Chapter 24

I headed to the kitchen to prepare for the officers’ dinner.

The kitchen maids and the chef looked disapprovingly at the ingredients I had brought.

“Your Highness, what on earth is ratatouille? How can we make something we don’t even know?”

“Uh…”

I couldn’t exactly explain that ratatouille was a home-style dish from southern France, made famous by a movie where a rat controls a man to cook.

I had eaten sardine pie here, so I thought ratatouille would be a thing here too… or maybe it just isn’t popular yet in this place?

“This is the chance to learn a new recipe then! It’s cheap, easy to make, and tastes great. I’ll try making it first.”

The chef frowned as he watched me tie on an apron.

“You are someone who’s probably only ever sliced steak, but you want to cook? I understand that you’re trying to seem approachable to us, but in reality, it’s only causing trouble for us.”

“I learned to cook as a hobby.”

I said firmly as I lifted my chin. Strictly speaking, it was my livelihood.

The head kitchen maid then interjected.

“Are you saying you plan to serve cheap food to the officers?”

“The ingredients I bought are top quality. I meant it can be made cheaply, not that it’s cheap.”

It seemed they simply didn’t want to do what I told them.

“I’ve already told them that I’m overseeing the dinner. You won’t be blamed for anything, so don’t worry.”

“Of course you did.”

The chef sneered, his expression clearly showing his displeasure.

Since Rose had been slandering me behind my back all this time, it was no wonder my reputation wasn’t great.

Understanding how they felt, I simply nodded and began slicing the zucchini.

“Slice the eggplant, zucchini, and tomato this thin.”

The helpers assigned to me started copying my example right away. They were the two young trainee servants who had been bullied by Rose.

Meanwhile, the chef and the kitchen maids were preparing ingredients for the main dish.

‘They’re really going to be that uncooperative…?’

But getting angry in a place where I didn’t have a single ally would only backfire on me.

Just they wait—I’ll win them over one by one until they’re all on my side.

When the day comes that we’re all enjoying a fun outing together, they won’t want to be left awkwardly alone at the empty residence with Massera, so they’d better act wisely.

“Your Highness, l-like this?”

The children asked nervously.

At some point, even the servants started calling me “Your Highness.” It’s so cringy and awkward I could die.

I smiled kindly as I watched their clumsy knife work.

“You’ll hurt yourself if you hold the knife like that. Let’s try again.”

I held their stiff hands and showed them the proper way.

Since kitchen work usually starts with menial tasks, this was probably their first time handling ingredients.

They must have been hoping to make me have the novices cook the dish I suggested.

Still, I’m glad it’s a simple dish anyone can make.

With the recipe for ratatouille being really simple, we were able to finish preparing the ingredients quickly.

“Normally it should be cooked slowly at a low temperature, but since this is just practice, let’s bake it for ten minutes in the oven. Aren’t you curious how our dish will turn out?”

“I really am curious.”

The trainee servants, perhaps finding that I wasn’t as they had imagined, relaxed and smiled brightly.

While chatting during cooking, I learned that their names were Marie and Jeannie, that they were refugees from Francia, and that they were fifteen years old. MBTI-wise, they’re probably I’s.

TL/N: Personality types (MBTI) is a trend in Korea and people tend to look at it first when establishing relationships nowadays.

When we took out the finished ratatouille, warm steam rose along with a delicious aroma.

“Wow.”

Marie almost clapped but stopped herself when she noticed the chef watching.

Perhaps because it was the first dish they had ever made since starting kitchen work, they looked excited.

“Here, say ah.”

As I blew on the food and fed it to Jeannie and Marie, their eyes widened and their cheeks flushed red.

“Uh, this is…”

“It’s a nostalgic taste.”

“You recognize it?”

Marie hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether it was okay to say so, before speaking cautiously.

“Your Highness, this tastes just like ratatou.”

Ah, so here they call it ratatou.

“Really? You know about it?”

“We were afraid we’d get scolded for acting like we knew, so we didn’t say anything. It’s a traditional dish from Francia, and the chef would know it too since he’s from the same region as us.”

I turned my head sharply and glanced at the chef.

So he knew what I was talking about, but still pretended he didn’t know how to make it?

“Now that you’ve taught the trainee servants the recipe, Your Highness may leave now. Someone as busy as you surely doesn’t have time to indulge in hobbies.”

The chef said bluntly as he met my gaze.

I looked at him and asked—

“Are you going to leave it entirely to the trainee servants? Or will you have them learn the recipe I taught them?”

As the kitchen was responsible for the meals of high-ranking officials, it was a place of authority and strict discipline. In other words, both ideas were out of the question.

“How could we entrust the officers’ meals to trainee servants?”

“So you never intended to listen to me from the start.”

I crossed my arms and stared him down.

As my silence and gaze dragged on, even the chef, who had been pretending to focus on his work, grew increasingly uneasy and started glancing at me.

After a while, the chef, looking as if he were sitting on pins and needles, finally spoke up.

“That is food for commoners. It’s not fit to serve the officers.”

“There’s no such thing as low or high-class food. If you use good ingredients and present it on fine plates, then it’s still fit for guests. The same goes for people. Good clothes can make anyone look dignified.”

The chef stared at me without a word.

I smirked in a way that was sure to rile him up and shrugged my shoulders.

“You either don’t know how to make it or you’re not confident. Perhaps you lied about being a Francia chef and were from Medeia all along.”

“How could you say something so insulting?!”

The chef jumped up in an outrage.

Of course he couldn’t stand being compared to Medeia, well known for its bizarre cuisine. After all, people from Francia took great pride in their cooking.

“If you can make a ratatou that satisfies people, I’ll acknowledge your skills.”

Speaking like a demon lord issuing a challenge, I watched the chef fume as he grabbed a knife and cutting board.

“Very well. If the officers are satisfied, I ask that you apologize for the comment you made that would offend all of Francia.”

“Sure, fine by me.”

As I turned to leave after accepting the challenge, Jeannie and Marie hurried after me.

“Your Highness, Mister Jad may be prickly, but he’s not a bad person. He’s just been through a lot of hardships… He even brought us here when we had nowhere to go because of the war.”

Jad was the chef’s name.

The royal family of Francia that fell in the revolution had been incompetent too. That was probably why I had become the target of their resentment.

“I understand. I believe that one day, people will be able to look past their prejudices and accept me for who I am. Just like you two have done for me.”

The fact that they trusted I would listen to them was already evidence enough.

Jeannie and Marie were startled and fumbled for words.

“At first, we were scared because we thought you were a frightening person, Your Highness. We’re so sorry. After cooking together and being with you ourselves… we felt how warm-hearted you are.”

“Thanks to Your Highness, we were happy to make food from our homeland.”

Seeing the fondness in the girls’ eyes, it felt like I’d gained two allies.

Does this mean I’m now two steps closer to the final boss, Massera?

“And Chef Jad really is from Francia.”

Looks like what I said earlier was a large-scale provocation.

***

In the kitchen after Cynthia left.

The servants frowned and murmured among themselves.

“This commoners’ dish shouldn’t be served at the dinner banquet. Officers of common birth would surely be offended.”

“If it’s a dish from Chef Jad’s homeland that he prepared with his utmost effort, I’m sure no one will take offense.”

“Isn’t that what she was aiming for though? To try and take credit for making it herself? No wonder she went out to buy the ingredients personally.”

Just then, Hayden, the tutor who had come to get a snack, noticed the servants’ bitter expressions and asked what was going on.

After hearing the full story, he gave a clear solution.

“Just ruin the dish.”

He pointed at the large pot where the tomato sauce was simmering—the key ingredient for ratatou.