Tear-Soaked Tasting Session - 3
The reason the three kingdoms’ side couldn’t handle snacks made by a mere six people was simple. They had dared to eat a proper meal first and then try to snack with whatever room was left in their stomachs. Weaklings. You had to dig in with the resolve to make a meal of the snacks themselves—how could they challenge the Baking Club’s stronghold with that half-hearted attitude?
Of course, I was the abnormal one for treating snacks as meals, and the three kingdoms hadn’t so much challenged the Baking Club’s stronghold as been mowed down in a one-sided hit-and-run. That was why I couldn’t push any further when Villar appealed to me with those gloomy eyes.
In the end, after circling all the way around, I was back to handling the majority of the snacks myself. Still, having a few more mouths was a gain. Yeah, that was enough. I was satisfied. Totally satisfied.
Even if it meant chewing cookies during my periodic video report with the Minister, I was satisfied.
“Oh, by the way—the Club Expo is coming up soon, isn’t it?”
“You remember that?”
“Unlike a certain someone, I actually attended the Academy.”
“Damn.”
We had been trading the usual “here’s what happened” updates when the Expo came up, and the Minister stroked his chin as he spoke.
I wondered why a man who wouldn’t even be coming knew the Expo schedule, but if I asked I would only get Tai Chi for my trouble. On anything Academy-related I was overwhelmingly at a disadvantage no matter what I said. I had forgotten that for a moment.
In that bleak mood I picked up another cookie and bit into it; the Minister, watching, opened his mouth.
“You don’t even like cookies, do you?”
Where had that come from all of a sudden? He had rolled through the field with me—he should have known perfectly well I didn’t pick at my food. I chewed the cookie in my mouth roughly and swallowed. Of course he had to speak up while I was eating.
“It’s not that I dislike them. I just don’t go out of my way to look for them.”
“This from the guy who wouldn’t even put them near his mouth for the past two years.”
“Your Excellency.”
At my reaction the Minister clicked his tongue once and waved a hand.
“All right, all right. Don’t look at me like that. I said something unnecessary.”
“No. I overreacted.”
“And the kid knows it, too.”
An awkward silence settled. I was embarrassed for reacting so sharply, and the Minister was surely sheepish for bringing up a topic that still sat poorly. Honestly it wasn’t something I should still be reacting to like this—but feelings didn’t always obey orders.
I scratched my head awkwardly and steered us back to the Expo. I still hadn’t mentioned that we had decided to cooperate with the three kingdoms’ forces.
I reported that we would bring part of the three kingdoms’ strength into the booth so that our side could concentrate on escorting the key figures. If those people wandered around outside and either a principal guest got hurt or they clashed with Imperial nobles, it would be a headache. The Minister seemed to think it was a decent measure; he only nodded a few times.
“A multinational club booth, huh. An Expo I never would have imagined.”
“Foreign students have been around from time to time, haven’t they? This is the first time high-ranking ones have come, though.”
“In my day the atmosphere wasn’t one where foreigners enrolled.”
A fine “back in my day” performance. Noted, loud and clear.
I nodded vaguely and let the Minister’s old stories drift in one ear and out the other. Nothing especially important. He seemed to have mentioned it without much thought either.
“All right, get to it. There will be quite a few faces showing up for the Expo.”
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
“A few people from the Administration will drop by as well, so don’t be startled.”
“Pardon?”
With that as his last word the Minister unilaterally cut the connection. Come on—how could you toss out the most important part at the very end like an afterthought? He really was going senile.
Please just drop dead of a sudden illness somewhere.
It was a wish I had carried in my heart for a very long time.
The next day, during club hours, the second round of reporting convened. Unfortunately my reports were not directed solely at the Minister.
“We’re going to need a lot of hands during the Expo period, so I’ve already asked for help. Familiar faces will be coming, so don’t worry about it.”
Outwardly we were advisor and members, but in reality I was little more than their babysitter doing the dirty work, so I had to tell them the moment anything came up. Dual reporting—truly a nightmare.
Anyway, when I relayed that part of the three kingdoms’ forces would be joining the club booth, the reactions varied. Luise was purely delighted that their manpower was increasing; Erich and Ainter took it in stride. The problem was the other three.
They didn’t raise objections because Luise was happy, but their expressions were thoroughly lukewarm. They seemed bothered that underlings would be present at the very place where their (one-sided) romance campaigns were supposed to bloom. Or maybe they simply disliked any outsider who might interfere even a little with sticking close to Luise.
Either way, they’re lunatics.
I wondered whether these bastards had any idea how much Villar had agonized before accepting my proposal. They might have been born with underlings glued to them like NPCs or pets, but I still wished they would treat people with a little more care.
“These are people who willingly agreed to an unreasonable request, so we can’t afford to look like we’re taking it easy. Everyone give it your all during the Expo period.”
Stripped of courtesy, it meant: don’t crawl out of the booth—sit quietly and stay put. We had gone to the trouble of gathering escort forces; if they wandered off and came back injured, both Villar and I might actually lose our minds.
“This is the Expo we’ve been waiting for—there’s no way we’d half-ass it. Don’t worry about us!”
Fortunately they understood words at that level; led by Ryutis, the members answered in the affirmative. Good. If people of their rank couldn’t even grasp something this plain, we’d be in real trouble. At least they weren’t showing me the basement under the basement floor.
What a mess.
I resented a situation where I had to take comfort in something this small. What sin had I committed that even at the Academy I had to feel like I was dealing with my division chiefs? At least in the Audit Department I had a deputy and a fifth-section chief to lean on.
In that bitter mood I glanced toward Luise. Our eyes met; she beamed, clenched both fists, and struck a fighting pose. Yeah. Fighting…
I returned an awkward smile and raised one arm in a fighting pose of my own. The anger that had nowhere to go in my heart sank away into emptiness.
“Let’s get started. We’ve been making so many that our hands are getting used to it.”
And with Erich’s words as the signal, the confectionery factory started up again. At times like this I was grateful there were only six members. Other clubs easily ran past ten; if we had been the same, we would have ended up with snacks we had to throw away.
Smells good.
Their skill really did seem to be improving little by little. As expected, performance went up when you worked people—same in every field. I felt a little happier.
Even after setting aside the snacks meant for the three kingdoms’ side, the amount I still had to eat was larger than usual. What you’re supposed to increase is the taste, not the quantity.
Fortunately—very fortunately—a kind benefactor appeared who would share these nightmarishly piled-up things with me. This time I had not invited Villar as the day’s dumpster.
“Young Master Karl. Are you the sort who likes desserts?”
For some reason Margeta had come by after club hours ended. Her eyes went wide at the snacks heaped all over the desk.
“Not particularly. The members made them, and it seemed a waste to throw them out, so I’ve been eating them.”
Hearing my answer, Margeta nodded and carefully took the seat across from me. Even someone who went crazy for sweets wouldn’t eat this volume. No wonder she had been startled.
“But what brings you here?”
“I came to ask whether Young Master Karl has time.”
Watching Margeta speak with a gentle smile, I tilted my head a little.
Until now Margeta had only come to see me in the mornings. Afternoons I would be busy, so better to settle things in the morning—that had been her approach. Aside from club hours there wasn’t much in my afternoons either, yet she had still protected that time for me. And now, all of a sudden?
Not that I mind.
I was simply curious why a duke’s daughter who kept every word she uttered would reverse herself.
“Yes, it’s fine. Is something the matter?”
“The Expo is right around the corner, so I thought I might ask for Young Master Karl’s help in the afternoons as well. It isn’t urgent, so refusing is perfectly all right.”
After all, Young Master Karl’s morning help was already more than enough.
Margeta added that last part; I considered for a moment, then nodded. It wasn’t urgent, but she would naturally prefer to finish the work early. Finishing ahead of schedule left room when variables exploded. Entirely understandable.
“It isn’t a difficult request. Of course.”
“Thank you, Young Master Karl.”
Margeta answered while still holding her smile. Looking at her, my gaze drifted of its own accord down to the snacks stacked on the desk. Their presence was simply too overwhelming to ignore.
Hmm.
I looked from the snacks to Margeta, then back to the snacks. A guest had come all this way—it would only be polite to offer her something.
“Mar. Would you like to have some with me?”
“Is there anything Young Master Karl made himself?”
“There isn’t.”
“What a shame.”
Watching Margeta chuckle, I let out a short laugh of my own. My role was more than enough if I just ate. If seven people started baking instead of six, I didn’t want to imagine the chaos.
“Then would you give me one that Young Master Karl likes?”
“All right.”
At those words I reached for Luise’s cookies and hesitated. To my palate these really were the best. But from the reactions of other tasters so far, they often didn’t suit other people’s tastes. Would it be all right to give these to Margeta?
The hesitation was brief. They were what I liked, and they might happen to suit Margeta’s palate as well.
“Here you are.”
“Thank you.”
In the end Luise’s cookie went into Margeta’s mouth. She ate quietly, elegantly, without any change of expression.
“It’s nice.”
She even had the composure to nod and offer an evaluation. See—I had thought they would suit someone’s taste. In my delighted mood I offered her a few more, and Margeta didn’t refuse; she kept eating. Still not a flicker of expression.
This is what normal looks like.
The ones who claimed to want Luise’s love should have been showing faces like this. Not Margeta, who had given Luise that sharp advice—the hopeless five. As expected, this club packed with the original cast was the abnormal one. The moment I turned my eyes even a little away from the club, things became this normal and this peaceful.
“I’m sorry, Young Master Karl. I was the one who asked first, but it seems today may be a bit much after all.”
Perhaps I had kept Margeta longer than I meant to, buoyed by that long-missed sense of comfort; after accepting a few more, Margeta rose from her seat. Oops. Had I gotten a little carried away?
“Not at all. If anything, I feel I was the one who imposed.”
Seeing a two-eyed person after so long in a den of one-eyed people had simply made me too glad.
That night, in Margeta’s quarters.
Margeta lay face-down on the bed, her body twitching in small spasms.
“Hic… huuh…”
The moment she returned from the club room she had collapsed onto the bed; now she sniffled and soaked the pillowcase with tears.
It had been greed. Wanting to stay with Karl a little longer, she had broken her own word and even invented an excuse to go see him in the afternoon. A little embarrassing, yes—but if it meant she could be with Karl, she could endure that much embarrassment.
Fortunately Karl hadn’t seemed displeased; he had even offered her desserts, and the atmosphere had been warm. It should have been that way.
What do I do—he hated it…!
The taste had been horrifying. With that smiling face of his continuing to offer more, she hadn’t been able to refuse and had kept eating. Afraid Karl might be disappointed, she hadn’t even been able to say it tasted bad; she had desperately controlled her expression.
All sorts of thoughts had run through her head while she chewed. Was this his way of scolding a worthless duke’s daughter who couldn’t keep her own word—a greedy girl who tormented an already exhausted auditor? Was that why he was pushing her away with these nightmarish cookies?
Once her thoughts started sliding in a negative direction, tears nearly welled up. That was how she had barely managed to rise and escape the club room.
And when she reached the conclusion that she had only earned his dislike by getting greedy, Margeta’s heart grew even more wounded; she pulled the pillow close and buried her face deep into it.
That misunderstanding melted away like snow on a spring day the next morning, the moment Karl greeted the hesitantly approaching Margeta with a smile.
Margeta Barenti. A young lady whose overflowing confidence stood in exact proportion to her overflowing sensitivity.