Chapter 41: Spring Arrives
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 41: Spring Arrives
The room was so thick with a sweet aroma that my mouth watered involuntarily.
I had asked the chef to come up with some desserts suitable for a tea time, but it occurred to me now that a request from a mistress he had never even met might have been quite a burden.
I felt a pang of guilt.
“Did I put too much pressure on him?”
“Whatever do you mean, Your Highness?”
Berni’s face was flushed with excitement, his eyes sparkling.
“Since coming to Blenheim, I’ve never felt this fired up. Finally, a chance to truly show my skills...!”
“To truly show your skills?”
I tilted my head, puzzled by his words.
“Don’t you prepare meals for the Grand Duke and me every day?”
“Well, that is true, but...”
Berni glanced at me tentatively before speaking up.
“Until now, I’ve never had the chance to properly present my cooking to either of you outside of basic meals. Since Your Highness arrived, we’ve been serving formal dinners, but when the Grand Duke was alone, his meals were always prepared very simply.”
At those words, I recalled how the Grand Duke acted during our meals together.
Indeed, I couldn't remember him having any reaction other than expressionlessly chewing and swallowing his food.
“Is His Grace a picky eater?”
“It’s not that; he simply has no interest in food at all.”
My question seemed to trigger something in Berni; his thick jaw trembled. He spoke with a tone that seemed to suppress a deep sense of sorrow.
“When I first arrived at the castle and asked His Grace what foods he liked, he told me anything that could be eaten quickly would do. At first, I thought he was joking.”
“You, mind your tongue in front of Her Highness.”
Whitley, who had escorted Berni into the room, spoke up while glancing at him. It felt less like a formal reprimand and more like a colleague scolding a tactless friend.
“It’s alright, let him be. It sounds like you’ve had a difficult time.”
I could understand why the chef was so emotional.
Anything that can be eaten quickly?
How could you say that to a chef!
“As expected, Your Highness understands my heart!”
At my defense, the dam seemed to break, and Berni’s words came pouring out.
“The Grand Duke almost never comes to the dining hall. He usually makes do with a sandwich in his office. No matter how much heart and soul I put into the cooking, there’s no one to appreciate it...”
The cooks standing behind the red-faced chef nodded in silent agreement. It seemed they all had a lot of pent-up frustration.
Come to think of it, they did say he didn't even eat breakfast until I arrived.
“Ahem.”
Whitley gave a small, dry cough. It was a warning to wrap it up.
Realizing his venting had gone a bit too far, Berni hastily cleared his throat.
“St-still, since Your Highness arrived, the Grand Duke has changed a lot. Most importantly, for the first time in three years, he gave a direct order to the kitchen.”
“The Grand Duke did?”
Berni’s eyes widened in surprise, as if he couldn't believe I didn't know.
“He told us to put plenty of fruit in the desserts. I assumed it was a request from Your Highness...”
“From me?”
Had I ever made such a request to the Grand Duke?
As I searched my memory, Whitley added calmly, “You mentioned before that you liked fruit... I believe His Grace gave the kitchen special instructions because of that.”
The Grand Duke said that? Because of me?
— “Do you like cake?”
— “I like the strawberries more than the cake itself. I’ve always loved fruit.”
Only then did the conversation I’d had with him vaguely come back to me.
Now that I thought about it, at some point, every dessert had started coming out overflowing with fruit. I had just assumed the inland roads had opened up and the fruit supply had improved.
Wait, why is he being so sweet?
To think he’s been doing such adorable things behind my back. If it were me, I would have bragged about giving those orders at least a hundred times by now.
I swallowed a grin, feeling my pride as the Grand Duchess swell.
“Thanks to that, tea time has become very enjoyable.”
Perhaps he had been starved for praise, for Berni clasped his hands together, his eyes turning misty.
“You have no idea how happy I was to hear that you were hosting a tea time.”
I suppose he must have had high expectations when he took the title of Head Chef of the Grand Ducal Household.
Yet, this was a place where not a single banquet was held all year, and noblewomen never had reason to set foot in the castle.
Even his only customer, the Grand Duke, had no interest in food. As a chef, he must have felt like he’d been scammed during the hiring process.
“There will be much more to do from now on, so I’m counting on you.”
“I will never disappoint you!”
I let out a soft chuckle at his excited tone, which didn't match his burly physique at all.
“First, we must make this tea time a success. What is your top recommendation from these?”
At that, Berni began to explain each menu item with a face full of ambition.
“This one contains syrup, so it pairs well with a clear tea without milk. The chocolate cake might get on one's lips, so I made the portions small...”
In conclusion, the desserts Berni had prepared were excellent in both taste and appearance.
In fact, they were all so good that it was difficult to narrow them down.
“...Among the cookies, I think these two are good. Oh, it would be a shame to leave this one out, too.”
I spent a long time trying to choose, but the table was still covered in plates.
“I’d like to serve everything I’ve picked... but will there be enough room on the table?”
“Since the guests will likely take small portions anyway, we can reduce the quantity on each plate and increase the variety, but...”
Berni, pondering my words, asked, “How many people will be attending the tea time?”
“Nine, including myself.”
“That is quite a large number.”
“We’ll need to put out at least two plates of each variety,” Whitley chimed in. “The table is quite long, so if there’s only one plate of each, it will be difficult for those further away to reach the refreshments.”
“That’s not good.”
It was already going to be an awkward gathering where everyone had to mind their manners.
Just imagining the young ladies awkwardly half-standing from their seats to reach a cake in the distance made me uncomfortable.
Everyone already knew the tea time was essentially an interview.
Since it was unlikely to be a perfectly harmonious occasion from the start, I at least wanted the ladies to be able to enjoy the refreshments comfortably.
Back when I was going through job interviews, meals with the CEO were always the most uncomfortable.
But back then, we each had our own lunch boxes, so there was no pressure to reach for food.
Wait!
There’s no rule saying refreshments have to be shared at a tea time, right?
A sudden thought struck me, and I clapped my hands, looking at Berni.
“We should prepare the tea time as individual sets.”
“Individual sets?”
At those words, Berni and Whitley both turned to me with puzzled expressions.
*
It was the day of the administrative meeting.
Perel, who was walking down the outer corridor following Loik, suddenly slapped his forehead as he realized he had left an important document behind.
“Ah! Your Grace, I believe I forgot the merchant guild’s transit permit.”
Perel confessed his sin in a small, shrinking voice.
The Grand Duke wasn't the type to nag in situations like this. He would simply give a pathetic, soul-crushing look that made one feel a deep sense of self-loathing.
However, when Perel looked up, Loik’s gaze wasn't on him, but directed toward the garden beyond the corridor.
Is someone in the garden?
His superior’s voice drifted over, unusually soft.
“Go get it.”
“...Pardon?”
It was a voice devoid of any reprimand—it was almost gentle. Perel’s shoulders flinched.
“I said go get it. I’ll wait here.”
Loik’s gaze remained fixed on the garden.
“N-no, Your Grace.”
A suddenly kind master was terrifying.
“If you go ahead, I’ll be there in a—”
“It’s fine.”
Loik finally turned to Perel, his voice now carrying the weight of a command.
“Take your time.”
“I-I’ll be right back!”
Seeing Loik wave him off with a smooth gesture, Perel bolted back toward the office desk.
Is it in the drawer?
In his haste, his fumbling hands accidentally opened the bottom drawer. It was the compartment where the Grand Duke kept his personal items.
As soon as the drawer opened, a strangely sweet scent wafted out.
And then, Perel saw it.
Everything that had previously been in the drawer had been cleared out, replaced by white wrapping paper, ribbons, and name cards, all neatly organized and carefully preserved.
What is this?
Perel’s eyes widened as he stared blankly.
Could this be the wrapping from the handkerchief the Grand Duchess had gifted him?
To think he’s even cherishing the ribbons.
He knew that lately, his master had been visiting his wife much more frequently. Especially after the Grand Duchess had collapsed, he seemed to be looking after her with particular care.
It seemed far too proactive to be motivated by mere political interest.
Of course, Her Highness the Consort was certainly someone anyone would find hard to dislike.
Is she truly opening the heart of my master, the coldest and most stoic man in the world?
Perel returned to the corridor with a strange feeling in his chest.
His superior, who said he would wait, was nowhere to be seen.
Did he go to the meeting hall first after all?
He was about to hurry along when a cheerful voice drifted in from the outer garden.
“Did you really say that to the chef?”
Could it be...?
Perel walked slowly toward the sound.
At an outdoor table in the small garden, the Grand Duchess was having tea.
And the owner of the massive frame sitting across from her was the Grand Duke.
“What do you mean, ‘anything that can be eaten quickly’?”
“Well, I don’t quite remember...”
“The knights said so too. They said Your Grace chews everything as if you’re eating dry twigs.”
“I simply don’t have any particular preferences.”
“Then what is a food you actually like?”
“I... like fruit.”
“Really?”
Perel watched the scene, dazed.
The sight of his master conversing with the Grand Duchess was utterly foreign.
Has the Grand Duke ever responded to someone’s words so tenderly?
Loik was looking at his wife as if he were beholding the loveliest creature in the world.
It was, without a doubt, the eyes of a man in love.