Episode 23

Actually, there was one person I had been targeting within the Duke’s office.

He wasn’t my husband, but one of the mansion’s servants. The purpose was to obtain information.

“I think he’s struggling with a problem that’s too difficult to handle on his own.”

“Where are you?”

“It’s the utility room next to the kitchen where silverware is washed.”

I’ve been just watching, but it’s time to start taking action.

‘If I become friendly with that person, I might be able to find out all sorts of things about the Duke’s residence.’

A character who is older than the Duke and cannot be shaken or kicked out carelessly, and who exists in a kind of symbiotic relationship with Ezekiel.

So I took the time to approach him strategically. I told Anna to let me know immediately if anything was going to get him into trouble.

I was going to jump into action if it was something I could judge and handle, and today feels like that day.

Anna gave a brief explanation as we walked towards it.

“The silverware used to serve food to guests has changed color, and the mansion is in an uproar.”

“Is it a suspicion of poison?”

“Yes. The food handlers are crying and making a fuss, saying there’s no way poison could have been brought in!”

If you’re not careful, you might end up catching a lot of people.

I made up my mind and headed in that direction.

“I swear I didn’t bring any poison! This is unfair!”

“Then how do you explain this phenomenon?”

“That, that… I don’t know either….”

“The Madam has arrived!”

The kitchen staff and chefs who had been arguing were terrified at the same time.

My gaze was fixed on one of the many people gathered there.

Alfredo, the mansion’s veteran butler.

“Why did you come to such a shabby place?”

Alfredo, a middle-aged man with graying hair, hurriedly lowered his head. He had a kind and sorrowful expression, and he held a silver plate, tarnished black, in his hand.

Alfredo’s face darkened when he noticed that I was looking at the plate.

“Oh, ma’am. I was questioning the person in charge. It’ll be sorted out soon, so don’t worry.”

“that.”

I began to speak calmly.

The kitchen assistant and the boy in charge of food are trembling as they kneel before Alfredo.

“Do you think it’s poison?”

The atmosphere instantly soured as I blurted out my words. Alfredo’s friendly expression crumbled.

“Ma, ma’am. I…….”

A moment of silence.

“……Yes. I think so.”

He stared intently at the butler’s face, which had raised suspicion with a pained expression.

I’ve only read 20 episodes of the original work, but I knew Alfredo’s name because it appeared early on.

I don’t know the exact circumstances, but there was a description that he regretted firing his beloved kitchen assistant. That’s probably what happened today.

What we need to focus on here is that we ‘regretted’ it.

‘If you look at it, it wasn’t a mistake, but you’re saying that you made a rash decision.’

“You think Alfredo is poison, right? The kitchen assistant and the food handler were at fault?”

“Yes. We’ve been taught that silverware changes color when it comes into contact with poison. Look at this.”

Alfredo showed me the plate he was holding. The eerily black part was clearly visible.

“That’s why I was questioning those guys. I hope you understand, it’s not an unpleasant sight to show you, Madam.”

He’s asking me to go back for a bit until he finds the culprit ‘roughly’.

That can’t be possible.

From what I’ve seen so far, the originals I’ve heard have a tendency to be annoyingly twisted but not twisted.

If that’s the case, then it’s highly likely that Alfredo’s fate, which he will regret today, will not change in the end.

Instead of backing down, I asked them a question.

“Hey, kitchen assistant. Tell me. What were you cooking today?”

“Huh? Oh, it was oil pasta.”

“Bring it and see.”

A plate of pasta was placed before me. It wasn’t served on silverware, but on a regular plate. It was cold and falling apart.

I rolled it around on my fork as I observed it… … .

I put it in my mouth.

“Ugh! No!”

“It might be poisoned! Spit it out!”

The servants rushed in in surprise. Alfredo, startled, held his hand out in front of my mouth.

“Ugh. This is too…!”

When I retched, the reaction became more intense.

“Please! Don’t swallow it, spit it out!”

“Contact the congressman immediately!”

I grimaced as if I was out of breath, then spoke with tears welling up in my eyes.

“It’s so… tasteless!”

“Huh? It’s not tasty, no, really? Are you okay? Isn’t it poisonous?”

The commotion stopped. I wiped away my tears and mumbled as if I were normal.

“It’s not poisonous. But it’s so sweet for an oil pasta that it tastes the worst.”

The servants looked dumbfounded. I casually stuffed a little more pasta into my mouth.

“Ugh. It’s not tasty as expected. Mr. Kitchen Assistant, did you make it yourself?”

“Uh, yes… It’s a simple dish, so I made it all….”

“Lies. Your eyes are shaking.”

For a moment, I caught the assistant’s gaze moving towards the chef and then down.

The cook gritted his teeth and scolded the assistant with his eyes.

“I think the chef has something to say. What do you think?”

“I don’t know!”

You strongly deny it.

“Guys, I just felt the sweetness in the oil pasta, and it felt familiar. It’s onion.”

Oil pasta in this country does not contain onions.

It was only natural that pasta with a mild oil and spicy spices would taste strange when onions were added.

I was confident in my ability to tell the difference between pasta flavors because I would sneak in the pasta Anna made every night when I was hungry after a half-hearted dinner at the restaurant.

“You think that if silverware changes color, it’s definitely poisonous, but did you know that onions and eggs also change color when they come into contact with each other?”

The reason silver reacts to poison is because of the sulfur component unique to arsenic.

“Onions and eggs also contain the same sulfur compounds.”

To demonstrate, I brought an onion and stabbed it with a silver spoon. As time passed, the spoon gradually turned black.

It didn’t taste very good, but I chopped up that onion and gulped it down. Of course, I was fine.

“Madam, if you look closely, there are onion pieces mixed in here and there with the noodles.”

“This can’t be happening…….”

“Okay. It looks like the poison charge has been resolved.”

I smiled faintly and turned my eyes to the chef who seemed to be hiding something.

“There seems to be some kind of relationship between the chef and the kitchen assistant. Could you explain what happened?”

The kitchen assistant glances anxiously at the chef, the butler Alfredo glares, and I watch them.

The chef broke out in a cold sweat under the heavy gazes of all kinds.

***

In conclusion, it was all the chef’s fault.

Did you mistake the oil pasta, which was meant for entertaining guests, for cream pasta, and then realize too late that you had fried a lot of onions with the noodles?

‘Even if you’re short on time, you just use the onion-flecked, flavored noodles for oil pasta?’

Since such ingredients were placed in silverware for guests, discoloration was an expected process.

Yes, mistakes like that are possible.

However, as someone with extensive cooking experience, I was disappointed by his attitude of pretending not to notice his subordinate, who was suspected of bringing in poison, in an attempt to cover up his mistake, even though he knew full well that the dishes would be discolored.

“I would have thought it was better.”

Ezekiel let out a long sigh.

He also received a report of the incident that occurred in the kitchen.

“Since the assistant was being accused of something, they were planning to blame the assistant for the pasta mistake by saying it was his fault for the miscommunication.”

“That’s too much.”

“If it weren’t for my wife, I would have just kicked out my poor assistant.”

“Because the chef is a very powerful person in the mansion.”

The assistants and maids below would have accepted it without even making a sound.

“It was supposed to be a discussion about the vassals and the estate’s finances, but the food was ruined, suspicions of attempted poisoning arose, and the cook was fired. It’s a complete mess.”

Hmm… … I’m full of complaints.

My habit of being obsessed with what other people think is rearing its head again.

He asked dryly.

“As a professionally trained chef, how did you know that onions discolor silverware?”

“Books. Before I got married, I practically lived in the study of an empty house.”

Ezekiel, who had been staring at me silently, suddenly smiled and said.

“It seems like a lot of knowledge is stored in that small head.”

“……?”

Praise… Praise?