My, My. The Outside So Smooth, Yet the Inside So Moist—
After that day, there was one scene Celine could not seem to scrub from her mind.
The sight she had witnessed through the window that night.
Two people seated across a table from each other.
Kyle, gently feeding her, and Victoria accepting every bite like a child—looking happier than anything in the world.
…Just when, exactly?
Celine’s brow tightened.
When had those two grown so close?
When had that razor-edged princess come to wear such an unguarded face in front of Kyle?
Had it only been once, she might have dismissed it as chance.
But looking back—hadn’t she already seen that same princess before? Cheeks puffed out like a squirrel’s, grinning after stuffing herself full of something?
Once could be coincidence. Twice was no longer chance.
…As I thought. There is something between those two.
Celine repeated the thought and steeled herself once more.
Until she uncovered that princess’s true intentions, she could never afford to lower her guard.
…And yet.
Despite that resolute determination, for some reason an entirely different scene kept overlaying itself in her mind.
…That dish—golden and glistening, steam rising in gentle curls. And Victoria’s face, utterly entranced with every bite, as if nothing else in the world could compare.
…Come to think of it, that did look extraordinarily delicious.
Celine found herself recalling the rich aroma from that night.
The warm scent of butter, toasted to a golden brown.
Just breathing it in had been enough to make her mouth water, it had looked so appetizing.
And once that thought took hold, she suddenly found herself wondering what that soft dish might taste like.
…The outside had looked so smooth—how soft must the inside have been?
When you bit into it, how would that warmth melt across your tongue?
I, too… just once… something like that…!
The moment the thought formed, Celine flinched, a shiver running through her.
…N-no. What on earth am I thinking right now?
Celine hurriedly shook her head.
Was this the time to be idly fretting over food?
She bore the weighty duty of protecting Kyle from that perilous princess. To have her heart stolen by a mere dish—what kind of foolishness was this?
Celine tried desperately to shake the thought free.
But the more she tried, the richer that aroma, the softer that dish seemed to dig even more vividly into her mind.
Just one bite… if I could only confirm what it tastes like—
No. Wait. If she thought about it carefully, this was by no means idle gluttony.
Wasn’t it?
To understand why Victoria was so completely captivated by Kyle’s cooking…
To uncover the reason, she herself would naturally have to taste that food at least once.
Yes.
This was, above all else, an extremely important and entirely legitimate part of her investigation into the relationship between those two.
…Yes. That’s exactly it.
Having found herself a plausible justification, Celine nodded with a strangely relieved expression.
Then she rose from her seat at once.
As it happened, she had a few documents that needed Kyle’s approval anyway.
So this was merely… conducting her investigation while she was already on her way for work. Nothing more.
…Yes. Strictly for work.
Celine repeated the mantra again and again as she headed toward Kyle’s office.
She carefully ignored the fact that her steps felt somehow lighter—and more fluttering—than usual.
I was wrestling with paperwork in my office as usual when Celine came by.
“Commander. I’ve brought the documents that require your approval.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you. Just leave them there—I’ll look them over.”
I answered without much thought and went back to my pen.
And yet, for some reason, even after setting the papers down, Celine showed no sign of leaving.
…Hm? Why isn’t she going?
When I glanced up, she was standing there, fidgeting, looking as though she had something to say.
“Um… Commander.”
“Yes. What is it?”
“That is… last night. Did you… happen to eat something?”
“…Pardon?”
What kind of question was that out of nowhere? Why would the deputy commander, of all people, care what I ate last night?
“Ah, well. Yesterday I just whipped up a simple omelet.”
“An omelet. Ah… I see.”
Celine’s eyes seemed to sparkle. She stared at me with a face full of expectation.
“I’ve heard that omelet of yours is… quite exceptional.”
“…Pardon? Ah, well. It’s just decent enough to eat.”
“Not at all. The rumors are everywhere. That your cooking skill is… well. On par with any proper chef.”
“…You’re too kind. It’s only a little hobby.”
Even as I said it, though, a chill ran through me.
Rumors were everywhere? That couldn’t be.
Hadn’t I carefully hidden this cooking hobby all this time, never letting a soul catch on?
I had planned to leave this Imperial Palace someday and open a quiet little restaurant out in the countryside. That skill alone I had never carelessly revealed.
So how on earth had word gotten out?
…S-surely not.
One face sprang unbidden to mind.
Someone who knew my cooking. Someone who would absolutely go around blabbing about it.
Victoria.
…Th-that princess has been spreading word about my cooking?!
A shiver crawled down my spine.
Thinking about it, she was more than capable of such a thing.
Even at the festival, she had reported every last one of my achievements to the Emperor and successfully locked me into this palace.
And now she was broadcasting my cooking skills to the world—clearly an attempt to pin me down even more thoroughly.
…Terrifying as ever. That villainess.
I shuddered despite myself.
“That… omelet. What does it taste like, exactly? How is the outside, and… the inside…?”
Celine kept circling around the subject of that dish. She kept stealing glances at me, her eyes shining with something that looked an awful lot like desperate hope.
“And… if you should ever… happen to make something like that again… then, um… as your deputy commander, I… nearby, I could perhaps…”
I was starting to get nervous.
…W-what is this atmosphere?
Last night’s late-night snack this, my cooking skill that—Celine kept orbiting the same topic, and I couldn’t begin to grasp what she was driving at.
But as I thought it through carefully, one possibility seemed to fit.
…S-surely not. Could it be…?
Was she trying to verify, meal by meal, what I had eaten last night? In other words—checking whether I had been casually snacking while on duty… monitoring me…
…Gah! That’s it!
Everything clicked into place at once.
…There’s a mountain of work, and food still goes down your throat? Instead of idly tending to your meals, do your job—!
Wasn’t that the unspoken pressure she was applying?
And just now she had said something about “if you make it again… nearby…”
That was surely a terrifying declaration that she intended to stand right by my side with her eyes peeled, making sure I never got distracted by cooking again.
I went dizzy.
No matter what—don’t even eat, just work? That was going a bit far, wasn’t it? How was a person supposed to survive without putting anything in their mouth?
But under that razor-sharp gaze of hers, I couldn’t even begin to voice such a protest.
“Uh… Deputy Commander. I… that is… I was shortsighted.”
“…Pardon?”
“From now on, I’ll… keep my meals as simple as possible, so long as it doesn’t interfere with duty. No—if it comes to it… during work hours, I simply won’t put anything in my mouth at all.”
“W-wait a moment, Commander. That’s not—”
“Ah, don’t worry! Work comes first, of course. From now on, even if I have to get by on a single sip of water, I’ll devote myself fully to my duties. So please… put aside your anger…”
“N-no! That is absolutely not what I meant!”
Celine waved her hands in a sudden panic.
Her face had gone bright red. She couldn’t seem to get another word out, and instead just stamped her feet in place.
“Th-that is… what I meant was… not that… um… no. Never mind. Forget it.”
In the end, Celine pressed her lips shut as though swallowing something back. Then, face flushed red and pale by turns, she started fiddling with the stack of documents for no good reason.
…Huh? Was I wrong?
I was thoroughly confused all over again.
I had been so sure she was telling me not to eat and just work.
So what on earth was that beet-red face supposed to mean?
She looked angry, and somehow wronged at the same time.
…Ah. I’ll never understand her. This deputy commander, really.
I could only blink blankly and scratch at the back of my head.
“…Your Highness. You summoned me?”
Assuming it must be some secret order regarding the great cause, the Crow bowed its head with due formality.
“Yes. You see, that omelet the man made for me—”
“…Again with the food talk, Your Highness?”
“My, my. The outside so smooth, yet the inside so moist—”
…Again. For the past few days, every time Her Highness called for the Crow, it was nothing but praise for whatever the Sword of the Emperor had cooked.
“…And the reason you are telling this to me would be…?”
“I simply wanted to boast. It would be a waste for only me to know of such splendid skill, don’t you think?”
Only then did the Crow understand.
The rumor spreading through the Imperial Palace of late—that the Sword of the Emperor was skilled at cooking. Its source had been none other than this very chamber.
“So listen carefully. As for that roast chicken of his—”
“…Yes. Yes, Your Highness…”
Aigoo. Here we go again…
The Crow could only let out a quiet sigh.