“Haaa...”
How many sighs have you let out now? I exhaled a deep breath as if I couldn't stop – even though I knew I had to.
“Ah, miss, would you like a piece of cake?”
“Mmm, thank you, Bonita...”
After completely exhausting her energy, she nodded; Soon after, a bowl of cookies was placed, neatly stacked, on the table.
I recognized the smell immediately. Admittedly, these were, once again, absolutely delicious chocolate chip cookies.
But somehow...it seems to have become more to my taste.
At that moment, I remembered telling Bonita - almost in passing - that I preferred large chocolate chip cookies. But haven't chocolate chips been added to cakes recently? Or am I delusional?
“Delicious.”
“I also brought some vanilla ice cream. Please try it.”
The ice cream, topped with vanilla beans, released cool puffs of steam when I took a spoonful of it, releasing a rich, robust flavor that filled my mouth.
Your skills seem to improve significantly.
I do not remember that I had ever tasted such exquisite sweets when I first arrived at the residence of the Grand Duke. When did this change happen? There seems to have been a noticeable shift since I raved about this dessert in the capital on my last visit.
Maybe not only the Grand Duke, but everyone here is addicted to hard work? However, is it really necessary to put in all that effort for someone like me – just a customer?
It must be a coincidence, right?
Before I knew it, the ice cream was gone. With some remorse, I put down my spoon and addressed Bonita:
“Be sure to thank the chef on my behalf.”
“Oh, this wasn't made by the chef.”
“Huh? So?”
Remember when you last visited the palace and raved about the ice cream?
“Mm...yes, that's right.”
What? I felt something strange. Indeed, what Bonita said next left me completely speechless.
“That's why Mr. Ream was assigned – to secure a master pastry chef from the pastry vendor I enjoyed!”
"…truly?"
“Yes! By the way, His Highness the Grand Duke himself asked me to bring this to you.”
After he finished speaking, Bonita handed me something.
“This is…”
It was a neatly folded note – so beautiful that it looked elegant even upside down.
I opened it with my trembling hands. Inside was a short note:
“Jan Bakery” has a new hire for the main chef, Mr. Prioul
– Additional labor cost: 3.2 million trillion per month
※ The amount can be withdrawn within one week
I couldn't help but let out a hollow laugh when I read it.
“Ha-ha-ha…”
What isn't a payroll system these days?
I felt as if tears were gathering in my eyes. I quickly rolled up the paper and put it in my pocket.
Even if she claimed that the decision was revocable, having already tasted that dessert once, I was not inclined to agree so easily.
I'll just pay for it. After that, I will have them make desserts every day.
They say money can't buy happiness, but in this case, that may not be entirely true. But…
“Wait a minute.”
Come to think of it, the pastry chef wouldn't make desserts just for me, right? He'd probably bring it to the Grand Duke's meals too, right?
Unfair deal.
Finally, a wave of discontent began to rise within me.
“Ah, miss?”
“I must go to the Grand Duke immediately.”
At my firm announcement, Bonita's mouth dropped open in astonishment.
“Well, then you should send a message first…!”
I knew it was proper etiquette to inform others before visiting.
But given everything – especially since the Grand Duke has already made several unscheduled visits – it is time to show, in no uncertain terms, that I am extremely angry.
“No, I'll go alone.”
I stuffed the rest of the biscuits into my mouth and headed towards the Grand Duke's office.
Knock, knock, knock!
…But instead of barging in, I ended up accidentally knocking over.
“Ahem, ahem.”
“Come in.”
Soon the Grand Duke's voice rang out.
I opened the door, and my face was frowning with an expression that revealed nothing of my inner turmoil.
What was really disturbing was that despite this surprise visit, the Grand Duke sat impeccably – unharmed and completely calm – as he greeted me.
Perhaps it was the sound sleep afforded by the blackout curtains, or perhaps the way he resolved comic book distribution problems with Ambrose's upper management. Whatever the reason, he radiated joy and comfort, and his appearance regained its previous prestige.
“So, what's the problem?”
Before I knew it, while I was mesmerized by the Grand Duke's features, a puzzled voice appeared.
I expected him to reprimand me for showing up unannounced, but his tone suggested that he had been expecting it all along.
I crossed my arms and shouted in a harsh tone: “This is too much!”
“What do you mean by ‘too much’?”
"this."
I took the crumpled note out of my pocket as if to prove that I had been waiting, and the Grand Duke shrugged indifferently.
“Didn't I ask you before?”
“Ask me what…?”
“Whether you like the candy Mr. Ream brought or not.”
“This is…”
That was true. I couldn't deny what happened.
I moved my aching neck and nodded.
“He even asked if you would like to have him every day at the Grand Duke’s residence.”
That was true too.
But seriously, who in their right mind would accept that as a job offer?
And that I should be expected to bear the full cost? I never imagined it.
“But still, this is very expensive.”
3.2 million trillion per month.
Even for a professional pastry chef, this monthly wage was not an insignificant amount when calculated annually.
In response, the Grand Duke loosely folded his arms.
“Originally, the recruitment cost is 35 million trillion, and the amount you bear is only a tenth of that.”
When I heard his words – as if he had already given me a great opponent – I was speechless.
Oh, that's how things are then?
So the deal wasn't as bad as I feared?
Of course, I wondered if it was right that I - a mere customer (and resident) - should pay the bill for the confectioner hired by the Grand Duke. But since my portion of dessert was large, I couldn't object further.
“If that doesn’t really suit you, I will arrange that the princess will henceforth receive sweets made by someone else instead of that baker.”
"truly?"
“Since it is too late to dismiss him now, I intend to issue an order denying the princess access to his sweets.”
I almost couldn't believe my ears.
truly?
Could he really be that cruel?
I wanted to ask, but the Grand Duke's exasperatingly calm expression and willingness to issue orders if I pressed him made me hold back.
Maybe if I shook with anger, that might satisfy him - does such a rule even exist?
Or is the Grand Duke under a strange curse that makes him enjoy spoiling other people's moods?
...At this thought, she sighed softly.
“Ah, well. Besides, I have a lot of other worries right now.”
“Fears?”
As soon as the word “concerns” was mentioned, a question was immediately asked.
"Hello."
“Tell us.”
“It's just personal.”
“It is much more despicable to pretend not to know when you already know, than to speak frankly.”
“No, it's not that despicable...!”
Besides, you're the despicable one here.
But the moment our eyes met, I sensed the Grand Duke's immense determination, and I knew that if I didn't say something, I would never be able to return to my room.
Ah, I had no other choice.
She pulled out a small chair from near the Grand Duke's desk, pulled it inside, and sat down.
“Hmm, so...”
My inner turmoil began with the relationship between the Marchioness Ambrose and Baron Bavron, but discussing the original details with the Duke was impossible – so I had to offer a sufficient degree of anonymity and a little paraphrasing.
“There is a clear situation here. When direct intervention is embarrassing, what is the best course of action?”
“Explain in more detail.”
“Well, A and B could have become close, but because of a misunderstanding, they grew apart. I feel like if I help a little, things might get better...”
Blood is thicker than water.
More than anything else, I know how much the Marchioness Ambrose cares for Baron Bavron.
“Anyway, I'm worried that if I intervene rashly, not only will they both suffer, but the whole situation might collapse.”
The Grand Duke, who had been listening intently, broke the silence with a question:
“What do you think is the best way to soothe the princess’s heart?”
“Me? I...”
I tilted my head and lost myself in thought.
Of course, I would prefer that neither Baron Bavron nor his wife suffer financial difficulties, so that the Marchioness Ambrose does not drag with her into the abyss...
“I want to help bring them together again.”
"Then do it. After all, the princess's comfort should be the priority."
"Yes…?"
“If you don't take care of your heart, who will?”
I stared at the Grand Duke with wide eyes, amazed at the unexpected depth of his insight.
But suddenly, one of the Grand Duke's eyebrows rose sharply.
“Wait a minute. Is there a connection between A, B, and the princess?”
They're not completely separate, are they? They are both people you know.
I nodded my head in agreement.
“In a way, yes.”
“A and B are a man and a woman, right?”
Since they are of different genders, that is true enough.
“Yes, exactly.”
“…You seem to meet more people these days.”
“Mm, indeed – I have met people of all ages and genders.”
“People of all ages and genders, huh.”
For some reason, the emphasis on the word “man” seemed strangely strong, but I dismissed it as a fantasy and simply answered.
"Yes, this is correct."
But at that moment, the Grand Duke's face frowned as if he was upset.
What - what is it now?
Suddenly, his behavior changed, and I felt as if my heart had shrunk to the size of a pea.
But the Grand Duke merely hummed, and did not utter another word. As I watched him, I stifled a sigh to myself.
Well, it still is...
I have to take care of my heart first.
Receiving such honest advice unexpectedly wasn't a bad thing at all.