Hildeburg's Doll Princess
"Fire."
With a whoosh of flames, I felled the cockatrice in one strike. In front of its massive corpse, I built a campfire and set up a temporary camp.
Princess Rosaria looked utterly exhausted. Even after some recovery magic and a cup of dragon's blood herb tea to restore her strength, her body was weakened from not having eaten properly for so long. If a normal person's max stamina was 100, hers was barely at 10. Casting more recovery magic in that state would only buy her a little time before she collapsed from exhaustion anyway.
"Cooking will take a bit, so rest up."
Rosaria nodded and sat down by the fire next to Aris, her face pale as a ghost.
"Aris, you're supposed to help me, not sit there."
"Eeeh?! Can't I rest too?"
"You're not a guest. Go grab the bag."
"Uuuu..."
Aris stood back up with a whine and fetched the bag for me.
"Alright then..."
The cockatrice's body was enormous, nearly four or five meters long. Among adventurers, it was feared for its petrification ability, but to me, it was just a giant chicken—nothing more, nothing less. Sure, unlike a real chicken, the meat was tough and some parts were dangerous if eaten raw, but I was plenty experienced cooking monster ingredients.
"Steam Fire."
I first held out my palm toward the cockatrice and cast a flame spell. It was similar to the one I'd used for the campfire, but the effect was entirely different. By mixing in water elements, it produced scalding steam. The vapor billowed from my hand, enveloping the cockatrice's body. This blanched it like dipping in boiling water, opening the pores in its skin to make plucking the feathers easier.
Once the pores had softened enough, I grabbed the feathers by hand and yanked them out in one direction.
"Aris, help me pluck."
"Ah, yeees—!"
Shwick!Shluck!
Plucking the giant cockatrice took a fair bit of time, but with the pores open, the feathers came out smoothly. Once we'd stripped the whole body, it looked just like a market-fresh chicken scaled up dozens of times.
"Wind Cutter."
I then used a spell to shape wind into a massive blade, slicing off the head, and followed with a pressure-control spell to bleed it out in seconds. Next, I unpacked the simple cooking tools from my bag. I set up a tall iron stand over the fire to hang a pot, placing a large one right in the center.
"Condense!"
I cast a spell to gather moisture from the air, filling the pot with clean water as if conjuring it from nothing. In a confined space, it could dry out the surroundings in a flash, but out here in the forest, it was no issue.
"Aris, the cleaver."
"Huh? Oh... right!"
Aris rummaged in the bag and handed me a knife.
"That's a kitchen knife! And when you hand someone a blade, turn the handle toward them!"
"Huh? Uh... umm..."
"There's one with a curved tip. That one."
"Yeees—!"
This time, Aris found the proper cleaver and handed it over handle-first. I gripped the long blade and carefully filleted the meat from one massive thigh, separating skin, flesh, and a bit of bone. A regular chicken, you might use whole, but this thing was too big. Properly broken down, it'd yield at least a hundred servings. No need for that much now, so I just cut what we needed.
I tossed the bone, meat, and skin into the pot and set it boiling. I fine-tuned the fire's intensity with mana, keeping it from getting too fierce. Once the broth started bubbling, I added three kinds of herbs and salt to kill any off-flavors. With a ladle, I skimmed off scum and excess fat, then tasted a bit of the broth.
"Mm."
As expected, cockatrice broth had far more depth than regular chicken. Like a premium free-range bird on steroids. The flavors from the bones and skin were exceptional. The monster's natural gaminess was tough to tame, but I'd packed ingredients specifically for that, so it was perfectly neutralized.
After simmering the stock for a good while, I removed the bones and skin, leaving just the thigh meat. I checked it was tender enough, then shredded it into fine threads. Finally, I added rice from the bag and used a spell to boost osmosis, letting the broth soak evenly into every grain.
"Sluuuurp... It smells so good..."
Aris, who'd been watching the whole process, gulped loudly.
What I was making was cockatrice porridge. The rice was boiled to a soft mush, thin enough to swallow almost without chewing—perfect for her condition.
A short while later, the cockatrice porridge was done. It looked like thin chicken rice porridge, but the flavor was richer, meatier.
"It's hot, so eat it slowly, a little at a time."
I ladled a single serving into a small bowl and handed it to Rosaria.
"Is this... the dish I ordered?"
She took the bowl and looked at me questioningly.
"Right now, your stomach's weakened from skipping meals for days. Suddenly eating a full meal could be dangerous. Start with warm porridge to gently wake it up. Once you're ready for solids, then we'll do the real food."
I explained as I served bowls for Aris and myself.
"Nomf...! Nomf...! It's... nothing special, but weirdly delicious!"
Aris shoveled in huge spoonfuls at breakneck speed. Fresh from the pot, it was lava-hot, yet she devoured it like it was nothing.
"If it tastes good, just say it tastes good."
I lightly chided her review and checked on Rosaria. She stared at her bowl, hesitating to dig in. Probably the family trauma that triggered her anorexia still gripping her psyche.
I spoke to her again. "I get that you're still worried deep down. But forcing yourself into a marriage you hate just because of family decisions? This path seems way better to me. Think of it as starting fresh on your own terms. The moment you came to me, the Hildeburg family lost their chance to drag you back."
"You think so...?"
"For now, forget you're a ducal princess. You're just an adventurer. Clear your head of family drama. Once we're done eating, Irit will pick you up. After that, you're free to do whatever."
Rosaria slowly lifted her bowl, inhaling the steam rising from it. With the gaminess fully eliminated, even a weak stomach wouldn't mind the smell—as long as the mental block wasn't too strong.
She still hesitated to dip her spoon, so I continued. "Before opening the restaurant, I was an adventurer too. Spent years camping in forests like this, foraging dungeon ingredients to cook on the fly. Nothing compared to fine dining, but those meals are special memories now."
"..."
"Why not taste that adventurer freedom? This is your first step."
I scooped up some porridge from my own bowl and took a bite. The rich cockatrice broth lingered deeply on the tongue, the finely shredded meat so tender it melted away without chewing.
Rosaria stared hard at her bowl again. Then, with a big gulp, she swallowed once, scooped up a spoonful, and brought it slowly to her lips with her slender white hand.
And finally... her first bite entered her mouth.
Chew... chew... chew...
I watched tensely as she worked it around. Would her body accept it? Honestly, I wasn't sure. But I'd done everything I could. If she threw it up...
Well, I'd be out of options.
Then—gulp. After an eternity of chewing, Rosaria swallowed.
She looked up at me.
"How is it? Good?"
I smiled and asked.
"It's... delicious. More than anything I've ever eaten... shockingly so."
Her face showed genuine surprise, one hand unconsciously pressing her solar plexus. Feeling food slide down properly after so long, maybe.
"Eat slowly so it settles."
"Then... I'll dig in."
Her spoon returned to the bowl. Another bite, then another. Steadily, the porridge diminished. No regurgitation.
Her face, so long denied a proper meal, began to glow with a subtle, radiant vitality.