dishes that anyone would be proud to serve.
“It wasn’t useless. The knights were exhausted and they loved it! Everyone was satisfied!”
“They must all have terrible taste.”
“Wow, even Your Highness ate it.”
When the beef stew was ready, Maximus himself had brought a bowl to Raphael.
His lips twisted into a mocking smirk.
“Yes, I tried it. I took one spoonful, but it was so disgusting I couldn’t eat more.”
What? He threw it away because it tasted bad?
Impossible!
Unless his taste buds were dead, there was no way my cooking could taste bad.
The moment he insulted my food, real anger began to rise.
“You’re judging it after just one spoonful? You didn’t even taste it properly!”
“Are you defying my judgment right now?”
“Yes. Because I can’t trust the palate of someone who’d call my cooking terrible.”
No wonder he couldn’t appreciate art either.
I muttered that last part under my breath — but of course Raphael heard it perfectly, like some kind of ghost.
A vein popped on his perfectly composed forehead.
“This conversation isn’t worth continuing. I’m leaving.”
“Please don’t. Just try the dish I’ll make for you.”
“Heh. You can’t even paint properly, and now you want to cook?”
Yeah, that’s right.
No matter what, I was going to get him to taste my cooking — and I’d make sure he couldn’t help but be impressed.
“It’s just cooking, so I won’t even need to go outside! And since I can’t trust Your Highness’s taste, I want to prove it!”
“There’s no reason for me to humor you in such a pointless act.”
“Are you avoiding it?”
“Avoiding? Me?”
Raphael tapped his temple lightly with his finger, as if in thought. After a brief pause, he came to a decision.
“Fine. But if I’m not satisfied, you won’t be allowed out of the studio ever again. You’ll eat, sleep, and do everything in that room — and only paint. Agreed?”
You maniac — that’s imprisonment!
Oh, he must be thrilled; probably thinks this is his chance to shut me up for good.
I quickly ran the numbers in my head. Maximus had said Raphael was a gourmet.
Satisfying the palate of a true gourmet would be a real challenge.
A normal person might back down here…
But I like this.
The fire of a top-class chef blazed inside me.
“Fine, I’ll do it. But I have one condition too.”
He tilted his head slightly — a gesture that meant, go on, let’s hear this nonsense.
“Say it.”
‘I want to go outside. To set up an escape route and buy the holy relic the heroine painted. Of course, I’ll bill everything to the Duke of Recondias estate.’
That’s what I should’ve said.
But the part of my brain still seething over him insulting my food blurted out something else entirely.
“Even if you like my cooking, I’ll never cook for you again.”
“That’s unexpected. I thought you’d ask to go outside.”
“Well, that condition does sound tempting.”
I could find another chance to go out later. But getting Raphael to eat my food was another matter.
No one eats my food just once.
Even critics who used to trash-talk my hotel’s cuisine completely changed their tune after tasting what I made.
That rush I’d felt back then…
Once he had a proper taste, I was sure he’d get hooked — like an addict craving more.
“My only condition is that you eat the food properly and give an honest review.”
“You think I’d lie about something as trivial as taste?”
“Promise me anyway.”
“Heh, fine. I’ll give you an honest review, as you wish.”
“Thank you.”
“And I’ll throw in permission for you to go out as part of the deal.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Whether he trusted his palate that much, or simply believed my food would be terrible, his voice was full of confidence.
Since he was being so generous, I added one more clause.
“Alright then. If you sincerely ask for it later, I’ll make one more dish for you.”
Sincerely ask?
Yeah, that alone wouldn’t be enough.
If he begged — like, really begged, maybe even clinging to my leg and crying — I might feel sorry enough to make him fried rice or something.
“Fine. If I’m satisfied, I’ll do that.”
He agreed.
No take-backs now!
We had lunch not long ago, so Raphael and I decided our little wager would be settled over dinner.
I went to the Recondias Duchy’s kitchen to make preparations.
“Wow…”
No wonder it was one of the wealthiest ducal families in the Empire.
Smoked meats hung from the ceiling, the shelves were packed with dried fish, assorted cheeses, and countless boxes filled with ingredients.
Now then, what dish should I make?
I had only dined with Raphael once, but I’d gathered a fair bit of information.
‘He didn’t seem to have much sense of smell.’
The flavor of food depends heavily on aroma.
Naturally, if someone can’t smell, they might think the food lacks taste.
‘It’s not like he has a cold.’
He hadn’t sniffled or coughed — none of that.
Maybe he was just born with a weak sense of smell?
But wasn’t he supposed to be a gourmet?
Enjoying food purely through taste, without scent, must be difficult.
I was lost in thought when someone spoke up.
“There’s also a vegetable garden outside.”
“Yes, and there’s an orchard not far from here! At this time of year, it’s full of blueberries and apples — a beautiful sight! Would you like to visit it?”
It was the knights again, rubbing their hands together as they approached.
There were quite a few of them — and even more peeking shyly from behind the doorway.
Maximus, who was nearby, scolded them and pushed one back.
“You look like a bunch of flies buzzing around the kitchen. Shoo, get lost.”
“Aw, that’s so mean! Sir Maximus just wants all the good food to himself!”
“I don’t get to eat, either. This time, only His Highness will.”
But the knights didn’t seem inclined to leave.
Maximus had to physically shove them out of the kitchen — though a few managed to sneak back in, shouting,
“Lady Bridge!”
“Yes?”
The knight who called my name clasped both hands politely, his eyes sparkling.
“Since you’re cooking anyway, could you make a little extra? Even leftovers would be fine — please spare us just a bit!”
“Me too! I dream of your cooking every night, my lady. If I could taste it in real life, I’d lick even a drop of sauce clean!”
“Please, Lady, show us mercy and let us taste your divine cuisine!”
I crossed my arms, looking at them with a familiar kind of pride.
Yes — this was the normal reaction to my cooking.
Raphael’s claim that he’d eaten it and just “thrown it away” was what didn’t make sense.
‘Wait… maybe he never even ate it?’
That “one spoonful” might’ve been a lie.
It’s one thing if it wasn’t to his liking, but if he didn’t even taste it — that was an insult.
‘Just wait, this time I’ll make him lick the plate clean.’
Since becoming Lyria, I’d never felt this fired up before.
That’s how much my competitive spirit was burning.
It felt like the determination of a knight going into battle for honor.
And before any battle, a knight must inspect their weapon carefully.
So, I decided to inspect my weapons — my ingredients.
“They said there are lots of blueberries, right? I’d like to see them.”
The best dishes come from seasonal ingredients, after all.
I decided to visit the vegetable garden and orchard.
As it turned out, the Recondias estate’s garden wasn’t within walking distance.
So, several knights eagerly volunteered to escort me, and in the end, Maximus brought around a carriage to settle the matter.
But I said,
“I’d like all the knights to come along.”
If I was going to escape someday, I’d need allies.
And besides, having more hands would make harvesting fruits and vegetables easier.
The knights cheered and followed my carriage as we set off.
After a short ride through the vast gardens, we arrived at the edge of a forest path — where I could finally get out.
With Maximus’s escort, I stepped down from the carriage and looked toward the orchard.
