Chapter 25: The Squirrel Tasting Ratatouille
After wrapping up at the market, we returned to my quarters together.
...To be precise, it wasn't so much that I brought her along as she followed me of her own accord.
"Well then. Shall we get started on the cooking?"
I rolled up my sleeves and laid out the vegetables I'd bought on the cutting board.
Victoria, standing beside me, suddenly spoke up.
"...This body shall lend a hand as well."
"...Pardon?"
I nearly dropped the eggplant in my hand.
"...N-No, Your Highness. How could I possibly ask the Imperial Princess to do such a thing? Please, just sit and relax. I'll handle the cooking—"
"...Enough. This body has said it will help—what need is there for so many words?"
Victoria had already rolled up her own sleeves.
...No, that wasn't the issue at all.
...Think about it. The princess of an entire empire wielding a kitchen knife?
If that delicate hand of hers got even a scratch, the blame would fall squarely on me. Just imagining it sent chills down my spine.
"...Y-Your Highness. If you insist, then perhaps just watch from the side—"
"...Hush."
Victoria cut me off firmly.
Then, with a slightly pouty expression, she murmured softly.
"...This body merely wishes to do something together with you. ...Is even that not permitted?"
...When she put it like that...
...I found myself at a loss for words.
Seeing the haughty princess looking so downcast, I couldn't bring myself to refuse her outright.
"...Sigh. Very well. Then, I'll ask you to handle something simple."
"...There we go. It took you long enough."
Only then did Victoria's face brighten radiantly.
...What an impossible woman.
I let out a deep sigh and decided to assign her the easiest task.
"Alright, could you slice this eggplant into bite-sized pieces? Not too thin, not too thick—just right."
"...Child's play for this body."
...But.
"...Hm. Ngh."
Victoria gripped the knife handle awkwardly, fumbling with stiff movements.
...As expected.
She'd boasted so proudly, but it seemed she'd never properly held a knife in her life.
Her hand pressing down on the eggplant trembled precariously, and the blade kept slipping off at odd angles.
...She was going to cut herself at this rate.
"...Hold on. Your Highness, if you keep doing it like that, you'll hurt your hand."
I hurried to her side.
"...Even this body has practiced a little, you know."
...Practiced?
"...W-Well. In case... someday... I might make something for you. I secretly... learned to handle a knife."
She pursed her lips, looking somewhat indignant.
"...Yet why won't it go as I intend?"
I was left speechless.
...So this woman had secretly practiced knife skills just for me? In case she ever wanted to cook something for me someday.
...That sentiment tickled a corner of my heart more than the uneven eggplant chunks ever could.
"...Hold your hand like a cat's paw, fingers curled slightly under the ingredient, and guide the knife slowly—"
Before I knew it, I'd gently placed my hand over the back of hers.
"...!"
In that instant, Victoria's shoulders flinched.
...And only then did I realize what I'd done—I was holding her hand.
...The small, warm sensation of her skin transmitted vividly through my palm.
"......"
"......"
...We both froze, neither of us moving first.
An awkward silence settled over the kitchen.
Only the gentle bubbling of the pot filled the quiet faintly.
...Thump, thump, thump.
...Why was my heart acting up again?
I snapped back to my senses and hastily pulled my hand away.
"...S-Sorry. I was just trying to show you the motion, and I—"
"—N-No. This body was trying to learn as well."
Victoria's voice trembled faintly, unlike her usual tone.
I pretended not to notice the flush at the tips of her ears.
...After that flurry of chaos, we resumed cooking in an even more awkward silence.
I took the vegetables she'd clumsily but earnestly sliced and stir-fried them one by one in a pan coated with olive oil.
Eggplant first, then zucchini.
I combined them all into the simmered tomato sauce and let it stew gently.
Soon, the aroma of vegetables and tomatoes filled the quarters fragrantly.
"...There. It's done."
I carefully plated the finished ratatouille.
Colorful vegetables mingled enticingly atop the deep red sauce.
Though some pieces bore Victoria's unmistakable handiwork in their irregular shapes.
...For some reason, staring at those crooked chunks made me chuckle involuntarily.
...Right. I never would've ended up with shapes like this if I'd been alone.
The image of that haughty princess earnestly fumbling with the knife was captured perfectly in this one dish.
"...Why are you laughing?"
Victoria stared at me intently.
"...Oh, nothing."
I looked up—and met her eyes.
...In that moment, a faint smile just like mine had spread across her lips.
...What an odd thing.
We'd only chopped and stir-fried a few vegetables together.
Yet there we were, smiling at each other as if by some unspoken agreement, for a good while.
...I had a feeling I knew why, without needing to ask.
"...Here, have a taste. We made it together."
Kyle set the steaming bowl before me.
...We made it together.
Those words made my chest tingle oddly.
Though all I'd done was clumsily slice a few vegetables.
Still, knowing my touch was in this dish made it feel more precious than any delicacy.
Colorful vegetables mingled enticingly atop the deep red sauce.
The fragrant, deep aroma wafting to my nose...
...Gulp.
I swallowed without thinking.
...Ahem. Ahem. I mustn't seem too eager.
I composed myself into a dignified posture and elegantly lifted the spoon.
I scooped up eggplant, zucchini, and tomato sauce together and brought it carefully to my lips.
...That instant.
...!
My eyes widened like saucers.
W-What is this...
The eggplant melted tenderly the moment it touched my tongue.
Sweet-tangy tomato essence burst from its soft flesh.
The zucchini had a crisp bite, the bell pepper a satisfying crunch—each vegetable's unique texture danced delightfully in my mouth.
...And above all.
Not a scrap of meat, yet how could it taste so deep and hearty?
The long-simmered vegetables embraced each other's flavors, blooming into a rich umami that filled my mouth profoundly.
Delicious.
So, so delicious.
...No, wait. I mustn't make a fuss like last time.
With that boeuf bourguignon before...
I'd lost all composure in praise and embarrassed myself before this man.
I couldn't repeat the mistake.
...Right. This time, one elegant bite, a composed evaluation.
"...It's... quite decent."
I said it coolly, feigning indifference.
Perfect. Dignified and restrained—a flawless critique.
...But.
For some reason...
Even as my mouth spoke those words, my hand with the spoon was already heading back to the bowl.
Scoop.
...One more bite.
Just to evaluate more precisely.
How could one bite capture such depth?
A couple more for fairness.
Scoop. Scoop.
Another bite.
And another.
...Mm! Who knew eggplant could be this tender.
My spoon wouldn't stop.
My mouth feigned nonchalance with "quite decent," but my hand honestly shuttled between bowl and lips without pause.
Before long, my cheeks bulged full of food.
Like a squirrel stuffing acorns, I chewed busily.
I thought I was savoring elegantly... but the sight was far from imperial poise.
"...Y-Your Highness. Please eat slowly. You'll get indigestion."
"...Mmph. Hm. W-What nonsense. This body is merely... savoring calmly to judge properly."
With cheeks puffed out, I mustered dignity for the retort—but the slurred words betrayed me.
...Then, suddenly.
A particularly crooked eggplant chunk clung to the spoon's tip.
...Ah.
...This is.
Undoubtedly the one I'd clumsily sliced with such effort.
It stood out amid the neat pieces, unmistakably misshapen.
...Hee hee.
For some reason, that ugly chunk felt utterly endearing.
...Yes. This piece bears my touch. Proof that we made this dish together, shape be damned.
I carefully brought the crooked slice to my mouth.
...Somehow, it tasted far better than the others.
...Truly strange.
Just a humble bowl of common vegetables.
Yet it filled my heart more than any imperial feast.
"...More. Is there... more?"
I gazed at my empty bowl and murmured softly.
"...Pardon?"
"...I-I mean. To finish evaluating... I need to taste a bit more."
I offered a lame excuse and stealthily slid the empty bowl toward him.
Kyle chuckled softly and refilled it generously without a word.
"...Eat slowly. There's plenty left."
"...Hmph. W-Who said I'm eating fast?"
Even as I huffed, my spoon dove back in, busier than anyone's.
That day.
Victoria von Roseria tasted the meal she'd helped make with the happiest face imaginable, cheeks stuffed to bursting.
Of course, she looked less like the princess of the realm and more like a chipmunk with overflowing pouches.
...A fact only she remained blissfully unaware of.