The Empire's First Cooking Master (3)
The chief steward carried off the final course, dried World Tree leaf tea, without so much as a wobble.
When I had briefed him, I had called it nothing more than a mysterious tea procured from Nuardel and told him to describe it that way, so there should not have been any trouble. Leonik knew what I could do, but there was no need to advertise that even the World Tree's byproducts were available for trade.
And once every course was finished, a sudden lightness hit me at the same time as a sudden worry.
The food would be delicious. Of that I had no doubt. I was confident I had made it as good as any modern restaurant, or better. Even so, the reason I felt hollow, turning the same problem over and over, was simple.
I am an idiot. A complete pushover.
I had served the entire course without ever deciding what I meant to ask for afterward.
No. The last time he had summoned me privately and told me to name what I wanted, plenty of things had come to mind. A house in Silbaerin and another in Belegrad. Enough gold coin that I would never have to worry about money for the rest of my life. A request on that scale would have been granted easily enough if I had made it then. However closely the courtiers watched, this was spending on an emperor's scale. His vassals would most likely have shrugged and let it pass.
This time was different.
As my reward for distinguished service, I had been given the chance to present Leonik with a formal banquet. Put another way, I had obtained a pretext—grounds on which I could demand whatever I wanted and actually receive it. I no longer had to watch my step the way I had during the merit ceremony. I had a legitimate claim even if I asked for a mountain of gold and jewels, or five magnificent villas in the capital.
Which was precisely why I could not decide.
I had been handed a free pass to the treasury of the Aethernia Empire, and I was going to spend it on mere treasure and a villa? It was a little like setting out to buy a compact, then looking at a sedan, climbing from there to a small SUV, and somehow driving off in a midsize family model. Or like going abroad and, because sleep felt like a waste, forcing down a bad breakfast in worse condition and dozing through sightseeing you did not even want. The point was simply that this chance was too good to waste.
Should I ask to be appointed the Empire's official Cooking Master instead? It would be an honor, and an official master would have his dignity, and there would probably be a pension besides.
No. That sounds exhausting.
I was already itching from not being able to work as I pleased. Slap some grand title on top of that and my body would not survive it.
From the day I opened the restaurant in Silbaerin up to the present, I had come a fair distance, true. What I wanted, though, had not changed. This trip to the capital had made that plain.
Chosen by Goddess Maria? I was no hero. If she meant to choose someone, she ought to have chosen Arthur, who could actually swing a sword, came from a respectable house with a decent reputation, and was the right age. Why go out of her way to drag me here by the scruff from another world and press a holy kitchen knife into my hand instead of a holy sword?
I could grumble all I liked. From the moment I was transferred into this world, right through gaining something as useful as a status window, all of it was proof that I was the human Maria had chosen. Ermia, who had glimpsed the realm of gods this time, was convinced of it as well, and there was the dream I had when I collapsed from mana exhaustion. Thinking back now, the voice I had heard in that dream had been Goddess Maria's.
But that was that, and my life was still my life, wasn't it?
Ermia guessed that while Evil God Nereus and his remnants ran wild across the continent, I, chosen by Maria, had stopped every last one of them. Circumstantially, the pieces did fit. The part of that theory I could not stomach was this.
Does it really have to be me? They seemed like a bunch of small fry.
I knew my cooking held a special power. Saying I had overcome those attacks by my strength alone, though, was a stretch. People who already had the makings had eaten my food, and that was why they could use the power more efficiently, more effectively. Now Nuardel and Silbaerin, even the entire student body of Arcadia Academy, were enjoying the results.
So then... couldn't I retire?
There were already that many capable people. No need to stretch my activities any further. That was the whole of it. I did not hate traveling, but in the end my own nest, and the life I actually wanted, mattered more.
After a long bout of thinking, I decided what I would ask of Leonik. Sorting it out had taken a great deal of time, but that same time had let me focus on what I truly wanted.
Just as I had settled my mind, the chief steward stepped into the kitchen.
"Chef Kang Jinwoo. You've worked hard."
"You as well, Chief Steward. It was a sudden request, and I'm grateful you granted it."
"Not at all. I merely did what ought to be done."
We traded a brief, WWE-style round of praise for each other's labor. Then the chief steward came to the point. I had been waiting for it.
"By the way, His Majesty bids me bring the chef."
"Hoo... bring it."
"Eh? Pardon? What did you just...?"
"Hot. I said it's hot. He's calling for me? Let's go. Quickly!"
A man who has already braced himself can swagger. I strode out of the kitchen with purpose, and the chief steward, who had not expected me to be quite so unreserved, hurried after me.
Along the way he drilled a few light points of etiquette into me. Then I arrived at the private chamber where Leonik, fresh from his meal, was waiting.
I had heard he was satisfied, but was the look on his face joy, or pleasure, or sorrow, or something else entirely? Leonik wore an expression I simply could not name. I, however, was perfectly at ease. The confidence of a student who has successfully finished his homework—something very like that self-satisfaction was rolling off me. Inscrutable expression or not, I was certain I would not so much as blink.
I opened my mouth without breaking stride—
"I beg your pardon?"
Ah. He had beaten me to the punch.
"Then I shall say it as many times as you like. Congratulations on becoming the Empire's first Cooking Master. The investiture will be announced again before long..."
"No, wait a moment. What are you saying, all of a sudden?"
"You are the one who set a meal and a service of this caliber before me, and now you try to back out? Are you mocking me?"
"What? How does it come to that?"
That uncertain look, it seemed, had been a face struggling to contain its excitement. The post of the Empire's Cooking Master, which Leonik had just forced on me. I had agonized all the way here over asking for something else entirely. How could he miss what I wanted so completely?
The absurdity of it stripped the mask off my speech, and Leonik did not seem to mind in the slightest. I spoke a little more freely.
"I'm not mocking Your Majesty. It's just truly sudden. Please explain."
"Kh, khm. Was I a bit much? In that case..."
At my serious tone, Leonik cleared his throat. Then he spoke as if he were laying down an immutable truth, untouched by the slightest doubt.
"The first appetizer you brought out, the venison gibier terrine. Within that single bite, a vast empire lay hidden."
"Yes?"
"The vivid red beet pickle set at the very top—that must have represented me. Not only that. Through the onion soup the people eat, you gave voice to their joys and sorrows, and the fact that the main was a preserved dish, duck leg confit, follows the same logic. And yet the pomegranate sauce atop that confit must have been me once again. Am I correct?"
"I don't know about joys and sorrows... the pomegranate sauce, I'll grant you."
"Yes! You chose duck leg confit for the dish itself, and the cooking was perfect, without a trace of anything unpleasant. When I ate the duck leg, I even felt a kind of fantasy. It would never happen, of course, but a festival in which I draw my blade, hunt like a beast, and receive everyone's welcome..."
I looked into Leonik's eyes, sunk in what one might kindly call melancholy. Kindly, because in truth he simply looked unhinged.
While preparing the course I had deliberately used a great deal of game and a great many red ingredients. The imperial house's symbol was red hair, and there was his lionlike appearance, the wildness it gave off, a ruler's power. I had tried to express something of that sort. An empire hidden inside the terrine, though, joys and sorrows, fantasies...
Purple is not the color of death, you know.
It felt like staring at an exam question in which the test writers had assigned meanings the creator had never intended. I let out a thin sigh and tried to answer. My food had tasted good, and those words were praise, but I had not wanted anything beyond what I had meant.
"Hoo. First, please calm down. I'll admit some of it, but the terrine and the fantasy weren't what I—"
"What? Then, Kang Jinwoo, are you saying that I, Emperor of this Empire, am a senile old man seeing hallucinations? That I am an old man slighted even by mages, who cannot get so much as a glance from his one precious daughter?!"
"When did I say anything like that?"
Against my will, I had just been treated to the family affairs of Leonik and Kariel. Act thoughtlessly rude to your parents when you are young, and you regret it for a long time afterward. What mattered now, in any case, was not Kariel's adolescence.
I half abandoned any hope of managing Leonik's reaction and started in on what I actually wanted to say.
"Just do as you please. I can't refuse the honor of Cooking Master anyway, can I? From the look of things, that's how this is going."
"Isn't it? Congratulations, Kang Jinwoo. Shall I call you Master now?"
"That's a burden, so please don't. By the way, the reward I'm allowed to request is still available, isn't it?"
"Of course! Name whatever you wish!"
Leonik laughed readily and granted it. Once the fame of Cooking Master spread, it might be a nuisance at first, but it would fade soon enough with time. Besides, the water was already spilled. Nothing to be done.
I told him what I wanted. A request that would serve my humble hope of living in a quiet restaurant of my own, cooking whatever I pleased.
"Could I have ingredients from every region of the Empire delivered to me while they're still fresh? Every month from now on, and if possible, a different selection of new ingredients each time."
"Hmm? It is not a difficult matter... are you truly content with that?"
"Ah. Then, while we're at it, a little spending money as well..."
Leonik asked it back, plainly puzzled. If he was offering more, there was no reason to refuse, so I asked for pocket money too. He let out a hearty laugh.
"Ho ho ho. Do not worry about money. A Master's honor is not so cheap a thing. After the official appointment, wherever you go in the Empire, that name alone will see you well received. I shall provide for you separately, of course. From now on, do not concern yourself with food, clothing, or shelter."
"Hah. So it wasn't just a title for show. Thank you."
"Naturally. And... this is not a reward, but I have one request. Will you hear it?"
"What is it?"
My restaurant stood in Silbaerin, the northernmost reach of the Empire once you set aside the Kalian Mountains. If I meant to go on cooking there in peace, I needed a regular supply of fresh, unfamiliar ingredients already in place. Silbaerin, to put it simply, was inland even among inland places, tucked beneath the mountains, while the Empire's south was a warm coast. When I wanted to cook fish, I could have it brought in through that supply line. I also meant to register a wider range of ingredients in my Mana Market.
Magic existed, and still logistics and travel remained at a medieval level. I had wandered a fair number of places because of that, and the ingredients had still left me wanting. With this network, I could broaden the Mana Market's catalog without going far at all. For a chef, it was a reward as fantastic as a dream.
He had accepted a request like that in a tone that suggested it was not even enough. Whatever the favor was, I could grant it so long as it was not outrageous. And the man asking was the Emperor of the Empire. Just now he looked a little stripped of his authority, but at the root he was a sovereign armed with a charisma like steel. When a man like that said something under the name of a request, it was difficult to go on calling it a request.
And just as my demand had puzzled Leonik, Leonik's request puzzled me.
"I will send word to the great cathedral in the south without delay. Once a reply arrives, could you make a trip there?"
"Pardon? Me? Well... it's not impossible, but why?"
"Because... I am worried."
Worried? Worried about what? The Empire's strongest mage had leveled up into humanity's strongest mage, and the supposed remnants of the evil god kept swinging and missing every time. I put that thought into a question.
"What are you worried about? There isn't any problem, is there?"
"You. I mean you, Kang Jinwoo! Did you not take a rather significant blow in this latest attack?!"
"Yes... but I'm fine."
"No. I will not allow it. After daring to make cooking like that, do not even think of fleeing into death. Chef."
Leonik's black eyes flashed like a beast's.
"Go to the great cathedral and receive treatment from the Saintess. Do not dare think of falling ill."
"Ah... yes."
I could not tell whether I ought to be pleased, overwhelmed, or something else entirely. The only thing I knew for certain was the old saying about fathers and daughters.
The look in Leonik's eyes as he charged me, again and again, to take care shone with the same ominous light Kariel's had, back when I told her I was closing the stall.