A Noble's Dignity
Karem was every bit as dumbfounded as anyone else.
Elizabeth pushing a diet on her own son was one thing. He had never expected Alfred to agree so readily as well.
Yet Alfred was certain this, too, would become experience for Godwin.
At the extremes, this world held no shortage of nobles who never once considered their subjects' thoughts or circumstances—who regarded them as worth less than the appetizing steak on their own plates. Of course, those extremes were few in number. Even so, it was also true that a great many nobles raised bloodline, honor, and power like walls and failed to consider the common people at all.
How dare some lowborn try to lecture a noble? they would say.
That said, Europa had more than enough rulers who rejected that attitude and practiced good governance in their domains. Alfred was one of them.
Alfred's earliest concern regarding Iceland had been the food situation of his people, and that interest dated back long before he was even confirmed as heir. How deep did it run? Deep enough that he had slipped out of Winterhome in secret, gone to what was now called the outer castle, and personally eaten the commoners' staple food.
That was when Alfred first encountered oats.
And of course, he was shocked.
How on earth could anyone eat something like this?
Until then, Alfred had never even seen oats. No matter how barren Iceland was, he was a noble. Not just any noble—a great noble. The direct line of a ducal house, and the eldest son at that. He had torn into black bread and barley bread, and when even that ran short he had gone hunting. Even if he went hungry for lack of food, he had never once eaten oats.
The reason was simple. He was a noble. That was how he had been raised.
But he could not simply look past it when far too many people could not even get oats, and were reduced to chewing tree bark and grass roots. No—starving people were everywhere. And he was in Coldon. The capital of Iceland, its largest city. If even Coldon was like that, what of the remote towns and villages beyond his reach?
That was when it began—Alfred eating oats himself while turning the nobles of Iceland upside down and pouring everything into goods and produce. It continued before he became heir, after, and even after he ascended as Duke.
And opportunity came quickly.
In the early days of his rule after succeeding as Duke of Iceland, a merchant spent a fortune for the chance to meet the young Alfred. The merchant was neither a noble bastard nor a fallen noble of diluted blood—just a commoner by birth. An ordinary noble would have tested the waters by squeezing this and that under the pretext of taxes. Alfred bet everything on that courageous merchant.
Fortunately, the fruit of that gamble rewrote the fate of Iceland. And the catalyst for it all was one thing: a single bowl of porridge boiled from nothing better than livestock feed—grass roots, tree bark, and oats.
Of course, he no longer ate oats himself. Even so, the taste was a bit much for him to keep eating it.
Anyway, Alfred wanted Godwin to have some turning point in his thinking, even if it was not the same realization he himself had reached.
Elizabeth's reason, on the other hand, was very simple.
Seated on the sofa, Elizabeth narrowed her eyes as she looked down at Karem, who was awkwardly observing the formalities.
"So you're saying that simply switching the staple to oats will produce that much of an effect?"
"Ah—of course mayonnaise is a given, and all desserts and greasy dishes will have to be banned as well."
"That goes without saying. But you're not planning to have him eat only oats, are you?"
"I intend to serve properly prepared dishes alongside them."
"Hmm. Then won't he simply focus on the dishes and ignore the oats?"
"That's why we need someone at his side to attend Young Master Godwin and keep the situation under control—"
"Victor will be enough. He was already the boy's attendant, after all—"
(By her standards) he had gotten far too fat. And in far too short a time, at that. Many people failed to understand. Elizabeth had no particular desire to make them understand. Even when she had married into this island from another country, few people had understood her.
No—if anything, Godwin's diet was already later than she had thought it should be. Alfred had opposed it all this time. Even that, she would never have gotten permission for if Alfred's eyes had not gone round at the cost of replacing Godwin's entire wardrobe after just one month of summer.
"Hmm, Duchess. But shouldn't we delay the timing a little?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Kid. Or rather—soon there'll be an appointment ceremony combined with a reward presentation at the evening banquet in the grand hall. Have you forgotten?"
"Uh, an appointment ceremony?"
"Iona. The rescue party. Gordon?"
At the words listed one by one as if to say have you forgotten?, Karem finally recalled that Gordon's appointment ceremony was right around the corner.
"Ah. Right."
Alfred also stroked his beard as he recalled the fact he had momentarily forgotten. All because of the shocking word "oats."
A primary reward ceremony for successfully rescuing the Chief Seneschal of the ducal house. (The second would be held once the subjugation force returned.) And on top of that, the appointment of a Sword Master, no less.
Of course, the scale of the banquet for this would not match Winter-Ascend. But with the name of a Duke attached, it had to be large and splendid in keeping with that. Naturally, the number of attendees would be proportional as well. And of course, equally splendid and dazzling cuisine. Desserts, in particular, would have to shine in that place.
If only for the stable establishment of the Red Witch's Fingers and the belatedly added vanilla business and distribution that Alfred himself was planning, this absolutely had to go forward.
"My dear. For the sake of the schedule as well, Godwin's diet should—"
Having finished that train of thought, Alfred turned to Elizabeth and carefully broached the subject.
"No. If anything, that's all the more reason he needs to be on the diet."
"Fortunately you understa— wait. My dear?"
"Fred. Important matters like this must be decided quickly, like cutting through a tangled rope in one stroke, without dragging them out."
Otherwise every sort of side effect would come flooding out at once, wouldn't they?
But before Alfred could even open his mouth to object, Elizabeth whipped her head around to look at Karem.
"Karem. From the way you're talking, I take it you can provide something with the dignity befitting an evening banquet, rather than the sorry diet I demanded from the kitchen for Godwin?"
"Uh, the oats themselves can't be helped. But as for the dishes served with them—"
"Then there's no problem."
"Uh, Duchess? Is that really all right?"
"Of course it is!"
Elizabeth nodded heavily, resolve firm in her bearing.
"Godwin is following the diet well for now, but the longer time stretches on, the more other thoughts will start to bloom—that's instinct, Fred. You know that too."
"Well, most people are like that, aren't they?"
"But he hasn't even been on the diet for long yet. What happens if we start compromising already? Today it's the reward ceremony and appointment, next it's the Sabbath, and after that a holiday becomes the excuse, doesn't it?"
"Uh... hmm?"
That far? Alfred looked doubtful. Of course Godwin had put on weight compared to last year. He hadn't thought it was enough to make one frown—but it seemed his beloved wife Elizabeth saw things differently.
Well, as long as it didn't outshine the other dishes at the evening banquet, did it matter? He had been eating far too much mayonnaise, after all. And more than anything, his wife had never pushed this hard before—
"True. Compromising from the very start wouldn't look good, even if later on might be different."
"Then, Your Excellency. May I go ahead and prepare?"
"Yes. Karem. I know your skills well enough that I couldn't pretend otherwise. But I don't think I'll be able to offer much help. If anything, I may need yours—the banquet is right around the corner, after all."
Even if it was not on the scale of Winter-Ascend, all sorts of power holders would be attending for various purposes, and dishes would have to be prepared in proportion to their status and numbers. In other words, every kitchen in Winterhome's main castle had already been preparing for the banquet nonstop on top of their regular work for quite some time.
Ordinarily it would only have been a little hard, but there was no helping it. A non-negligible number of staff were out on assignment, so things were stretched thin even now. In short, they were already overloaded.
Of course Karem knew that part as well.
"Yes. It's perfectly possible."
"Good. Reliable as always. Ah, and one more thing. Share the recipes for the dishes Godwin will eat with the kitchen."
"Uh, of course. They're only recipes, after all."
"If they're only set in front of Godwin, the picture of the banquet will look unnatural and people will talk, so we need to compensate for that as much as possible."
"In that case, Your Excellency, I think I'll need to go to the main castle's kitchen. Is that all right?"
"Hmm? The kitchen?"
"Yes. If I just hand over the recipes as-is, it'll only add to the confusion when they're already busy, so I think I have no choice but to show them a sample."
"Ah, I'd forgotten that point for a moment. But are you planning to unveil yet another new recipe?"
"Well, with Young Master Godwin losing weight, he shouldn't be eating most of the existing dishes. I'll have to come up with new dishes tailored to him."
Alfred was impressed. Judging by the fire in Karem's eyes, he was serious.
"Hah. To volunteer for such troublesome work yourself."
"It's nothing. It's a chef's job. And while there will be newly created dishes, I also have a few things in mind that I learned from the Head Chef."
Catherine, who had been watching Karem with a lukewarm gaze, shook her head as if to say there was no helping him—yet inwardly she was pleased. New menu items were always welcome, after all.
There was just one catch.
"But kid."
"Hm? Yes?"
"Young Master Godwin is one thing. You're not seriously thinking of serving that to the other tables too, are you?"
"Uh, that?"
"The thing that's going to become Young Master Godwin's staple from now on."
"Ah, oat rice? Well..."
That much, certain people would never allow. With that meaning in his eyes, Karem shifted his gaze from Catherine to the ducal couple.
Alfred waved both hands at once.
"No. That I cannot permit. No matter how it's prepared, we cannot serve oats at a banquet."
"The Felwinter family has its dignity, after all. If it were the high table with only family, maybe. But I can't even imagine what people would say if something like that appeared on the tables of a hall full of guests."
This time Elizabeth had no choice but to wave her hands in agreement as well. They wouldn't see the oats placed at the high table from the grand hall's tables, so that was fine—but even so, they could not serve oats to the ducal house's precious guests.
"Well, too bad for you, kid..."
"Huh? What's too bad?"
"Your evil plan to feed your oats to the entire world. Ugh, just hearing it is horrifying."
"What? When did I ever think that? And is that really something to call evil?"
"So you're saying it's not? It's oats. The lord and lady were generous enough to allow it, but if you'd said that to an ordinary noble, in the worst case your head could have been cut off. You know that, right?"
"That's because the way people eat oats is all wrong."
"The fixed perception has been set in stone for a long time already."
"Ah, well, Lady Alicia—"
Alfred, who had been quietly listening to the banter between his two subjects, could not help but cut in.
"Alicia? Why is Alicia coming up all of a sudden?"
Oh no.
In other words, why was their adorable, precious little Alicia suddenly being mentioned? Wait—surely he hadn't fed that to Alicia?
Alfred did not voice any of that aloud, but it was more than enough. The terrifying father (in truth) who only wanted to feed his darling youngest daughter the best of everything was saying it all with his expression. And Elizabeth, seated beside him, felt exactly the same.
Karem's reaction was swift.
"I offer my unconditional apology!"
Under a gaze that said go on, try to explain, Karem described the situation at the time as factually as possible while absorbing Catherine's appalled stare that said you actually did that?
And thanks to his past achievements, he managed to earn forgiveness—barely.
He had been given a warning, but forgiveness was forgiveness.