🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 31
“……”
“I can’t very well leave all these children hungry based solely on your word.”
Unlike a few days ago, when he had been eating the baked sweet potatoes she had prepared with butter and herbs, the Duke’s gaze was sharp.
Looking behind him, Luciella saw several participants and their parents openly glaring at her.
As if asking why she was preventing them from eating perfectly good stew.
“…Then I’ll make stew too.”
After a moment’s thought, Luciella answered.
“They can choose for themselves which one to eat. The head chef just tasted his stew, so it probably won’t kill anyone.”
That was what her mother had said.
Potions like that usually only caused symptoms such as an urgent need to use the bathroom.
Devastating during a competition, yet impossible to prove afterward.
Right.
Those who wanted to eat it could eat it.
Those who didn’t, didn’t have to.
Thinking about it, protecting Bael was her top priority.
If he ate something strange and couldn’t perform properly, her chance to reach her mother’s garden would disappear.
Besides, if everyone trusted Renard so much, there wasn’t much she could do anyway.
“That’s a dangerous proposal.”
The Duke spoke.
“I know.”
“If those who eat your stew perform poorly, people will believe your food is cursed from now on. There would be no guarantee you could continue cooking here.”
“I know.”
“And if no one chooses your stew—or perhaps only one person does—that would also be disastrous for your reputation as a chef.”
“I don’t care.”
It’s not like I was famous to begin with.
I’m fourteen years old.
I have more than enough confidence to start over.
There are more important things at stake right now.
“Hah.”
An oddly interested smile appeared at the corner of the Duke’s mouth.
“I knew you were a bold little thing, but…”
“Y-Your Grace!”
Before he could finish, Renard suddenly dropped to his knees and shouted.
“I refuse! I absolutely cannot accept this!”
“…Cannot accept it? Even if it is my decision?”
“B-Because of one little brat, my stew…!”
Grinding his teeth, Renard protested to the Duke.
Cold sweat ran down his neck.
His wandering eyes briefly flicked toward Osbern before returning.
“My pride won’t allow it! If this truly happens… then Renard may have no choice but to leave the ducal household!”
It was a gamble.
The head chef who had overseen the family’s meals for twenty years was staking his entire career against the Duke’s decision.
If he’s going this far, Osbern must have threatened him pretty severely.
If everyone else ate Renard’s stew but Bael escaped its effects, that would be a problem.
And that’s not all.
If every participant in the Hunting Festival experienced the same symptoms, identifying the cause would be difficult.
They could simply claim the problem came from the hunting grounds or the festival itself rather than the food.
But if only those who ate Luciella’s stew remained unaffected, suspicion would immediately fall upon the soup.
That was why Renard was so desperate to stop her.
“Renard.”
The Duke’s eyes turned cold.
Renard’s pupils trembled even more violently.
“I value those who have served me a long time. Even if their skills decline, I do not cast them aside lightly.”
The Duke’s voice was calm.
“But I dislike those who threaten me. And I have never yielded to threats.”
“I-It’s not a threat…!”
“I have made my decision. Luciella will also be permitted to make stew.”
The Duke declared it.
“What each person chooses to eat will be left to their own judgment.”
“Your Grace!”
“This is a competition chosen by Renard and Luciella.”
Ignoring Renard’s plea, the Duke continued.
“The chef whose stew is eaten by the tournament champion will be declared the winner. The victor stays. The loser leaves this estate. Both of you must take responsibility for your own words.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“…Yes, Your Grace.”
Unlike Luciella’s casual response, Renard’s voice was heavy.
When he raised his head, his eyes met Luciella’s.
Seeing the fury in his gaze, she smiled faintly.
The one with everything to lose was him.
The one with nothing to lose was her.
She wasn’t afraid of the outcome.
For a moment, silence lingered.
Then the corridor erupted into murmurs.
“Hey, maybe we really shouldn’t eat that.”
“What are you talking about? How do we know that girl’s stew isn’t even more dangerous?”
The participants whispered to one another, loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Mother, which one should I choose?”
“Well, obviously… wait a moment.”
Some parents frowned and hesitated.
Actually feeding it to their children made them nervous.
“You should eat Renard’s stew. If you don’t, you’ll be the only one who doesn’t receive good fortune.”
“That’s right. The winners have eaten it every year. If my child is the only one who doesn’t…”
“But if you think about it, haven’t the people with the worst results every year eaten the same stew?”
“Well… even so, it’s better than that unknown girl’s stew.”
Step.
As the confusion and murmuring gradually grew louder, Theo quietly moved.
Dressed impeccably in hunting attire that lent him an air of nobility he otherwise lacked, he calmly walked over and stood behind Renard without a word.
Every eye in the kitchen turned toward him.
“O-Oh, Theo stood behind the head chef. Then I guess I’ll…”
“That side is probably safer. Isolde is over there too, and Lord Osbern wouldn’t make a reckless choice.”
One by one, participants lined up behind Renard.
Most of them.
Including nearly all of the direct family members.
It can’t be helped.
Frowning slightly, Luciella turned to see who remained beside her.
Bael.
Well, at least Bael will eat my food, so that’s enough—huh?
She blinked.
Bael wasn’t alone.
Celine was standing directly behind him.
And behind Celine stood Dale.
Not far away, Renard stared at the pair in disbelief.
“Why are you two here?”
Bael asked bluntly.
“Well… it’s not a big deal or anything.”
Ignoring him, Celine addressed Luciella.
“I just felt sorry for you, so I decided to eat your food once. I don’t believe in stew luck anyway. And I’m not curious either.”
“Same here.”
Dale crossed his arms.
“It’d be a waste to throw it away, so I came. Make plenty. You don’t seem like the type who can estimate portions properly, so I’m helping you out.”
“……”
For a moment, Luciella was speechless.
…That sounds like a lie.
The expressions on their faces looked exactly like Bael’s and Cain’s whenever they lied about not being hungry.
Status Window.
She gave the command mentally.
Check their appetite levels.
Pop—
Small glowing letters appeared in the air.
[Celine Bellaon — Current Status]
Appetite: ★★★★★
Time Since Last Meal: 4 hours 12 minutes
Special Note: Currently in denial.
[Dale Bellaon — Current Status]
Appetite: ★★★★★
Time Since Last Meal: 3 hours 47 minutes
Special Note: Secretly swallowing saliva while imagining food.
“Huh? Why are you still standing there? Personally, I don’t care what I eat.”
“Yeah. I’m not expecting much anyway, but I can’t exactly starve.”
Shameless little liars.
Still, it was fortunate.
Three customers were better than one.
And more importantly, she could feel Osbern’s gaze from afar.
He looked thoroughly displeased.
An enemy’s unhappiness was her happiness.
Feeling much better, Luciella turned and walked into the kitchen.
Three servings.
She had no idea why the other two had joined her side, but three servings it was.
Thirty minutes was more than enough time.
She lit the stove and pulled out a cutting board.
First, the venison.
Tenderizing tough meat required effort at this stage.
Status Window.
Pop—
Activate special function. You had your rest earlier, so do your job properly this time.
The status window flashed red several times before sparkling text appeared in the air.
[Special Function Activated: “God’s Knife Edge”]
Warning: Mana consumption increased due to accelerated physical enhancement.
Remaining duration: 08 minutes 14 seconds.
“Eight minutes is more than enough.”
Luciella took a deep breath.
The instant she gripped the knife handle, a thrilling sensation surged up from her fingertips.
Across the blurred surface of the venison, every tough tendon, membrane, and sinew that needed removing suddenly appeared in sharp relief.
The moment she raised the kitchen knife—
The air in the kitchen trembled.
TATATATATATATATATANG—!
A barrage of explosive chopping sounds crashed through the kitchen as though she were trying to shatter the cutting board itself.
