Let's Play at the Katram Estate (4)
I took the trembling Irina and the terrifying Aylin with me to the Katram Estate.
From the main gate onward, maids and butlers stood in a long, unbroken line. The moment we stopped before them, a thunderous greeting erupted.
“We sincerely welcome Princess Aylin’s visit!”
It was a perfectly synchronized choral greeting without a single misstep. Hughes, who stood at the very front (the man covering for me), lifted his head and spotted Irina.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Young Lady Barian. Have you come to visit together?”
“Y-yes. That’s right.”
“Welcome. The Katram Estate welcomes the visit of such noble personages.”
“Th-thank you.”
“Then, the three of you, this way. A banquet has been prepared.”
We followed Hughes’s guidance into the mansion’s dining hall.
A long table was laden with every kind of sumptuous delicacy. Aylin took the seat of honor; Irina and I sat on either side of her. Hughes smiled as he spoke.
“My, my. Had I known Young Lady Barian would be joining us, I would have prepared even more.”
“It already looks like plenty, though?”
Irina was right. The food arrayed on the table was far more than Aylin and I could ever finish alone. Hughes gave a hearty laugh.
“When entertaining distinguished guests, the more abundant the portions, the better. Then I shall take my leave. Please enjoy a cozy meal among the three of you friends.”
Hughes and every maid and butler withdrew. Of course, they would reappear the instant we needed anything.
“Well, shall we eat?”
“Yes. I’ll dig in.”
“……I’ll enjoy the meal.”
We began. The meal proceeded in silence. Irina kept stealing glances at Aylin, while Aylin seemed to take mild amusement in those nervous reactions.
Me? I was not so tactless as to cheerfully break the tension in an atmosphere like this.
Yet Aylin must have decided silence was unpleasant, for she surprisingly addressed Irina.
“Irina.”
“Y-yes?”
“How does the food of House Katram taste?”
“I-it’s delicious.”
“Right? I think so too. Especially the roast turkey—larger than chicken, yet often tough and strongly gamey—they’ve solved both problems to perfection. And the chicken skewers; I’ve had them before, but they’re excellent again today. How would they compare to House Barian’s?”
“That’s……”
Irina hesitated. Of course she did. Declaring either side superior carried political weight.
To say the food here was better would imply House Barian’s table was of lower standing; to say the marquisate’s was better would be an insult to House Katram spoken inside the estate itself.
Normally no one asked such a question—but Aylin was a willful princess.
Irina hemmed and hawed, unable to answer. The Irina of before today would have spoken without hesitation. The only Katram present was me, a mere collateral, and she had never been shy about snapping even at Aylin.
But the martial power Aylin had displayed at the Academy seemed to have cowed her. Yes—she had probably never met anyone so overwhelmingly superior in her life.
Even my own legs still felt weak; how much worse must it be for Irina, who had nearly become the target of that power?
“What’s wrong? Does that mean you can’t decide which is superior?”
“Th-that’s not it.”
“Then tell me. Which one do you think is better?”
“That’s, that’s……”
This was going too far. I opened the mouth I had kept shut.
“Marquis Barian is the Minister of Finance, so I understand he is familiar with many rare ingredients. Isn’t that right, Irina?”
“Huh? Ah, yes. That’s right. He also oversees trade affairs.”
“House Katram has little interest in overly rare ingredients. We pursue more refined flavors with what we have. Thinking of it that way, the cuisines of the two houses each have their own merits.”
“Th-that’s right! Since the fields differ, comparison is difficult. Does that answer your question, Your Highness?”
“Hmm.”
Aylin was not looking at Irina. She was staring at me with open dissatisfaction.
Her meaning was crystal clear: Why are you stopping me from bullying Irina? But I was the sort who believed friends sometimes needed someone to put on the brakes.
“Frey.”
“What do you think, Your Highness? Imperial cuisine is of course far superior to this, isn’t it?”
“No.”
Aylin bit into a chicken skewer with a sharp chomp as she answered.
“There’s no place tastier than here.”
“Pardon?”
“So don’t speak of ‘merits and demerits.’ No place cooks better than House Katram.”
“Even so, wouldn’t it fall short of the imperial palace?”
“Then shall we test it?”
“Test?”
“Frey, if I permit it, you could extract the information from my mind and summon imperial cuisine with illusion magic, couldn’t you?”
“Uh, well… I’d have to try to know.”
“Have Irina taste it. Which is better—imperial food or House Katram’s.”
“Hic!”
Irina hiccuped loudly. Of course she did. Forcing someone already strained by comparing House Katram and House Barian to now compare imperial cuisine!
Moreover, Irina seemed to have roughly foreseen her own future. There were two paths.
First: declare the imperial food delicious.
“I said House Katram’s food is the best, and you’re ignoring that? Are you saying the princess’s words are false?”
—and Aylin would seize the opening.
Second: declare Katram’s food delicious.
“Hmm. So you think the imperial palace has no eye for chefs? Moreover, that it is less tasty than a ducal house. You seem to look down on imperial authority. I’ll convey your opinion well.”
—and Aylin would sneer coldly. In my estimation, either way, Irina’s current state would not end with mere fainting.
The problem was that I could no longer intervene. This entire situation had arisen because Irina had openly provoked Aylin earlier.
“Haaa.”
“Frey, hurry.”
“Here.”
With Aylin’s permission I wove imperial dishes from illusion magic. Aylin tasted the phantom food and nodded.
“It’s exact. Now, Irina. Eat.”
“I-I’m full.”
“It’s illusion magic, so there’s no satiety. I said eat it.”
“Ugh… ah.”
Irina’s hands shook as she speared the imperial-style steak with her fork and brought it to her mouth.
She chewed. Aylin smiled faintly.
“So—which do you think is tastier?”
Irina pondered deeply. She pondered and pondered, then—
“Gulp.”
“Ah.”
“Haa……”
She foamed at the mouth and fainted. Aylin looked somehow a little disappointed.
“I thought she had more backbone than this.”
“Aylin, you don’t do this to other people too, do you?”
“Did I do it to you?”
“I’m sorry. I won’t say another word.”
Really terrifying as hell. And for the fainted Irina I felt not even a speck of sympathy. In the end I was the one who had to handle everything!
“Leave Irina somewhere suitable. What shall we do?”
“Hmm. Aylin, what did you come here for? I’ve prepared quite a few things already.”
“Prepared? I’m curious what Frey has prepared.”
“Aylin.”
I looked at her seriously.
Having watched Aylin for nearly a month, I had learned a great deal. Among those lessons was that she loved contests and wagers.
What I had prepared were countless “games”—games of the common folk that a princess like Aylin would never have encountered! Of course I would never call them commoners’ games. I was still disguised as a collateral of Katram, after all.
The competitive Aylin would lose one or two rounds and then become completely hooked. And then she would grow tired…
Suddenly the image of Aylin crushing adamantium with her bare hands flashed through my mind. Would she actually tire?
No. Physical fatigue and mental fatigue were different things.
“Can you handle what I’ve prepared?”
“Hmm. Whatever it is, it seems you’ve prepared something quite entertaining.”
“In thirty minutes, Aylin will feel humiliation, despair, and inferiority toward me—someone she cannot reach.”
“Have you forgotten that you’ve lost almost every bet so far? Let’s see, then.”
Aylin accepted readily, just as expected. Then I would invite her.
To games the imperial family had never once encountered in their lives!
“One hundred forty-five years. Frey, how long do I have to keep doing this? Ah—the one who reaches two hundred years wins, right?”
“……?”
Aylin called out in perfect calm.
“Rock, paper. Perfect. Five more years. One hundred fifty. Ten more times and I win?”
She said this and began gonggi again from the first stage. I could not believe it.
This was clearly the first time I had taught her the game. After winning rock-paper-scissors she had not missed a single catch, climbing all the way to one hundred fifty years?
“No—Aylin, how? Have you done this before?”
“Did I ever say I hadn’t?”
“Where on earth?”
“Hmm. It’s a secret.”
She said this and claimed another five years. Reaching two hundred took less than five minutes.
“I won. Oh my, Frey. It seems the one who should feel inferiority is you.”
“Next! Next game!”
Fine. She might have played gonggi somewhere. But the next game was so primitive she couldn’t possibly have tried it!
Bang!
“Frey, this has gone all the way up to my head?”
“……”
In stone stacking, Aylin raised the flat stones from her instep to above her head in an instant.
“Frey, I’ve done three hundred of these. Do I need more?”
Aylin kicked the shuttlecock hundreds of times without taking a single step from her spot.
“Frey, what are you going to do now?”
With a mysterious clever move, Aylin rendered me unable to place a single stone in gomoku.
“This one, you see, has a knack.”
Slap!
Every time Aylin slammed down her ttakji, mine flipped over like dry leaves caught in a gale.
About an hour later, I had been utterly defeated by Aylin in every single game I had prepared.
Why? Why? Aylin was royalty. I—I had been steeped in these games for years, so why?
As I writhed over the incomprehensible losses, Aylin smiled and held out her hand.
“Here.”
“Wh-what is it?”
“I won them all, didn’t I?”
Aylin’s blue eyes felt as deep as the ocean floor.
“You should give a reward, right?”