The Customer Isn't Far Away
The very first thought I had upon waking in the morning was, “What shall I prepare for breakfast today?”
It was a worry as mature as that of a ten-year household manager, yet one that a twelve-year-old girl should never have to face.
But in modern Korea, a bored remark like “Ugh, so boring” would simply mark the start of a mundane concern. In this medieval world, and at the very peak of the mountain, it felt completely fresh and unusual. Suddenly it had become a matter of life and death.
Even after living twelve years in this world, my taste buds remained stubbornly aligned with modern Korea, down to the smallest details.
After devouring countless books on alchemy and food culture, I had finally succeeded in seasoning dishes, but I still could not manage the heat.
That fact drove me to madness. Every time I ate, I would mutter under my breath, “Ramen, tteokbokki, kimchi…”
Hah. They said I would only truly understand the deep flavor of my homeland once I had gone out and lived there. And here I was, the perfect match for that exact saying.
The problem was that a student abroad could simply pay for the taste of home, but I could not. It was impossible forever.
Each morning and evening, with every meal, I had to confront that painful reality.
But this was merely my spoiled, luxurious worry. To outsiders, I was almost indistinguishable from a master chef.
To the point that even the king had once sighed in admiration. (Of course, the person actually cooking at the time was not me. I had only supplied a few handmade spices and recipes. Precisely, my mother had provided them. A count’s young daughter making such food was a mere feat. But a countess’s true achievement was setting the royal table with such elegance to delight the king and his guests. And my mother’s success would soon become my halo. It was not the time to run wild without distinguishing heaven from earth, simply because I wished to spread my name.)
Today’s meal was omelet.
It would have been wonderful to include cheese inside, but the cheese had simply fallen off.
I supposed I would have to descend the mountain again and visit the reptile tamer once more.
I would coax and flatter him until I could establish a regular delivery system, even if not early-morning.
The food ingredients here were ridiculously limited.
For the omelet, I could only use the mushrooms picked nearby, the ham taken from Jean Corche’s backpack, and the onions grown by Pythia.
Milk would have been ideal, but even that was unavailable. The eggs I had brought when I arrived were now nearly rotten, so I had no choice but to turn them into omelet.
“At least the eggs have lasted this long because this place has snow for a full year every season. Otherwise, there was no way.”
One of the few advantages of the Grand Hall was that the temperature was low enough to serve as a natural refrigerator.
It was truly fortunate. If we had been in the middle of a desert, it would have been far worse. And it was still summer.
“Is the taste to your liking?”
I asked with a kind tone toward Damien Hamilcar.
It was a relationship I needed to build properly… or rather, the habit of serving food had slipped out briefly.
If I had not noticed in time, I almost would have added “Guest” at the end.
Wow. Even after twelve years living in this village, I still could not shake that habit.
Damien did not answer my question. He glanced at me for a moment, met my eyes, then immediately lowered his gaze.
But I could tell he had been surprised by the taste of the omelet. He had scraped the plate clean.
I stood up to clear away the dishes and noticed Pythia, who was about to lie down after tapping her slightly swollen belly. I quickly grabbed her.
“Temple Master, what would you do if you have eaten breakfast?”
Under my strict gaze, Pythia looked at me blankly and sighed.
“Morning cleaning…”
“Temple Master, tidy your bed, clean the room, and sweep all the dust inside the temple. Understood?”
Pythia gazed at me with teary eyes.
“But I’m so happy eating something delicious right now. Can’t I just lie down? Then I would be completely happy. Arian, let’s lie down too, right?”
“Lie down after eating and you will become a pig.”
At my words, Pythia bit her lower lip.
“Don’t lie to me.”
A Korean proverb would not work on her. But this village had similar sayings.
“A lazy hen is eaten quickly.”
When I quoted the village proverb, Pythia shouted with a face ready to explode.
“I’m going to sleep again tonight anyway. Why tidy the bed! And the temple is already spotless. Honestly, it’s cleaner than crazy!”
“With daily cleaning, we can at least maintain the cleanliness suitable for living. Hurry up and clean.”
“That’s impossible…”
“Temple Master.”
I crossed my arms and looked at Pythia.
Honestly, given her status, such behavior was unacceptable. But her overly cheerful personality—good or bad—made me decide to bully her a little.
“I have things to do today. And the tasks I perform are slightly more numerous than those of the Temple Master. If I also complete everything the Temple Master must do today, I will be able to prepare dinner very simply.”
Before I arrived, Pythia had barely survived on black bread.
Now that I had provided all kinds of food, she must have been overjoyed.
When I said that failing to clean would lower the quality of the food, Pythia quickly shook her head.
“I’ll clean it. I was going to clean.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Smiling brightly, I gave my thanks and turned to clear the table.
Somehow the dishes had already disappeared.
Was it a trick? I opened the window and leaned out to check. There was Damien, carrying the dishes in a wooden bucket toward the water source.
I had no manners to say “Thank you for making delicious food,” but he still had the conscience to clean up after eating.
“He might not be bad after all…”
No. He was the Assassin S. Bad didn’t even begin to describe it.
There were many sociopaths who pretended to have high social skills. In this situation, I had no choice but to build some rapport, but I must not let my guard down.
I clenched my fists at myself once more and closed the window.
Dishes were taken care of, but the problem was the dwindling supplies.
In truth, the real crisis was my own. I was unable to compromise on food.
At nine years old, if I wanted ramen, I had stubbornly turned on the gas stove in an empty house.
The ramen I made then had too much water, so it was bland, and because I didn’t know how long to boil it, I overcooked the noodles until they swelled.
Yet it had tasted good. Even without my mother or a helper, the sense of achievement in making the food I wanted had made it delicious.
But that was a one-time thing. Now I was too skilled at cooking to derive that satisfaction from eating bland food.
To enjoy flavorful dishes, I needed ingredients to support me.
What to do? Of course, there was the option to descend the mountain and meet the reptile tamer again.
The problem was that I had been half-carried up here when I arrived. It was a quite steep mountain.
Honestly, since I would do the dishes myself, I had thought of telling him to go down and fetch ingredients, but several issues arose.
First, the reptile tamer would almost certainly know Damien Hamilcar’s face. He was the successor valued above gold and silver in the Hamilcar territory.
Before I could become close with the Hamilcar knights, I could never have treated the successor as food.
Second, I had no idea how the successor would obtain ingredients.
Everything in this land was, in principle, the Hamilcar family’s property. In other words, I could simply take it.
Then whom would they resent? Not the helpless, pitiful Temple Master’s underling.
Moreover, what? Assassin S? A crazy person like that—how would he know what means to use? If they killed everyone and took everything, what then?
I was not even in the territory where I lived. I could not earn such resentment.
I had not yet prepared any means to protect my own safety!
And finally—the most important point of all.
He had paid far too many gold coins…
Thinking about the gold coins he had given, even if I washed his feet I would have to wash them.
Even if I were the count’s only daughter, the farther my father was, the more distant his power became.
No matter how I viewed it through power, status, or donation, he was not a person I could reasonably ask to run errands.
Honestly, since he was doing the dishes himself, I could not simply order him around.
And I could not starve him either. He had paid too much money.
My soul belonged to a capitalist citizen.
“I’ve finished the morning cleaning, so I’m going to sleep now, okay?”
Pythia peeked her face out from her room and called to me.
She was the same age as my mother, but her cuteness was quite different from that of Lady Louise.
I was about to answer, “Yes,” when I suddenly stared at her intently.
Pythia’s eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Why… again…” she murmured, on the verge of tears.
“Temple Master.”
“Just call me Pythia.”
“Before I came here, you ate black bread, didn’t you?”
At my question, Pythia rolled her eyes.
“Ah, why! Because something is bothering you, you do this again!”
“No, no. That’s not it. Where did that black bread come from?”
Pythia was adorable and kind, but even if her mouth were torn open, she would have difficulty speaking of her talent.
Eating black bread for a princess would have been a hardship that never truly faded, no matter how much time passed.
But in this world, many people died without even being able to eat black bread.
Where had Pythia obtained black bread?
At that, Pythia’s face lit up. “Did you want to know that?” she asked with a innocent smile and pointed out the window.
“From the other temples.”
Only then did I look out the window myself. The other temples were not visible from here, but it did not matter. They undoubtedly existed.
Unlike me, the temples with strong connections to the villagers.
Ah, why had I not thought of that? I was too kind and only considered distant customers.
I was not alone in the Grand Hall. Not only Pythia and Damien.
In truth, there were many temples and many people here.
They were not idle just because we were. Countless pilgrims had come through the bizarre path, and money and ingredients clearly circulated.
I immediately stood up.
“Temple Master, I’m going out.”
One of Pythia’s virtues was that,
“Come back safely!”
she trusted me terribly.
Even if I went to the neighboring temple to squeeze money out of it, she would see me off with a radiant face as though I were watering flowers.