Is This What It Feels Like to Raise a Daughter?
To be honest, I'd never had any particular interest in baking.
And I didn't have any baking-related memories either. If anything counted as a memory, it was more about the desserts that came out of baking than the baking itself.
They weren't good memories, of course.
The word "memories" didn't even fit, really. "Bad recollections" would have been far more accurate.
How could the memory of only my little sister being allowed to eat desserts—while I wasn't permitted so much as a single bite—ever be called a fond memory?
There was even the time I'd been so desperately hungry for a taste that I'd humbly begged my sister for just one bite, only for her to go and tattle on me about the whole thing and get me scolded. From that position, I could say with absolute confidence that the word "memory" was never, ever the right fit.
Which was why, ever since coming here, having snack time arrive every single day—something that had only ever been allowed for my sister and never once for me—was… honestly, incredibly nice.
Back at the Duchy, the only luxury I'd been able to enjoy was secretly catching the sweet scent of bread and cookies from afar. Now I got to live a daily life where having snack time every day was simply a given.
On top of that, every single one of them tasted wonderful, and they prepared a different snack each day, so I never got tired of them. And if a snack happened not to suit my tastes, they'd immediately offer to swap it out for something else, even asking after just one bite whether it was to my liking.
How could any of that possibly be bad?
This was pampering of the highest order.
So when Margrave Ivan suddenly suggested I try learning to bake—when I heard what sounded like a roundabout way of saying I should make my own desserts if I wanted to eat them—I wasn't all that surprised, oddly enough.
The first thought that came to mind after hearing Margrave Ivan's words was… well, that it was about time.
After all, even my little sister, who had always been showered with the family's love—and still was—hadn't gotten to enjoy this level of pampering every single day. No matter how great and trustworthy Margrave Ivan's kindness toward me was, there had to be a limit. If anything, everything I'd received so far had been excessive, and the thought that this was simply the natural order of things even crossed my mind.
So I calmly accepted Margrave Ivan's recommendation.
It would have felt a little awkward to refuse outright when he was recommending I give it a try. Even if I was going to turn it down, I figured I should at least try it once first—that would be the proper courtesy to show Margrave Ivan, who'd already given me so much kindness.
And so the baking I started on Margrave Ivan's recommendation… turned out to be more fun than I'd expected.
Wasn't it difficult, you ask?
With the maids teaching me and helping out beside me, there wasn't really anything that stumped me or felt particularly hard. Come to think of it, all the difficult and finicky parts were handled entirely by the maids, so of course it couldn't help but be fun.
And I got a lot of praise from the maids, too.
"Baking is all about being meticulous, and you follow the measurements so carefully!"
"You have to get the color and texture of the dough just right… You seem to have a real gift for observation."
"Most children your age lack the patience and end up ruining things, but you have real patience, miss."
"You pick up the techniques we show you so quickly! Wow… your hands are really gifted!"
At first, even while receiving the praise, I wondered if I was really that good… but hearing it over and over did make me feel a little—just a tiny bit—good.
Did I actually have a talent for baking? Or were they deliberately heaping praise on me to steer me into making my own snacks?
Caught between those two possibilities, I kept baking while soaking up the compliments, and before I knew it, all the work was done.
The result of my first baking attempt was… scones.
As I was thinking that I supposed I was meant to eat these as my snack now, one of the maids spoke up.
"Scones are best when they're freshly made. Would you like to try one of the scones you made yourself, miss?"
Saying so, she broke off a little piece of scone, spread jam on it, and held it up to my mouth. The scone went into my mouth quite naturally, and…
"…Wow."
A sound of pure admiration slipped out of me on its own.
Freshly made scones really were different.
"They're so much more moist…"
"Being able to taste the finished product right away—that's the special privilege of baking, you know?"
…So there really was a reason Margrave Ivan had recommended it.
I'd thought he was just saying in a roundabout way that I should make my own snacks if I wanted to eat them. But as I was thinking that, the maid plated some scones. Then she spoke again.
"Since these are the scones you made, miss, you're free to eat them yourself… or you can give them to someone you'd like to share them with. We'll prepare a separate snack for you either way."
The moment I heard those words from the maid, Margrave Ivan's face was the first thing that came to mind.
…I'd received so much kindness from Margrave Ivan, after all. So it wasn't particularly strange that his face would be the one that floated up.
Come to think of it… he hadn't been telling me in a roundabout way to make my own snacks at all. He'd simply been recommending it out of pure goodwill.
Once that thought settled in, my mouth opened on its own.
"……I'd like to give them to Margrave Ivan."
At that, the maid suddenly held the plate of scones out to me.
"Then… how about delivering them yourself, miss?"
"…Pardon?"
I'd naturally assumed the maids would take them, so I was a little flustered.
"You made them, didn't you? So of course you should deliver them yourself. Take a little credit while you're at it. Come on, now."
"Uh, um…?"
A knock sounded at the door.
…It was quieter than usual, somehow?
"Come in."
The door opened slowly. And Aria stepped inside—holding a plate of scones, no less.
"Um… I made these with the maids' help…"
Aria said, fidgeting awkwardly. For a moment I wondered if she was embarrassed… but it looked more like nervousness than shyness. The tension was written all over her expression and the way she moved.
"You made scones? I'll enjoy them. Thank you."
Scones, huh… I seemed to recall hearing somewhere that scones were a recommended baking recipe for beginners. If my memory served, the maids had at least chosen the menu well.
Whether they'd taught her properly and piled on the praise and shameless hype, I didn't know… but they'd figure it out on their own, right? Our maids weren't incompetent. I trusted they'd done a good job.
Anyway, she was giving me the scones she'd made…
Honestly, it wasn't like I hadn't been expecting it. No—I'd pretty much assumed she would give them to me for sure. It was basically the golden rule, wasn't it? You make something, then you share a taste with someone.
Still, a tiny part of me had wondered… but what was there to wonder about? She was bringing them straight to me.
My mood lifted a little. How could it not? Objectively speaking, a cute little girl had made scones and was looking after me with them—how could that not make me happy? Of course it did.
Watching Aria set the plate down with hesitant little movements and then just stand there waiting for me to eat the scones, I felt a swell of pride, and a sense of how precious she was.
Is this what it feels like to raise a daughter?
Man… no wonder fathers turn into doting dad-types. There's a reason for that.
Just moments ago I'd been clutching my head over the Ancient Monster situation, but receiving this made the headache vanish and the fatigue suddenly ease. That saying about a cute daughter being like a human vitamin—maybe that was something you could take seriously?
Thinking that, I picked up a scone. I spread some jam on it and took a bite.
"…These are good."
I'd been planning to force some shameless hype no matter how they tasted, for the sake of the headpat story… but they'd turned out so well I was genuinely surprised.
Sure, the maids had helped… but once a kid's hands get involved, the quality of the taste usually drops at least a little, right? And yet at this level, they were seriously fine.
Did Aria actually have a talent for baking? Had the direction of the overpowered headpat story actually been pastry and confectionery all along?
The possibility… was there!
Headpat stories weren't exactly a blue ocean market as I recalled, so you could always set the overpowered direction toward baking and pastry for some unique flavor.
…Alright, enough joking around.
Talent in baking alone wouldn't have been enough to secretly escape the Duchy and make it all the way to our territory without getting caught. I just needed to think, Oh, Aria has a talent for baking too. Good call recommending it, and leave it at that.
There was no law saying a person could only have one talent, right?
Anyway… time to praise her.
"I seriously think you might have a real talent for this."
"Um… no, that's not true. I got a lot of help from the maids."
"Even if you got a lot of help… your hands were involved enough that you can still say you made them, right? And if they turned out this well even so, then yes, you really do have talent. So it's okay to have some confidence."
After saying that, I hesitated for a moment.
Timing-wise, this was a good moment… but was it okay to go for it?
…Alright. Let's do it.
I stood up from my seat and walked over to Aria.
"I enjoyed the scones."
And as I said that, I gently stroked her head.
…Honestly, this was exactly the right timing to close the distance with a headpat, wasn't it?
"N-no, um… yes…"
Looking at Aria's reaction, I was a little unsure.
…The distance closed, right?