Cake (2)

"I'll make a cake for Huk-huk-i too!"

"Kyaaaak! You think whipping one up now is going to make me feel better?! I refuse!"

"I was going to make yours twice as big, too. Guess you don't want it…"

"Well, I can hardly turn down that kind of sincerity! Make it this instant!!!"

At Huk-huk-i's bellow, Charlotte and Yulia threw their aprons back on and sprinted for the kitchen. I carried the cake I'd been given as a gift over to the table and sat down to appreciate it one more time.

No matter how many times I looked, the thing was so catastrophic it made me laugh out loud. It wasn't as if they'd been short on tools. So how had it ended up this collapsed?

I ran a quick simulation based on Charlotte and Yulia's usual behavioral patterns, and the answer came almost at once.

"To cut bread into a circle… looking at the size, they must have used a tray. The tray was so big they had to hold it together and set it on the loaf to slice. Yulia's a little taller than Charlotte, so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the level went off and the circle fell apart."

"My goodness. How did you know? My lord, you'd make a wonderful detective!"

"…"

I had nothing to say to the maid gushing in amazement. The only people whose patterns I could read like that were children. How was I supposed to investigate actual crimes?

…Not that I could say that out loud.

"And this…"

Someone had clearly been unable to resist taking a bite. There were mouse-nibble traces left behind. They'd tried to cover it in a hurry with more cream, but fingerprints remained, so finding the culprit wasn't hard.

This print—Charlotte's right thumb, wasn't it? Working on the cake must have driven her appetite into a frenzy she couldn't hold back.

"Mm…"

I took a bite myself, and a wave of pure bliss crashed over my tongue. However it looked, once it was in your mouth it was all the same. The cream and the sponge had been prepared by the maids, so it would have been stranger if it tasted bad.

"Chocolate cake's done!"

"Huk-huk-i, eat lots!"

"Kyaaaak! Bring it here! Do you know how long I've suffered waiting for this…!"

Before long, Charlotte and Yulia burst out of the kitchen with a finished chocolate cake. They'd said twice as big—what they'd actually done was stack my cake into two tiers. And somewhere along the way they'd lost the balance, so the higher it rose the more it leaned, seriously, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

Huk-huk-i, however, couldn't have cared less about appearances. Screeching with joy, it charged in, took a huge bite without the slightest concern for the chocolate cream smeared around its mouth—and its eyes went perfectly round.

"It melts in my mouth even though it's not ice cream! Why didn't you make this for me until now?!"

"Ehehe. Cake's a special-occasion food, you know!"

"Charlotte. Yulia. Come to think of it—when are your birthdays?"

"…"

"…"

The dining room went quiet for a moment. And in that silence, I realized.

Ah. I'd put my foot in it.

"Ehehe. I was left at the orphanage as a baby, so I don't really know."

"I don't remember either…!"

"Nobody at the orphanage really knows their birthday. And even if they do, nobody bothers to celebrate."

"…"

Well. That tracked. Children living the most wretched lives imaginable weren't exactly eager to celebrate having been born. Properly speaking, the orphanage should have taken care of that—but the people running the place had been rotten through, so none of them had any real memory of a birthday celebration.

Knowing that, the aftertaste of the cake turned bitter.

"Then how about you start having birthdays from now on? Just pick a day of your own."

"Then we get cake too?!"

"Of course. If you want, you can even pick today."

"For real?! Then—!"

"No, Charlotte! A date has to be a proper fixed date!"

Charlotte looked baffled. Yulia dragged her off into a corner and whispered with her for a while—then Charlotte suddenly went Ah!, clapped her hands, and beamed.

"We've decided! We've decided! Both of us, the same day for our birthdays…!"

"And when is that?"

"Hmm. Secret. But I'll tell you the day before! …!"

"Not the day before—tell me three days ahead. There's going to be a lot to prepare."

"Yes!"

Charlotte and Yulia grinned at each other, giggling. They'd settled it in an instant—so they already had some special day just for the two of them? Why they needed to keep it secret, though, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠remained a complete mystery no matter how I turned it over.

As for presents… I didn't need to start agonizing yet. Children always started dropping little hints about what they wanted as the day drew near.

I want to celebrate Yuri's birthday too…

Come to think of it—did Yuri even know her own birthday? I'd have to feel that out later through a letter from the Dark Mister. I couldn't afford a catastrophe where some of my future brides got birthday celebrations and others didn't.

"All right, birthdays are settled, then… Come over here and eat cake with me. It's good."

"Yes! Finally I can ea—"

"Nngh, no! We made this cake for Aslan, so Aslan has to eat it! I'm fine—I'll have mine on our birthday! …!"

"I-I'm fine too, really!"

"…"

Charlotte had been about to charge over in pure joy—then Yulia's words flipped her around, and she stopped dead. Was she actually fine, though? Drool was dripping steadily from the corner of her mouth.

"Don't be like that. Come eat. Special days are meant to be celebrated together. What's the point of eating alone?"

"W-well, if Mister insists that hard, I guess I have no choice…!"

"Ch-Charlotte!"

Thud-thud-thud!

In a flash, Charlotte snatched up her dog bowl, raced over, and planted herself at my side. Then she carved off a huge chunk with a fork and transferred it to the bowl—and looking closer, it was exactly the section with the mouse-nibble bite.

Destroying the evidence, huh. Thorough.

"Mm! Mmmmm! I made it myself, but it's so good!"

"Yulia. Are you really not going to have any?"

"I-I'll eat…"

Watching Charlotte shudder like the happiest person alive, Yulia swallowed hard—then finally lowered her tail and brought her own dog bowl over. After all that work making it, she ought to at least taste it.

She lifted a small forkful, slipped it into her mouth, and pulled the tines free with a soft little suck—and her eyes went wide.

"I-it's delicious!"

"Our cake is the best! Right?"

"Yeah! Yeah! We could sell this…!"

Watching the children inhale cake like it was going out of style, I couldn't stop a smile of my own. Charlotte ate with such wholesome, ravenous joy it made you want to keep buying her food forever. Yulia looked almost elegant at first glance—but whenever something tasted good, her hands sped up without her noticing, so you could roughly gauge how good a dish was by that alone.

Truly, just watching them eat ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was enough to fill a stomach.

Then the door opened, and Silvia stepped in.

"My lord. You've already started on the cake."

"Why. Is that a problem?"

"Dinner is soon, is it not."

"Ah. Cake is confiscated for now. Eat after you've finished your meal."

"Aah…?!"

A second ago she'd been glowing over how well they ate…

Kali's lightning-fast about-face hit me with a deep sense of betrayal.

"Hmm…"

The Imperial Palace terror incident was being cleaned up with impressive speed. From the start, the only casualties had been a handful of wounded legionaries, so the real damage was limited to a few collapsed sections of the palace itself—and those were a simple matter of repair and renovation.

The important thing was preventing a recurrence. Since this whole affair had sprung from ignorance of shamanic arts, research into the subject was now being pushed forward under the Imperial family's lead. At this rate, it didn't seem far off that shamanism would be recognized as a proper field of study.

"My lord. A messenger has arrived from the Imperial Palace."

"I'll handle it."

At Silvia's report, I stood at once and headed for the front gate. No need to change clothes. I'd figured my sister the Empress's messenger was due any day now, so I'd already dressed for the occasion.

At the gate, the messenger bowed deeply in greeting. Fresh off leave, maybe—his color was certainly better than before.

"Count Belmont. I will convey Her Majesty's message briefly."

"Yes. Please do."

"Ahem, ahem!"

He cleared his throat once—and then his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠vocal range soared, his voice transforming in an instant into that of my sister the Empress.

"Aslan Belmont. I am deeply in your debt. I have thought long and hard about a fitting reward, but this was an unprecedented crisis and an unprecedented grace—so even when I searched the records of past rewards, I could find no useful example. Thus I have decided to bestow a reward as my heart moves me. First: I shall grant funding for your research into black magic. I am thinking on the order of ten billion larks… though the sum may be raised according to your needs."

"…!"

Ten billion larks. My eyes flew open of their own accord. Of course, my sister the Empress wasn't pouring that kind of money into black magic support for pure gratitude alone. After this incident, the Imperial family's wariness of "unknown powers" must have spiked to extremes. With a formidable shaman already having appeared, there was no guarantee an equally extreme black mage wouldn't follow. Research into black magic had to happen—but starting from zero was daunting. So the natural direction was to fund research already underway.

A rational choice.

"Furthermore, a neodymium mine was recently discovered. I shall transfer the full development rights to you. Use them or not, as you please. That much is free reward…"

"Yes."

"Listen carefully. A villa near the capital's Imperial Palace. The entire former Sonneti domain. Five hundred warhorses. And—I shall grant you the rank of Duke."

"…?!"

An unimaginably extravagant reward. The main course was the dukedom; everything before it was basically garnish. With only a single territory and relatively modest assets, a duke's prestige would suffer—so she'd thrown those in to pad the package.

Still. A duke. Stopping a terror attack was absolutely worthy of a major reward… but was it really duke-worthy?

The question had barely formed when—

"However. You must also accept the post of Director of the Imperial Intelligence Bureau to receive what I have just named—"

"I decline."

The bone-chilling condition that followed made me refuse on the spot in pure reflex.

Damn it. Director of the Imperial Intelligence Bureau was a lifelong post you couldn't resign without the Empress's personal leave.

I'd nearly been dazzled by the reward and become my sister the Empress's slave in a single stroke.