Chapter 93

“Isn’t this Baron of Lian?”

The head chef, who was directing the kitchen, greeted Reina with a bright smile.

“Hello.”

“Oh my, Baron, please don’t speak so formally to me.”

“No, it’s just that I’m still more comfortable like this.”

The head chef here was much younger than the one at the ducal castle.

Even so, befitting the stature of the House of Winternight, he wasn’t frivolous and carried himself with proper manners.

“And could you try this for me?”

He was also quite friendly. According to the butler, the most popular person in this mansion was the head chef.

He handed Reina something with cream cheese frosting sandwiched between two crispy cookies.

“Th-thank you.”

Sweets first thing in the morning.

Damian would’ve frowned, but Reina hid her surprise and accepted it gladly.

The tang and sweetness of the cream cheese blended pleasantly.

Each bite of the cookie crumbled crisply, its nutty aroma filling her nose, while the filling melted softly in her mouth.

‘It’s lighter than I expected.’

“Lighter than you expected, right?”

The chef grinned as if he’d read her mind.

“I heard you’re going on a picnic today, so I prepared these specially. Food you eat while running around outside shouldn’t be too heavy. Do you think the young ladies will like it?”

“The young ladies?”

“Yes, Lady Estelle and Lady Bonita.”

Reina startled slightly at hearing her daughter referred to as a lady.

The chef looked puzzled instead.

“Is something wrong?”

“O-oh, no. It’s nothing.”

Reina felt awkward and just rolled her eyes.

‘Boni’s called a lady now too.’

It didn’t quite feel real.

“More importantly, is there anything I can help with?”

“Ah, no. It’s fine.”

Reina looked around for an apron she could borrow.

“It’s our first picnic out, isn’t it? I’d like to help with at least a few things.”

“No, but…”

“I won’t ask for anything difficult or complicated. Could I at least peel some potatoes?”

Reina was confident she wouldn’t be a burden.

If nothing else, cooking and chores were things she’d done plenty of.

After a long moment of hesitation, the chef finally assigned her the task of buttering bread for sandwiches.

Holding a butter knife in one hand and a butter case in the other, he told her,

“Thin and even. Thin and even.”

He explained that this was an extremely important task that played a crucial role in the sandwich’s flavor.

Reina nodded calmly.

‘Even… evenly and thinly.’

She scooped up some butter with the knife and spread it over the bread.

With each slice, she held her breath to make it as even as possible.

She carefully coated the third slice without letting the butter go past the edges when she heard slow, relaxed footsteps behind her.

“…Seems I wasn’t the first guest here.”

At the familiar voice and footsteps, Reina turned around.

“What brings Your Grace all the way here?”

“It’s my mansion. I can go anywhere.”

Damian replied casually, then glanced at what she was holding.

“Planning to start a food business now?”

“N-no. That’s not the reason…”

“It’s a joke. Seems I came for the same reason as you.”

Damian let out a small laugh when she stammered.

Everyone in the kitchen froze and stared at him.

In an instant, his faint smile disappeared, replaced by a blank expression. With his hands in his pockets, he said,

“Is there anything I can help with?”

The chef’s eyes shook violently at the idea of Damian helping.

“H-how could I let the master of the house…”

“Can’t I?”

Damian merely asked whether he couldn’t, but the chef’s eyes trembled even harder.

He seemed to interpret it as, If you keep saying no, I’ll cut you. Not fire you, but actually cut you.

Sitting there and reading the fear on his face, Reina tried to explain, but the chef panicked first.

“N-not at all! You are the master of this mansion! The master of Winternight! If it’s not possible, then we must make it possible!”

“In that case… what should I do?”

Reina could clearly see what the chef was thinking.

He was determined not to hand Damian anything sharp, not even a butter knife or spoon.

‘His Grace does look a bit easy to misunderstand.’

Reina, who was no longer afraid of Damian, quietly nodded and said nothing.

“C-could you handle this, Your Grace!”

The chef presented a basket full of unpeeled beans.

Damian accepted it with a slightly skeptical look.

“What exactly am I supposed to do with this?”

The chef held up an empty basket.

“Peel them and put the beans into this empty basket.”

“I see.”

The chef guided Damian to a seat directly across from Reina.

After seating him, he demonstrated peeling a bean.

“Like this. Simple, right?”

“Simple.”

“Please take care of it.”

After explaining, the chef hurried off to assist elsewhere, though he kept glancing back anxiously at Damian.

Reina also clutched her butter knife and glanced at Damian across from her.

…He was gripping a bean tightly and glaring at it.

Reina stopped watching Damian, or rather, stopped watching him engage in a silent battle with the bean.

‘I should focus on my own work.’

She had to battle butter and bread, not bean pods.

She scooped just the right amount of butter and spread it onto a fresh slice of bread.

Crunch.

“…?”

Reina froze mid motion.

Slowly lifting her head, she saw…

“Y-Your Grace?”

Damian’s slightly troubled expression and a crushed bean.

‘How on earth does that even happen.’

“How on earth does that even happen?”

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

“…It seems peeling a bean is more difficult than I thought.”

“Ha.”

“…Crushing them is easy, though.”

At his seemingly casual remark, which was probably meant as a joke, someone nearby inhaled sharply.

Reina tried not to look at whoever it was and smiled.

“You’re wearing gloves, Your Grace. Gloves dull your sense of touch.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. It’s better not to wear gloves when doing delicate tasks.”

Damian looked seriously at the crushed bean.

Anyone watching might think he was handling a matter of imperial importance.

Reina rolled her eyes and picked up a bean.

“You grab the tip here and pull it down like this. Don’t squeeze the whole pod too hard.”

Damian tried to follow her example, but another one went pop and got crushed.

“…”

“Your Grace is quite strong.”

Reina smiled gently.

“Hmm…”

He could’ve done it easily if he removed his gloves, but he didn’t seem inclined to.

Reina didn’t ask about the gloves.

“I’ll try again.”

“Yes.”

‘It’ll be fine.’

It wasn’t as if the Duke crushing a few beans would cause trouble in this mansion.

The chef must’ve considered that too, and they probably didn’t need many beans anyway.

Reina focused on buttering the bread again.

Crunch, pop.

The sound of beans being mercilessly crushed echoed from Damian’s hands.

“…”

“…”

After about six crushed beans, the unfortunate squishing sounds finally stopped.

Damian seemed to get the hang of it and began separating beans from pods properly.

“Hm.”

His voice was calm, but he couldn’t hide a hint of satisfaction.

“Pfft.”

Reina covered her mouth with the back of her hand to suppress her laughter.

“…Is it funny?”

“N-no. I’m sorry.”

She forced the corners of her mouth down with all her strength.

“Cough, Your Grace is quite good at peeling beans.”

“…And you’re quite good at buttering bread.”

“Pfft.”

“…”

“…”

This time, it wasn’t Reina holding back laughter. Nor was it Damian.

A few of the kitchen staff were visibly trembling as they tried not to laugh.

Reina and Damian stared at them for a moment, then decided to return to their tasks.

“…Let’s finish before the children wake up.”

“…Good idea.”

Swish.

Pop.

The sounds of spreading butter and peeling beans filled the silence between them.

“What will you do once the buttering’s done?”

“Probably put in the sandwich fillings.”

“…I’ll help.”

“…Thank you.”