A Midwinter Snack, Warm Salmon Bread
Karem received the taiyaki mold far faster than any of his previous commissions.
Apparently it was because winter had left the artisan guild short on work.
As a client, he could only be grateful.
A copper mold that sealed almost perfectly when closed. A hilariously shaped salmon engraved in place of the usual fish. A handle that stayed firmly attached even if you swung the thing around. Hinges that made not a single sound when moved.
The finished piece arrived upgraded in every way he had hoped for.
Even in his previous life, he had never seen a mold this luxurious.
"So this is what you ordered. An animal-shaped mold with a handle?"
Catherine, who had just finished lunch at the restaurant, turned the mold over in her hands while taking a short break, then set it down looking distinctly underwhelmed. It was identical to the one Karem was holding.
He had definitely ordered only one.
What Catherine was examining was a spare that Govanius had prepared.
A gift, he had said, to thank a regular customer for past patronage and to encourage more visits in the future. And since the salmon-bread molds had turned out easier to make than expected, he insisted Karem not feel burdened by it.
Wait—since the shape was a salmon, it wasn't taiyaki anymore. It was salmon bread, right?
"Planning to bake short, chubby salmon-shaped pancakes? Well, Lady Alicia would probably love them."
"Flora would like them too."
"True. For all that grown-up body, her mental age looks like a perfect copy of the young lady's, so of course she would."
Catherine closed her eyes for a moment after drinking Brownie's Joy loaded with sugar. Ever since returning from her last trip, she had been putting away at least six cups of roasted Alrune beverage every day.
Is it really okay for her to drink that much…?
A caffeine substitute was one thing, but six cups of coffee? Karem himself would have been awake for two straight nights after just two cups—his previous body had been ridiculously sensitive to caffeine.
Fortunately, the coffee substitute in front of her wasn't actual coffee.
Still, he had no intention of drinking that much himself.
"Got something you want to say?"
"No. Just that you seem to like the drink a lot more than I expected."
"Isn't that only natural?"
Catherine lifted her cup with a flourish, as if to show it off.
If it had been wine or milk inside, it would have immediately begun to rot with a foul stench and vanished into the air.
"You once guessed that the curse doesn't recognize Alrune byproducts as food, right?"
"I did. Every roasted Alrune drink I've had so far proves it. The Curse of Famine never triggers on beverages based on Alrune's Tear."
The logic that even if you mixed wine into muddy water, it was still just muddy water?
"Then doesn't that mean you could eat other things too?"
"Hm? What?"
"I can make as many dishes as I want that include roasted Alrune."
In that case, wouldn't other foods containing Alrune's Tear also be possible?
No—maybe even just roasted Alrune itself would work, without turning it into the Tear.
"Tiramisu, cream with roasted Alrune mixed in… that's all that comes to mind right now."
"…I never even considered that."
For the first time, Karem saw Catherine look completely dazed.
Her mouth hung slightly open as she blinked. Expectation gradually lit her face; the corners of her lips began to lift before she gave a small cough and composed her expression again.
"You're right. If it's a dish that includes roasted Alrune—the raw material for Alrune's Tear—then following that muddy-water logic of yours, the possibility isn't zero."
"While we're on the subject, want me to bake some right now?"
"With the mold you just received?"
"That's what I ordered it for."
Karem took the copper mold Catherine held out.
They had only just finished lunch, so snack time was still a long way off—but if they simply called it an early snack, it didn't matter. Even if they had already eaten a snack, it still wouldn't matter.
How full could salmon bread really make you, anyway?
There was always room for salmon bread, full stomach or not.
Thud, thud—bang!
The door flew open and Olivier strode in.
"Of all the—! Kitty! What in the world are you doing, lounging around here by yourself… Oh."
Olivier had been about to scold Catherine, whose face was twisted in irritation, when he spotted Karem turning the salmon-bread mold beside her and stopped short.
He smiled slyly.
"Did I come at a bad time?"
"…I don't particularly want to ask what 'time' you're referring to—"
"Dear me. At this rate I might get skewered by a unicorn."
"So what the hell is that damned 'time' supposed to be?"
"Oh, well. Hmm?"
Olivier glanced back and forth between Catherine's scowling face and Karem's baffled one, as if confirming something.
"Nothing actually happened?"
"We were just chatting with this while Mary went to clear the dishes."
"…Not spending some cozy little alone time together?"
Catherine froze like a cat that had just spotted a cucumber.
Karem's head began to heat up as if it might explode at any second.
Olivier heaved a sigh that seemed to sink into the earth. This hopelessly dense reaction made him want to tear his hair out, yet pointing it out also felt somehow wrong.
"A-alone time, my foot!"
"Kitty. Kitty. Oh, Kitty. How many years do you think I've watched you? Unlike the loose young people these days, pick up the pace a little!"
"You old coot and your useless nonsense!"
At Catherine's gesture, mana stirred and magic took form.
"Not a chance!"
It slammed into a small ice shield that had unfolded without a word. As always, Olivier blocked it as if it were nothing—yet his eyebrows twitched.
The power had half-pierced a defensive spell.
A dull impact still carried through even after the magic was stopped.
Catherine had clearly crossed the line the two of them had silently agreed upon.
No one would have blamed him if he had immediately exploded and struck back.
Instead, Olivier simply grinned with a look that said, I see how it is.
Naturally, that expression was perfectly visible to Catherine.
"Is this old man trying to waste my time with pointless garbage!? So what's your business!"
"Whoops. This old man got a little carried away by the fascinating sight."
Olivier flicked himself on the forehead and winked as if putting on a show for someone, and twin flames lit in Catherine's eyes.
"Yikes! Looks like I'm about to get hit. Jack Frost has appeared nearby. An urgent request came in asking us to join the subjugation. The Adventurers' Guild put up an emergency commission too."
"Y-y-y-you…"
The awkward atmosphere that had blown in so suddenly was swept away by the very person who had caused it.
With nowhere to vent her fury, Catherine could only glare at Olivier and claw sharply at the empty air.
"Ahem. So, uh… what's a Jack Frost, exactly?"
"Hm? What do you mean, what's a Jack Frost? Ah, right—none appeared last year, did they? Maybe because there was a bit less snow."
Less snow? Wondering what that was supposed to mean, Karem briefly thought back to this time last winter.
A leaden sky endlessly spewing snow. Mary building snow fortresses for more than half the day. The battlefield-like snow-clearing sites he had seen while following Catherine around.
Karem glanced out the window.
The inner-city streets were packed with Mary, busy with snow removal and construction, and people clearing snow. The way it looked, you would never guess the inner city had ever been quiet—and the outer city was probably even worse.
"It looks the same as last winter to me."
"No. This winter has had more snow."
"How would you know that?"
"When you get to my age, your back aches when it rains and your joints ache when it's cold. My joints are far stiffer than last winter."
Olivier thumped his knees, elbows, and various other spots with his fists as if to demonstrate. Well, people with bad backs supposedly could tell the weather by how much their backs hurt—this was exactly that sort of case.
"Hearing that, the snow castle Mary's building right now does seem a lot taller than last winter's masterpiece…"
"Y-y-y-you… Haaaaah…"
Catherine clenched into a fist the hand that had been clawing at empty air and let out a heavy breath.
"Estimated frequency of Jack Frost appearances?"
"The first sighting was in a village near Coldon, so if we delay even a little they'll pour into Coldon itself. We need to finish this within a week at the latest."
"Then there's a lot to prepare."
"Well, if you two young people are planning to spend some cozy alone time here—whoops!"
Shhhk—!
An ice stake packed with more power than before came flying.
The stake that had been streaking toward its target, Olivier, slammed with a bang! straight into the center of the door he had hastily closed while putting on an exaggerated show of panic.
Jack Frost.
While preparing the snack, Karem was able to hear about Jack Frost from Catherine.
In broad strokes it was similar to the folklore from his previous life.
Winter, ice fairies, and so on.
The difference was that although they were fairies, they were treated as monsters.
Like the fairies, they were harmful beasts that only brought people trouble.
Worse, they appeared randomly in large numbers during the cold of winter, and their temperaments were vicious—they roamed in packs attacking people, monsters, animals, cities, and villages without distinction.
"If even a single Jack Frost is found, it means there are at least ten more nearby, so every nearby city and village has to mobilize."
Mary, who had been whisking batter, made a sour face as if just thinking about it irritated her.
"But is it all right to call them 'one' like that?"
"Pardon? Is something the matter?"
"Well, even if they're treated as monsters, they're still fairies in the end. Aren't they distant relatives of yours?"
"Not every fairy is a relative, and not every fairy is the same race."
Tap, tap.
Mary knocked her whisk against the batter bowl.
Clumps of dough that hadn't fully dissolved fell free.
"If you ever say something like that in front of other fairies, I warn you not to. If they're prideful or have a bad temperament, you might get stabbed."
Karem nodded silently and took down the pot that had been simmering and bubbling on the stove.
"Is this batter enough, though?"
"What? Enough for what?"
"Don't you think it's too thin?"
The batter in the bowl was so thin it almost looked like a thick soup at a glance. It was exactly the consistency Karem wanted.
But Mary, who had received the order and stirred the batter all the way to completion, still couldn't shake the doubt that this couldn't possibly be right.
Of course, she was quite used to thin batter itself.
The pancakes she lived and died for used thin batter, after all.
She also used thin batter when making the fried foods she occasionally ate.
But the batter in front of her right now was the thinnest she had ever seen in her life.
"I did make a fully dissolved pancake batter base as ordered, but what exactly are you trying to make?"
"I'm going to put it in here and bake bread."
Karem picked up the object he had set beside him.
A copper mold with four intricately engraved salmon shapes, a handle, and hinges connecting the halves.
Mary already knew it was Karem's custom order.
So what?
"Planning to bake fish-shaped bread?"
"Of course."
"Well. It should be edible enough."
"That's not all."
Karem set the pot that had just been simmering on the stove down next to the batter bowl. The sweet aroma of thick green pea paste brushed Mary's nose.
"I'm putting this in."
"Hmm. Is that so."
"And if I add custard cream as well—"
"Shall I transfer the batter into a separate pitcher so it's easier to pour into the mold? And if we're using the paste, it would be better to cool it first. Let's hurry and prepare everything for our contractor, who will be working hard in this cold weather."
And for your own appetite, too?
Karem silently asked the question as he watched Mary clap her hands together.
If Mary had heard him, the answer would have been all too obvious.