Firing the Clay
It took a long time for the kiln, made by plastering clay over a stacked stone tower, to dry completely.
Once the stone tower was fully dry, Chester pulled out the stones from the very bottom layer where he had intentionally left them unplastered. Removing the stones revealed a hollow space inside. This would serve as the firebox where he would feed the firewood.
Since he had cleared away all the grass around the kiln before building the tower, starting a fire posed no danger. Above this bottom firebox, he had placed a large, flat stone slab. He had reinforced that slab with clay before continuing to stack the stones to finish the tower, but he had also left a few stones unplastered in the middle section of the kiln. Chester pulled those remaining stones out as well. This middle chamber would be where the clay items would be placed to bake.
He didn't bother clearing away the removed stones, leaving them right next to the kiln. They would be used to block the openings and trap the heat once the fire was lit.
"Are we baking a cake now? Where are we going to get the ingredients?"
"The sinkers come first."
"What?! No way!"
Chester gently pushed away Monia's face as she tried to cling to him in protest, then went to fetch the sinkers he had crafted while the kiln was drying.
Why had the first batch of sinkers cracked so easily when he tried to bake them right after shaping? Chester figured it was because the water inside the clay evaporated too quickly, causing the clay to expand and its structure to collapse. Therefore, he had decided that for the next attempt, he would let them air-dry to some extent before firing them. The sinkers he brought out now were the ones that had been thoroughly dried.
And there wasn't just one. Knowing they might fail, he had spent every spare moment shaping more, resulting in a batch of over ten sinkers.
"Alright, time for the first trial run."
After tossing in some embers to start the fire, he placed the sinkers inside the kiln. He couldn't fit all ten, of course, but five of them went in without a hitch. Once they were inside, Chester also tossed one of the sinkers directly into the open campfire.
"Wait, why are you putting one in there?"
"To see what happens when you bake fully dried clay over an open flame."
Having distributed the sinkers between the kiln and the campfire, he blocked the kiln's openings with the stones.
"There, done."
"But how long do we have to bake them?"
"How should I know? I'm planning to keep the fire going all day, though."
"Eek. That long? What a waste of firewood."
"Hahaha. I never thought I'd hear the word 'waste' come out of your mouth."
"What's that supposed to mean?! If we burn through all our firewood, we'll have to go chop more in this sweltering heat! I hate doing that!"
"Haha, hahahaha!"
"Why are you laughing?!"
A duke's daughter taking hard labor for granted and worrying about wasting resources. It was impossible not to laugh. As Chester roared with laughter, a pouting Monia began to pummel his chest, but her dainty fists didn't even register as a tickle to him.
"Ahahaha!"
If anything, his laughter only grew louder.
"Grrr!!"
Unable to contain her fury, Monia instinctively lashed out and kicked Chester square in the shin.
"Argh!"
"Oh."
"Ow! Son of a—! Ow! My shin!"
"Oho. What a spectacular reaction."
It was the very first kick of Monia's life.
"Ha! How do you like that? Don't you dare look down on me ever again!"
"You little...! You need to be taught a lesson! Who do you think has been feeding you and giving you a place to sleep all this time?!"
"Eek! You have a lot of nerve for someone who wouldn't even give me water and told me to get my own food! I still haven't forgotten the grudge of you abandoning me on the very first day!"
"If that's how you feel, get out of the shelter I built!"
"I helped build it too, you know?! We gathered the materials together! I have a share in it!"
"You just won't lose a single argument, will you...!"
"Fufu, I've learned! Fight and conquer!!"
The duke's daughter had been thoroughly stained by the harshness of the wild, courtesy of the Floating Island and Chester. The elegance, aristocratic poise, refined tone, and etiquette that the Duke had spent years drumming into her head had vanished into thin air. Instead, she was speaking like a tyrant, a coup-plotting usurper, or a flat-out barbarian.
After their little scuffle, Chester decided to start cooking while keeping an eye on the blazing kiln. Claiming that eating alone made the food taste bad, Monia sat right next to him to prepare her own meal.
"Let's experiment with this today!"
With those words, Monia produced a long, orange fruit.
"Ah, that. Didn't you throw those away after eating them before? Though the color is different."
"Fufufu, when we made the strawberry mash, I realized that if you leave fruit alone, it gets sweeter over time."
"Uh, right."
"So, I secretly left one of these aside too."
Where on earth had she hidden it? Chester had no idea it was even in the shelter.
"And then, wow! Amazingly, the color started to change as time passed!"
"I see."
"I checked it today and saw it had turned completely orange, so I figured it was ready to eat and brought it over!"
Is it possible that it's just rotten?
Chester poured the tea he had boiled in a wooden cup back into the water container, watching Monia poke at the fruit with an excited, pounding heart.
"Let's see..."
As Monia gently nudged it with her bamboo spoon, the fruit's skin began to split open along its natural grain.
"Ooh! It's so soft! It used to be rock hard!"
"There's definitely a huge difference."
"Hmph! You can stare all you want, but I'm not sharing!"
"No, I'm fine... It's not like I'll die if I don't eat it."
Chester didn't possess an appetite quite as voracious as Monia's. Monia split the fruit wide open, scooped up the softened flesh with her bamboo spoon, and popped it into her mouth.
"Nom."
As she chewed the tender flesh, its rich aroma and flavor melted across her palate.
"Mmmph!"
Overwhelmed by the taste, Monia stomped her feet and squirmed, savoring every bit of the flavor.
"Wow! This is delicious! It's amazing!"
Watching Monia repeatedly gasp in ecstasy as if she had lost her mind, Chester was reminded of the moment she first tasted pork. She had reacted the exact same way back then, hadn't she?
"Mmm! Mmm! Fufufu!"
She took another bite, nodding contentedly as she savored the taste, then took another, twisting and writhing her entire body in sheer delight...
After a long stretch of this dramatic display, Monia finally finished the entire fruit and held up the empty skin with a refreshed expression.
"I love this!"
"Do you?"
"Yes! It has a rich, deep flavor reminiscent of butter from Mount Ahlongbach or the cheese supplied to the royal court of Gasana, but with a clean, refreshing finish that doesn't feel too heavy on the tongue!"
Just how expensive were the butter and cheese she was talking about? Chester couldn't even begin to imagine.
The Kingdom of Gasana is quite far away. She's actually tasted their royal imports?
Regardless of Chester's internal musings, Monia continued her passionate praise of the fruit.
"Alright! I've decided! I shall personally dub this fruit: 'The Floating Island Specialty Fruit Possessing the Rich Aroma of Mount Ahlongbach Butter and Gasana Royal Court Cheese'!"
Monia was naming the fruit in the typical noble fashion, like "A Dish of Meat Sourced from Such-and-Such, Prepared with Such-and-Such Ingredients via Such-and-Such Culinary Method."
Why do nobles love dragging things out and speaking as if they're delivering a grand lecture?
"Just call it cheesebutter."
"Cheesebutter? What's wrong with the name I came up with?!"
"It's too long. It's a pain to say."
"..."
Monia pondered this for a moment, then nodded in reluctant agreement.
"Well, I suppose you have a point. Fine! I shall graciously bestow upon this fruit the name 'Cheesebutter,' born from your utterly lacking naming sense, Chester!"
"Yes, yes. How incredibly generous of you."
Chester sipped the hodgepodge stew he had made while Monia was busy worshiping and devouring her fruit.
"Show a little more gratitude!"
She's just hyper because she ate something delicious.
She had been the same way after eating the pork. Knowing she would calm down soon enough, Chester ignored her excitement, quietly eating his meal while keeping his eyes on the kiln.
...Letting them dry first keeps them from exploding, even when exposed to direct flame.
Of course, some of them might still turn out cracked or broken once he pulled them out, but at least they hadn't shattered with a loud bang like the first time.
That explosion before was probably a mix of bad luck too. There must have been a pocket of trapped water inside the clay, which caused it to burst.
Thanks to that failure, he now knew that preparing clay wasn't just a matter of throwing water and dirt together; it required meticulous, thorough kneading.
"Fufufu! Since I'm in a splendid mood today, I shall sing for you."
Monia began to sing an opera—one she used to book the absolute best seats for back in the capital whenever it was in town. Since Chester had heard it countless times while accompanying her, he hummed along, filling in the male vocal parts.
For a while, the two of them enjoyed their own modest, private opera in the middle of the forest.
And the next day.
"Let's open it up."
After keeping the fire going long enough and giving the kiln ample time to cool, Chester reached out. As he carefully removed the stones blocking the entrance, a wave of trapped heat rushed out from inside.
"Hmm."
Reaching in with his bare hands seemed like a bad idea. Chester picked up two thick wooden sticks, holding one in each hand to use like a pair of tongs, and pulled out one of the sinkers.
"Now, let's see how well this turned out."