#16 Hildeburg's Doll Princess
“……”
Princess Rosaria sat silently, gazing at me. Her eyes shone a pretty green, yet somehow felt utterly hollow.
“No one stops eating entirely without reason.”
I continued, eyeing the teacup I'd set before her as it cooled. “If someone suddenly gives up food and drink, it's either because their body's in that much pain or some psychological issue. You're looking gaunt, Princess, but not so ill you can't stomach a thing—so I'm guessing the latter.”
“……What are you trying to say?”
“I'm a chef at a restaurant that makes whatever food the customer desires. But in your current state…… even the most incredible dish I could whip up, you wouldn't be able to enjoy properly.”
Truth be told, whether the princess starved herself or wasted away from hunger wasn't my business. But she had come to my restaurant as a customer. Whether by choice or force, if she'd stepped through my doors, I wanted to awaken in her the joy of eating.
Not just food as something to shove in your mouth, chew, swallow, and fill your belly with. I wanted customers to savor my dishes with both body and soul. That's why I'd retired from adventuring. That's why I ran this quirky little place.
I didn't know exactly what stress she was under or why she refused meals. But now that she'd entered my restaurant, I wanted to give her a choice.
“I don't serve dishes that won't satisfy my guests. And you're here as my guest right now.”
“……”
“You can leave without ordering if you like. But as my guest, if that's what you wish, I'll do everything in my power to restore your lost appetite.”
Princess Rosaria offered no reply, merely lowering her eyes to the cooling teacup. I glanced briefly out the window at Hirel's impatient state, then ventured carefully, “This might be overstepping…… but may I share a bit of what I've observed?”
“……Yes.”
Princess Rosaria looked up at me calmly from her seat. Even now, I couldn't imagine her and Hirel sharing blood. Unlike the hot-tempered, utterly impatient young lord with no patience to speak of, she embodied the refined ideal of nobility—demure and elegant.
But if I needed to draw something out through talk, Hirel would be far easier to handle than this doll princess. Her face betrayed no hint of her thoughts.
Even so, to pinpoint her inner turmoil, I began probing gently.
“Nothing said here will ever leave these walls. I won't ask you to blindly trust a stranger, but what I say next could get me in trouble if it leaked—so for this moment, we're in the same boat, you and I.”
“……”
“The nickname 'Doll Princess'…… I think I get why. But 'doll' can mean all sorts of things, right? Maybe you don't care for it much?”
It was all speculation. But grounded speculation.
Back in my adventuring days, I'd seen enough of high noble families to last a lifetime. The loftier the house, the more they obsessed over appearances, rotting from within. Their daughters were groomed like flowers for advantageous marriages.
The Doll Princess had surely been pampered for her striking looks. And now, on the cusp of that very marriage—the purpose of it all—stress-induced anorexia had struck. Yet no one dared point it out directly.
“Learning etiquette, refining body and mind for a good match…… and now talks with another house are set. It's commonplace for nobles, but the timing lines up too neatly with your loss of appetite.”
“……Please don't speak so freely. I've just lost my taste for food lately, that's all.”
“Even if the timing's off, it could still be the cause. I read in the papers: Hildeburg's Doll Princess has her match at last. From the Enstark family, right? How long until the wedding?”
“……A month.”
“And you don't want it.”
“……!”
If I'd missed the mark entirely, she'd snap or refuse to answer. Her silence meant I'd hit close.
But noble alliances didn't brook childish complaints, so the stress built. Whether she simply disliked the groom or something deeper, I couldn't say. But as the unwanted day loomed, the pressure mounted—that much was clear.
Her anorexia hadn't hit all at once. It crept in like a noose tightening with the wedding's approach.
Even her retainers must have suspected. They just couldn't voice it: The princess seems unhappy about the marriage, and that's why she's lost her appetite. I could blurt whatever without a care for rank, but for them? Heads would roll.
“Your appetite faded under the mounting pressure of this marriage you don't want. It'll worsen as the day nears, maybe ruining your health before you even reach the altar.”
“No……”
Princess Rosaria shook her head weakly, but her denial rang hollow.
“In short: you don't want this marriage, and it's breaking your heart. If I'm wrong, tell me plainly. Without knowing the cause, I can't make a dish for you—so I'll drop it.”
“……”
Princess Rosaria trembled faintly. She knew it too. She just didn't want to admit it.
No one had said it so bluntly. And she wasn't in a position to declare a political marriage off-limits.
But this was my restaurant. I wasn't family—just a host bent on satisfying the guest before me.
Princess Rosaria wasn't ready for my food yet. Until this knot unraveled, I had no intention of serving her.
“Why……”
After a long silence, she parted her lips. “You're just running a restaurant…… Why go this far for me?”
The question held layers. A roundabout This is family business—stay out of it, and genuine curiosity at my prying from a mere chef.
But there was no special reason. My stance had always been the same.
“Because you're my guest, Princess. And I want to satisfy you.”
As my talk with the Doll Princess dragged on, Hirel's patience frayed outside.
I eyed his blazing glare through the window, sensing our time was nearly up.
“……Will you order?”
“Even so……”
Princess Rosaria shook her pale head. “I don't know what to order. I won't eat it anyway.”
Survival instinct. Eating and drinking tie to our will to live. Forsaking them proves you've lost that will.
In my past life, I'd met a woman like that. We dated normally for two years, then split. My first love—it shattered me. For three days, I ate nothing, slept nothing.
On the fourth, convinced I'd die, I forced myself to the fridge despite no appetite. Grabbed every leftover side, mixed it with two bowls of rice into a mutt's-mess bibimbap.
One spoonful in, tears came. Not from heartbreak, but shock at how good it tasted. I devoured it all, got violently sick the next day, ended up in the hospital.
But my appetite returned fully. The breakup pain dulled, and life went on.
“At least here, choose with your own will, Princess. My restaurant respects its guests' choices. You know better than anyone how to eat tasty, feel-good meals again……”
Outside, Hirel barked at his men. He'll barge in soon.
“Then……”
Princess Rosaria pondered. I'd given all the answers. Her choice now.
“I'll order the freedom of an adventurer. Wait—no, that's not food. Of course……”
Her order wasn't a dish. But I didn't flinch.
“Order received. Next time, come alone. No one else knows. Then I'll serve what you ordered.”
Ding-a-ling— Ding-a-ling—
“You scoundrel! Don't you dare mess with my sister!”
The door flew open. Eyes bloodshot, Hirel stormed in, bellowing.
“We just finished talking.”
I faced the heaving young lord calmly. Princess Rosaria rose, approaching him.
“I've placed my order. Shall we go?”
“An order? What dish?”
To his question, she replied evenly.
“The finest dish I've never tasted in my life.”
With that, she glided lightly out the door. Hirel glared daggers at me, tilted his head once in puzzlement, then hurried after her.
The carriage rumbled away. The restaurant fell quiet, as if nothing had happened.
“……You okay, boss?”
Aris asked timidly, clearing the untouched teacup.
“The finest dish she's never tasted……”
I mulled her final words.
I hadn't told her what to do. But somehow, I sensed Princess Rosaria had made up her mind.