The Flounder—No, Sebastian—Was Too Delicious to Deny
The Flounder—No, Sebastian—Was Too Delicious to Deny
Mermaids. Or sirens, as they're sometimes called. Humans of the sea.
Beings who live beneath the waves, under the rule of the Sea King, in harmony with all marine life.
For a long time, their existence was considered nothing more than legend.
Humans on the continent couldn't dare sail to the mermaids' domain—the sea monsters lurking in the deep ocean made that impossible. And the mermaids, for their part, had little reason to ever visit the continent.
They had no shortage of amusements in the ocean, even without setting foot on land.
Shark surfing.
Riding the water cannons great whales blasted into the sky.
Swimming across the open sea alongside dolphins.
Gathering clams and coral from the ocean floor.
And so on.
The sea offered more than enough diversions.
Not every mermaid spent their whole life under the ocean, however.
It wasn't uncommon for those who'd developed a curiosity about the continent to go and live among its people.
For them, transforming their tails into human legs to walk on land was an effortless task.
As a result, confirmed sightings of mermaids by humans were vanishingly rare—you could count them on one hand over the span of centuries.
And now, one of their princesses: Michelle.
The Sea King's firstborn daughter, who ruled the waters. The most famously beautiful woman in the Dragon Palace, far out in the distant deep sea.
Every creature in the ocean adored her clear, sea-blue hair. Loved by all, and loving all in return, she was her father's most treasured daughter.
"Abamama, I made this coral necklace myself from pieces I gathered outside the palace today."
"Ahaha, it's beautiful. You gathered it with your own hands?"
"Yes! Sebastian helped me!"
The Sea King let out a quiet sigh at that name.
"Michelle, my child."
"Yes, Abamama?"
"Do not grow too fond of those creatures."
"Why not?"
"The one you've named Sebastian is a fish. Not a mermaid like us. Yes, we can speak with them, but in the end, they are still beings we must rule and manage."
"But Sebastian told me he's worked in the Dragon Palace for hundreds of years."
"That's true. A loyal retainer. One I trust to be strong, too. But that's a separate matter."
"Why?"
The Sea King couldn't find the words to continue.
"You'll understand when you're older."
He simply stroked her hair gently.
She didn't understand. How could he view creatures you could talk with, hold real conversations with, as nothing more than subjects to be managed?
"But Abamama..."
"Michelle, I'll tell you one thing. Those children cannot enter this Dragon Palace. Do you know why?"
The Sea King snapped his fingers.
In an instant, the seawater that filled the hall drained away, replaced by air. As the water vanished, the fishtail-like lower halves of the Sea King and Michelle transformed into human legs.
"Because fish, who cannot breathe outside of water, cannot survive here. They cannot live out of the sea as we can."
"Then are we the same as the continent-people?"
"Different. They cannot breathe underwater, can they? And yet the fish are not like us, either. We are a special existence. Always remember that, my daughter."
The Sea King smoothed her hair as he spoke.
"Now, let us go eat. It's mealtime."
She followed him into the dining hall and took in the food laid out across the table.
Steam curled invitingly from dish after dish. Seared cuts of fish filled the air with their savory fragrance.
Her older brother, Guriel—the Sea King's firstborn son—joined Michelle and their younger siblings at the table.
This was the Sea King's one respite from his duties: a family meal. Once the Queen took her seat, completing the gathering, the meal began.
"Enjoy your meal."
"Thank you for the food!"
The cuisine of the sea was delicious. Enough to make you forget all about the world above.
"Abamama, what is this dish made from? How do they cook it like this?"
"That I cannot tell you. A chef's secret."
It was deeply frustrating, knowing she could never recreate these dishes herself without the recipes or ingredients.
But it was fine. The food in the Dragon Palace always satisfied her.
That had been enough.
It had been.
"...It's delicious."
What sat before her now was several times more delicious than anything she'd eaten back then.
Crispness, succulence, and tenderness, all at once. The springy flesh melted away the moment she chewed it a few times.
Not a hint of toughness.
It meant the man in front of her was a first-rate chef.
'It's definitely the same ingredient they always used...'
A fish the Dragon Palace chefs frequently used for steamed and grilled dishes.
The flavor of the ingredient itself was similar. Of course, this dish was far tastier, but her palate was refined enough to distinguish the underlying material.
"You called this... fried flatfish?"
"That's right. A dish made from olive flounder. You coat it in batter and fry it quickly in hot oil, giving it a crisp outside and a moist interior."
"...Fried. I've never eaten anything like this before."
"You've never had fried food?"
"No. But it's wonderful."
She could feel the hostility she'd been burning with start to gently dissolve.
A talent too precious to kill. Yes, she was furious about Sebastian's death, but her father had always taught her a lesson.
-Talented people must be treasured. One capable person can replace ten thousand ordinary ones.
Crunch.
An exquisite opening of crispness, followed by the tenderness of the flesh within. Watching the white meat flake apart along its grain was a thing of beauty.
'This really is the same ingredient the Dragon Palace chefs use.'
The way the meat split apart. The color visible beneath the batter. The flavor. The appearance. Identical.
But the taste was nothing alike.
What she'd eaten in the Dragon Palace felt like a child's plaything in comparison.
"Mmm, delicious."
The tender flesh lingered on her tongue.
Her hand kept moving back to it. The so-called "rice" and the spicy fish stew were also delicious, but this fried flatfish was familiar to her palate in a way the others weren't.
Just as a hint of greasiness began to feel heavy, she took a sip of the deep-red broth.
"A-ahh..."
A shiver ran through her.
A crimson wave washed away all the oil that had coated her mouth. This fiery, lava-hot maeuntang was so spicy it made her mouth sting, yet it kept whetting her appetite again and again.
She let out a deeply satisfied hum and lifted another spoonful of rice.
Delicious. Truly delicious.
So much so that she wanted to invite this man who had killed Sebastian back to the Dragon Palace.
If Abamama tastes this human's cooking, he'll absolutely be impressed. He might even make him the palace's personal chef.
The more she ate, the more she coveted him.
Not just because she was hungry. The food was genuinely excellent.
She couldn't stress it enough. Her rage over Sebastian was growing paler.
-Princess, I'll hunt something nearby that's worth eating.
Sebastian...
Having scraped the plate clean, she wiped her mouth with a tissue and turned to the man.
"You. What is your name?"
"Lucas."
"Lucas, would you consider coming to my palace to serve as a chef?"
"Apologies, but I have no intention of leaving this place."
What?
Was he honestly content with this backwater diner?
"A royal chef. You would be turning down a position that offers you immense wealth and honor."
"Yes."
His flat refusal stole her words.
Words wouldn't persuade him—she could see it. There was a resolute will in his eyes.
What do I do? I want to take him. I want to take him so badly.
She was tempted to summon the Dragon Palace warriors and drag him there by force. Take him back and eat three meals a day cooked by this man's hands.
She wanted him. Wanted his cooking. Every single day. Without missing a single one.
She had eaten countless delicacies in her life, but this was the first time she'd felt this way.
"You may find it hard to believe, but I am a princess of a sovereign nation."
"Even an emperor couldn't take me away."
"..."
Then a thought crossed her mind.
Artisans who have reached a certain level all have their own standards—their own stubbornness. They won't listen to, or do favors for, anyone who fails to meet those standards.
And she had tried to kill this man the moment they met. Blinded by rage over Sebastian.
'I messed up. I should have been calmer...'
What do I do? How can I take him with me?
She couldn't find an answer. Panic set in. If she couldn't take him, she at least had to learn how to make these dishes.
This... frying. This maeuntang. The rice. The sautéed mushrooms.
Each one radiated its own distinct charm. Not a single dish was worth letting go.
Pacing anxiously on the balls of her feet, she asked, He wouldn't share the recipes if she asked. So she'd start slowly—with the ingredients. Maybe if she learned bit by bit, he'd open up to her?
"This flatfish you used for the fried dish... what kind of fish is it?"
"Ah, on the continent, we call it flat meat..."
Clang!
"Miss?"
"F-f-flat... meat?"
"That's right. You slice the flat meat thick, cut it into bite-sized pieces..."
"S-stop!"
"Miss?"
"Please... stop."
She knew continent-dwellers called fish like Sebastian "flat meat."
Which meant... could it be... this fried flatfish she had just eaten...
"...Sebastian?"
No. It couldn't be.
There was no way she had just devoured Sebastian with such relish.
"Urp!"
A horrific wave of self-loathing and revulsion surged up. An involuntary dry heave wracked her body. But nothing came up.
Because, to bring it back up—
She had enjoyed the flatfish far too much.
And deep down, she realized she didn't want to throw up the food she'd just savored. It was simply too precious to waste. To vomit back up such a delicious meal.
A raw, instinctive craving.
"What's wrong?"
"J-just one more question. Was... was the flat meat about this big?"
She spread her hands, roughly measuring Sebastian's size.
"A little bigger than that, I think, but close."
She couldn't hold it in. She shot to her feet.
How could she? What was she supposed to do? Was she supposed to kill this man now, to avenge Sebastian?
She had eaten him too. She had participated in Sebastian's death. She was...
The same as him.
Just as guilty as the man who'd killed him.
She could do nothing. Nothing but grit her teeth as tears streamed down her face.
'It was the same meat I used to eat in the Dragon Palace.'
Which meant she herself, since long ago, had been...
Her father's words surfaced in her mind.
-You'll understand when you're older.
No. No, no, no! It couldn't be!
It was a lie.
Clenching her fists, she fled the restaurant as if escaping for her life.
"Huh? Miss!"
Lucas's voice called after her, but she kept running. Until the sea came into view.
Even as she ran, the thought lingered: the fried fish had been so, so delicious.
***
"...What was all that about?"
I mumbled to myself, watching the blue-haired woman's retreating figure disappear into the distance.
So she really wasn't one of the princess's people?
-Lucas, would you consider coming to my palace to serve as a chef?
At first, I'd assumed she was sent by the princess.
-A royal chef. You would be turning down a position that offers you immense wealth and honor.
-You may find it hard to believe, but I am a princess of a sovereign nation.
But her reaction didn't quite fit that. Still, a princess from another kingdom had absolutely zero reason to come looking for me...
"Was it a trap?"
If she'd been trying to defect to another country, she might have killed me. Maybe my flat refusal had saved my life.
'A royal chef, she says.'
As if I'd go. I'd already turned my nose up at being a cook knight in the Imperial Princess's Order. Take a wrong step and it's your head on the block.
"She sure seemed to enjoy it, though."
Given that she cleaned her plate and even shed tears over it.
"Ditching without paying stings, but..."
If I chalked it up as a price for my life, it didn't feel like much of a loss.
"One last cleanup, then time to prep for opening."
It wasn't long until we opened the doors.
***
"So it's today."
"You're in early. Wouldn't you normally just be waking up around now?"
Heimer, a knight of the viscount's household, blinked in surprise at the sight of Liana, who had shown up first thing in the morning. Liana was capable, no doubt, but she loved her sleep, rarely showing up at the estate office before ten.
"I was so excited I couldn't sleep much."
Liana pointed at the dark circles carved beneath her eyes.
"You're one to talk, Sir Heimer. You're here early yourself."
"Yes. To eat a proper lunch, you have to have an empty stomach ready. And since we won't be training during the time we're away, I had to get up earlier than the others."
"Diligent as ever."
On any normal day, the two of them would merely chat briefly about the lunch menu. Today was different. A strange tension crackled between them.
"Today's the day. I trust you know as well, Liana."
"Of course. It's exactly why I couldn't sleep."
Today was the day Lucas's Knight Restaurant opened. And ever since they'd each eaten different menu items a few days prior, the two had been locked in a fierce debate over which was the supreme dish. Today, they'd settle it.
"At last, the Sir's restaurant opens its doors."
"To hear someone who isn't a knight speak the words 'Knight Restaurant'..."
"Isn't it a Knight Restaurant because a knight opened it?"
"It is a Knight Restaurant because only true knights can experience its true essence."
"A rather narrow-minded view. That the flavor can only be tasted by knights."
"Indeed... There's a flavor in that restaurant that a non-knight like yourself, Liana, simply cannot perceive."
Just days ago, they'd been friendly workplace colleagues. Ever since their opinions split over the bulgogi rice set and the donkatsu, they'd been at each other's throats like sworn enemies.
The decision they'd reached, after all that arguing, was this: drag the entire Viscount's Knight Order and every Internal Affairs official to the restaurant and hold a taste evaluation.
"Let's make one thing crystal clear, Sir Heimer. The side that gets more votes for their favored menu item admits defeat and hands over this quarter's budget to the other."
"Agreed. But I expect no dishonest slandering of the food's flavor."
"Absolutely."
A bet wagering their departments' entire quarterly budgets. No wonder the two of them felt a rare surge of anticipation for lunchtime.
"At last, we can repair the outer roads with the knight order's budget."
"The knight order will be holding donkatsu feasts with the soldiers all quarter long on Internal Affairs' budget. Physical strength is national strength, after all."
Both of them were absolutely certain of victory, after all.