3. Duilstar Count (2)
“A banquet? For me?”
“Yes, that's correct.”
“And they want me to bring bread I made myself?”
“...Yes.”
Rina bowed as she relayed the message. Bread was something I made all the time, so that was fine, but being summoned to the banquet hall in person wasn't an everyday occurrence. Father and I had been awkward around each other for years now. It had to be either something important he needed to tell me or something he wanted to ask. In this case, the latter seemed more likely.
Which meant...
“You said there were pistachios in the warehouse. Could you fetch some?”
“Pistachios? Understood.”
I sent Hanila to get the pistachios, then gathered basic ingredients from the kitchen myself. Wine, honey, cheese, flour, salt, olive oil, and so on. The staples used in everyday cooking.
“Young master, why did you order the pistachios brought?”
“I'm making a dessert with pistachios.”
“...A dessert with pistachios?”
Doubt flickered across Rina's face.
No wonder. Here, pistachios were just export snacks or long-term rations.
Duilstar County had volcanic soil that made farming thrive. Wheat and pistachios were said to grow especially well. People usually ate them raw or ground into powder for soups, but...
What if I made a delicious dessert with these pistachios?
What if I popularized a new dessert and boosted pistachio exports?
It wasn't a pipe dream. The dessert I was about to make was a national snack in one country.
“You can look forward to it.”
I grinned at the sack of pistachios Hanila had brought.
The dessert I was making was cannoli, the Italian treat originating from Sicily.
* * *
“His Excellency the Count has already entered the banquet hall.”
“...Hoo, got it. Open the door.”
“Yes.”
The door creaked open.
My eyes met those of the middle-aged man seated at the head of the long table.
Blond hair like mine, and sharp eyes scanning me from head to toe.
This was Theodor von Duilstar, the lord of this mansion.
“You chased out the baker from the Ducal House?”
“......”
“Causing trouble every time I'm away is a talent in itself.”
His sharp sarcasm already made it hard to breathe.
Was this what a father said to his son after just a week apart?
No wonder Taylor turned into such a wastrel.
I didn't bother responding and just took my seat.
There was only one empty spot, so it wasn't hard to find.
Sitting across from the Countess felt a bit awkward, though.
“Why do you crush our son's spirit the moment he arrives?”
“Should I care about a wastrel like him?”
“Enough. Son, eat your meal.”
“...Yes.”
A strict father and an indulgent mother.
It was the perfect environment for a wastrel son to emerge. To Count Theodor, I probably looked more pathetic than even my little sister.
I glanced sideways and saw a girl picking at her food.
Romain von Duilstar, my sister six years younger.
The moment I saw her, my heart seemed to freeze.
She's... definitely pretty.
At fourteen, my sister was just starting to bloom into true beauty.
Her straight bob of blond hair and somewhat expressionless face evoked the image of a cold beauty in her youth.
As I stared at her silently, Romain's emotionless eyes turned to me.
She stared back blankly for a moment, as if I were strange.
But her gaze soon returned to her plate.
Well, siblings weren't close in the medieval era or the modern world.
I turned back to my meal.
Even in the medieval era, a count's table couldn't be anything less than delicious. The atmosphere remained somewhat chilly for a family dinner, until—
“Pardon the interruption, Your Excellency. We've brought a special dessert today.”
“A special dessert?”
“Yes.”
Head chef Marco appeared with a smile, placing a long platter dramatically on the table.
Inside were clusters of elongated desserts about the size of my palm.
That's cannoli right there.
Cannoli were tube- or pipe-shaped pastries with crispy shells stuffed full of cream. They could be seen as similar to crepes, but crepes were soft and fan-shaped.
“What... is this? Marco, I've never seen a dessert like it.”
“The young master made it himself after reading a book.”
“Taylor did?”
The count's face twisted as if he'd heard something absurd.
Whatever I said would just earn more sarcasm, so I shrugged.
It was my mother, the Countess, who spoke up for me.
“Oh my, Taylor. You made a dessert for us yourself... This mother is so happy.”
“It's nothing special.”
“As the boy says. Servienne, don't overhype something so trivial. He must have an ulterior motive.”
Father's cold gaze hadn't softened.
What the hell had Taylor done to make his father this icy?
“I've never seen a dessert look so casual. The filling is spilling out.”
“Isn't the generous portion a good thing?”
“...Tch. Can't even talk right.”
He glared at my response, clearly unimpressed. I was starting to get used to Father's piercing looks. It was proof I was overcoming Taylor's ingrained fear.
In the awkward silence, Marco cleared his throat and served the cannoli to each plate.
“Taylor, how should I eat it? Tell this mother.”
“Hold the middle and eat from whichever end is comfortable.”
I demonstrated by taking a bite from one. Crunch! The dough, toughened with lard and wine, shattered like a cookie against my teeth. I'd adjusted the thickness perfectly—not too hard. Breaking through the crisp, cookie-like shell revealed the cheese filling inside.
...Ricotta cheese it is.
The filling was ricotta-based. Sweetened lightly with honey and textured with chopped pistachios for that perfect finish. Normally, I'd top it with chocolate or fruit, but without those, it was plain cannoli—and still delicious enough.
Having shown the way, it was Father's turn.
“Try it, Father.”
“...I'll take one bite to appreciate your effort.”
“Thank you.”
“Tch.”
Apparently displeased by my straightforward reply, Theodor grimaced. He sliced a cannoli in half with his knife and popped it into his mouth. I watched intently.
The moment my cannoli touched his tongue—
“...!”
Theodor's eyes widened.
The crunch was loud enough to reach my ears. Of course—the crisp shell and packed filling were cannoli's essence.
He can't say it's bad.
I smiled as I watched him.
“How is it, Father? To your taste?”
“......You made this?”
“Yes, from start to finish. The baker just assisted.”
Theodor's gaze shifted to Marco, as if seeking confirmation.
Marco gave a wry smile and nodded.
“That's right. As you know, our baker was recently replaced with an apprentice... And even he just assisted from the side.”
“Hah...”
Father polished off one cannoli in an instant, and only then did Mother and my sister tentatively try theirs.
“Oh my, Taylor! This dessert is so delicious.”
Servienne placed a hand on her cheek, beaming with joy.
Her happiness was contagious.
A pleased smile crept onto my lips too.
“There's plenty, so eat as much as you like.”
“Thank you. Is that pistachio inside?”
“Yes, our territory's specialty.”
“Oh my, what a wonderful idea. Soft bread for dessert is nice, but this crunchy exterior filled with creamy goodness... It makes me so happy.”
“I'm glad you're enjoying it.”
“Look at him! Our son has finally grown up. He seems like a different person, doesn't he?”
I smiled sheepishly under Servienne's honeyed gaze.
Should I take that as a compliment...?
Awkwardly averting my eyes, I noticed Romain.
She looked a bit different from before.
“Your cheeks...?”
“......”
Romain's cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk's.
Looking closer, the cannoli from her plate was gone.
Did she shove the whole piece in her mouth?
It was a bit big for a kid to manage in one bite...
“Romain, is it that good?”
“......”
She nodded vigorously.
Her mouth was too full to speak.
I chuckled and wiped the cream cheese from her mouth with a napkin.
“There's plenty, so take your time. Marco! Add another cannoli to Romain's plate.”
“Yes! Right away.”
“Oh, I'm jealous. Can this mother have another piece too?”
“Of course.”
As the two took another piece each, only one cannoli remained. Theodor, who had been elegantly slicing his, subtly raised a hand.
“Marco, sorry, but I'd like one too—”
“Didn't you say just one bite, Father?”
“......”
“You said one piece to honor my effort.”
Theodor froze at my reminder.
His intense stare was intimidating.
But I met his eyes without flinching.
“If you admit it's good, you can have another.”
“......”
“Just say it's delicious.”
I might not get him to accept anything else.
Not Taylor's wastrel ways, his rude behavior, or the karma he'd built up.
All that had forged this cold Theodor.
But he couldn't dismiss a dessert I'd made with my own hands as bad.
I turned to Marco instead.
“Looks like it's not to Father's taste. Just put the last one on my—”
“...It was.”
“Pardon?”
“It was... ahem, delicious.”
Father cleared his throat and looked away.
But he nudged his plate forward with one hand, signaling for more.
I laughed at the sight.
“My mistake. It suits your taste after all. Marco?”
“Yes, one for His Excellency too.”
“Thanks.”
“......”
For a while, the banquet hall filled only with the crunch of cannoli and the clink of silverware.
After everyone finished eating.
“Father, I have something to discuss.”
“...You, with me?”
A hint of ease entered Father's gaze as he looked at me. Before the meal, he might have sneered, ‘What, begging for allowance again?’ But not now.
Food's power was truly great. I brought up the real reason I'd prepared the cannoli.
“About pistachio farming... and exports.”
“Hm... Come to my study.”
To make even tastier, more varied breads, the territory needed to grow richer first.