Let Us Go to the Imperial Palace
Let Us Go to the Imperial Palace
"You've arrived."
Ivan answered Riman's greeting with a silent nod.
"I could hardly refuse my master's request. As I am currently learning chivalry under him, his words are law to me."
Riman nodded as if he'd expected that answer.
"But a sudden trip to the Imperial Palace—what's this about?"
"We're presenting a carbonated beverage made with our new carbonation injector to His Majesty."
"A carbonated beverage... I tasted the prototype. What does that have to do with me going to the palace?"
"Didn't Sir Lucas mention in his letter that your cooking would be essential?"
"He did, yes."
Something still didn't sit right with Ivan.
He was grateful his master thought highly of his skills, but he considered himself nowhere near a finished chef.
And now he was being told to walk into the Imperial Palace and cook.
The weight of it pressed on him—an unfamiliar sensation, the kind he'd never felt before.
"Just prepare a dish to accompany the carbonated beverage."
"...Understood."
While the two were speaking, the mistress of the house, Camilla, emerged to greet Ivan.
"It's been a while, Ivan."
"A pleasure to see you."
"You're not here as the son of Duke Perdes, I assume."
"...You knew."
"My eyes and ears reach everywhere. The Imperial Household likely has the information as well—that Duke Perdes is trying to register his illegitimate son."
"......."
Ivan's mouth tightened.
Memories he'd rather not revisit stirred.
His past. His mother's death. And the man who called himself a father yet never once came looking.
And now, the moment Duke Perdes wanted something from him, he was being ordered to be useful.
"That will never happen."
"You refused him, then."
"Yes."
"What do you intend to do?"
"As soon as I've finished what my master asked, I'm going straight back to Britten."
Camilla's question hadn't required a moment's hesitation.
"When you say 'master,' you're referring to Sir Lucas, I take it?"
"Yes."
"Aside from coming to the Imperial Palace with us, what else did he ask of you?"
Ivan called to mind the letter Lucas had sent.
- If you're reading this, I assume you've already refused Duke Perdes's offer to join his household.
- Go to the Imperial Palace and present the dish you're best at. A meat gukbap or jeyuk bokkeum should do it. They'll know who trained you. Make sure Princess Diana takes an interest in you.
- Camilla will help. You can trust her; rely on her.
- Diana will ask you to cook a few things. Just be honest about what you can make and only prepare what you're actually capable of.
- If you chose not to become a Perdes, this is the only way to leave the capital safely and get back to Britten.
- While you're in the capital, try as many different foods as you can and broaden your palate. Just as a knight benefits from crossing swords with a variety of blades, a cook needs to taste a wide range of cuisine.
His master had known all along who his father was.
The reason he'd never brought it up was, most likely—
'Out of consideration for me.'
It had been family business.
A father who never once sought his son—that was hardly something an outsider could meddle in.
'He knew I wouldn't accept the Duke's proposal.'
Truly, his master saw through everything.
"He told me to cook at the Imperial Palace."
"Cook? You mean you intend to cook Lucas's dishes?"
Camilla's eyes sharpened.
"Yes. That's what I'll do. The only cooking I know is what I learned from my master."
"No. Absolutely not."
"My master also said you'd refuse. He said it involves several commercial interests."
"...And despite that, he told you to come with me?"
"He did. He said you'd understand."
"Why would I?"
"He said the location's been exposed anyway, so there's no point in covering our eyes and pretending not to see. If anything, if my cooking can satisfy your craving, he said, everyone wins."
"......."
Camilla fell silent.
If Princess Diana was satisfied with Ivan's cooking... and decided not to march south?
There was nothing she wanted more.
But.
'Would she be satisfied?'
The same woman who'd been ready to mobilize the Imperial Army and head south just to eat Lucas's food?
She'd bet her entire fortune on the opposite.
Still.
'Lucas wasn't wrong, either.'
Diana knew Lucas's location.
She currently believed he was still in Lilyan, but that wouldn't last.
Soon enough, she'd learn the truth: Lucas wasn't in Lilyan. He was in Britten.
The Princess's Knight Order was competent, and now that Diana had been elevated to Crown Princess, she had the power to verify that information.
So placating her with Ivan's cooking wasn't a terrible idea.
'Diana's been obsessing over ramyun soup powder lately. Practically fanatical.'
The ramyun soup business had accelerated far faster than projected, and that was entirely due to Diana's fixation.
Camilla didn't know the reason.
Even with all her information networks, she couldn't fathom why Diana had latched onto Lucas's cooking with such intensity.
'When he left, she sent him off like he didn't matter.'
And now she's regretting it, apparently.
Unlike Diana, though, Camilla herself had invested considerable effort in finding Lucas from the very start.
Even after he left the capital, Golden Wagon had continued shipping ingredients to him and had spared no expense in supporting him however they could.
And now—
'We've become people who share the same dream.'
Granted, it was still strictly a business partnership.
But was there really such a firm line between a business partnership and something more personal?
People always said it.
Call a man oppa long enough, and one day he becomes appa.
She'd heard Count Hayden's daughter next door had married her husband exactly that way—a love match after years of calling him oppa.
Camilla forced the smile threatening to surface back under control.
"Hoho... ahem! In any case, I understand Sir Lucas's thinking well enough. Allow me to arrange that audience."
"Thank you, Lady Camilla."
"Then let's go. We'll be late."
Together with Camilla, Riman, and Blackbeard, Ivan made his way inside the Imperial Palace.
After passing through countless security checks, they were finally granted an audience with the Emperor.
The aged Emperor.
His white hair and the beard that covered his jaw in tight, even coils still gleamed—as if declaring that the Emperor remained every bit as formidable as ever.
Well past sixty yet still vigorous, he looked down at them from his throne.
"It's been some time, Lady Camilla."
His voice pressed down with immense authority.
The weight of a lifetime spent safeguarding the empire suffocated everyone in the chamber.
"I behold the sun of the Empire."
"Tch. You're far too stiff with me. Shouldn't we be done with those formalities by now?"
"Hardly. I hold Your Majesty in such deep respect—how could I possibly presume to be at ease?"
"Heh. I didn't realize I commanded that much of your respect, Lady Camilla."
Her head bowed, Camilla glanced sideways at Diana, standing at the Emperor's side.
First Prince Zenon was nowhere in sight.
Which meant the Emperor intended to keep Diana at his side from now on, reinforcing her legitimacy now that she'd been formally named Crown Princess.
'It's truly over for him.'
Soon enough, the First Prince would be gifted a patch of useless land in the countryside and sent away from the capital—or would die in a suspicious accident.
"This is a tribute from Golden Wagon, presented to His Majesty the Emperor and Her Highness the Crown Princess."
At her signal, Ivan stepped forward with a crate packed full of carbonated water.
"So this is the carbonated water Golden Wagon will soon be selling. You simply mix in the syrup and it's ready to drink?"
"That's correct."
"A product born from the union of a human alchemist and Dwarven engineering. If that isn't the fitting symbol of a new era's dawn, I don't know what is."
The Emperor smiled, satisfied, and his gaze fell upon Ivan, who had delivered the crate.
"The Perdes bastard."
At the Emperor's cutting tone, Ivan bowed his head.
"The name Perdes does not belong to me."
"Oh? Is that so?"
"I go by Ivan."
"I see. I'll remember it."
Camilla, who had quietly observed Ivan's exchange with the Emperor, bowed once more and spoke.
"Today, Sir Ivan will present a dish to complement the carbonated water he has brought before Your Majesty and Her Highness."
"So he's a cook, not a knight?"
"Both knight and cook are professions that wield blades. He is a knight who aspires to be a cook."
"I see. Forgive me, but if someone is unvetted, I generally don't entrust them with what I eat."
A clean refusal.
And why wouldn't it be? Ivan's status wasn't guaranteed, and his skill was an unknown quantity.
But Camilla had a trump card.
"His skill is guaranteed. He learned to cook from Sir Lucas, who once served in the Princess's Knight Order."
"Lucas?"
The one who reacted was Diana.
She whipped around to stare at Ivan.
Watching the Crown Princess—who not only knew his master's name but bristled with intensity the moment she heard it—Ivan was quietly moved.
'As I thought, my master is a man of overwhelming ability. To have won over the empire's heir as well...'
Oblivious to Ivan's inner thoughts, Camilla bowed to the Emperor and continued.
"If not for His Majesty, I beseech you to allow it to be presented at least to Her Highness the Crown Princess."
"...The fact that he's the Perdes bastard still troubles me."
The old Emperor glanced at his daughter with lingering reluctance.
"Diana. What do you wish to do?"
"I'll try it. Lady Camilla would hardly bring someone here who meant me harm. And we have the Saintess with us. If—by some one-in-a-thousand chance—that man was sent by Perdes to assassinate me, the Saintess's healing will be at hand."
"If you are comfortable, then so be it. Very well. Proceed."
Permission granted.
"Follow me."
Crown Princess Diana approached them, and her lips curved into a smooth, gentle arc.
***
"I didn't expect it would be Lady Camilla who first arrived with one of Sir Lucas's people."
At Diana's remark, Camilla merely smiled.
"Weren't you doing everything in your power to keep me from ever facing him?"
"As I told you—it was for the sake of Your Highness's political standing."
"I know your merchant's loyalty. What I don't understand is how a bastard of House Perdes became Sir Lucas's disciple."
Diana's gaze drifted to Ivan, who had begun stir-frying meat in the kitchen.
His movements were a touch awkward, even a little ungraceful, but the way he handled the fire and the pan was quite skilled.
And something about him reminded her of Lucas.
"I don't know the whole story either. I don't believe Sir Lucas was aware at first. What I heard was that the Perdes Knights attacked the restaurant."
"The Perdes Knights?"
"Yes. I heard it from the man himself."
Camilla, too, looked at Ivan as he cooked.
"...And what happened?"
"They were all subdued, from what I gather."
"By Sir Lucas?"
"Yes."
"......."
"It seems Your Highness didn't harbor much affection for your subordinate. You barely seem to know anything about Sir Lucas."
Diana couldn't open her mouth.
Because it was true.
She was the one who hadn't recognized Lucas's worth—not until he was already gone.
"Um—excuse me... I really don't think it's right for you sisters to keep fighting."
While Saint Amelia squirmed helplessly between the two—
"This is jeyuk bokkeum, taught to me by my master."
His dish complete, Ivan set down the steaming red platter.
"Please, try it, Your Highness."
"...Thank you."
She picked up her chopsticks.