Please, Have a Taste
"There's bound to be something in here we can find fault with."
"Right. The whole place is suspicious."
"But they left the shop empty. Where did the owner go?"
Three girls murmured back and forth as they peered in through the windows of the store. They had seen it plainly enough — the means by which Seria, a commoner of no account whatsoever, had won the favor of both Ekaterina and Violetta. The secret had been nothing more than the convenient writing tools she brought, and the things to eat.
The writing tools they could grant. What they could not begin to understand was how the daughter of the Grand Duke of the North and an admiral's daughter — nobles among nobles — could be charmed by mere snacks. Food was food, however good it tasted. And yet two people who had never so much as exchanged a greeting with an ordinary commoner had taken a liking to her at the same time. They were dying to know just how delicious something had to be before Violetta and Ekaterina, two girls who looked as though they had no business sharing the same frame, could be made to stand in one picture together. The curiosity was more than they could bear.
Half curiosity and half suspicion, the girls were combing through the ownerless store when a voice came from directly behind them.
"What are you doing there?"
"Eek!"
All three cadets sprang into the air at once.
"Th-th-that's..."
The other two turned their eyes on Rafaella, the one who served as their leader, and she stammered as though she had been caught in the middle of a crime. The man, for his part, asked as if it did not concern him in the least.
"Did you come to buy something?"
Rafaella's eyes went wide.
"Y-yes, that's right...!"
The agreement slipped out of her before she knew what she was saying.
"Is that so? Sorry about that. You must have been waiting a while."
"N-no, not at all! We'll just be going, then!"
"Huh? You said you came to buy something, and now you're just leaving?"
The man tilted his head, and the flustered Rafaella looked to Luciela, who looked to Marcela.
What? What do you expect me to do?
Marcela shot the look straight back at their leader, demanding an answer with her eyes alone. In the end the three of them had no choice but to trail after the man into the store.
"So what are we even supposed to buy? I can't tell what any of this is."
"Should we try whatever Violetta had? I was honestly curious."
"Are you insane? Ugh, I wouldn't eat that if you killed me."
I stood blankly behind the counter and quietly watched the three of them bicker.
From where I'm standing, the one in the middle is Rafaella, left is Luciela, right is Marcela.
I hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but I'd picked up their names along the way.
"Hey, isn't the guy who runs the store kind of handsome?"
"Heh. So you thought so too?"
"He's taller and cleaner-cut than most young lords, I'll give him that."
I can hear every word, girls.
Fitting, really, for a world where a man needed nothing more than the strength to lift a spoon before he started collecting a wife and concubines — kids that age seemed to have no filter at all on the subject.
They might as well be sisters.
They didn't look alike. What they shared was an air of nobility that fairly poured off them, the very picture of the noble young ladies I had always imagined. And yet they were nothing like Ekaterina or Violetta. If Ekaterina's whole atmosphere was so refined and mysterious that she seemed difficult to approach, Violetta felt easygoing and unpretentious, hardly like a young lady at all.
Even so, you could tell she'd been well fed and well raised.
There was that particular ease about her that so-called rich children always seemed to carry. These three, by contrast, looked half-desperate to advertise I am a noble young lady and not quite managing it. Mind you, step outside these walls and they were from houses distinguished enough that they wouldn't spare a commoner like me so much as a word.
So why did girls like that come to the store?
Not that it mattered. They seemed far more sociable than Seria's little circle. Leave them with a good impression of the place, and wouldn't the cadets start pouring in? The only question was what to catch them with.
A grin tugged at my mouth before I could stop it.
Is heaven on my side?
Only a few days ago, after Seria and her friends had stopped by, I'd put in a large order of exactly the sort of things girls that age went wild for.
"Ahem."
I cleared my throat and addressed the three, who were wholly absorbed in picking through the goods.
"If you're having trouble deciding what to eat, mind if I recommend something? I've got a pudding that's genuinely delicious."
Flick, flick — they stole glances at one another all over again. And then they spoke.
"Yes. Let us try one."
Nose in the air, every syllable dripping hauteur. But that bluff did not take long to crack.
"What business have you, summoning this princess?"
The moment Second Princess Antiope stepped into the interview room, she demanded an answer in a voice thick with boredom. Delilah, the very person who had summoned her, smiled softly.
"I am sorry to trouble you. An advising professor is required, however, to meet with each cadet in her charge once every quarter."
It was a tone quite unlike the one she used with her students as a rule. The Academy had a standing rule that rank was not to be observed within its grounds, but the person across from her was who she was, and this once, courtesy could not be avoided.
"Please, have a taste."
Arms folded, Antiope looked down at the pudding set prettily upon the plate. Its milky surface looked so soft it seemed it might wobble if she so much as stared at it, and yet, whatever its appearance, in her eyes it was only an ordinary dessert in the end. She asked with a scornful little laugh.
"A bribe, is it?"
"Oh, come now, that's a hurtful thing to say. I had it brought from someone I know. I think you'll quite like it."
Antiope did not so much as pretend to eat. How many people, over the years, had mounted campaigns of gifts in the hope of winning her favor? She scoffed at the young professor's ambition, and yet she had to concede that the nerve it took — trying to purchase a royal's goodwill with nothing but something to eat — was rather impressive.
"You won't try it? It really is delicious."
Hmph.
The princess was resolute.
"Then there's nothing to be done. Although..."
Delilah's gaze slid past the sofa where Antiope sat and settled on the female cadet standing ramrod straight just behind her. The beauty with the violet bob cut sharp as a blade was Elinor, the princess's own aide.
"This is a private interview. Mind stepping out for a moment?"
A flick of the eyes. Elinor rolled her gaze toward Delilah without so much as turning her head.
"If the matter concerns Her Highness, I am sorry, but I must decline."
"Even if it's personal?"
"All the more so because it is personal. I am duty-bound to report to the imperial household whom Her Highness meets, and what words are exchanged."
At the unyielding refusal, Delilah gave a shrug and looked to the person concerned. Antiope let out a sigh.
"...Enough. Wait outside."
"But, Your Highness—"
"...!"
"If not, then has this princess been mistaken?"
The words sank in like a blade, and Elinor bit down hard on her lip. She wavered a moment, then bowed in formal courtesy and withdrew from the interview room. Watching her go, Delilah spoke with no small amount of admiration.
"The trust between the two of you runs rather deep, doesn't it?"
"...I should be grateful if you would simply state your business."
Unlike the other professors, the alchemy professor addressed her with a familiarity so brazen that Antiope found it thoroughly uncomfortable. From Delilah's side of things, however, princess or no, she was a girl a good many years younger, and merely adorable for it. At the same time, there was something pitiable in the sight of a child so young straining to maintain a dignity worthy of her station. And so she thought that here, with only the two of them, it would do the girl good to set down a little of what she carried. Which was why she had set out a dessert she thought the girl might like.
"As I said a moment ago, the only reason I made so bold as to receive you is that these interviews are required every quarter. Your participation in class is excellent, and your marks are outstanding, so there is very little I need to tell you."
Antiope wrote the unspooling praise off as honeyed flattery and decided she need hear no more of it.
"Is that so? If you have nothing further to say, then I shall take my leave."
She was saying it with a face that could not have cared less, when—
"It really is delicious, though."
Delilah looked at the pudding sitting forlorn on the table, her expression thick with regret.
"Have a bite, and other desserts won't even cross your mind. It's that sweet."
"......"
Sweet? Sweet enough that no other dessert would even come to mind?
Delilah did not miss the moment the princess's eyes shifted, ever so subtly.
"Why do you urge this upon me so?"
"Well..."
Because girls that age are meant to grow up eating delicious things and looking at lovely ones.
Delilah bit the impulse back, put on a smile with some effort, and answered.
"Shall we say it is because I am quite certain it will suit Your Highness's taste perfectly?"
Antiope did not lower her guard. Hauteur fixed in place, she studied the alchemy professor's face in silence. What motive could possibly drive someone to go so far?
A wasted effort.
How many had poured out every flattery they possessed in hopes of winning the favor of the imperial family — hers among them — and come away with nothing? And yet there was nothing upon this earth, no person living, that did not belong to the imperial house, and it was only because all of those things existed that the imperial house itself endured. If someone was striving to such lengths, it hardly seemed proper for a princess to refuse them to the very end.
In the end, Antiope spoke as though she were merely giving in.
"Let me make one thing perfectly clear. Do not dream, not even in your sleep, that eating this — or that it should, by some chance, suit this princess's taste — will earn you any special favor."
Yes, yes.
In place of an answer, Delilah only smiled, bright and easy.
Where does that confidence even come from?
Born a princess, how many delicacies of land and sea had she tasted? The signature dishes of renowned chefs from every corner of the continent, of course, and more dishes than she could count that used rare ingredients one could not easily obtain. And yet nothing, in all that time, had ever captured her heart. And so—
This will be no different.
So she was thinking, in the very moment she indifferently lifted a spoonful of pudding to her lips.
"...!"
A strange light kindled in the princess's eyes— and once again, Delilah did not miss the change that lasted only an instant.