Chapter 63
Chapter 63
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Tomato Preserves Playtime
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While the kitchen staff hurriedly set a pot of water on the fire and started boiling jars, they approached me with kind words.
"Shall we add the tomatoes just like this?"
"Mariella hates tomato skins. They're too tough."
"Boil another pot of water! We need to peel the skins off the tomatoes first!"
Watching these subtly adorable people, I barely held back a laugh.
'Making jarred tomatoes is super simple.'
First, you put the jars in cold water and bring it to a rolling boil to sterilize them.
Then, you fill those jars with lightly blanched tomatoes (skins peeled), the blanching water, and some sugar.
Once everything's in, you boil the jars a bit longer, seal the lids tightly, and you're done!
Tomato pasta is a quick, healthy meal.
In my past life, I'd often make it for my diet, mixing store-bought sauce with my own jarred whole tomatoes.
Thanks to that experience, I finished the tomato jars without a hitch.
"Be careful not to break them, miss."
I clutched one cooled jarred tomato—turned upside down to set the seal—to my chest.
We'd used up a whole basket of tomatoes, scavenging various jars to make a total of five.
I couldn't carry them all, so the kitchen staff took the other four to my room for me.
Dad's inspection of the food supplies would take at least ten more days, right?
'He has to recover the wagons already headed to the frontier territories.'
So, the time I had left was...
I counted on my fingers for a quick calculation, then proudly held up the jar of bright red tomatoes for the nurse to see.
"Nurse, wook!"
"Oh my, what's all this? Looks like tomatoes?"
"Made 'em with the kitchen staff!"
"Really? Was it fun?"
"Yeah!"
The nurse beamed and hugged me. I wrapped my arms tightly around her neck.
"Shiny pwetty."
"It is, isn't it?"
"So pwetty, give some to Yoachim an' Emiri as pwesents."
"You like the young master and lady of the Verben family that much?"
"Yeah. Gwamps nice to Mariella too. Sleep five nights, then go pway?"
"Of course. I'll send an invitation to the Verben family."
By then, the jars should be perfectly flavored.
An infant like me handing them straight to Grandpa wouldn't land right, so I had to go through the one person he trusted most!
The Verben siblings arrived with a small basket of peaches as a guest gift.
Munching on peaches the nurse had peeled for us, we sat on fluffy cushions, chatting away.
"Thanks for inviting us."
"Yeah. But why no main house wessons wately?"
"Family matters."
"What kinda matters?"
Yoachim's older sister, Emily—the next in line after Chairman Grandpa—tucked her hair behind her ear with a prim expression and lowered her voice.
"You won't tell anyone else?"
"Nope?"
"You're good to my little brother, so I'm telling you special. Keep it from Dietrich too?"
What kind of issue had her dragging it out like this?
I nodded, and Emily cautiously spoke up.
"Count Drivair's been visiting our house a lot lately."
"Count Dwivair? Why?"
"I eavesdropped... it sounded like blackmail."
"Bwackmail?"
"He told Grandpa to step down as chairman. Said he'd forgive all of Dad's debts if he did."
Blackmail to step down as chairman?
What would happen then?
Seeing Stefan and Saskia from the Drivair family always trailing Uncle Mark, they were clearly on his side.
"If Gwamps steps down, what happens?"
"Count Drivair wants the council chairman position for himself, even though he's not even a branch of the ducal family."
"He's not bwanch? Then how Stefan an' Saskia do main house wessons?"
"Count Drivair's cousins with the second young master. The late second duchess was his aunt."
That close to Uncle, huh?
No wonder Grandpa wouldn't want to hand the council chair to Count Drivair.
The current Chairman Grandpa was friendly to our house—one of the few relatives on good terms with Dad.
'The debt's the problem...'
Emily's face, prematurely wise from her wastrel father's massive debts before he died, was clouded with worry.
"Grandpa runs the council so diligently. As a branch of the ducal family, he's full of pride."
I stared blankly at Emily's face.
Then, like a baby bored with the topic, I sprang up and stood before the display of ruddy tomato jars.
"Wet's pway house with these!"
"Yay!"
Yoachim, who'd been squirming from boredom, latched onto my suggestion.
"...Fine. I'll play too."
Emily made a prim face but joined us anyway when her brother's eyes lit up.
"Mariella be mommy!"
"Then I'll be daddy!"
"You want me to be the baby?"
Emily looked a bit baffled, but the play-acting had already begun.
I clutched a tomato jar tight and alternated looks between Yoachim as daddy and Emily as baby.
"Baby hungwy?"
"...Wah."
"Mommy got yummy tomatoes! Thanks to these, we suwvive winter!"
I mimicked a commoner mom so convincingly that the watching maids stifled laughs.
"No food 'cause too cowd, wight? The spinach we pwanted froze upside down, dwied fwuit all eaten by us..."
All the ducal maids were commoners.
The smiles slowly faded from some faces. A couple sighed darkly.
People who knew winter hunger.
In this vast but harsh north, commoners who'd starved before didn't hear my words as mere play—they rang true.
Exactly what I wanted.
"Honey, what's that?"
"Tomato jawws. Give to neighbows."
"Tomato jars?"
"Yup. Make wike this, eat all winter wong."
Yoachim and Emily's eyes shifted from me to the jars.
I grinned and tried to twist off a jar in front of them... but couldn't.
It was sealed so tight that my face turned beet red from effort, but the lid wouldn't budge.
"Open fow me..."
I admitted defeat and handed the jar to the nurse.
She held back a laugh, gave it a twist, and pop—the lid opened with a hiss.
The air sound meant the seal was perfect.
Now we could eat it anytime.
"Baby eat fiwst."
"Hold on, miss."
I scooped a tomato with a play-wooden spoon and offered it to Emily when the nurse stepped forward, still fighting a smile.
"Why?"
"These tomato jars have been sitting here for days. You can't just eat tomatoes that were blanched once and left at room temp."
"But smewws good!"
"Still dangerous. Might be spoiled. Give it here. I'll get other snacks."
I looked up at the strict nurse, then popped the tomato into my own mouth.
She gasped and lunged for the spoon, but the soft, skinned tomato already slid down my throat.
The sugar brought out the tomato's flavor even more...
A bit bland, maybe, but perfect for cooking.
"Miss!"
"Tasty! Nurse eat one too!"
I swallowed calmly, so the nurse frowned but scooped and tasted one herself.
Chewing the tomato—no spoiled rot taste at all—her expression gradually relaxed.
Not as fresh as new-picked, but undeniably tomato.
The nurse's skeptical eyes went wide.