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Chapter 36
Meanwhile, Francesca, distressed by the sudden news that the doctor she had sent to Halara had disappeared, headed to the first-floor dining hall at Karl’s urging.
“That child prepared my meal?”
It was an unusual thing. She had heard it was a thank-you gift for the clothes she had given. “Doing something I didn’t even ask for.” She had only wanted her to stay quietly in her place. Besides, she had a small appetite and usually didn’t enjoy food. This time, she would eat, thinking of the effort put into the preparation, but she intended to tell her not to do it again. She couldn’t tell her to stay out of sight or not to trouble her.
With that, she entered the dining hall. Vast, yet endlessly lonely.
Determined to speak firmly to Halara, she froze when she saw someone sitting alone at the long table.
“……Dochef?”
Her widened eyes met her son.
Dochef also lifted his body at her voice. Judging by his hesitation, it seemed he hadn’t heard she was coming either.
Francesca, clutching her startled heart, stepped further into the dining hall.
“Where’s Halara?”
“I don’t know.”
Dochef answered curtly. Then Mei bowed her head and spoke on his behalf.
“The young lady’s condition suddenly worsened, so she had no choice but to return to her room.”
It was a lie. Halara had abruptly cleared her dishes, said she had something to attend to, and left her in charge. Mei pressed down her apron. “The young lady stepped aside.”
Halara had never been ignored even by a maid like Getty. From what Francesca had heard from the servants in the main house, when Halara had first entered, Nikolai had been furious to the brim.
“She probably stepped aside to avoid another fight if it got out that the three of them had eaten at the same table.”
If Halara had suddenly changed her plan, it was likely for that reason. From what Francesca had observed in a short time, Halara was someone who liked people and was considerate. She was probably the only one who would immediately wear a maid’s outfit if offered.
“…Sick?”
Thud—Dochef reacted instantly to those words.
“Where is she now?”
“Huh?”
Seeing his almost-ready-to-run response, Mei hurriedly clarified.
“She’s feeling unwell. She said not to worry and that you should eat.”
“Sit, Dochef.”
Francesca intentionally sat opposite him, thinking Halara had made way. Dochef hesitated briefly but remained seated silently.
“It’s been a long time.”
Breaking the awkwardness, Francesca spoke first. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had sat facing her son.
“It’s the first time.”
“…Really?”
“Yes.”
While the mother and son sat awkwardly, Mei began transferring food from the trolley. Francesca inwardly wished the dishes would be placed quickly. Perhaps eating would ease the tense atmosphere.
Soon, five dishes were spread across the table. They were familiar yet unfamiliar dishes.
“These are dishes the young lady personally prepared since this morning.”
They resembled ordinary food but had subtle differences. Francesca guessed they were adaptations of dishes commonly eaten by commoners.
“They should be delicious,” Dochef spoke first, seeing her hesitation. “Halara is an excellent cook.”
Francesca shifted her gaze to her son. Judging by appearances, he had been served multiple meals aside from breakfast that morning.
“It’s your first time, huh?”
“What?”
“Praising someone.”
After reflecting Dochef’s words, Francesca picked up her fork. Though reluctant, she decided to eat a few bites out of respect for the effort.
“Hmm?!”
Until she tasted the pasta, Francesca’s eyes widened.
“The flavor is amazing!”
The savory taste lingered on her tongue. Sweet and salty notes, crisp vegetables despite being cooked—though the ingredients were common, the taste made her want to keep eating. Francesca moved her fork before even swallowing. In the endless delight of flavors, her mouth forgot to rest.
Dochef, sitting opposite her, also ate diligently, making her feel even hungrier. Having always eaten alone, Francesca finally felt like she was having a proper meal. Dochef felt the same. All five dishes were excellent—stimulating yet not overwhelming, inviting more bites.
“You never fail to surprise me.”
He had tried all the delicacies of this world, yet such food was new to him. Where did this girl come from, surprising him every time with a different dish?
“Are you smiling?” Francesca noticed his expression. Dochef had long worn a blank face, rarely smiling even in good moments. He didn’t cry either. Even after being struck by Nikolai or Helbern, he never bent. How many times had he been unable to say, “I’m sorry, I was wrong, I won’t do it again,”?
And now he smiled.
“When did he learn to smile like that?”
Looking at him, Francesca realized how much he had grown—both in height and build, nearly on par with Nikolai.
“Thank her for me,” Francesca said after a moment’s thought. Dochef’s smile deepened.
“Thank you,” he said.
Seeing that, Francesca almost dropped her utensils in surprise. It was the first time he had smiled at her—she felt deeply grateful.
“Don’t smile like an idiot.”
The words came out awkwardly, against her heart’s intent. “That’s not it.” She tried to correct herself, but Dochef replied first.
“I will be careful.”
“No… that’s not it. Congratulations on your awakening. You must have had a hard time all this while.”
“Don’t act recklessly just because you’ve awakened. From now on, regardless of what your brothers say, move forward confidently. Always stay humble and strive to become a knight who can follow in Father’s footsteps, like Nikolai and Helbern.”
Her words kept going astray. Francesca gave up trying to correct them, worried she might only hurt Dochef further.
“I’m sorry for causing you so much worry,” he said, bowing his head.
“What’s this red thing?”
Francesca changed the subject, no longer wishing to say unnecessary words. Among the colorful dishes, one stood out—a cabbage dish. Though she couldn’t identify it at first glance, its red color and pungent smell made its spiciness obvious.
“Hmm.” Francesca quietly turned her fork away.
“What is this dish?”
Dochef speared some kimchi and asked.
“It’s kimchi made from cabbage. The young lady said eating it would refresh your palate whenever the food felt greasy,” Mei explained eagerly.
Dochef took a forkful and put it in his mouth. Cough! Immediately, he covered his mouth and began to cough. Francesca jumped up and handed him a handkerchief.
“Are you alright?”
Her hands were sweaty, anticipating he might refuse—but the worry vanished. Dochef took the handkerchief and nodded briefly.
“It must’ve been very spicy. No wonder you didn’t touch it earlier.”
“No, it’s delicious.”
“Delicious?” After all that coughing?
“Mother, you should try it too.” Dochef politely offered the kimchi with both hands. Francesca blinked at her son’s behavior—he even evaluated the taste.
“Hm. Since the effort’s there, I’ll try it.” She took some. It was spicy but not inedible.
Then—
Cough! Ugh!
The spiciness hit her, and her face flushed red.
“Ha ha ha.”
“Are you laughing?! Right now?”
“No, sorry. Hehe.”
This time, Dochef handed her a clean napkin. Francesca wiped her mouth and glared at him.
“But it’s still delicious, isn’t it?” he said playfully. The coughing had broken the stiff atmosphere.
“It’s the spiciness.”
“I like it.”
“You can eat spicy food?” She slurred slightly from the burning taste. Dochef smiled faintly and nodded.
“I’ll bring something to cool your tongue.” He left, leaving the dining hall silent again. Francesca, face flushed, sipped some wine. Still feeling the lingering spiciness, she panted awkwardly and spoke to Mei.
“You’re a maid from the annex, right?”
“Yes.”
“But the butler said her personal maid was Getty.”
So she could take another maid with her freely? Still, Francesca didn’t plan to object—she already felt indebted for being able to dine with Dochef today. Though Halara was a child of little use to the family—or even a nuisance—she couldn’t bring herself to complain.
“Getty ran away yesterday, so I had to accompany the young lady myself.”
“Ran away?” Unexpected news.
“Actually, Getty suggested that the annex maids harass the young lady to drive her out. The head chef Hassen found out, and that’s probably why she ran away.”
“She suggested driving her out? Is that true?”
“Yes, it definitely happened.”
“Ugh!” How dare a maid try to drive out her mistress? Francesca had heard Getty was loyal, yet how could she commit such insubordination? And she must have known Francesca had accepted Halara.
“Did the girl know?”
“The young lady knew as well.”
“I see…” Then Francesca could have mistakenly thought she had sent such a maid on purpose.
“And yet she still prepared this food.”
Francesca pressed her palm to her forehead. She felt too apologetic and embarrassed to lift her head.
