Chapter 22

Chapter 22

“Is something the matter, Milady?”

Jean, the Ducal Manor’s esteemed chef who had the meticulousness to match his reputation, was currently sweating bullets in front of me. It was quite the sight to look at since he was several times bigger than me.

As if he could read my mind, he wiped off the sweat on his forehead, perhaps to mask the mismatch of his current disposition.

“No, but I’m here to ask you something. Are you the one who plans His Grace’s meals?”

“I coordinate with Doctor Raymond, yes. We adjust his meal plan every week after the doctor is done with the usual check-ups.”

“You do know there’s…very little meat in his diet? It’s mostly just vegetables and watery soup.”

I could feel that they’re trying their best to accommodate a sick person’s frail condition. Still, could anyone even call these proper meals? Unconsciously placing a hand on my own stomach, just imagining actual meals made me hungry.

“His Grace’s metabolism is not so good, so I always try to make his meals as light as possible.”

“Hmm.”

I looked at the meal plan again, but wasn’t this too extreme?

“Is there a problem, Milady…?” Jean grew nervous as my expression became more serious.

“His stomach is really…really delicate…”

Immersed in my thoughts, I tapped my cheek with one hand and rested my chin on the other, failing to remember that I was still injured.

“Ack—”

The pain that I had forgotten inadvertently poured in all at once. My hand throbbed terribly, and worse, the sudden memory of being close enough to touch Amoide at the pavilion rushed through my mind.

Though he was frail due to his illness, it was apparent that there was still some solid muscle there beneath his skin. If it hadn’t been for his unknown condition, I could at least make him eat more. Perhaps if something could be done to stimulate his appetite, he’d be able to eat more than the meager diet Jean and Raymond were feeding him…

Nobody would contentedly eat like a rabbit as the way he did if the food served was palatable enough. It is necessary that Amoide would consume more than just vegetables and watery soup.

“It’s just that…”

“Please don’t hesitate to speak your mind.”

“People have to eat meat.”

“…Pardon?”

“You’re starving him with this meal plan. Even noblewomen on the day of their debut would eat more than this.”

It was common knowledge that the debutante ball was an all-important landmark for the ranks of nobility, and for this, women often went on hellish diets to force themselves into their dresses.

I remembered my time as a maid in a wealthy aristocrat’s mansion. Back then, on the day of the young lady’s debut, she partook in only a piece of grass to munch on to get her through the day. Hence, it was natural that she was on the brink of collapse the whole time.

And Amoide was eating less than her.

“Then, Milady, you must have been starving during your debut.”

“Me? No way.”

Following my blasé response was an awkward smile.

“I don’t really gain weight easily.”

“Ah.”

Jean only nodded in agreement. He just followed along and believed what I had said was true, but the truth was there just wasn’t enough to eat usually. I never had the luxury to starve myself of my own volition like those noblewomen.

“My husband has a huge build, and he used to wield a sword— and he was the youngest Commander of the Empire’s First Order of the Knights!”

As I spoke, I stretched my arms upward in exaggeration to emphasize my point, while Jean’s eyes followed the motion.

“That is…but…”

“Imagine if I made you eat like His Grace.”

The prodigious chef, who rose to his outstanding position at the tender age of eighteen, was rendered speechless. He must have realized what I’m trying to say now.

“Would anyone be able to regain their strength by eating grass like this? It’s such a cruel punishment for an already powerless man, Jean.”

Hearing my own words, I unconsciously shifted my gaze toward my hand. Yeah, what I said was true, but it was still weird how he had enough power in him that caused this much injury to my poor hand.

Jean’s eyebrows bunched together in the middle.

“That’s…”

“You’d find it hard, right? You’d lose even more vitality.”

“Vitality… Yes, I see now…”

Jean nodded fervently.

“A man needs to have power, of course!” Suddenly, he sat up and lifted a burly arm to show off his muscles.

“Vitality for the day…and for the night…!”

“Now, you understand.”

I tried to suppress my grin.

“My husband won’t be able to digest meat well at first because it’s been so long, but he’ll be able to eat some if you chop them into small pieces. I think you can make it work, after all, you’re the best of the best, right Jean?”

“No need to state the obvious, Milady.”

He puffed up his chest and flashed a proud smile.

“Then, I’ll count on you to improve His Grace’s meal plan so he can regain his strength. Something invigorating and easy on the stomach at the same time.”

“I shall try my best, Your Grace.”

I nodded in return and gave him a satisfactory smile. At that moment, I noticed that the knife he had been holding earlier was now placed carefully in one corner.

“May I know where you buy the ingredients?”

“Our meat, vegetables, milk, and eggs are all from the Duchy’s farm. The ingredients must be as fresh as possible after all.”

Matching his enthusiasm, I agreed with him excitedly.

“Yes, using fresh ingredients is indeed the basis of fine dining.”

“If there’s anything else you require, please send a list to the maids. I buy the ingredients I personally use for cooking, though, because they just pick at random…”

“How about fish?”

“The market at the Capital’s harbor is open every day, so fish is bought only when needed. If there’s a need for a specific type of fish, we would buy them through an auction.”

“What about special ingredients?”

“Um… Milady, are you talking about special ingredients that would increase…vitality?”

“Ah.”

Jean smiled knowingly.

“I do know what kind of food is needed for that, but…”

As his voice dropped to a whisper, I replied in an equally secretive manner. “But…?”

“One drawback is that it’s expensive.”

Slowly leaning back into my chair, I summoned as much faux-confidence as I could to emulate the visage of a rich madam.

“Are you forgetting who I am, Jean?”

“The Efret Dukedom’s Duchess.”

“If you know, then just tell me if you need anything.”

I showed Jean my right hand, from which I fashioned a circle using the tips of my thumb and forefinger: the ultimate symbol of money. Even though, to be honest, I had absolutely not a squat of money nor power of my own, his eyes began to twinkle nevertheless.

“High quality ingredients are the most important component of a good dish, so don’t need to think about money. Reserve only the best for His Grace the Duke.”

After spewing all that, I suddenly realized the irony of it all and almost broke character by bursting into laughter. I was actually sympathetic to Jean’s hesitance since I constantly struggled to make ends meet back then.

One good thing about entering this household was that, at the very least, I didn’t need to think about that anymore.

It’s not my money, but. Oh well.

The food’s going into the Duke’s mouth anyway.

“I heard you’re well-versed in the practice of gastronomy?”

One of the reasons Camilla hired him from a far-flung country was because he’s good at curating all kinds of healthy food, after all.

“That’s right.”

Pretending to be bashful, Jean coughed into his hand as a corner of his lips crawled up.

“I’ve developed more than a hundred recipes on my own, Milady. I dare say I’ve mastered the delicate balance between taste and nutrition.”

“That’s great, I’m looking forward to it already.”

“Because it’s a request from the Duchess, I shall do my very best.”

Jean’s eyes were shining with determination. In response, I gave him a pleased nod.

“I give you my full support.” As I smiled, clasping my hands in front of my chest to show my appreciation. Though as I did so, the knife once again glinted in my periphery. “By the way, why were you holding that knife in such a way earlier?”

“Ah, it’s because I had to catch a criminal earlier.”

“…A criminal?”

At this, Rona and I exchanged a furtive glance.

“That terrible fish thief… I mean, that juvenile cat caused trouble again.”

Just thinking about it made Jean clench his teeth in anger.

“There are cats trespassing?”

“Yes.”

He pointed to the underground kitchen’s only window. It was very small for a kitchen of this size, but the light seeping through it was enough to illuminate the entire room. Considering how narrow the opening was, only cats or mice would be able to come in.

…Wait. A cat? A cat, he said?

“Jean, that cat. Is it perhaps a black cat?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Is it also very plump…?”

He nodded.

When I first met that cat, I thought it was pregnant, but I guess it turned out it’s just been eating well. If the cat had been pregnant, its belly wouldn’t have been as soft as it was.

Ah, that belly…

Petting that cat’s belly was my only source of comfort whenever I struggled to suppress my longing for my previous life.

“It was very thin before, but after snatching up that much fish, it would sometimes get stuck between the window whenever it tries to sneak in.”

“But Jean, aren’t you… Aren’t you raising that cat?”

[ Meoooow. ]

I recalled a memory of the cat rubbing its face into my hand, thinking it was being raised in the manor judging by how leisurely it walked everywhere. However, Jean looked at me as if I had grown an extra head.

“Absolutely not, Milady. It would be very bad for the master’s health if I did.”

“…”

I had nothing to say to that. Jean’s reply was a clear cut rebuttal, yet I couldn’t help but doubt his words.

‘Was it really not the case?’

“Doctor Raymond said that cat fur is detrimental to patients with poor respiratory functions, so he told me to never raise hairy animals inside the estate.”

Well, that made sense. I have also heard something of the sort before as well, so I understood what he was saying.

“Bu-but… Amoide’s condition shouldn’t be something like a respiratory problem…?”

That’s not the case, right? It shouldn’t be?

Panic immediately flooded my senses.