Chapter 4
Chapter 4
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Winning Over the Marquis
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The heavy door of the royal kitchen slammed shut, and Father's legs buckled.
"Hoo..."
"Ah, Father!"
I quickly supported his arm.
The great Court Count Del BlackStone, his legs giving out. The man who'd lived his whole life by principle had clearly exhausted himself trying to... persuade—no, con—a stubborn artisan.
Father wiped away his cold sweat and stared at me with dazed eyes.
It was the look of someone observing a bizarre new species for the first time.
"Leban."
"Yes, Father."
"Where on earth did you learn to talk like that? Melting down the bullheaded Sir James with just a few words. In my whole life, I've never seen that old man persuaded so easily."
Father's face was one of genuine shock.
No wonder. We'd expected the craftsman, who preached that "cooking is sacred," to blow up in anger. Instead, his eyes sparkled as he grabbed my hand.
I shrugged nonchalantly.
"I didn't learn it anywhere. It's just... Sir James recognized my sincerity, right?"
Of course, it was sincere.
I'd just hidden my personal motives a tiny bit.
Back in my dark grad school days.
"Professor, this project is a paradigm shift for academia!" became
"Sir James, this cooking contest is an epic that elevates the royal dignity!"
Whether a picky professor or a stubborn chef, it was the same. Say what they most want to hear, wrapped in the most plausible packaging.
That was the essence of persuasion, wasn't it?
Father shook his head, still incredulous.
"Anyway, we've crossed the hardest mountain, so the rest should be smooth sailing."
"No. This is just the beginning."
I pulled out the parchment scroll I'd prepared from my bosom and unfurled it with a rustle.
It was densely packed with names, starting with Sir James—the future sacrifices... er, collaborators in my grand plan.
"Sir James handles expertise. But... for this contest to succeed, we need more."
I pointed to each item on the parchment with my fingertip, reciting them one by one.
"Authority. Technology. Entertainment. And capital."
"Capital..."
Hearing Father's uncertain murmur trail off, I flashed a mischievous smile.
"Our family vault isn't exactly overflowing, is it?"
Father's face flushed a bit.
It was understandable.
Our family, which prized integrity and frugality as virtues, earned much respect... but the vault was always emptily echoing.
Respect didn't fill purses, after all.
At least Mother's baronet family owned a major port, so we'd rarely faced money troubles.
Father cleared his throat a few times, then added with a resolute expression.
"Ahem, don't worry. Your father will scrape together the funds somehow..."
"Come on, Father. Why should we spend our own money?"
I grinned slyly and tapped the boldly written name at the top of the parchment: Marquis Frederick.
"Broadcasts aren't made with your own cash. You bring in a sponsor... I mean, an investor."
**
Recruiting the second judge was as easy as breathing.
The target: Marquis Frederick, the mage rumored to be the kingdom's top gourmet.
He was the polar opposite of the rigid artisan Sir James.
A man with a strong urge to show off, who pathologically craved recognition from others, and above all, couldn't resist the latest trends.
I went straight to him, skipping all the fluff, and dropped just one line.
"We're holding the largest cooking contest in history. And Marquis Frederick, you are absolutely essential as a judge."
"Hmm?"
"For the grandest contest, the judge must be the grandest. We can't entrust it to anyone less than the man with the kingdom's finest palate. If it were a place where just anyone could judge tastes, I wouldn't dare steal Your Excellency's precious time."
Marquis Frederick fiddled with his trademark bushy mustache, pretending to ponder... but I could clearly see it.
His lips twitching in delight, his desire for recognition fully satisfied.
At that point, recruitment was as good as done.
"Hm, and James is participating?"
"Yes. But Sir James... he's a brilliant chef, but his gourmet credentials are unproven. He can only evaluate cooking techniques."
I clasped my hands and sent him an earnest gaze.
"We need a noble discernment to judge the true beauty of flavors! In this kingdom, who else but Your Excellency could sit in that seat?"
The phrase "noble discernment" must have struck home.
His lips were now unmistakably curved skyward.
Before we exchanged many words, he slapped his knee and accepted gladly.
"Fine! If it's a seat to teach contestants what true gourmet dining is, no one is more fitting than I. Of course!"
He nodded with a hearty laugh.
"Young Master BlackStone has an eye for people! Hahaha!"
He'd bitten the hook. I inwardly cheered and slyly brought out my real goal.
"However... Your Excellency."
"Hm? Something more?"
"Your brilliant, incisive gourmet critiques... isn't it a shame to let only me and the contestants hear them?"
"Well... yes. It's always a pity that only a few nobles dining with me get to hear my wisdom."
"Then... what if we made your noble discernment and critiques visible to far more people?"
"Hmm?"
Marquis Frederick's eyes sparkled with curiosity.
The image of himself seated as judge, elegantly appraising dishes, spreading to every corner of the kingdom?
It thrilled him just imagining it.
"Tell me more in detail."
I unfurled the blueprint as if I'd been waiting.
"We'll package this contest extravagantly in the royal name. And at the forefront stands Your Excellency. It might even go down in history books. As the 'great noble who set the standard for gourmet tastes.'"
My name, in history?
His face lit up so brightly at my words, it seemed to radiate light for a moment.
Unable to hold back any longer, he sprang up and clapped my shoulder vigorously.
"Hahaha! What a brilliant idea! As expected of young blood—such extraordinary thinking!"
"You're too kind. But... there's one issue."
"Issue? What's lacking? If it's money, I'll sponsor it!"
Nice. Sponsor secured.
But something far more important remained.
"Money aside... the technology for filming and broadcasting those images is the problem. We need to hire mages and acquire magitech devices... but there are no reliable magitech artisans."
At my concern, Marquis Frederick laughed heartily, as if it were nothing.
"Ah, don't worry about that! My daughter happens to be quite skilled in magitech fabrication."
"Your daughter...?"
"Yes! Lucia. She refuses all marriage proposals and holes up in her workshop tinkering away. Always making some strange contraption."
Lucia Frederick...
I'd heard the name.
A talent who'd graduated second in her class at the Academy.
But she was more famous for her stunning beauty than her skills.
From the rumors, so many male students sent her letters during Academy days that paper prices in the capital spiked temporarily.
"Her skills are solid, so she can certainly produce enough of those 'filming' magitech devices you want. And you need mages? I'll send a few sharp disciples of mine—no worries at all!"
Bingo!
Tech support secured too. Practically for free.
Well, not entirely free—we'd need to return the favor befitting BlackStone's reputation... but far cheaper than formal hires.
I bowed ninety degrees, expressing gratitude to my patron.
"I am at a loss for how to repay Your Excellency's full support."
Then, lifting my head, I added the decisive flattery.
"Soon, the title 'history's greatest gourmet' will precede Your Excellency's name."
With his mood at its peak, Marquis Frederick turned to my father, who sat dazed beside me, and laughed.
"Hey, Court Count! I heard you were worried sick about your son, but it was because he's too outstanding! At such a young age, harboring such grand ambitions—must make you proud as a father! Hahaha!"
"Ah... yes. Well, that's... true..."
Father's awkward response, sweat pouring down, somehow looked a bit pitiful.
Understandable.
Just months ago, his bedridden shut-in son had suddenly turned into an oily-tongued con artist... no, businessman.
His brain must be spinning with cognitive dissonance by now.
What could he do? It was all for the family.
From behind Father, I smiled, envisioning everything proceeding exactly to plan.
I'd gathered most of the puzzle pieces.
What remained... the marquis's lady for technology, and royalty for authority.
Once those two were settled, filling the gaps would be child's play.