“Can I make it?”
“What?”
“As long as it doesn’t get in the way.”
Madame Cronach blinked and asked back.
“You want to make a blueberry pie?”
“Yes.”
“Can you cook?”
“I’m better than Claudel.”
When he answered that, Madame Cronach smiled brightly.
“Ah. I see. Great! Let’s go.”
Everyone exchanged ambiguous glances and kept their mouths shut as Madame Cronach headed toward the castle kitchen, casually patting the back of a man as big as a mountain and as solid as a castle wall.
The chef quickly bowed his head when he saw the lord who suddenly barged in.
“Is there anything you want to order me to do?”
“I’m going to make a pie, so take out the ingredients.”
“Yes?”
“Madame Cronach will make it herself.”
“Ah. Yes. Your Highness.”
The bewildered chef quickly cleared away some of the cluttered counter, placed a rolling pin and spatula in a large bowl, and brought over a sack and jar of flour, butter, and eggs.
“Flour.”
Madame Cronach, who had been staring blankly at it, looked at Kaian with a face of realization and called out to the chef.
“Do you have any bran?”
“Yes?”
The chef blinked and answered.
“Why are you looking for bran? I haven’t sent the newly ground bran to the chicken coop yet.”
“Good. Can I have some?”
Madame Cronach followed the chef and returned with about a cup of bran. She mixed it with finely ground flour, poured it into a bowl, and began to make pies with butter.
“Do you eat bran?”
“Yes. It’s so nutritious.”
Madame Cronach worked her hands diligently and handed Kaian a spatula.
“Well, I guess it’s not something that people would put in their mouths in Rowen.”
Bran was the coarse inner husk that came out when grinding wheat flour.
The very tough outer husk was peeled off, and the finely ground flour was obtained from the slightly softer inner husk, leaving behind white flour and chewable inner husk.
In Rowen, where food was abundant, there was a saying that there were no beggars, so there was no need to worry about starvation. But even in Valmonde, which was much further north, the ingredients that could be grown and eaten from the ground were much more expensive than in the south.
They had to fill their stomachs with what they could get. The rest had no choice but to buy what they could from the south with the money they earned from working in the mountains or mines.
“As long as it doesn’t get in the way.”
Madame Cronach blinked and asked back.
“You want to make a blueberry pie?”
“Yes.”
“Can you cook?”
“I’m better than Claudel.”
When he answered that, Madame Cronach smiled brightly.
“Ah. I see. Great! Let’s go.”
Everyone exchanged ambiguous glances and kept their mouths shut as Madame Cronach headed toward the castle kitchen, casually patting the back of a man as big as a mountain and as solid as a castle wall.
The chef quickly bowed his head when he saw the lord who suddenly barged in.
“Is there anything you want to order me to do?”
“I’m going to make a pie, so take out the ingredients.”
“Yes?”
“Madame Cronach will make it herself.”
“Ah. Yes. Your Highness.”
The bewildered chef quickly cleared away some of the cluttered counter, placed a rolling pin and spatula in a large bowl, and brought over a sack and jar of flour, butter, and eggs.
“Flour.”
Madame Cronach, who had been staring blankly at it, looked at Kaian with a face of realization and called out to the chef.
“Do you have any bran?”
“Yes?”
The chef blinked and answered.
“Why are you looking for bran? I haven’t sent the newly ground bran to the chicken coop yet.”
“Good. Can I have some?”
Madame Cronach followed the chef and returned with about a cup of bran. She mixed it with finely ground flour, poured it into a bowl, and began to make pies with butter.
“Do you eat bran?”
“Yes. It’s so nutritious.”
Madame Cronach worked her hands diligently and handed Kaian a spatula.
“Well, I guess it’s not something that people would put in their mouths in Rowen.”
Bran was the coarse inner husk that came out when grinding wheat flour.
The very tough outer husk was peeled off, and the finely ground flour was obtained from the slightly softer inner husk, leaving behind white flour and chewable inner husk.
In Rowen, where food was abundant, there was a saying that there were no beggars, so there was no need to worry about starvation. But even in Valmonde, which was much further north, the ingredients that could be grown and eaten from the ground were much more expensive than in the south.
They had to fill their stomachs with what they could get. The rest had no choice but to buy what they could from the south with the money they earned from working in the mountains or mines.
How much worse must it have been in the village of Plogne, where people avoided the bustling city and dug up herbs and dried them deep in the mountains?
As Kaian made dough by chopping butter finely with the spatula she had received just like Madame Cronach, she watched for a moment, then washed blueberries, put honey in a pot, and began to cook them.
“You don’t use sugar?”
“That’ll be later.”
Madame Cronach seemed delighted as she made blueberry compote mixed with bran and honey instead of sugar.
“You haven’t done it in a long time, but you haven’t forgotten.”
Kaian wanted to ask lightly but kept his mouth shut. Thinking about her lost decade, the reason came to mind.
Kaian knew better than anyone how Madame Cronach lived as the owner of Salon Arvo in the capital.
She was always busy managing the things he gave her.
It was entirely his fault that Madame Cronach had so much to do. Madame Cronach’s power in Salon Arvo was absolute. Temnes had funded the salon, but she was in charge of its operations.
Naturally, the more capable owner held the reins than the actual owner of the salon, who might or might not come to the capital once a year. So Madame Cronach didn’t have to cook or do anything in the kitchen herself. She made her own place. She probably enjoyed eating, dressing, and living like any other noblewoman.
She bought quite a few expensive jewels and dresses that her husband couldn’t easily touch because he was watching her closely.
Her attire was proof that the salon Arvo was thriving.
However, she looked much more lively as she rolled out the dough with a little flour on her bare cheeks than when she was beautifully made up and dressed in a sophisticated manner.
She put the dough in the pie pan, put the stewed blueberries on it, and covered it with the dough that she had made into a net shape. Then, before putting it in the oven, she sprinkled a little sugar on it.
“This way, we can use less sugar.”
Kaian quickly understood the standards of the Plogne method.
If you think about eating in a way that saves ingredients that need to be refined by human hands, it seems like the Plogne way.
Normally, wild honey is much more valuable and rare, but it is like saving things like sugar that can be bought at the market rather than those that can be found in the mountains.
“So she grew up in that kind of place?”
When Kaian blurted out, Madame Cronach laughed, who immediately understood.
“Have you ever been to Plogne yourself?”
“No. Before that.”
Although Madame Elise told him about the secret of the sacred tree, Plogne village was hidden at the edge of the Valmonde estate.
There was no way to go all the way across the continent from Rowen to the north to see it.
He had vaguely thought that he would go to the north someday and see the enormous tree that seemed to hold up the sky, but all he saw was a pile of charcoal that had been quietly burned down.
“You know how to cook, right?”
“It’s the Temnes family tradition. It affects survival in times of emergency.”
“I think it’s a good family tradition.”
They chatted and waited for the pie to cook.
As the sweet smell filled the kitchen, Claudel, wearing a comfortable Place Rowen-style dress and a shawl, appeared with Hannah.
“Wow. This smell!”
Hannah sniffed, her belly growing as she neared the end of her pregnancy.
“I heard you were making a blueberry pie, so I came.”
“Come on. Sit over here.”
Madame Cronach beckoned to Claudel.
The chef had the maids wipe the counter clean with a rag once more in the meeting room, and quickly brought out tea and dishes and prepared them for each person. The blueberry pie that came out of the oven gave off a strong aura.
The smell permeated the entire kitchen, making the chef swallow his saliva. He seemed even more curious, unable to imagine that it was a pie made with bran.
Madame Cronach cut the still-hot pie and quickly placed it on a plate.
“Don’t you let it cool?”
When the chef couldn’t help but ask, she nodded.
“Our kids are impatient, so they ate it before it cooled down.”
Claudel broke the pie with her fork, blew on it, and put it in her mouth, her face brightening.
“Mmm. It’s too... too sweet.”
Kaian, who had been waiting for her reaction, quickly offered her tea.
“Then you should drink some tea.”
“It’s so delicious!”
Watching the woman, who had been standing still and not eating much, eagerly attack the pie, Kaian smiled with the corners of his lips raised in satisfaction.
Everyone who had rarely seen the head of the household, who usually had a cold and strict face, smile like that was shocked at that moment.
“Does it suit your taste?”
“Mmm. Haa. I really wanted to eat it.”
Her fork, which was halfway through eating the pie, suddenly stopped in midair.
“What’s wrong?”
When Kaian looked at Claudel, her eyes were filled with tears.
“Claudel? Are you crying?”
The people who had been concentrating on tasting the pie looked at her for a moment at his words.
Claudel wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and smiled at Kaian.
“...I’m happy. I really wanted to eat it when the baby was in my stomach.”
“It was worth making.”
“You made this?”
Kaian looked smug at Claudel’s honest admiration.
“Madame Cronach taught me.”
Madame Cronach laughed. She had clearly witnessed why Kaian had been so eager to follow her and make a pie.
The smell of the unfamiliar recipe pie made even the servants of the castle gather one by one and share the pie taken out of the oven, admiring it.
Madame Cronach’s eyes, which had been joyfully among them, suddenly became silent.
Hannah looked at her and asked.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ues?”
“I was just wondering if something was uncomfortable.”
“Oh. No.”
Madame Cronach waved her hand.
“What’s wrong? Are you tired from suddenly cooking?”
When Kaian looked at her and asked, Madame Cronach smiled.
“I was reminded of someone who really liked this pie.”
“Haaaaaah.”
The Duke of Vermont sighed deeply.
“What is this?”
Contrary to his words to Irena that she should proudly fulfill her duty to the family, he was sometimes filled with worry.
“Even if I bring in a successor and sit down, Irena cannot be taken hostage by the King.”
In any case, the Royal Army had to shake up the Rowen Castle together until the child was brought to Valmonde.
The moment when the head of the household makes a decision comes very suddenly.
Like a bolt of lightning striking the ground.
He had never imagined that he would make such a decision, but it was clearly established that this was the path for the family. Since it would be impossible to understand unless he had personally taken on such a responsibility, the Duke of Vermont gave up on persuading Irena.
He was grateful that his daughter had decided to go to the palace.
Otherwise, all sorts of rumors would have been circulating around the castle of Valmonde.
The castle, with its closed structure, functioned like a city in itself, but it was also vulnerable to rumors and instigation within. He had to hope that Irena would leave for the capital without causing any commotion.
At that moment, a commotion arose outside.
“Duke! Oh, something terrible has happened.”
“What’s the commotion?”
“That’s it. Bam!”
A hand suddenly reached out from beside the adjutant.
The adjutant fell backward at the large, armed man’s hand waving as if to tell him to get out of the way.
“You, you!”
Golden-eyed glared at the Duke of Vermont from under his wild red hair that reached his shoulders.
“It’s been a while.”
“Eh, Evan.”
“Nothing has changed here.”
The man who had entered the office without hesitation slumped down on the sofa, and the sound of the wood cracking as if it was going to break could be heard.
Evan asked coldly.
“Where is my daughter?”
“You don’t use sugar?”
“That’ll be later.”
Madame Cronach seemed delighted as she made blueberry compote mixed with bran and honey instead of sugar.
“You haven’t done it in a long time, but you haven’t forgotten.”
Kaian wanted to ask lightly but kept his mouth shut. Thinking about her lost decade, the reason came to mind.
Kaian knew better than anyone how Madame Cronach lived as the owner of Salon Arvo in the capital.
She was always busy managing the things he gave her.
It was entirely his fault that Madame Cronach had so much to do. Madame Cronach’s power in Salon Arvo was absolute. Temnes had funded the salon, but she was in charge of its operations.
Naturally, the more capable owner held the reins than the actual owner of the salon, who might or might not come to the capital once a year. So Madame Cronach didn’t have to cook or do anything in the kitchen herself. She made her own place. She probably enjoyed eating, dressing, and living like any other noblewoman.
She bought quite a few expensive jewels and dresses that her husband couldn’t easily touch because he was watching her closely.
Her attire was proof that the salon Arvo was thriving.
However, she looked much more lively as she rolled out the dough with a little flour on her bare cheeks than when she was beautifully made up and dressed in a sophisticated manner.
She put the dough in the pie pan, put the stewed blueberries on it, and covered it with the dough that she had made into a net shape. Then, before putting it in the oven, she sprinkled a little sugar on it.
“This way, we can use less sugar.”
Kaian quickly understood the standards of the Plogne method.
If you think about eating in a way that saves ingredients that need to be refined by human hands, it seems like the Plogne way.
Normally, wild honey is much more valuable and rare, but it is like saving things like sugar that can be bought at the market rather than those that can be found in the mountains.
“So she grew up in that kind of place?”
When Kaian blurted out, Madame Cronach laughed, who immediately understood.
“Have you ever been to Plogne yourself?”
“No. Before that.”
Although Madame Elise told him about the secret of the sacred tree, Plogne village was hidden at the edge of the Valmonde estate.
There was no way to go all the way across the continent from Rowen to the north to see it.
He had vaguely thought that he would go to the north someday and see the enormous tree that seemed to hold up the sky, but all he saw was a pile of charcoal that had been quietly burned down.
“You know how to cook, right?”
“It’s the Temnes family tradition. It affects survival in times of emergency.”
“I think it’s a good family tradition.”
They chatted and waited for the pie to cook.
As the sweet smell filled the kitchen, Claudel, wearing a comfortable Place Rowen-style dress and a shawl, appeared with Hannah.
“Wow. This smell!”
Hannah sniffed, her belly growing as she neared the end of her pregnancy.
“I heard you were making a blueberry pie, so I came.”
“Come on. Sit over here.”
Madame Cronach beckoned to Claudel.
The chef had the maids wipe the counter clean with a rag once more in the meeting room, and quickly brought out tea and dishes and prepared them for each person. The blueberry pie that came out of the oven gave off a strong aura.
The smell permeated the entire kitchen, making the chef swallow his saliva. He seemed even more curious, unable to imagine that it was a pie made with bran.
Madame Cronach cut the still-hot pie and quickly placed it on a plate.
“Don’t you let it cool?”
When the chef couldn’t help but ask, she nodded.
“Our kids are impatient, so they ate it before it cooled down.”
Claudel broke the pie with her fork, blew on it, and put it in her mouth, her face brightening.
“Mmm. It’s too... too sweet.”
Kaian, who had been waiting for her reaction, quickly offered her tea.
“Then you should drink some tea.”
“It’s so delicious!”
Watching the woman, who had been standing still and not eating much, eagerly attack the pie, Kaian smiled with the corners of his lips raised in satisfaction.
Everyone who had rarely seen the head of the household, who usually had a cold and strict face, smile like that was shocked at that moment.
“Does it suit your taste?”
“Mmm. Haa. I really wanted to eat it.”
Her fork, which was halfway through eating the pie, suddenly stopped in midair.
“What’s wrong?”
When Kaian looked at Claudel, her eyes were filled with tears.
“Claudel? Are you crying?”
The people who had been concentrating on tasting the pie looked at her for a moment at his words.
Claudel wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and smiled at Kaian.
“...I’m happy. I really wanted to eat it when the baby was in my stomach.”
“It was worth making.”
“You made this?”
Kaian looked smug at Claudel’s honest admiration.
“Madame Cronach taught me.”
Madame Cronach laughed. She had clearly witnessed why Kaian had been so eager to follow her and make a pie.
The smell of the unfamiliar recipe pie made even the servants of the castle gather one by one and share the pie taken out of the oven, admiring it.
Madame Cronach’s eyes, which had been joyfully among them, suddenly became silent.
Hannah looked at her and asked.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ues?”
“I was just wondering if something was uncomfortable.”
“Oh. No.”
Madame Cronach waved her hand.
“What’s wrong? Are you tired from suddenly cooking?”
When Kaian looked at her and asked, Madame Cronach smiled.
“I was reminded of someone who really liked this pie.”
***
“Haaaaaah.”
The Duke of Vermont sighed deeply.
“What is this?”
Contrary to his words to Irena that she should proudly fulfill her duty to the family, he was sometimes filled with worry.
“Even if I bring in a successor and sit down, Irena cannot be taken hostage by the King.”
In any case, the Royal Army had to shake up the Rowen Castle together until the child was brought to Valmonde.
The moment when the head of the household makes a decision comes very suddenly.
Like a bolt of lightning striking the ground.
He had never imagined that he would make such a decision, but it was clearly established that this was the path for the family. Since it would be impossible to understand unless he had personally taken on such a responsibility, the Duke of Vermont gave up on persuading Irena.
He was grateful that his daughter had decided to go to the palace.
Otherwise, all sorts of rumors would have been circulating around the castle of Valmonde.
The castle, with its closed structure, functioned like a city in itself, but it was also vulnerable to rumors and instigation within. He had to hope that Irena would leave for the capital without causing any commotion.
At that moment, a commotion arose outside.
“Duke! Oh, something terrible has happened.”
“What’s the commotion?”
“That’s it. Bam!”
A hand suddenly reached out from beside the adjutant.
The adjutant fell backward at the large, armed man’s hand waving as if to tell him to get out of the way.
“You, you!”
Golden-eyed glared at the Duke of Vermont from under his wild red hair that reached his shoulders.
“It’s been a while.”
“Eh, Evan.”
“Nothing has changed here.”
The man who had entered the office without hesitation slumped down on the sofa, and the sound of the wood cracking as if it was going to break could be heard.
Evan asked coldly.
“Where is my daughter?”
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