It's a Day Off, Aren't You Bored Alone?
It's a Day Off, Aren't You Bored Alone?
Finally, a day off. My first real one in ages, given the relentless pileup of work.
I've been running nonstop for a solid month.
I'd been looking forward to this. The plan was to do absolutely nothing. Just rot at home in spectacular, well-earned sloth.
But now that it was here, I found myself agonizing over a single, crucial question: what the hell do I eat?
Coco egg fry? Omelet rice? Spam? Or maybe I should swing by the restaurant, grab some of that fish sleeping in the cold storage, and grill it up?
"Decisions, decisions..."
It was never this hard when I cooked with the staff. Back then, I just made whatever the kids wanted.
Andrea would eat anything with meat. Bldi just needed some blood and garlic. Heimer and the other knights never complained—they'd devour anything I put in front of them.
But deciding what to cook for myself? That was a whole different problem.
Nothing really jumps out at me.
There was some leftover kimchi from the restaurant. I could whip up a quick kimchi stew or some kimchi-bokkeumbap. Fast, easy, and not half bad.
"Come to think of it, it's almost kimjang season."
The air had turned chilly. The leaves were going deep red and gold, some already spiraling down from the branches. If autumn looked like this down south, the imperial capital was probably already steeped in early winter.
"I should set aside a day next week for the kimjang."
And eat some bossam while we're at it.
But that was next week's problem. Not today's.
"Hmm..."
What to eat.
I was deep in thought when—
Knock, knock.
A familiar voice sounded through the door.
"Boss! I'm here!"
Andrea. I'd explicitly told her to take the day off and rest. So what was she doing at my door?
I pulled it open.
There she stood—dressed in a slightly low-cut two-piece, the kind popular among the women of the Empire's south—wearing a wide grin.
Unlike her usual work clothes, she was in a flowing skirt that swayed gently as she shifted her weight back and forth.
"What's up? It's your day off. You should be resting at home."
"I got bored all by myself."
"So you came here?"
"Yes. What about you, Boss? Aren't you lonely on your own?"
I was about to say I wasn't lonely, but the moment our eyes met, I shrugged. Her expression made it pretty clear what answer she was fishing for.
"I'm lonely."
"Great! Boss, would you like to go out together? It's been a while."
"Go out?"
"Yes! Today, I'm buying!"
I blinked at the sudden proposition.
"I mean, I've been eating your cooking every single day. I want to cook for you, but I'm terrible at it... so instead, I'll introduce you to a really good place."
Andrea puffed out her chest and launched into her pitch. She radiated absolute confidence in this restaurant of hers.
"Sounds like you've found a winner."
"Of course! It's the best in Britten—no, the best in the Empire. The Boss will be more than satisfied, and you are literally the greatest chef around."
That good, huh?
Andrea didn't survive solely on my cooking. I handled most of the staff's meals, but I obviously couldn't cover their diet on days off. I knew she usually either hunted or explored the local eateries around Britten whenever the restaurant was closed.
I looked at her.
Her eyes sparkled, brimming with a mix of nerves and anticipation.
She'd come all the way to my door. I couldn't exactly turn her down.
"Alright. Give me a minute to wash up and change."
"W-wash..."
"Just come inside. No need to wait out there."
"Huh? Ah. Yes! O-okay!"
Squeak. Squeak.
Andrea's limbs seemed to have forgotten how limbs worked—she moved with all the grace of a rusted joint.
"Drink some tea while you wait."
"I c-can wait as long as you need! Really!"
I left her standing there, ramrod straight as if a drill sergeant had just materialized in my living room, and headed for the shower.
You have no idea how happy it makes me that you can shower freely even in a medieval fantasy world. They say the Empire measures civilization by a single standard.
Whether or not you can shower at home.
Installing a shower required a whole network of magical equipment. A water supply system to draw the water, a pump to push it, plus a boiler that could instantly adjust the temperature every time you touched the lever.
Naturally, the Britten territory had no such infrastructure. Except in precisely three locations.
One was Viscount Britten's castle. Another was my house. The last one was the staff dormitory of the Knight Restaurant.
I spent an absolute fortune on this gear. A significant chunk of my startup costs went straight into this shower.
But I'll say it a hundred times: being able to wash with warm water whenever you want is pure, undiluted happiness. I mean that from the bottom of my soul.
Those first few months after I got here were hell.
I let the hot water pour over me and raced through the shower.
Once I'd scrubbed clean from head to toe and dried off, I wrapped a robe around my waist and stepped out.
"Hhghk!"
Andrea, who'd been kneeling in the living room staring lasers through her teacup, whipped her head toward me. Her eyes went wide as lanterns.
She bit down on her lip and immediately dropped her gaze to the floor.
"What's wrong?"
"You. should. probably. put. on. clothes."
Still staring at the floor, Andrea's intonation and delivery had gone completely haywire, like a glitched-out automaton. Her ears had turned bright crimson. That was when I finally realized I was standing there in nothing but a robe.
"Ah, sorry. Post-shower habit."
"It. is. fine."
She still couldn't meet my eyes, answering like a broken music box while practically craning her neck the other way. I half-worried she was going to sprain something.
I apologized quickly to Andrea—whose face had now joined her ears in the red spectrum—and went to put on proper clothes.
"Shall we?"
"...Y-yes. Let's."
She was still fumbling her words. Couldn't blame her. She'd just gotten an unexpected eyeful of a half-naked man.
Honestly, I should probably just be grateful she hadn't screamed and attacked me.
I'll make it up to her later.
With that thought, Andrea and I headed toward Britten's central market.
***
The spot that now housed Britten's central market was, just a few months ago, nothing but an empty lot.
Once my Knight Restaurant opened, other eateries sprouted up around it. Merchants began coming through Britten, and as more customers from neighboring territories flocked to my place, a commercial district naturally took shape.
Money flows where people gather, as they say. As a result, Britten's central market ended up not quite in the center—it sat a bit on the outskirts.
—Too far from the castle. Damn inconvenient.
Viscount Britten had grumbled about it, but what could he do? The market had already formed.
At any rate, the central market that had grown up around the restaurant wasn't as large as the one in Lilyan, but it had a little bit of everything.
"Oh, Sir Lucas! Isn't today your day off? What brings you to the market?"
"Good morning, Sir Lucas."
"Are you opening the restaurant today?"
I wouldn't exactly call it a perk, but most of the merchants here knew my face.
"What's this? Are you two on a date today?"
Motan, who ran the noodle shop in the market, asked with a gregarious laugh.
"Wha— no! That's— that's not it!"
Andrea's face went red as she furiously waved her hands in denial. Motan just laughed harder at how flustered she was.
"You're both in the prime of your youth! Of course you should set aside time together on your day off. Bwahaha!"
With a hearty country laugh, Motan held out some freshly made noodles.
"Fresh pasta, pulled today. Take it home and cook it. Our knight's cooking is legendary, after all."
"Thank you."
I accepted the noodles and walked on with her through the market streets.
"You've gotten pretty close with the market folks," I said.
"Well, it's on my commute, and a lot of them come by the restaurant. One thing led to another, I guess. Ha ha..."
She fidgeted with her fingers, looking a touch awkward.
"Remember when you never used to talk to people at all?"
"Those were the days. I was used to hunting alone. Talking to people was hard."
"What about now? Is the counter work tough?"
I suddenly recalled how she'd once said she wanted to learn to cook. I'd put off teaching her by saying she was needed at the counter. But back then, she'd been an elf who shunned conversation more than anyone. Now, she'd become this gentle.
"It's not really... No, let's not talk about work today. Today, we... the two of us... are going out together."
"Right. Okay."
We walked through the market, shoulders aligned.
Britten's central market was a different world from the markets I'd known in Korea.
Except for one identical thing.
"Give me a little discount, come on. How can you charge this much?"
"Aw, c'mon, sis. We're practically selling at a loss."
"Just give me one more. I won't ask for anything else."
"Ehhh? Sis!"
"Thank you."
It was bustling with people. Housewives haggling with merchants, families out shopping together, tourists from far away staring around in wonder.
The place was packed.
"This place has really developed," I murmured.
Just as I was taking it all in, we arrived at the restaurant Andrea had been talking about.
"Nice atmosphere."
Situated on the edge of the market, the restaurant had a real ambiance. Not high-end luxury, but definitely not a rowdy tavern either.
I spotted a good number of families and couples among the diners.
It was the kind of place that catered to customers with a little coin to spare.
"Is it okay that I came here with you?"
"Of course. I chose this place specifically so we could come together."
"For us, specifically?"
"Yes. I-I mean, don't get the wrong idea! It's just... market research! Yeah, market research!"
As Andrea spluttered for cover, a server approached the table.
"Good afternoon. Do you have a reservation?"
"Yes. Under 'Andrea.'"
"Right this way, please."
For once, Andrea—who usually did the serving—was the one being guided to a seat by a waiter. She sat down.
"This feels weird," I said.
"What does?"
"We're usually the ones doing the serving. Being on the receiving end... it's a little strange."
"Ah... Yeah, it is."
I looked at Andrea sitting across from me. She seemed a bit tense—she couldn't sit still for a second.
"Ahem, ahh..."
Just then, not the server who'd first seated us, but a different man approached our table.
"Are you ready to order?"
"Bring us the dish you're most confident in."
At that moment, my eyes met those of the man who'd just walked up.
"Oh! Aren't you Sir Lucas?"
"You know me?"
"Is there a soul in Britten running a restaurant who doesn't know Sir Lucas? We owe our own business largely to you."
"I see."
"By any chance... is this a date?"
"A d-date...?!"
The man's words painted Andrea's face crimson.
"Something like that. My employee offered to treat me on our day off."
"Ha ha, you've got a wonderful employee there. I'll tell the chef to serve you our finest."
The man strode off briskly toward the kitchen. As I watched his retreating figure, I caught sight of Andrea's lips jutting out in a pout.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Her lips still set in a sulky frown, she grumbled under her breath. Whatever it was, I couldn't catch it.
The food arrived in the meantime.
It was arancini—a popular item in the south—and osso buco, a meat dish made from calf shank slow-braised in broth with assorted vegetables and white wine until meltingly tender. A kind of preparation that felt similar to suyuk.
It smells wonderful.
Whether from the southern spices or the MSG I'd helped popularize, a deep, savory richness hit my nose.
"Please, take a bite and give us your honest assessment. We've heard you're a master who has presented dishes directly to Her Highness the Princess and His Majesty the Emperor. We would be honored by your insight."
The head chef had personally delivered the food and now stood by my table like a towering jangseung statue.
I don't feel remotely qualified to hand out a verdict...
Western cuisine was not my main forte. Not that I couldn't cook it, but I didn't have the depth to critique fine dining of this caliber.
Sparkle, sparkle.
The chef and the floor manager gazed down at me with such intense, expectant light in their eyes that I almost winced.
This was awkward.
I cut a piece of the tender veal with my knife and ate it alongside the potato salad that had come with it.
The rich scent of butter, the pepper and assorted spices used as seasoning—they mingled with the savory depth of the meat to produce a deep, robust flavor. It was genuinely excellent.
If the dish didn't take so long to prepare, it was quite possibly good enough that I'd consider putting it on my own menu.
"Mm, this is really good."
"Truly?"
The chef's eyes lit up.
"It's genuinely delicious. This is a difficult cut to handle, but you've made it incredibly tender, and the meat's natural fragrance still lingers beautifully."
"You really think so?"
"Yes. You've cooked it so perfectly I've got nothing to say."
"Ha ha ha, thank you! Truly, thank you!"
The chef laughed heartily and bowed his head deeply.
"Oh, and your meal today is entirely on the house!"
"I feel bad about that."
"Not at all! Business in this town is booming largely thanks to Sir Lucas. Please, think of it as just a small repayment of a great debt!"
"Thank you."
The veal the chef had prepared was delicious. The arancini was equally memorable—a rich, sticky indulgence that coated the mouth.
It could've used a bit of kimchi, admittedly, but it was still good. The chef clearly had real skill.
The beaming chef departed, and I turned my gaze to Andrea, sitting across from me.
She was still pouting, sulkily watching the chef's back as she muttered under her breath.
"Ugh, with this, I'm not the one treating you anymore, Boss."
"Andrea?"
"Failed right from the start. Our very first date, just the two of us..."