《Fast Food in Another World》 Prologue I have decided not to ponder over the situation I had found myself in anymore. It was a rational decision that I have made not that long ago. Just now, actually. For the sake of my mental health, it was clearly the right choice. Obsessing over it and feeling sorry for yourself will not help you solve anything, was what I told myself. And yet in reality, staring down at my sticky hands, I couldn¡¯t help but think about it. The only source of light in this room was a single furnace at the other end of the table. Although the flames were dancing happily, it was still a bit too dim for me to actually see anything more than a silhouette of my soggy fingers. Not like I didn¡¯t know what I would see. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ I¡¯m so, so sorry,¡± weak words escaped my mouth. My fingers grasped a knife on the table. Still warm from the fresh blood, its handle felt right at home in my just as bloody palm. My hand gripped the knife tightly, as my eyes found the gory pulp on the table. (Maybe the darkness isn¡¯t so bad after all¡­.. At least I can¡¯t see that thing.)Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. The smell of blood was filling my nostrils and a taste in my mouth was that of metal. Just some hours ago I was on my way home from a supermarket, but through some cruel twist of fate, my whole life turned upside down in a blink of an eye. ¡°No, shut up!¡± I heard myself say. I have decided not to think about this situation. I have decided not to feel sorry for myself. And it wasn¡¯t that long ago either. Just now, actually. So why the hell was I so set on looking back to today¡¯s events? I have to keep looking forward. The only way for me to survive in this unfamiliar world that I was thrown into is to adopt quickly. Even if it means doing things that I wouldn¡¯t normally do. I felt my grip on the knife harden. If I wanted to survive, there was no other way. ¡°I¡¯m sorry mister chicken, but it¡¯s time for you to go.¡± Slaughtering a chicken isn¡¯t something I had ever done before, but once my livelihood depended on it, it turned out to be surprisingly doable. It¡¯s crazy, the things people would do to save their life. The only thing left was actually making something out of it. My hand shook slightly and I put the knife back on the table. Not just my future, but my whole survival depended on my making the best dish this world had ever tasted. Not only was I forcibly thrown into this medieval-like world, now I¡¯m cooking for a royalty in order to not get executed. What kind of shitty luck is that?! Oh, right. Is it too late to say that I can¡¯t actually cook? Chapter 1 It¡¯s dead. I hopelessly tried my best, but it was all for not. It was utterly and completely dead. ¡°That damn brat,¡± as those words left my mouth, a few surprised passersby turned my way. Having a shopping bag in between my legs and a party pack of ¡°Let¡¯s¡± chips in my one hand, I was stupidly staring at my phone. There was no helping it. Its battery was utterly and completely dead. And the reason behind it was hardly a mystery either. It¡¯s not like this happened for the first time. ¡°Sigh¡­ ¡± I guess there¡¯s just no helping it. I threw the useless phone back into my pocket, picked up the shopping bag and continued my uneventful journey home. It wasn¡¯t a long walk to where I lived from the supermarket, but even so, it was long enough for me to feel slightly annoyed by not having music play in my ears. Frankly speaking, the journey was boring. More than that, so far it proved to be quite bothersome. For one thing, the bag in my hand wasn¡¯t that full and yet the pack of chips wouldn¡¯t fit. There were a couple of beers, a couple of packed lunches, some fruit and a yogurt in there. Surely, there should be enough space left for a pack of chips. Or so you would think. But alas, these days only about a third of a pack were the chips, the rest was air. Artificially inflated pack was good for two things - keeping chips from getting crushed and taking up a lot of space. Normally I would deflate the pack just enough for it to fit in, but today that was not possible. Thus I continue my journey with a pack of chips in my one hand, and a bag of goods in the other. Looking back to it, having to carry a pack of chips separately was amongst the biggest problems I faced this week. That, and having my phone''s battery die on me, that is. Therefore I was reminded once again how boring of a life I was living.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°Ah! Aili, good evening!¡± I heard a voice. I turn around to see my neighbour from an apartment below mine. She¡¯s a kind looking lady, probably around seventy years of age, though she doesn¡¯t look like it. ¡°Mrs. H, how are you this evening?¡± ¡°Thank you, thank you. I¡¯m doing just fine.¡± The time was a little past eight in the evening and the sky was almost completely dark. Pedestrians were few and far between, as most people have already returned to their homes. It was a calm and quiet night. There was still some walking to be done before we were to reach our stairway, but somehow I wished for it to come sooner. My breathing was erratic and my chest was aching. It did not feel normal. I wasn¡¯t in the top shape, granted, but neither was I so sickly that walking from a supermarket would put me in a state where I was gasping for air. Rather I was taking this route every other day for the past few years without as much as breaking a sweat. I must be coming down with something. ¡°I don¡¯t see that girl that would visit your apartment much anymore,¡± she broke the short-lived silence. ¡°... Yes.¡± ¡°Such a shame¡­ Did the two of you break up?¡± ¡°These things happen.¡± ¡°Ah, she was such a nice girl¡­ You should really try and get back together with her.¡± ¡°...¡± I felt lightheaded to an extent where it was hard for me to walk in a straight line. Even so, it¡¯s not like I would have anything to add to this conversation. ¡°You look really pale, are you feeling alright?¡± ¡°Hm.¡± ¡°Must be heartbreak, eh?¡± ¡°Oh, fuck you.¡± Was what I wanted to say. I stopped myself short, not like I had any energy to open my mouth to begin with. I felt my grocery bag slip through my fingers and a sound of glass breaking echoed on the sidewalk. I tried to move my hand, but my fingers froze, not responding to my commands. I felt a vaguely familiar impulse. My brain was urging me to do something¡­ This didn¡¯t feel right at all, but my head was completely empty. What is it? Why do I feel so?.. ¡­ .... Breathe. That¡¯s right. My lungs and my brain were screaming for air. I need to inhale. Breathe. Breathe, damn it! I tried opening my eyes, only to see a cold hard pavement. I couldn¡¯t breathe in and my mind was becoming foggy. The pain in my chest was so strong I would scream out if I could. Gasping for air I closed my eyes. So this is it, huh? (Must be heartbreak, she says. Damn old hag.) That was my last thought, before my consciousness completely faded. Chapter 2 ¡­ ¡­ ¡­ This must be what they call light at the end of a tunnel. It¡¯s almost what I thought it would be. Less of a tunnel, more of a well, though. Yes, just like lying at the bottom of a well, staring at a sky above your head. It was calm indeed. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°Nothing?¡± All of a sudden I heard two dry voices echo through nothingness. ¡°It is Ogbunabali¡¯s duty to help the souls pass on. Are you Ogbunabali?¡± ¡°Of course I am. I am Ogbunabali. I am definitely not Ekwensu.¡± ¡°I know it is you already, Ekwensu.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°Because I am Ogbunabali.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Is that so.¡± For an eternal rest it sure was noisy. Engulfed by light, I heard the two of them arguing. As if in monotone, their voices were emotionless and distant. ¡°Why did you bring this one here?¡± the one called Ogbunabali asked. ¡°It was his time to pass on as this one died of old age,¡± Ekwensu replied. ¡°Isn¡¯t he just twenty years old?¡± ¡°... It was his lowkey dream to die of natural causes.¡± ¡°There¡¯s nothing natural about dying at twenty!¡± ¡°So you¡¯re saying it wasn¡¯t his time, Ogbunabali?¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t that the female next to him?¡± ¡°That is a shame.¡± ¡°Are you going to rectify?¡± ¡°Then I will grant him a god-like ability and send him to another world to become a hero loved by everyone,¡± Ekwensu responded. ¡°Same as I do for the others.¡± ¡°There are others?¡± ¡°... No others. This is the first. I am Ekwensu.¡± All things considered, they were talking about me, weren¡¯t they? More than that, it was the old hag that was supposed to pass on. Guess it was just my luck. I couldn¡¯t really see, not to mention speak. All I could do was listen. ¡°There is no need. There is still time,¡± Ogbunabali returned. ¡°He was out of his body for only twenty minutes. You can still send him back.¡± ¡°Twenty minutes. Won¡¯t there be brain damage?¡± ¡°A little brain damage never hurt anyone.¡± Oi oi! Wait! What do you mean brain damage? Wasn¡¯t I dead already? And what¡¯s with that monotone?! Did they even care what would happen to me? I¡¯m here because of you in the first place! ¡°Then send him back,¡± Ogbunabali concluded. ¡°Should I give him an extraordinary ability?¡± ¡°No ability required.¡± ¡°No ability required,¡± Ekwensu acknowledged. As I felt myself being spirited once again and the light that was surrounding me faded, I couldn¡¯t help but feel uneasy. Guess I¡¯m going back after all. Chapter 3 I woke up to spit drooling down my face. My body was laying on the ground motionless, my muscles all stiff, unable to fulfill the commands sent from the brain. My own saliva was uncontrollably streaming down my cheeks as I was struggling to move my face. Finally, I managed to open my eyes. The sky in front of me was pitch black. Now I remember. My memories started flooding back all at once. I was walking back home from a market when suddenly I collapsed and then¡­ The rest was a bit of a haze, a dream that I had. So I guess I did not die after all. (Ah. So I guess I¡¯m a vegetable now.) ... But more than that, this really didn¡¯t look like a hospital. In fact, I¡¯m pretty sure it was the great outdoors. It didn¡¯t look like the urban area that I collapsed in, though. From little I could see without moving my head, I was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Surprisingly, the pavement that I should be laying on was strikingly soft and inviting. If I had to guess, I¡¯d say I was laying on sand. But that was clearly impossible. Unless¡­ Was I dead after all? Was this some sort of a weird afterlife where you have to lay on the sand unable to move for the whole eternity?.. That doesn¡¯t sound right. I gather my strength just to try and move my head. What lay in front of me, was something that I should have seen coming. There was no doubt about it, I was somewhere on a beach. Or should I rather say - what the hell was I doing on the beach?! Was this some sort of a prank? No, no one would prank a guy who was having a stroke by bringing him to the beach. So how long was I out? The sky was still dark, so it couldn¡¯t have been that long. Right, wasn¡¯t it just twenty minutes? ¡­ ... Oh. The memory that was blurry in my mind like a forgotten dream, now I could see clear as day. Being engulfed in the light and hearing some voices talking about¡­ Oh. So it was just a dream after all. There¡¯s no way some divine entity actually made a mistake and took the wrong soul. And then just threw me back as if nothing happened¡­ There¡¯s no way¡­ I need to calm down. I have to breathe. I could feel my muscles letting go little by little and sense returning to my body. I was finally able to move my fingers. Hopefully, the rest of my body will soon follow. ¡°Oi, isn¡¯t that something?¡± I heard a muffled voice. Is someone walking by? Did they notice me? I have to draw attention to myself somehow¡­ But my body wouldn¡¯t listen. ¡°Isn¡¯t that a body?¡± another one replied. Soon I heard a pair of heavy steps approaching. Slowly, as if trying to stay unnoticed they closed in on my paralysed body.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Dead?¡± ¡°Alive.¡± ¡°There must have been a shipwreck?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I was thinking.¡± ¡°Should we just leave him?¡± ¡°He could be one of ours.¡± ¡°His clothes aren¡¯t like anything I¡¯ve ever seen...¡± The two continued talking in suppressed voices over my body. This feels distinctly familiar¡­ ¡°We can¡¯t leave him now. Let¡¯s take him to the hideout, this isn¡¯t our decision to make.¡± One of them kneeled over and the next moment I could feel my body being picked up with ease. I may not have been a sporty type, but even so I weigh over 150 pounds, he shouldn¡¯t be able to pick me up so casually as if it¡¯s the most natural thing in the world. He threw me on his back the way you would a backpack and started going towards the forest that now entered my vision. Being disturbingly close to another man right now, I could feel just how big of a guy he was. Not just his arms, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen shoulders this broad. And he must have been at least 7 feet tall. More importantly¡­ Why the hell was he wearing metal armor? Meanwhile, his more reasonably sized companion waved him to stop. He ducked in half and ran ahead to scout. Being able to finally see one of my saviors full body, my jaw dropped open. There was little doubt about it now. I was found by a couple of crazy people. What he was wearing was a full body armor, the kind you would expect a knight to wear in the middle-ages. He even had a shield on his back, a sword on his belt and everything. He swiftly ran over to the bushes ahead as if looking for something. Considering how these guys were behaving, they must have been hiding from someone. Seeing that the path ahead was clear, we continued our quest to return to a so called ¡°hideout¡±. My frenzied thoughts were rushing through my brain. Just what in the world was going on?! Don¡¯t tell me¡­ The dream that I had, could it be, that it wasn¡¯t actually a dream? Just think for a moment. They were saying something about fantasy realm, or isekai, or whatever. Could it be, that it¡¯s actually some sort of alternative universe?.. Though, wasn¡¯t it decided that I would be sent back to my world? I remember distinctly, since they emphasized not granting me any powers¡­ Ah. Then again, what am I expecting. For a couple of transcendent beings, those two surely were anything but reliable. If they managed to take my life just because I was standing next to an old person, who¡¯s to say they wouldn¡¯t send me to a fantasy world by mistake? And with no overpowered ability?! What am I saying, that¡¯s almost definitely exactly what happened! Just my shitty, shitty luck, I guess¡­ ¡°It¡¯s us.¡± While my thoughts were all over the place, a serious voice of my carrier brought me back. We entered some sort of a cave, well hidden somewhere in the woods. ¡°Did you see anyone?¡± an unfamiliar voice asked. ¡°Commander,¡± another of my rescuers saluted and took off his helmet. What was underneath it, was a head of thick black hair going all the way down to his shoulders. ¡°The area seems to be clear of Germania¡¯s soldiers it should be safe to spend a night here. However, Jerome...¡± After being called, the big fellow (whose name apparently was Jerome) lay me down on the ground. ¡°We found him by the shore. Looks like there was another shipwreck.¡± ¡°You thought he could be one of ours?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°Even so, we can¡¯t let him stay here.¡± ¡°Y-you¡­ Can¡¯t throw me out either,¡± I finally managed to speak. Making sounds was unexpectedly difficult and my parched throat didn¡¯t make things any easier, but I had to speak up. While we were making our way back to the hideout, I regained some of the control over my body. Not only could I move my fingers, I could also turn my wrists and apparently even talk. Though it wasn¡¯t very loud. Nonetheless, I had to speak up. If they start thinking about dumping me, that could turn out to be a huge problem for me. Who knows who else might find me, and if anyone would find me. Fantasy world or not, it was time for me to start fighting for my life. ¡°Oh? Is that so?¡± the commander asked without much interest. The commander was over thirty years of age, with cleanly shaved head and fine black beard. More importantly he had an intense look in his eye, making him a very scary man. Clearly, he¡¯s not someone who¡¯s used to being told what to do and he can¡¯t be easily swayed. Alas, I¡¯m not exactly spineless either. ¡°Well, for one thing, I know exactly where your hideout is...¡± I muttered. That was clearly a lie. I was too preoccupied to actually notice where we were going. Not to mention I didn¡¯t even know which universe I was in to begin with, not to mention this den. ¡°And what¡¯s stopping me from cutting your throat?¡± commander asked, his expression unchanged. That¡­ Hard to argue with that logic. ¡°That¡¯s enough, Sir Renig,¡± a stern, yet soft voice came from within the cave. The owner of the voice turned out to be a girl, maybe around 16 years of age? It was hard to tell in a poorly lit cave. ¡°It¡¯s our duty to protect every and each citizen of the Kingdom,¡± she continued. ¡°So please stop frightening our guest with your scary face.¡± ¡°Your Highness!¡± my two companions from before kneeled, bowing before the girl. A royalty, huh? At first I was skeptical about being thrown into a different world, but there was little doubt now. Running straight into a royal princess of all people? Something that cliched can only happen in another world. Chapter 4 ¡°Are you alright?¡± she came to my immobile body and offered me a hand. This could be dangerous. Assuming she¡¯s an actual princess, I need to watch my step. I don¡¯t know how it works out for others who happen to be transported to bizarre worlds, but acting in inappropriate manner in front of a royalty is the quickest way to lose your head. From what I remember, it¡¯s all about bowing as much as you can, not looking them straight in the eye, and not speaking unless spoken to. As much as I would like to avoid any unnecessary attention, now that I was addressed it would be worse not to reply. ¡°Your Highness¡­ Someone as lowly as I does not deserve a moment of your thought,¡± being so meek should be fine. Or so I thought, but what I got instead, were three confused faces staring down at me. It seems, I¡¯ve said something wrong. She doesn¡¯t look angered, rather genuinely surprised. Was it wrong of me not to take the hand that she had offered? ¡°My apologies, your Highness, it seems I am yet to recover the strength in my body,¡± as I say that, the surprise in her eyes intensifies. ¡°And thus, I will be unable to properly salute you.¡± What¡¯s with those startled looks, anyway? Commander is the only one whose expression remained unchanged, even though he seems to be a little more interested now. Or was I just being made fun of? Were these people actually joking around and now they are surprised to see that I actually bought it? Have I been watching too much anime? ¡°It seems the drowner isn¡¯t a sailor after all,¡± said Jerome. So that¡¯s what it was¡­ ¡°Then speak up, drowner! What is your name?¡± commander interrupted with a harsh tone. Based on how he was called Sir Renig, he must be an actual knight. A noble. ¡°My name...¡± This could turn out to be bothersome. Figuring out what the hell is going on can wait, for now I¡¯ll play along. Even if I¡¯m being made fun of, the worst thing that could happen I¡¯ll lose some face. But if this is real, I could lose my head altogether. They expected me to be a lowly sailor, however the moment I spoke up something clearly gave me away. It wouldn¡¯t be a longshot to assume that sailors weren¡¯t that well educated or well mannered. Considering how quickly they picked up on that, the difference between myself and a sailor must be close to astronomical. As far as I can tell, the way I talk isn¡¯t that different from the princess or the knight commander. Which probably means, that now they expect me to be some sort of a noble¡­ No matter how big of a country this Kingdom was, the number of well educated people should be very limited. If this world is anything like the middle ages I read about in high-school, less than tenth of the population should be able to use proper grammar, not to mention able to read or write. My options were rather limited. I can¡¯t pretend to be a noble or a priest, I would get found out immediately. Same goes to being a knight, or an officer. My best bet is pretending to be an aide. But what was I doing on a ship? Who am I serving under? ¡°Don¡¯t tell me...¡± Sir Renig leaned forward. I have to come up with something fast! If they suspect me of being a spy, I will lose my head for sure. Ah, I really don¡¯t want to die¡­ Knowing those responsible for the afterlife, I will probably end up in some weird place again! I have no choice. The only way is for me to wing it and hope for the best. ¡°You don¡¯t remember your name, do you?¡± the princess inquired.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡­ Or I could pretend I¡¯ve lost my memory. That works too. ¡°I have seen these things happen to soldiers,¡± Jerome assisted. ¡°I thought this might be the case ever since I saw that stupid look on his face.¡± You¡¯re the one to talk, you over-sized bozo. But I¡¯ll take it. ¡°My deepest apologies, it seems that my memory is really hazy right now,¡± I piled on. ¡°If the princess wants to know my name, I remember it. My name is Aili, but as for the name of my lord, I am deeply ashamed to say that I do not know it.¡± ¡°Aili, you say. An unusual name... Then, Aili, you can stay under our care until you regain your strength and your memory,¡± the princess announced. It looked like the knight commander was going to say something, but now that the princess had made her decision there was no way for him to reject it. Good thing for me, I could really use some silence to gather my thoughts. ¡°Then are you feeling better, drowner?¡± Jerome refused to leave me be. ¡°Thank you, the strength is returning to my body, I¡¯ll be up on my legs in no time.¡± ¡°My name is Jerome van Bilderhog and I am a royal guard to Her Majesty, first princess of Jarenbourg - Frederica Maria de Jarenbourg. And this is Albert de Ragossa, he¡¯s a royal knight to Her Majesty,¡± Albert politely bowed his head when introduced. Interestingly, Jerome introduced himself as a royal guard, but Albert as a royal knight. I may be overthinking it, but they seem to behave as equals or even partners. If I¡¯m not mistaken, under normal circumstances, a knight would have an authority over a guard. ¡°Do not feel obligated to carry eternal gratitude for saving your life,¡± Albert apparently wasn¡¯t a very modest person. ¡°Instead, allow me to introduce the first knight commander --¡± ¡°There¡¯s no need,¡± Sir Renig interjected. ¡°I have no intention of getting to know you, drowner. Let¡¯s all survive the night and go our separate ways.¡± Under normal circumstances I would probably get offended, but as things were right now I couldn¡¯t agree more. The more time I spend around a royalty and her guards, the higher the chance of my little play being cut short. Right now, I have to concentrate on getting my strength back so I could explore this world, find out what the hell is going on and make my way back. But before that, something else caught my attention. ¡°Then Sir Jerome, if you don¡¯t mind me asking,¡± I spoke. ¡°Where are we right now, exactly?¡± Jerome looked at his commander before answering, as if he was looking for approval. Renig turned away with a ¡®hmpf¡¯. Do what you want, was what he was saying. ¡°We are in the North-West of the Kingdom of Jarenbourg, just South of the border with the Germanian Empire,¡± Jerome reported. ¡°Weren¡¯t you on a lookout for their soldiers?¡± ¡°That is true, their military was active in this area recently. Seeing how we are escorting Her Majesty, it would be most unfortunate to be found out.¡± ¡°Does that mean we are at war with Germania?¡± ¡°Not quite so. This area was a matter of debate for a long while now. Of course, seeing how this area belonged to the Kingdom for many years, Germania are now trying to seize it by force." Albert added. "Those barbarians, even though they know it¡¯s rightfully ours!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t say it like that, Albert.¡± ¡°Your Majesty!¡± Jerome jumped up to his feet. ¡°Both sides see themselves to be righteous, isn¡¯t that the virtue of every conflict?¡± the princess said, without even looking in our direction. ¡°The conflict right now still can be contained, if one of the sides were to give in. But you do not think that to be the case, do you, Sir Renig? You think we will see an all out war?¡± ¡°... Without any doubt, Your Highness,¡± Commander answered. ¡°The war will break out, it¡¯s only a matter of time.¡± The silence fell in the cave once again. I still had questions I wanted to ask, but drawing any unnecessary attention to myself would be stupid. The best I can do right now is getting my strength back. ¡­ ... ¡°By the bye,¡± I heard a voice. My consciousness fading into a dream land, I lift my eyes to see Albert de Ragossa looking down at me. Oddly enough, it seems not long ago my mind was racing with a million thoughts rushing through my head, it felt like I won¡¯t be able to catch any sleep tonight. Just when I actually started drifting away, I was approached by the less memorable of my two saviors. Just my shitty luck. ¡°When we found your body, you were holding onto this. It seemed to be something really important to you, so I made sure to bring it back.¡± Once he stretched out his hand with an item in his hand my mind went blank for a while. Sir Albert, I honestly thought you were quite useless for a while, but turns out there¡¯s value to you yet. I took it from his hands and inspected it for a long moment. ¡°Was it the only thing? Did you see something else there?¡± I asked. ¡°No, not a thing.¡± ¡°I see. I highly appreciate it, Sir Albert. I am in your debt.¡± ¡°So it was something really important to you after all, just as I thought...¡± he said looking as smug as ever. He stands there for a bit, as if waiting for me to praise him some more, but seeing as I¡¯m too preoccupied with the item in my hands he walks away. Who would¡¯ve thought¡­ Out of all the things for me to get¡­If I were an anime character, tears would be streaming down my face right now. (If you had to go to a deserted island and could only take one thing with you, what would you take?) The trick here is to take the one thing you¡¯ll get the most use out of. Something like a firestarter or a knife. Instead, the choice was made for me. What I was holding in my hands, and the one thing that I had brought with myself to this world, was a party pack of ¡°Let`s¡± chips. What luck. Chapter 5 ¡°Are you feeling any better?¡± As I was stretching my stiff limbs a voice sounded right above me. Leaning on a cold, damp wall of a cave I lift my head to see the princess looking down at me. ¡°Your Highness!¡± I lower my head, avoiding eye contact. ¡°I feel well, thank you. The strength has returned to my body, though I do not deserve your concern.¡± Last night, even though my heart was pounding like crazy and I felt like there was no way I could fall asleep, when I finally managed to drift off I slept like a baby. Jerome, who was waking me up in the morning said he had to shake me for solid five minutes for me to open my eyes. On the upside, I regained the control over my body. On the downside, I was still in a cave, surrounded by knights and the smell of mold. To my huge disbelief, yesterday¡¯s events weren¡¯t a dream. ¡°That is good to hear,¡± she sounded happy. ¡°What about your memory?¡± Ah, my memory. I thought about it before falling asleep. This supposed amnesia just might be the most luck I had so far. I don¡¯t have to prove my credibility, since I don¡¯t remember anything. Not to mention I can freely ask about anything without making a fool out of myself. I already got some invaluable information about this world without raising any suspicion. It¡¯s quite a lucky break, honestly. Giving it up would be stupid. There¡¯s only one answer to her question. ¡°I¡¯m afraid no luck there, Your Highness.¡± ¡°A shame. I hope you will regain what you have lost,¡± her voice sounds as lively as before. When I woke up, I was able to take a better look at her. She was a young girl, with long red hair going all the way down to her waist and some freckles on her kind face. She wasn¡¯t necessarily a beauty, but she wasn¡¯t bad looking either. Honestly, some modern makeup would do wonders for her. Instead, she had a certain air of royalty around her which was probably the next best thing. Considering the millenium I was (supposedly) thrown into, even without her status she would probably be popular. If not for anything else, then at least for those big bright blue eyes. ¡°Your Highness, you shouldn''t concern yourself with that,¡± a stern voice echoed through the cave. ¡°Please, come and take a seat.¡± Sir Renig, commander of princess¡¯ guard set up a chair for her to sit on, which she accepted. Even at night she was sleeping on a makeshift bed the knights had thrown together, when the rest of us were sleeping on the floor. That only makes sense. The commander, however, wasn¡¯t very pleased with me being here. He was a bald, scary looking man, with a chilling expression on his face. In the light of day he turned out to be even more frightening than before. ¡°Sir Renig...¡± ¡°How can I serve, Your Highness?¡± ¡°Is there anything¡­ To eat?¡± she asked, looking a bit lost. That must be a question she never thought she would have to say out loud in her life. Being a princess, such necessities as food were always taken care of by someone else without her even asking. Now she had to lower herself to voicing that question. More than that, she probably knew the answer already¡­ Maybe that¡¯s why she struggled to ask it in the first place? ¡°My apologies, Your Highness...¡± Renig forced the words out of his mouth. Just like the princess who never had to ask for food, he never had to deny her anything. He vowed to take care of everything she might desire, yet now he was helpless. He couldn¡¯t even provide food... The look on his face darkened as he apologised. He clearly cared for the princess. If cutting off his leg would take care of her hunger, he would cut it off in a heartbeat. Or, more likely, my leg... ¡°Then the situation is dire?¡± ¡°The Germanian forces are now scouting the area. We still don¡¯t know whether how well they are informed about us being here, but we can¡¯t risk making any moves. Not even to gather berries, not to mention hunt or set up a fire...¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. That was a hard decision for him to make. He had to make princess¡¯ overall safety a priority, even at a cost of her well-being. He made the choice knowing full well what the cost would be. I wouldn¡¯t expect anything less of him. ¡°Sir Renig, I can survive without food for a few days¡­ It¡¯s nothing for you to worry about. But I need you to tell me the truth,¡± she said. ¡°What are our options?¡± ¡°Well...¡± he considered for a moment. ¡±No matter what, Your Highness¡¯ life is not in danger. Even if we are found out, they wouldn¡¯t dare harm a princess. Most likely, you would be ransomed for a considerable price.¡± (And what about you? What would happen to you?) Such questions could be expected, but they never left her mouth. After all, she was a princess, she couldn¡¯t bother with such meaningless sentiments. Or was it because she knew full well what would happen to the rest of us without having to ask? Meanwhile, a thought that was brewing in my mind for a while now came to fruition. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking,¡± I asked for permission to speak. Am I being too cautious? The others, not just Sir Renig, seem to be a bit more casual with the princess than I am. Well, being too polite never killed anyone. I hope. ¡°Please,¡± her lips moved. ¡°Tsk,¡± Renig clicked his tongue. He really wasn¡¯t happy about my speaking up. ¡°How did Your Highness end up in an area of conflict in the first place?¡± ¡°It was my hope to settle this dispute with a negotiation,¡± she said with a sad expression on her face. ¡°However, it seems Germanians were not as willing to talk.¡± ¡°Your Highness, you don¡¯t have to cover for them. It was a trap, they knew that you were coming, it¡¯s no coincidence that they chose to invade at this time.¡± ¡°Maybe it is as you say. But if I can stop an all out war from breaking out, believe me when I say it, I will do anything in my power to achieve it.¡± ¡°I do believe, Your Highness,¡± Renig bowed his head. ¡°Then how long were you hiding in here?¡± ¡°We had to run from Turen two nights ago and we sought shelter in this cave yesterday afternoon, Drowner,¡± Renig answered my question. They didn¡¯t have any food when they brought me over. They shared some water with me, but no food. It would be safe to assume that they didn¡¯t eat after entering this cave, which means at best they didn¡¯t have anything for at least a day. At worst, ever since they escaped Turen. That¡¯s a long time to go without food. ¡°Then, Your Highness, please forgive my unmannerly behavior,¡± I say bowing deeply. ¡°It was rude of me not to offer at first.¡± I approach her carefully with an offering at hand. Renig tensed up as I started moving towards the princess, but he didn¡¯t intervene. ¡°This...¡± she looked at me dumbfounded. ¡°Isn¡¯t this your precious remembrance?¡± That¡¯s right¡­ In order to survive, I might have to give up the only thing I brought from my world. Then again, a pack of chips is a small price to pay for a favour with a royal princess. ¡°I am most grateful to you for saving my life. I would be humbled if you were to accept it, Your Highness.¡± ¡°Then I will accept your gift. But, what is it?¡± ¡°If I may...¡± I say and take the pack from her hands. My fingers skillfully find the corner of the pack and open it neatly. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s...¡± ''If in doubt, always follow your nose'' - a great man once said. The moment I opened the bag, a smell of spices filled the small cave. The princess, even though uninformed about the contents of the bag, must¡¯ve recognized it as food immediately. By the looks of it she was struggling to remain composed after smelling food¡­ Just how hungry was she? ¡°Then, please...¡± I offered her the bag. ¡°Hold on a moment!¡± ¡°Ah?..¡± The princess had her hand almost in the bag, when commander¡¯s stern voice echoed through the cave. ¡°What is it that you are planning to do?¡± he asked me, gripping the handle of his sword. This is no good¡­ All I tried to do was be a decent human being and share my food with those in need¡­ But it¡¯s not like I did not see this coming. ¡°This is food.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like any food that I have ever seen! What is it? Tell me!¡± he demanded. ¡°Sir Renig, isn¡¯t it fine?..¡± princess must have been really hungry. She looked like a sad puppy, with food taken away right from under his nose. ¡°My apologies, Your Highness¡­ But I cannot allow you to just anything...¡± ¡°What is the issue here, Sir Commander? If you are concerned that this food is not suitable for a royalty, I must admit that you are right. This is very much a commoner food.¡± ¡°That is not the issue at hand.¡± ¡°Do you think it might be poisonous? Would it be alright, if I tasted it beforehand, then?¡± Renig grinded his teeth in anger, but before he could say anything, the princess interfered. ¡°I am sure that would be acceptable.¡± I stretched out my arm into the pack of chips and took a couple. I showed them to Renig and dramatically put them in my mouth. Until now, I didn¡¯t realise how hungry I actually was. I didn¡¯t have anything to eat for over 20 hours, so the onion-sour cream chips were more delicious than ever before. Sadly, they weren¡¯t mine to eat anymore. ¡°Well, he seems to be fine, don¡¯t you agree, Sir Renig?¡± ¡°Yes, Your Highness...¡± ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, it really is a gesture of good faith,¡± I tried to calm Renig down. The man hates me already, there¡¯s no point in hassling him any more. ¡°Then I shall help myself,¡± the princess said happily. She really looked out of place, carefully picking out a single chip and biting off a small part of it. The moment food entered her mouth, the expression on her face changed. The smile and anticipation vanished without a trace, what was left instead was¡­ Nothing. A face void of emotion. ¡°Y, Your Highness?¡± Renig asked his own face going pale. In fact, I probably was just as pale as he was, if not more. Did I miscalculate? The idea was, that the princess would be hungry enough to find almost anything edible. Even a mediocre dish should suffice her refined taste buds. Was I wrong? What if she doesn¡¯t like it? What if she thinks I¡¯m trying to poison her?! ¡°This is...¡± she finally spoke, after what felt like an eternity. ¡°Delicious.¡± Chapter 6 Argh¡­. I can breathe again. A full smile appeared on the princess'' face. ¡°This is truly exquisite,¡± she said smiling right at me. ¡°Such a rich and savory taste. It is spicy, but at the same time it¡¯s a bit sour and even a little sweet. It¡¯s like nothing I have ever tasted.¡± ¡°I am glad it is to your liking, Your Highness,¡± I bow again. ¡°Sir Renig, you have to taste this.¡± ¡°I¡­ It would be my honor to share food with Her Highness.¡± He took out a single piece as well and just like the princess, was in no rush to eat it whole. ¡°Ah.¡± ¡°So? What do you think?¡± she seemed excited. ¡°It¡¯s as Your Highness said,¡± Renig admitted. ¡°It really is rather good.¡± She took another piece and put it in her mouth, she ate it properly before asking. ¡°But what is it exactly that I am eating?¡± This was the one question I wanted to hear the least. The answer wasn¡¯t particularly difficult or complicated, but I hesitated. The possibilities were endless and my healthy paranoia got the better of me once again. ¡°What do you think it is, Sir Renig?¡± she asked before I could come up with an answer. ¡°I am afraid I do not know, Your Highness. Some of the spices seem familiar, but at the same time different and unusual.¡± ¡°Yes, I agree. Sir Cuisinier, you have to tell us what it is!¡± Well, since I have to, guess there¡¯s no dodging the issue now. ¡°This is what we call ¡®chips¡¯, Your Highness.¡± ¡°Chips, you say. And what are they made of?¡± ¡°It¡¯s potatoes, Your Highness,¡± I said bowing deeply once again. The moment of truth. The way I see it, there are three possibilities. If this world is anything like the one I come from, the concept of potatoes might still be unfamiliar to them. If my (admittedly limited) history knowledge isn¡¯t wrong, potatoes came into play only around the 15th century. If potatoes don¡¯t exist here yet, explaining it could be rather troublesome. Another scenario is, potatoes are known to them, but are considered unfit for royalty. Considering the circumstances, I could still get away with it, if potatoes are merely commoner food. However, it would be very bad if potatoes turn out to be something like fodder for the pigs¡­ Argh, a shiver ran down my spine. ¡°Potatoes?!¡± Renig jumped up once again. ¡°It surely is¡­ Quite outstanding, Sir Cuisinier.¡± So it¡¯s fine after all? I really might get another heart attack if I have to spend more time in this world. Though it seems I lucked out this time. ¡°But how can this be? I have never tasted potatoes this delicious,¡± she inquired with a glimmer in her eye. ¡°It¡¯s really nothing out of the ordinary, Your Highness,¡± I try to dodge the question. ¡°It really isn¡¯t food befitting a princess, so please forgive my audacious behavior.¡± ¡°Nonsense! I have to know!¡± She really is quite demanding. Just as to be expected of a royalty, I guess¡­ ¡°But it really isn¡¯t very extravagant. The potatoes are prepared in oil, after which you season them with spices. It really isn¡¯t anything special.¡± ¡°So it true then. You really are...¡± She cut off in the middle of a sentence. ¡°Your Highness?¡± ¡°Then you really are the Cuisinier?¡± she asked. ¡°I am sorry, Your Highness, but I do not understand,¡± I bow my head once again. ¡°The princess is asking whether you are the one who made it,¡± Renig explained. ¡°Ah...¡± Somehow, looking back to it, that was stupid of me. How did I not see this question coming? Surely they would want to know who prepared the dish they were eating.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Can I just say that it wasn¡¯t me who prepared it? That could turn out troublesome¡­ Either way, what¡¯s the worse that could happen? ¡°I cook a little, though I am certainly not very good at it, Your Highness,¡± I respond humbly. ¡°You should not be so modest, the dish really is phenomenal,¡± she said after eating another piece. This is probably for the best, since that was my plan in the first place - to gain favor. If she thinks that I¡¯m the one who made the food, not just the one who gave it to her, she would be even more grateful. Having a royalty indebted to you could prove to be invaluable. ¡°You must cook this for me again some time!¡± the princess exclaimed suddenly. ¡°Ah¡­ I would be honored¡­¡± ¡°Truly phenomenal. Wouldn¡¯t you say, Sir Renig?¡± ¡°Y, Yes, Your Highness.¡± ¡°Such a variety of flavor with a single bite,¡± she happily eats another bit. The princess really seems to enjoy it, which works out great for me. Assuming we survive this endeavor, I will be the one who gave food to a royalty when she needed it the most. No, what am I thinking? Gaining favors and climbing the ladder shouldn¡¯t be my goal here. For one thing, I am still not quite convinced this isn¡¯t some sort of a prank. For another, even if I was transported to another world, my goal should be to find my way back, not to get close to the princess! I should leave such things to those who don¡¯t have a life to come back to and actually got an overpowered ability to rely upon¡­ I don''t belong here. ¡°That must be it,¡± the princess said after eating a fair share of chips. ¡°You must be a cook traveling with your master when your ship crashed. Does that sound right? Do you remember anything like that?¡± ¡°These shores are frequented by Lord Danbas¡¯ ships.¡± ¡°Lord Danbas, you say. How about it, Sir Cuisinier? Does hearing the name Danbas brings back any memories?¡± ¡°My apologies, Your Highness...¡± ¡°You do not have to apologise for not being able to remember...¡± ¡°Commander!¡± a voice rang from the entrance. Three pairs of eyes shifted in that direction to see Jerome breathing unsteadily. ¡°Report,¡± Renig demanded immediately. ¡°Commander, it¡¯s the Germanian forces. They are retreating.¡± ¡°Do we know who is pushing them back?¡± ¡°It¡¯s hard to say for sure...¡± Jerome hesitated for a moment. Being sent out to watch the perimeter for any approaching parties you couldn¡¯t expect Jerome to actually have this kind of information. Being so short on manpower all the princess¡¯ guard could afford was to sit quietly and hope not to get found. What talk could there be of reconnaissance¡­ Renig knew that as well as anyone else. ¡°It was hard to see from that distance, but if I may speculate,¡± Jerome said carefully. ¡°What did you see?¡± Speculation isn¡¯t something to rely upon in the military matters, but during situations like these you have to take all that you can get. ¡°I saw banners with a golden lion¡¯s head on them,¡± Jerome reported. ¡°The King¡¯s banner?!¡± ¡°It¡¯s the only deep purple banner in the whole Kingdom, I am certain my eyes did not fool me.¡± ¡°But why would my father¡¯s knights would be here?¡± the princess uttered. ¡°Could it be the His Majesty the King knew this was a trap all along?¡± Renig thought out loud. Isn¡¯t that a bit of a bold statement? That almost sounds like he¡¯s implying that the King knew all along his daughter was going into the trap? ¡°No¡­ It would be just like my father to try and solve everything with force,¡± her sad voice made everyone turn. ¡°He did not send the knights to rescue me. He did not send the knights to support me, to stand by me either. That is because he never acknowledged the negotiations in the first place.¡± ¡°Your Majesty...¡± Jerome wanted to say something, but it¡¯s like the words never came. ¡°And the only reason why he waited this long to attack, was because his impudent child kept interfering with her naive talks of peace...¡± The cave fell into chilling silence once more. No one dared to move, it seemed even the wind stopped blowing. The silence was almost unbearable. ¡°Oh, it seems you were right as always, Sir Renig,¡± the princess smiled, but her eyes looked dead and emotionless. ¡°There will be war after all.¡± ¡°Your Highness...¡± Renig began. ¡°Your Highness!¡± Instead, Albert ran into the cave. His greasy black hair sticking to the sweaty forehead almost blocked his pale face. Before he could say anything else, clatter behind his back intensified and a brigade of knights bursted in. As if storming the den, they took their positions at both sides making a path. ¡°Princess Frederica Maria de Jarenbourg,¡± a smug voice rung out from the entry. A large man, wearing a full body armor, walked towards the princess, pushing slender Albert as if he wasn¡¯t even there. Looking from where I was standing, he must¡¯ve been at least 8 feet tall and he weigh easily over 500 pounds. Jerome who was a whale of a man by almost any standards paled in comparison, looking like an average person standing next to him. Renig stiffened and grasped the handle of his sword. And for a good reason. Needless to say, I have never been in a sword fight, not even in a regular fist fight for the past 10 years, and even I could feel the overwhelming hostility leaking from the uninvited knights. And yet shining on their chests, a deep purple banner, with a golden lion¡¯s head - insignia of the King. The symbol of her father''s royal knights. ¡°We have come to bring you back,¡± the large man said taking his helmet off. Underneath it were long brown hair covering his rough face. Now it could be just my inferior knowledge of how these things work acting up, but they are being disrespectful, aren¡¯t they? No matter that they are serving under the King himself, at the very least they should know better than to not introduce themselves. Not to mention the way they are addressing the princess¡­ ¡°You are Sir Kelbert, are you not?¡± she asked, just as though her royal pride never wavered. ¡°What does my father want with me?¡± Standing next to Renig I could almost hear the gears in his head turning. Surely he must be a skilled knight, and call it a suspension bridge effect if you will, but I¡¯m willing to bet that Jerome and Albert are extraordinary fighters as well. But even so, what he was thinking right now was suicidal, they couldn¡¯t beat 12 King¡¯s knights just by themselves¡­ Not even if that overgrown Kelbert wasn¡¯t around. ¡°We were ordered to take you back to the capital¡­ Safely.¡± ¡°I see. In which case let us not make my father wait any longer,¡± the princess said and stepped towards him. ¡°Hmpf,¡± pleased with himself, Kelbert grinned his teeth. Renig could only frown in response - the princess had made her choice. ¡°And who is this?¡± Needless to say Kelbert was a terrifying person. His overflowing confidence was something to be feared, not to mention his disproportionate size. Yet the moment he pointed his finger at me I froze in fear. He wasn¡¯t threatening me, in fact he was indifferent towards me, and yet¡­ I was shivering in horror unable to speak. You don¡¯t get to meet a real life Gregor Clegane every day. ¡°Ah, that. He is my personal chef!¡± the princess proclaimed. ¡­ ¡­ She couldn¡¯t be talking about me, could she? Chapter 7 ¡°The longer I live, the less I seem to know.¡± It¡¯s a somewhat well known quote where I come from. If my high-school history teacher wasn¡¯t lying to me and if my memory isn¡¯t playing tricks on me, the quote is credited to one John Adams, a freedom fighter, back from the days when calling United States ¡°united¡± was done with a fair share of sarcasm. It was a longer, more poetic and flowery quote in the beginning, but as it happens with these kind of things, this is what¡¯s left of it. The part that stuck. It¡¯s very fitting right now. As I¡¯m being led forward by the crowd surrounding me, I walk without a destination in mind. Rather the destination isn¡¯t up to me. On the upside, getting out of that damp cave really put things in perspective. For one thing, being surrounded by a thousand full body armor wearing knights, I consider a possibility of this not being a prank. Let¡¯s be honest here, I¡¯ve seen some dedicated pranksters, but recreating a medieval world for the sake of a prank, seems a bit far fetched. I¡¯m still not completely convinced of anything, but for now I choose to keep an open mind. Which brings me back to my initial point. The more I discover, the more confused I get. If this is real¡­ Too many questions rush to my head all at once. Only one of them stands out the most: Why me? Why did this had to happen to me?! I don¡¯t particularly stand out, I¡¯m not very outgoing, but I¡¯m not antisocial either. I¡¯m not good looking, nor am I bad looking. Average. Just plain average. So why the hell did this thing had to happen to me? I¡¯m not a NEET, nor am I an ¡®Otaku¡¯. Aren¡¯t those kind of people usually the ones to get transported to fantasy worlds? I don¡¯t need a power trip, nor am I starved for wish-fulfillment, so why me?! I have responsibilities back at home, you know! ¡°Aili, are you feeling well? Walking must be tiring in your condition,¡± I hear a familiar voice call out my name. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Sir Jerome, thank you for your concern.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to call me Sir, just Jerome is fine. Besides...¡± A large man walking next to me is princess¡¯ guard - Jerome van Bilderhog. Unlike the King¡¯s knights that came to our rescue, our foursome from the cave were walking on our feet. For one thing, their commander, Sir Kelbert, seemed to show hostility towards these knights. No matter how you look at it, forcing them to walk several miles to the campsite wasn¡¯t just tiring, it was humiliating. Needless to say, the princess was riding in a carriage specially prepared for her. Even if Kelbert didn¡¯t show royal respect towards her, he couldn¡¯t force a royalty walk and get away with it. ¡°Besides, I am not even a knight, so calling me ¡®Sir¡¯ is a bit much,¡± Jerome finished. His eyes jumped around and settled up ahead. This wasn¡¯t a pleasant topic for him. ¡°I didn¡¯t realise, my apologies,¡± I try to sound casual. ¡°Then, I shall call you Jerome.¡± ¡°That is the name that my mother gave me, and it¡¯s the greatest title a man can have,¡± Jerome cheered up a little and sent a little smile my way. Now that I think about it, the relationship between Jerome and the others didn¡¯t seem natural. He got along fine with Albert, there was some tension with Renig, but that probably has more to do with Renig just being Renig. But when it comes to the princess, not once did she look at Jerome. She seems to be an outgoing, kind young lady. She interacts properly with Renig, I even saw her engage in small talk with Albert. Not to mention she took care of me and had even shown interest in getting to know me. But when it comes to Jerome, not once did she look him in the eye. Was it because of his status? That¡¯s probably not it. For all she knew I could have been a commoner. There seems to be more to it. Like how Jerome refers to her ¡®Your Majesty¡¯. My knowledge when it comes to these kind of things is rather limited, but I¡¯m fairly certain ¡®Your Majesty¡¯ is what you would call a Queen. There really seems to be more things going on, but Jerome doesn¡¯t seem excited to talk about it. Not to mention the whole thing hardly concerns me. ¡°Then Jerome, where exactly are we going right now?¡± ¡°We are going to a small town called Calvenbosch, that is where princess¡¯ attendants are waiting for her return.¡± ¡°Did you separate while on the run from the Germanians?¡± ¡°Of course not. You wouldn¡¯t expect a princess to bring her maids to a negotiation. The entourage stayed behind in Calvenbosch, while the princess with her most elite guards proceeded to Turen.¡± ¡°So that¡¯s how it is...¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t actually think that the princess was traveling with just the three guards?¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Well...¡± ¡°Buahahahhaha!¡± Jerome laughed merrily at my misunderstanding making unfriendly eyes turn our way. ¡°So¡­ How far is this Calvenbosch?¡± flushed, I try to change the subject. ¡°About half a day away, I¡¯d say.¡± ¡°H, half a day?!¡± ¡°Yes, pretty lucky that it¡¯s so close.¡± Of course he would think half a day on your feet is ¡°close¡±. But for someone who spends all day every day sitting down it might as well be suicide. We¡¯ve been walking for a couple of hours and I can barely move my legs as it is¡­ If they consider half a day close, they wouldn¡¯t plan on getting there without resting? ¡°So you weren¡¯t fine after all...¡± Jerome concluded. ¡°You look like you are about to collapse. It¡¯s fine if you want to take a short break.¡± How can that be fine? Cust as he was saying that a couple of disdainful looks were thrown our way from the knight¡¯s riding the horses. Of course they¡¯d be looking down on my weakness, but asking them to stop because of me was a bit much¡­ Let¡¯s not forget that my goal here is to attract as little attention as possible. Though, guess I¡¯m failing pretty hard at that so far¡­ ¡°No, I can still walk...¡± I really don¡¯t want to attract the wrath of that Kelbert fellow. ¡°If you say so¡­ We will be stopping soon either way, even the horses need to rest once in awhile.¡± Having to rely on horse¡¯s endurance isn¡¯t something I would normally do though it seems I might have little choice this time around. But then again, it¡¯s not like a horse can go on for that long, right? ¡°That¡¯s right. I heard Her Majesty made you her personal cuisiner,¡± Jerome began, once we sat down for a rest. After about six hours of walking I couldn¡¯t feel my legs. At first they started aching, after that they went numb, but as we continued going the pain returned with interest and then, right before we stopped my legs became insensate again. ¡°Surely, I have to say. The potatoes that you have prepared were in fact exquisite,¡± Albert added. The four of us were sitting on a log at a side of the road. Or, rather, the three of them were, I, for one, lying stiffly on the ground, trying my best to regain the feeling in my legs. The rest of the King¡¯s knights were happily snacking on dried meat and bread they were carrying. Needless to say, they weren¡¯t going to share their food with us, leaving us to share a sack of water. On the upside, at least I was feeling horrible enough to not feel hunger. ¡°Ah... ¡± That¡¯s right¡­ By some means my life, that became crazy enough as it was, managed to take another turn for the weird. I somehow managed to be named a personal chef for a princess. Not only am I failing to figure out the situation I am in, my plan to stay out of sight isn¡¯t working so well either. ¡°That seems to be the case...¡± I answer, hopefully not looking too depressed. ¡°Don¡¯t get too full of yourself, drowner¡± Renig¡¯s stern voice shoots me down immediately. ¡°Surely he may feel proud, commander. Being named personal cuisiner to Her Highness is a big honor.¡± Albert defends me. There¡¯s no way I was looking happy while saying that and I most definitely wasn¡¯t feeling happy. ¡°Let me tell you just one thing, drowner,¡± Renig stares straight at me with a piercing look. ¡°You better be as good as you think you are. Or else it¡¯s your head that¡¯s going to roll.¡± ¡°That¡¯s true. The princess is very fastidious when it comes to food.¡± ¡°How many cuisiners have she dismissed already? It has to be at least twenty this year alone...¡± ¡°None of them had their heads cut off. Not for the lack of effort on the princess¡¯ part, though.¡± ¡°That¡¯s only because that chef was the King¡¯s personal cuisiner. If he wasn¡¯t, surely his son would be anorphan by now.¡± ¡°That being said, it is odd for the princess to pick a cuisiner for herself. It¡¯s like she had lost all hope to find someone who could suit her tastes.¡± ¡°And that is why you better be thankful, drowner. It is an immeasurable honor to be chosen personally by the princess herself to cook her meals, so you better know what you are doing, for your own good. Though if it were up to me, I would have left you on the beach...¡± ¡°So¡­ The princess really is a picky eater, huh?¡± Ignoring the tightness in my stomach, I finally muster a few words together. ¡°Picky?¡± Jerome considers it for a moment. ¡°I would not say so. Rather, her tastes are refined. Do not forget, Her Majesty is the first princess, the daughter of the King. Her meals are cooked by the best cuisiners in the land, she tasted all of the most delicious meals this world has to offer. That is why her finding a dish that she hasn¡¯t tasted yet is so unexpected. Or rather, it is more unexpected that a cuisiner as talented as you and a dish as appetizing as your potatoes managed to escape the sights of the royal palace...¡± ¡°And to think that it was something as simple as potatoes...¡± a soft, dreamy voice sounded from a side. ¡°Your Majesty!¡± Jerome jumped up immediately. In fact, everyone around us was standing up, the only ones who remained seated until now were only Jerome and myself, even though ¡°sitting¡± might be a bit too generous to describe my position. Just like Jerome was all too excited to share his knowledge about the princess, I was too overwhelmed about the shocking revelations, to actually notice the approaching princess. Everyone else, including the King¡¯s knights, were standing up, paying their respects to a member of a royal family. Even though our rescuers were less than welcoming to us, they couldn¡¯t ignore the presence of a princess. As a matter of fact, the way things were, I was the only one still seated. Again, slugging like a spineless worm might be a better description, but let¡¯s stick to ¡°sitting¡± for now. ¡°Your Highness,¡± I stood up and bowed as gracefully as my shaking legs would let me. Which is to say not very... Now that I think of it, I have probably bowed more times in the past 24 hours than in my entire life before today. ¡°It is true, I have never tasted quite anything like that before,¡± the princess said happily. ¡°It was said many times already, but it is nothing like the food you can get in the palace. It truly must be faith, that we have met, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡± ¡°Of course, Your Highness. I am immensely humbled by the opportunity, even though I am really not worthy...¡± Unless opening a bag of chips was considered an achievement here, I really wasn¡¯t worthy. ¡°Nonsense. I had chosen you myself, are you saying that I lack in judgement?¡± the smile on her face was as bright as it was before. Was she being serious or was she just joking around? I really couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°... Of course not.¡± ¡°Of course not. Then, would you accompany me in my carriage?¡± ¡°It would be my honor,¡± a bit surprised I managed a response. The invitation was of course a masterfully crafted order, so I had no way of refusing. Not that I would anyway. If I get lucky, I could get invited to spend the rest of the journey in the carriage, which would mean less walking for me. ¡°There is no need to accompany us, Sir Renig. We can find the way ourselves,¡± she shut him down immediately. Clearly not wanting to leave the princess alone with me, he prepared to go with, before he got told not to. Looking severely unhappy, Renig sent a look my way that was clearer than any words he could¡¯ve said. "As you please, Your Highness," he agreed respectfully, sending another shiver down my spine. Chapter 8 As we, the Princess and I, that is, were walking towards the carriage and away from her knights, I couldn''t help but notice my legs shaking excessively. For one thing, today I''ve walked a distance comparable to that I''ve accumulated in the past ten years combined. Not to mention right before that, I apparently died. So there''s that. Another thing was the terrifying look Renig was sending my way. Chilled to the bone I was walking away with dozens of eyes on me. My hope right now was that I''ve managed to keep my face unfazed, it would be too troublesome if he were to find out that I was actually intimidated by him. And it¡¯s not like there¡¯s nothing to be scared of, the man was twice my size and trained in a subtle art of cutting people¡¯s heads off. As I followed the princess she remained silent until there was some distance between the two of us and her knights. ¡°There¡¯s something I would like to hear your opinion on,¡± she began while we were walking under the close gaze of King¡¯s knights. ¡°I hope I can be of use to you...¡± I said, before realising. ¡°Your Highness.¡± ¡°I have no doubt that you will be, in fact, very useful,¡± she wasn¡¯t smiling anymore. Instead, a certain glimmer appeared in her eye. ¡°You see, Sir cuisiner, I have been looking for something. For a really long time I was looking, to no avail. Surely, at some point I had lost all hope. Would you care to guess what was it that I was looking for?¡± ¡°Waldo?¡± ¡°I was looking for you!¡± ¡°Me?¡± I asked dumbly, genuinely surprised. ¡°Well, at the very least I hope so. See, what I was looking for was what you represent.¡± ¡°Your Highness, do you mean food?¡± ¡°Of course. For a royalty, a good cuisiner isn¡¯t just a big source of pride, it¡¯s also a necessity. It¡¯s only natural for a princess to have the best cuisiner, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡± ¡°I couldn''t possibly know, but it must be as you say...¡± I say that, but by the looks of it, she isn¡¯t being exactly forthcoming with me. Not like I can do anything about it if she doesn¡¯t want to tell me. Not like I could help her even if she did¡­ ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be shameful if some noble woman or a baroness had a better cuisiner than the princess herself? Surely, you must understand the predicament that I am in.¡± The two knights posted at the entrance of the carriage saluted the princess and opened the door letting us in. After that, they discretely stepped further away, leaving the two of us alone. The carriage itself, white and splendid on the outside, was even more breathtaking on the inside. It was very spacious, even with a big round table in the middle. Unlike the other carriages I¡¯ve seen today, the seats here were soft and luxurious, their sides decorated with gold. Even though the weather outside was damp and cloudy, it wasn¡¯t dark inside the carriage. The light that was coming in through the window landed straight on a large painting on the front wall. The picture was of a man riding a horse and raising his sword above his head. Considering his extravagant attire, it wouldn¡¯t be a longshot to assume the man was a member of a royal family. Maybe the King himself? ¡°Please, get yourself comfortable,¡± the princess sat down and invited me to join her at the opposite end of a table. After spending some time in this world I already got used to dealing with other people, even the princess, if I may say so myself, so I wasn¡¯t as nervous as I probably should have been. I am in a presence of a royalty, even if it is of a country that I have never heard of. ¡°I have already told you that I wanted to hear your opinion on something, Sir cuisiner,¡± she continued once I sat down. ¡°See, what I have said before is only a part of the truth. It is important for a princess to have a capable cuisiner, but that is not what drove me on my pursuit for the greater pleasure that is food.¡± As she continued speaking, she started taking out things from a bag and putting them on the table in front of us. ¡°The truth is, that I am fascinated by the art of food making. Surely you of all people must understand what I mean.¡± ¡°I believe I do, Your Highness.¡± That wasn¡¯t exactly a lie. The passion for food may not be burning inside of me, but I surely can understand the greatness behind it. Delicious food is one of the greatest and most affordable pleasures for a man. My tastes aren¡¯t refined by any means, but I surely can appreciate an appetizing meal. I guess that qualifies. ¡°For so long I was looking for a suitable cuisiner who would understand my needs and whose skills could match them. That is why I was so surprised after tasting your potatoes. At first I thought it was because I hadn¡¯t eaten anything for a long time, but the longer I snacked on them, the more I come to realise how exquisite the dish actually was. Surely, it must be fate, was what I thought. I believe I have found my cuisiner.¡± ¡°You do?¡± ¡°Of course. I really believe that you are the one for me,¡± she looked right at me and smiled widely. ¡°But that is not why I brought you here.¡± As she was saying that, she removed the napkins from the contents of the bag, that she previously lined up on the table. What was in front of me wasn¡¯t really surprising, considering the circumstances. ¡°What I would like for you to do, is simply tell me what you think of this.¡± After marching who knows how many miles I found myself not really caring about the things that surrounded me. I had some water to calm my parched throat and for a time being that was enough. However, now that I was comfortably sitting in a warm and cozy carriage, I finally realised how hungry I actually was. Thankfully, there was a table covered in food in front of me. ¡°You want me to tell you what I think of this food, Your Highness?¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Yes, I want you to taste it and tell me what you think of it!¡± she repeated a bit irritated, but the smile on her face remained unchanged. The excitement on her face was almost visible. I took another look at all the food on the table. It wasn¡¯t necessarily ¡®pretty¡¯, just like you would expect food from a bag to be, but it had that certain look of quality fitting a royal princess. Even though it wasn¡¯t presented well, the food looked nothing short of delicious. And just like the princess, I had to consider if it wasn¡¯t just because I haven¡¯t eaten anything since yesterday. Even I could tell that the meats were of premium quality, juicy and well made, the smell of which could make a person faint of ecstasy. It wouldn¡¯t be a longshot to assume that all the products used were of prime quality. Needless to say, the food that was luring me in right now with its enchanting smells was prepared for the princess herself. ¡°Go on, try it,¡± the princess urged me. I lift my head to see princess look at me with a warm smile on her face. Feeling a bit relieved, I extend my hand and take a piece of smoked ham. Its aroma was out of this world¡­ The scent of the smoke wasn¡¯t too intense, but just enough to make you almost feel the taste before ever even put the ham in your mouth. The meat itself, however, looked a bit differently that I had expected. For one, the color of it wasn¡¯t bright red like I¡¯m used to, but rather light brown. Even so, it looked appetizing enough, so I did not mind. Thinking about it for a moment, this is a very unique experience. As someone who had lived his whole life in a metropolis in a twenty-first century, I had never tasted ¡®real¡¯ meat. So much so, that even the color threw me off at first. No dyes, no preservatives. I¡¯m about to do something I had never done before¡­ And that is tasting real, natural, homemade quality ham. ¡°And? What do you think, Sir cuisiner?¡± the princess inquired after I properly ate the piece of ham. A salty goodness, melting in your mouth. Soft, juicy meat, overwhelming your taste buds as you chew on it. A delightful aftertaste, leaving you wanting more. Was what I expected. But what I got instead might as well have been a complete opposite of that. The meat was hard, resilient and rubbery, chewing on it felt almost like a chore. The smoke, that previously smelled so delicious, made the meat taste bitter and the amount of salt on it almost made you shrivel. But more than that, it was tasteless. The meat itself had no taste whatsoever. Maybe it¡¯s just me? Maybe I got so used to preservatives and taste-enhancers that I can¡¯t savor the real thing anymore? That doesn¡¯t seem possible. More likely, the ham just wasn¡¯t very good. No, that¡¯s not possible either. It was made personally for the princess, it has to be the best ham in the nation. But then why wouldn¡¯t it taste good? ¡°It¡¯s¡­ Quite well made.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to hold yourself back. Go on, speak your mind, I will not take it personally,¡± she encouraged me. ¡°Well, quite frankly, Your Highness, it¡¯s not very good.¡± The smile on her face vanished the moment those words left my mouth. Now she was staring me down with and intense look in her eye. Another shiver went down my spine. ¡°Yes, I agree. This is why I took the measures that I did to find a suitable cuisiner. Someone, that could make it taste as pleasurable as it possibly can. Do you understand now, Sir cuisiner?¡± ¡°Yes, I believe I do.¡± ¡°Then, do you think that we had reached the peak of what food can really be?¡± ¡°Your Highness¡­ Yes, I believe so.¡± ¡°Ahh...¡± the look on her face immediately switched to that of shock, and then to that of disappointment. ¡°You really do? You actually think that¡¯s the pinnacle of cookery that we can achieve?¡± ¡°If it¡¯s not too much¡­ Then let me ask you something in return, Your Highness. Since when do you believe humans had started smoking meat?¡± ¡°I do not know for sure,¡± caught off guard by an unexpected question, princess hesitated for a moment. ¡°But I would guess for at least several hundred years.¡± ¡°And since when do they eat pork?¡± ¡°Even longer than that, I would presume...¡± ¡°Then what makes you think that after hundreds of years of perfecting the recipe, it can still be improved?..¡± I found myself completely carried away. My heart was beating intensely, rushing blood through my veins as if something had woken inside of me. ¡°Your Highness...¡± I remembered to add, finally. She pondered for a short while, looking as if she hadn¡¯t noticed my loss of control. While I was hoping to learn something more about this world from her answers, it proved to be less than helpful. The fact that they¡¯ve been smoking meats for ¡®hundreds of years¡¯ isn¡¯t really that useful. ¡°To tell you the truth, I really do not know¡­ I just have this feeling. That it can be better,¡± she finally said looking hesitant. Looking at her right now, I really couldn¡¯t help but feel sorry for her. Rather, feel sympathetic. I would really like to help her, the only problem is I can¡¯t. For one thing I don¡¯t have a slightest idea of how to smoke meat, more than that, I can¡¯t even figure out why that ham I just ate wasn¡¯t tasty. The taste in my mouth felt like I ate a coal straight from a campfire. That can¡¯t possibly be right. But even though I ate ham many, many times, and some of them were really phenomenal and the rest were at least ¡®good¡¯, I still had no idea what went wrong with this one. Too much smoke? Not enough seasoning? Surely the chefs would have figured out something this simple, there must be a deeper problem. Or at least deep enough for my jokingly small knowledge of meat smoking to be of no use. ¡°I¡¯m afraid things that have been around for hundreds of years don¡¯t just change overnight. The only thing to do here is to wait and hope.¡± ¡°But that is not true, is it?¡± ¡°How come, Your Highness?¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t it you, who invented a whole new way to cook potatoes?¡± I did say something like that, haven¡¯t I? ¡°And how long were the potatoes around, Your Highness?¡± ¡°Potatoes? Not as long as pork, of course, but for at least a hundred years, so your argument should still stand, no?¡± A hundred years, she says¡­ History was one of my strongest subjects back in high school, but even so all these years later some details escape me. Even so, potatoes came to Europe somewhere around the 15th or 16th century. If they were around for at least a hundred years, the current year is somewhere in the 1600s. Assuming that this world¡¯s history coincides with my own, that is. ¡°That is true and that is why I suggest you stay patient and wait. New recipes, improvements and new ways to cook will emerge sooner or later...¡± ¡°You should not be saying that!¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°You are a cuisiner, are you not? Don¡¯t you have any respect for your profession, or for yourself for that matter?¡± she asked angrily. ¡°Of course, that wasn¡¯t right of me. My apologies, Your High --¡± ¡°Please, stop!¡± she interrupted me abruptly. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear any more of your fake formalities! That is all I hear all the time¡­ For once, I want to hear the truth. I do not want you to apologize to me or to agree with me just because I¡¯m a princess! I want¡­ No, I need you be truthful with me.¡± Before my last girlfriend broke up with me, she said something that stuck with me. Something, that sounded a lot like the outburst I was hearing right now. Of course, the context was very different, but the base idea was the same. Am I really too obsessed with making others happy? Of course that wasn¡¯t it. I wasn¡¯t always agreeing with my girlfriend because I wanted to make her happy. It was just too much of a bother. Arguing, expressing your opinion, defending your choices out loud. All too much work. It¡¯s much easier to silently agree and move on with your life. And right now, even though I was being submissive for very different reasons, the conclusion that the two women came to was almost the same. ¡°Then what is it that you want me to tell you, Your Highness?¡± ¡°For now, I don¡¯t want you to say anything,¡± she looked serious, even angered. There was no trace of a friendly smile befitting a royalty. ¡°I just want to know that the man who will be preparing my food hasn¡¯t given up before he even started.¡± Given up, huh? Another flashback to my life before coming here¡­ ¡°And what if I have?..¡± ¡°Then, I guess, you will get to find out soon enough,¡± she said as coldly as I will ever hear her speak. A chill ran down my spine off her gaze. ¡°I will be expecting you to prepare my dinner tonight.¡± It seems once again I find myself in way over my head. Turns out, she wasn¡¯t joking at all. She really does expect me cook for her¡­ Not just that, she expects me to essentially blow her away with my superior cooking skills¡­ What. Shitty. Luck. Here¡¯s hoping they have insta-ramen in this world! Oh. Didn¡¯t someone say something about her ordering one of her previous chefs executed? Chapter 9 The air around me finally calmed down and I could inhale freely. Standing alone in a damp, dark room it finally hit me. A small fire was carefully dancing in the other end of the room, its warmth coming short to reach me. My body shook involuntarily. Mostly because I was cold and tired, but the reality crushing fast and hard on me did not help. My day just kept getting worse and worse until it seemingly couldn''t get any lower. I lived at that point right now. The worst of the worst. The lowest of the lowest. Just my kind of day. When we finally arrived to Calvenbosch, the princess was immediately surrounded by her attendants and they rushed off somewhere warmer in a buzzing cluster of handmaids. The rest of the journey was quiet and uneventful. We, the princess and I, rode in a bit of an awkward silence. The princess, I think, was a bit ashamed of losing control previously. As for myself, I was more concerned with my own well being than my reputation. Finally being able to sit down and relax in a warm carriage, my defenses let down a tad and my mind wondered off to the same place where it was wondering this whole time. And so we rode in silence. The moment our convoy entered town, the carriage became the center of attention. It was already dusk by the time we arrived, so there weren''t that many people in the street. Some waved, others looked in awe. Some child tried to run closer to get a better look, just to get reprimanded and scolded by his mother. All in all, it wasn''t as warm of a welcome as I would have expected for a royalty. When the carriage stopped at the highest point of the small town, the princess was nearly carried away by her sizable entourage, Jerome mumbled something about reporting before taking off and Renig with Albert disappeared, probably returning to their duty besides the princess. And so there I was, standing alone, surrounded by ominous men of King''s guard. At this point, I should probably be grateful they decided to ignore me. "Um, sir?" The voice that brought me back from my thoughts belonged to a little girl, no older than nine or ten years old. Her sunset-red hair was tied in a bun that stood out even in the darkness of the hour. What was more, she was intently staring right at me. "Me?" I had to make sure. "You must be the new cuisiner, sir." "So I''ve been told..."If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "The Queen wishes you to start preparing her dinner immediately," she said with a straight face. "The queen?" Before I could start despairing over the thought of the queen adding to the list of my troubles, I had to look at the little girl. She was desperately waving her hands, her face bright red. If I didn''t know any better, I would''ve thought she was trying to scare off a fly. "Aa........" she exclaimed. "Yes?" I teased her. "I-I meant the princess..." was all she managed to say. "Is that so," I tried my best to keep a mischievous smile from forming on my face. "Please, you can''t tell anyone," she said with tears flowing down her face, still waving her arms in embarrassment. "Siiiiir." "Oh? And what do I get out of it?" "Ah." She put her hand down the pocket of a small dress she was wearing, desperately looking for something she could trade for my silence. "I don''t have anything!" she cried out, tears rushing down her face like a waterfall. "Then," I started. "How about I will keep my mouth shut, but in exchange you promise not to call me ''sir'' anymore." For a moment she just stood there, staring at me dumbly. "Hmm," she finally said, casually stroking her chin with a finger, as if actually thinking over my offer. "I guess I could do that." "Then it''s a deal." "Really?!" "Yes?" "Oh, thank you, sir!" she shouted, a bit too excited, going from tears to happiness in seconds, the way only children can. "Argh! No! I mean..." "It''s fine, it''s fine." "Then... Thank you!" "You were saying?" "I was? Ah, yes! The princess wishes you start on her dinner immediately." The way she emphasized the word ''princess'' right now made me think this wasn''t the first time she made this silly mistake. And by the looks of it, not often did she get off the hook as easily as she did today. It may seem like a silly little mistake to make, but from what I''ve heard about the middleages, people were hanged for less. But then again, what do I know. This whole time I was shaking out of my shoes, stereotyping the people of this world, terrified I would be beheaded for a word spoken out of place. What if I was being overly dramatic? What if this was more of a happy go lucky kind of fantasy world you''d see in an anime, instead of a grim dark G.R.R.M.-esque fantasy world I expect it to be? One way or another, I would rather not have to find out with my own body. "Amazing!" the little girl exclaimed. "Uh? What is?" "I''ve never seen anyone who could prepare food with sheer will alone ever before! Truly amazing!" "No... Huh?" "Are you a wizard? Can you really make food without even moving? " "No. I''m afraid that''s not the case..." "Then you must be either very brave or very stupid. Still fascinating!" She wasn''t even teasing me. I was being mocked, plain and simple. The dumb look on my face must have been priceless, as the little girl laughed merrily. "... You know, I really wish you would go back to calling me ''sir''." Instead of an answer, she gifted me with a wide smile, showed me her tongue and ran off towards the nearest building, waiving me to follow. What a little troublemaker. "Will you help me prepare the food, then?" I asked after catching up to her. She was moving briskly from one doorway to another, as if she was living here her whole life. "Of course, of course," she offered. "But what do I get out of it?" The mischievous little minx. And here I was, thinking I was the one doing the teasing here. "So, what''s your name?" "Me? Call me Clem." Chapter 10 "And here are the kitchens . You will be working from here." After what felt like minutes of walking we finally reached our destination, in a form of a poorly lit, damp room. The only source of light (and slight warmth) was a furnace in the other end of the room. There were several large tables set up, for the preparation of the food, presumably. The kitchen was disproportionately large considering the small keep we were staying in. I was yet to see it, but it wouldn''t surprise me if the kitchen was at least as large as the megaron. At least thirty people could work in the kitchen at once, without stepping on each others toes. And now it was completely empty. Empty, dark and cold. The only thing that suggested the kitchen was still being used was the lack of a layer of dust on the tables. "Don''t just stand there, come in!" Being led by Clem left me completely out of breath. She was hastily moving from one hallway to another and after the day that I had, trying to keep up with her proved to be a challenge. The whole thing seemed even weirder considering that at some point I was sure we climbed the stairs to the second floor, but now we were on the ground floor again. Odd. "Did you bring your knives?" the girl asked me in a business like manner. "Which knives?" "The knives. Cuisiner''s knives. Your knives. Aren''t you supposed to have your own knives?" "No, I don''t have my knives with me..." "You can use the ones in the kitchen, then. But you can''t complain about them!" "Why would I--" "You shan''t complain about them!" Clem said, pouty. "Okay, I won''t, I won''t," I had to give in. In exchange she handed me a set of well-worn knives. I took one out of its holster and held in against dim firelight, mostly for show. An actual chef would be able to tell at a glance whether the knife was worth his time. As for me, I would be happy to escape this kitchen with all my fingers intact. Meanwhile Clem was staring me down, as if daring me to complain about the knife, still a bit pouty in the cheeks. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. "They''ll do," I said, mostly for show and adding a loud sigh. I can''t just accept a knife happily, can I? No self respecting chef would. "So, you had a chef here before me?" I changed the topic before she could say anything. "Chef?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "A cuisiner." "Of course, plenty." "Let me guess, they complained about the knives?" "Plenty," she said, pressing her lips together. I couldn''t help but lough out loud at that. "And you were assisting them?" "I had to," the girl answered staring blankly. I laughed again. "So, what will we be cooking?" suddenly, I felt relieved as if this whole thing could somehow work out. Just knowing that Clem had worked in a kitchen before, that she knew what she was doing made me relax a bit. Just enough to smile again, I guess. "Waaaait," she suddenly said, dragging the word out. "Shouldn''t you be the one telling me?" "How am I supposed to decide for the princess?" "No, wait," she put her finger on the chin again, thinking hard. "I got the wrong person, didn''t I? I was told to bring the cuisiner, but I brought a fool instead." "No, you... You got both." Can''t argue with the truth. "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?" "I am." "I can''t be wrong again. If the Queen finds out..." "You called her the queen again." "Nooooo!" the tears streamed down her cheeks again. "I''m willing to forget what I just heard..." I said, teasingly. "I know what you want," she said as innocently as she probably could. "But a real lady won''t do that kind of thing before marriage..." "T-that''s not what I want..." I said dropping my head. There''s just no winning against this child. "Where did you hear something like that in the first place?" "Women talk," she said simply, raising her shoulders. "So will you help me?" "Only if I must..." "That''s good enough for me," I happily clapped my hands together. It''s a small victory, but at this point I take what I can get. "Any idea what the princess likes?" "Hmm," she supported her chin with a finger again. "Chicken." Chicken? That''s a bit broad. But it''s better than nothing or, even worse, some French named dish I don''t understand. This is good. I can work with this. My only fault is that I didn''t actually try cooking one myself. Ever. "Should we make chicken, then?" "No." "What then?" "Potatoes." "Wh?.. What''s with you people and potatoes?" "Ever since the princess returned, she could only talk about your potatoes." That was certainly worse. Not only did I have absolutely zero idea on how to make potato chips, nothing I could ever make would be as good as Let''s chips. "Chicken it is then." "I was right about you being a fool after all. I''ve just said chicken is no good." "No, chicken is exactly what we need." Chicken is notoriously easy to make. Surely even a fool like me would be able to cook one. And more importantly, the plan was already forming in my mind. I may just live another day. "Clem, bring us the chicken." She gave a dramatically audible sigh before turning to leave. I guess she was excited to taste the infamous potatoes herself. "Um, make it two chickens." "Two? What are we going to do with two chickens?" "Oh, we''ll throw the first one away, of course." Chapter 11 I have decided not to ponder over the situation I have found myself in anymore. For the sake of my mental health, it was clearly the right choice. ''Obsessing over it and feeling sorry for yourself will not help you solve anything,'' was what I told myself. And yet in reality, staring down at my sticky hands, I couldn''t help but think about it. The room was still as dark as it was when I first entered it. Although the flames in the furnace were dancing happily, it was still a bit too dim for me to actually see anything more than a silhouette of my soggy fingers. Not like I didn''t know what I would see. "I''m sorry... I''m so, so sorry," weak words escaped my mouth. Not like there was anyone to hear me say it. Clem stormed off, mumbling something under her nose the moment she lay chickens on the table. Without saying anything, she left me to myself. Being alone for the first time in what felt like a really long time, was a bit confusing. On one hand being alone I could finally catch up on my thoughts. On the other, I still had work to do. All that stress accumulated while working towards a deadline, that was once such a strong motivator, felt almost like a joke right now. Being afraid of getting yelled at for missing a deadline was nothing compared to a threat of a guillotine. With Clem or not, there was a job that needed to be done. My fingers grasped a knife on the table. Still warm from the fresh blood, its handle felt right at home in my just as bloody palm. My hand gripped the knife tightly, as my eyes found the gory pulp on the table. The smell of blood was filling my nostrils and a taste in my mouth was that of metal. I felt my grip on the knife harden. If I wanted to survive, there was no other way. "I''m sorry mister chicken, but it''s time for you to go." Slaughtering a chicken isn''t something I had ever done before, but once my livelihood depended on it, it turned out to be surprisingly doable. It''s crazy, the things people would do to save their life. The only thing left was actually making something out of it. "Um, what are you doing?" asked Clem from the doorway, tilting her head. "Did you just apologize to a chicken?" "How much did you hear?" "We just heard you apologize to a chicken." "Right, right. And how many times did you hear me apologize?" "Once. Why? How many times did you apologize?" "Just once," I offered innocently. There''s no reason for her to know that I kept apologizing to the chicken for the past twenty-five minutes while trying to cut it up. "How weird. You must do this in the dark? Are you sure you know what you''re doing?" "No, I..." "Clem, who is this?" another voice asked. The voice belonged to another maid, the one that followed Clem in here. She was older than the little girl next to her, though not by much, probably around twenty years of age or so. But she had that air of confidence and know-how that the little girl lacked. By the looks of it, she could''ve been her superior. "That''s the cuisiner," Clem explained to her. "That''s not the cuisiner, isn''t he just some fool from the streets?" "That''s exactly what I''ve said!" "Then why did you bring him into the kitchens? Look what he did to that chicken!" "The Fool has completely ruined Queen''s chicken!" "Quick! This needs to be fixed! Send the boys to look for the cuisiner, he must be wondering somewhere. And get the girls in here, we must get started on the dinner. Hopefully we can still manage in time..."A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. It felt like the ground once again shifted from underneath my legs. One moment I was doing my best, trying not to cut off my finger, all while trying to cup up the chicken. And then - puff. A dozen of small feet came rushing in, all belonging to the maids not unlike Clem, albeit a bit older. "Clem, why is it so dark in here?" "Well, I went looking for you and I thought..." "You shouldn''t just assume things, the candles aren''t going to light themselves! No queen wants a forgetful maid, you know." The next moment the kitchen was alive, as if the dark, damp room I was just in never existed. Clem was going around lighting up the candles, the rest of the maids moved knowingly, without being told what to do they picked up their tasks. One of them came up to me, took away whatever was left of the chicken and sent a nasty look my way. I was left standing dumbly in the middle of the room, with confused look on my face and a bloody knife in my hand. This wasn''t working out at all. For a moment I actually hoped this could somehow happen. At one point it all lined up for me, the potato chips in the cave, the bacon in the carriage. The words that the princess had spoken. For a moment it all made sense to me. But just for a moment. Then, the reality kicked in and I was left standing with nothing to do. I was no cook, every single girl in the room could see that. I had a distinct idea of what to do, but no real skills to accomplish that. And yet there was no place for me to run. I could just stand there, playing the fool only for so long. It was do or die and I couldn''t rely on them to actually find a chef just wondering around. I had the plan and now was the time to implement it. "You, girlie, cut the chicken in bite sized pieces. No skin. Someone start peeling the damn potatoes! No, no, we don''t need carrots. Po-tay-toes! Boil ''em, mash ''em, stick ''em in a stew. Potatoes. Clem, what kinds of oil do we have?" I tried to channel my inner Ramsay Gordon. If these girls would respond to anything, it would be a completely arrogant jackass. A real chef, in other words. Hopefully hours upon hours of daytime tv did not go to waste on me and my impersonation would stand. "Who are you?" the girl that Clem brought, asked. "Me? I''m princess'' personal chef, bitch!" I take things too far sometimes. As soon as I''ve said it I came to regret it. "What?" a hard vein popped on her forehead. "And what''s ''chefe'', you overgrown ass person face?" "That''s fool talk for cuisiner," Clem never wasted an opportunity to call me a fool. "Also, what''s ''ass person face''?" the girl, whose face was red in rage, changed to a different kind of blush. "You know.. It''s... You! Yeah, that''s you - ass person face!" "That''s fairly accurate, actually," I made a deliberate pause. "I called you something I shouldn''t have. I didn''t mean it and I apologize. Also," I turned to the girl that took the chicken from me. "I didn''t mean to call you ''girlie'' either. I get a bit intense when I start cooking and I guess... I just say things that I don''t really mean." It was kind of weird. Standing there, face dirty from the day spent traveling, a bloody knife still in my hand. Trying to apologize. Being stared at by a handful of girls. "I know there is no real reason for you to trust me and definitely not to assist me, but..." "We have plenty of sunflower oil. We also have olive oil." I was startled. In my embarrassed state I somehow missed the little Clem. While I was looking for words, she walked behind me bringing a large container filled with oil and put it on the table. How this little girl managed to carry a container half her size and lift it to the table, I will never know. "Ah... Sunflower will do fine." "I figured." No words came to me. There were just no words that could describe my feelings. This girl that took every opportunity to mess with me, now was going out of her way to help me. If I wasn''t so dehydrated my eyes would probably be teary right now. Clem just smiled knowingly at me, and turned to her side. As if remembering what I was doing just now, I looked back to the kitchen expecting a bunch of shocked looks. But the one who was left shocked was I. Every single maid was hard at work, not paying any attention to me or Clem. More than that, they were doing exactly what I told them to. And I was going to give this heartfelt speech, convincing them to assist me in this endeavor. Turns out all it took was a no-no word and an assist from a child. Who knew. "Order me, Fool," Clem threw a pose, akin to a soldier saluting an officer. "Let''s poor that oil into a pot," I said and took an opportunity to casually walk closer to her. "And thank you," I added quietly, so that only she could hear. "Don''t thank me, Fool, I didn''t do anything. Besides," she said, before adding quietly. "I guess I called the princess ''Queen'' again, so." "Well, I appreciate it. And I will keep my mouth shut." "You better." "Oh, right. Don''t you need to call back the people looking for the cuisiner?" "No need, I never sent for them." "You didn''t?" Clem just looked at me like I was the biggest idiot in town. It''s like she was telling me with her look: ''The cuisiner is right here, why would I go out looking for one?'' It''s like she was saying ''I don''t doubt you''. She was saying I believe in you. The sad thing is, I never knew someone else''s trust in you could be such a heartwarming thing. Even if it was from a bratty child. No, the really sad part was, that all her trust was painfully misplaced. "I''m still a bit surprised it was this easy to convince the other maids to help," suddenly, I felt like changing the topic. "Fool. Most of them hate you. And I''m pretty sure Athena will try to choke you in your sleep tonight." "Then, why?.." "Fool," was all she said, half-smiling at me. "Because you chose to help me?.." "That''s only natural," and she looked at me as if I was an actual fool. "I am the head maid, after all." Chapter 12 As it turned out, I majorly underestimated the size of the megaron - it was nothing short of massive. At some point in the past these walls had seen all kinds of large gatherings, weddings, balls and dinners. In retrospect, it was almost as large as I imagined the Hogwarts dining hall to be. However right now the hall was empty. Or almost so. There was a single, large table on the dais at the farther end of the room. Sitting there, was the princess of Jarenbourg - Frederica Maria de Jarenbourg. Without stopping, I followed the group of maids who were carrying everything from utensils, to aperitif, to the main course. While they buzzed around the princess I found a spot at the side, waiting to present my dish when the time comes. Taking a moment to look around, I noticed that before I entered with the entourage of seven maids, there were only two other people with the princess in the whole room. One of them was an older, kind looking woman, I remembered her being one of the attendants who swooped the princess away once she arrived. She was standing next to the her right now, casually chatting. An unsuspecting (and surprisingly dense) observer might even confuse the pair to be mother and daughter. They had that kind of air around them - the lady was likely taking care of the princess since her birth. The other person in the room was Albert. He was standing at the back wall and keeping out of sight. Just like a good guard should. But then something peculiar happened. In hindsight, the clues were there all along and it shouldn''t have surprised anyone. But it still did. If up until that moment I was still keeping hope for this to be some sort misunderstanding, those hopes were shattered then and there. The princess''s pursuit after the culinary greatness was as real as anything else about her and she made it abundantly clear with a single sentence. "I will be skipping the appetizer today," she announced to the great shock of the maids. "As well as the soup. We will be starting with the main course." The maids froze in complete silence, some shocked, others dumbfounded. Most of them, at least. "But princess," one of the maids began. My self-proclaimed archnemesis, the one named after a Greek Goddess. "It''s your favorite pumpkin soup. I''ve prepared it myself..." "Not tonight," was all she said.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "But..." Athena raised her eyes to look at me, the source of her concern clear as day. The princess raised her hand for the maid to stay quiet, while the bowl with the main course was put in front of her. That was my cue and I stepped forward. I raised the lid off the bowl and presented the dish to the princess. I had to put the lid down, it made it too easy to see how hard my hands were shaking. "Well that is disappointing," the princess said to the chicken. "I thought I made it clear I was expecting some more of those potatoes." Tsk, I heard a tongue click and turned to Clem just in time to see a ''told you so'' expression on her face. "I thought you would, Your Highness," I said innocently, bowing slightly. "But Athena insisted we should make chicken instead." "She did?" "I did?!" Athena jumped up. Pffft, Clem snickered. At the edge of my vision I could see her slamming her mouth shut with the palm of her hand, just to keep herself from giggling. "In which case I shall keep her accountable if the chicken is not to my liking," the princess said casually. "You will?!" something in between terror and deep confusion was on Athena''s face. Clem could only slam her mouth with another hand not to burst out laughing, her face dyed bright red. "I jest, of course," the princess said, with a slight smile on her face. "Of course, my princess," was all she could muster with tears streaming down her face. While I put a piece of chicken onto a plate and instructed the princess on the proper way of eating it, she raised her eyes to Athena. "But I must say I am surprised. You are not usually so quick to trust people," she began. "You have quite a lot of faith in my new cuisiner, do you not?" "No, that is definitely not the case," a quick response, with terror returning to her face. "Sir Cuisiner," the moment princess addressed me, Athena''s eyes jumped to me, her silky black moving from the motion of her head. "Say, are you married?" "No I''m not, Your Highness," not really fazed by the question. The princess sent Athena a knowing look, smiling slightly, her intention clear to all but one. The only way she could''ve been more obvious if she tried to "wink wink" to her maid. The maid in question, however, was still confused at the sudden change in topic. The question that failed to rattle me, be that as it may, had pretty much an opposite effect on Athena, who seemingly couldn''t find a single "safe" spot to look at in the whole room. She tried looking at her maids for help, but all she got in exchange was a bunch of blushing girls, some for a different reason than others - not all of them had to sink their teeth in the forearm just to keep from laughing. Just one, in fact. Even the old attendant seemed somewhat intrigued, in a giggly school-girl kind of way. "I have to say, Sir Cuisiner, this chicken sure looks odd," the princess said, concentrating her attention on the dish in front of her. "Once again, I can say with confidence this is not like anything I have ever seen. I am most certainly captivated. The sheer thought of tasting something as good once again..." But before she could finish her thought or Athena could say anything, the princess took a crispy and tender chicken thigh with her hand, putting the whole room to crushing silence. I held my breath as her teeth sank into the meat. Chapter 13 "Are you sure you are doing this right?" No, of course I wasn''t sure. At some point we all had started to lose confidence. The first ones to go were most of the maids, not like they had a lot of faith in me in the first place. I think deep down they were intrigued by the infamous potatoes, just enough to suspense their disbelief even after seeing me at work. Then, to my huge disappointment (mostly in myself) was Clem. She, who was so supportive of me at first, had now lost all faith in me as well. Athena, on the other hand, had none of it - she had no expectations of me to begin with. Somewhat ironically, that was the one thing we had in common. The worst part was, that we barely even started cooking. It took as little as putting a pot filled with oil above the fireplace for most of the maids to jump ship. At that point Clem graced me with the benefit of the doubt, before asking: "So what are we going to do once the oil boils?" Once I told them that we will cook the chicken in it, I had lost Clem. Overall it took us less than two minutes to end up exactly where we started. Athena, while staying away, had an evil grin on her face - she was all too happy to see me fail. And fail I would, in her eyes, the moment I poured that oil into a pot I might as well have announced publicly I was mentally ill. It wasn''t all bad though. It was great even, or as good as I could''ve ever hoped. See, for someone who couldn''t cook to save his life (literally, in this case) the only option was to find something else than just his skills to rely on. If I couldn''t enthrall the princess with my superior cooking ability, my best bet was to get her with the uniqueness and originality of it. For a brief moment it all lined up in my head: the princess''s overzealous interest in the potato chips, her crusade for better food, the unimaginative dishes I had seen in this world, as well as my own place in all this. And so a plan was made - a crude, poorly supported, shot-in-a-dark kind of plan.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. It relied upon a single variable - whatever I would come up with had to be new and never before done in this world. Whatever I would make wouldn''t be good, it wouldn''t be quality food in almost any sense of the word, but it would be unique and unexpected, and in its own way tasty. The realization that deep-frying was yet to be discovered in this world meant that I lucked out big time. The possibilities were endless, the one thing left to do was making it a reality. That, and hoping that mediocre food with original flavor would be enough to get on her good side. But while I had a general idea of how to deep fry a chicken, there was still something very important left to do and I didn''t have a slightest idea on where to start. Something that I couldn''t do myself, not if I wanted for it to be good. And I needed it to be excellent. "What is it?!" she asked, chopping probably a bit too hard, as the other half of the onion she was cutting flew off the table. "I think we''ve started on the wrong foot," after she failed to give any kind of response I continued. "Your name is Athena, isn''t it? Clem speaks very highly of you." "I doubt that," she said, smacking her knife once again. It wasn''t flattery or small talk, though. When I asked Clem who was the best cook of them all, she pointed at Athena without even hesitating. The little maid recognized her as a superior cook, even if she didn''t particularly like it. "I need your help," I went straight to the point. "Bah!" "It''s not like you''re doing anything else." It was clear she was keen on completely ignoring me, so I had to take certain risks in the way I approached her. Thankfully, she took the bait. "I''m not doing nothing. I''m making soup, which happens to be her favorite." "Pumpkin?" "How very astute of you to notice." A statement was clearly meant as an insult. There was a cut open pumpkin next to her on the table, not to mention the pumpkin was clearly recognizable in the pot. "So about you helping me..." "That''s not going to happen." "Is that because you don''t want me to find out how bad your cooking tastes?" "Listen here, you weird person with an overgrown nose on your face --" "You really aren''t great at insults, are you?" "Some of us had to work a lot to get where we are right now. I''ve been giving it my all, my whole life, just to improve, to become a cuisiner worthy to serve the princess!" she stopped, trying to calm herself. But before she did, I thought I noticed something - just a smallest trace of tears at the edge of her eye. "Not everyone gets to just walk in and announce themselves the new cuisiner..." It felt like one of those moments you see on television. She opens up, just a little bit. We stand there for a while, sharing the silence. Our eyes might meet and something special would happen. We would share that moment together, just with each other. And after the moment was over, we would understand each other a bit better. But alas, I did not have the time for that right now. "Very well," I said. "Let''s have a cook off, then." Chapter 14 "What''s a cook off?" It took her a moment to gather her composure, but once she did, she asked unsure. "It''s a competition to showcase our skills. We both prepare a certain dish and the one who does it better - wins." "And how do we decide which one is better?" I pretended to think for a moment, just long enough to really sell it. "Then, how about you decide that?" "Decide what?" "Decide which one of us is a better cook." "What?" she asked, her interest peaked. "I can''t both compete and judge!" "Of course you can," I said simply. "Besides, you are not going to believe whatever someone else tells you, you''ll need to make sure of it yourself. And I trust you to judge fairly." At this point all of the maids in the room were listening to our conversation. I''m not sure how familiar they were with cook offs in this world, but something had managed to capture their attention. "You want me to decide, which one of us is a better cuisiner?" "That''s right. We both cook something, we both taste it and you decide which one is better." She eyed me suspiciously for a while. I successfully managed to catch her attention. "Fine, I will accept your challenge," she announced, to audible awes from the maids. "When shall it commence?"If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "How about during the Queen''s festival?" suggested one of the maids. "That''s in two weeks time." "Or we could just do it now," I said, putting the room to silence. "What do you mean now?" Athena asked, dumbfounded. "Why not? We have the time," we absolutely did not have the time. But I needed to make some sacrifices if I wanted her help. "You wouldn''t happen to be afraid, would you?" "Fine," she said, pressing her lips together so hard they turned white. "What kind of dish will we be making?" "Oh, it really doesn''t matter," I said, trying to sound both confident and unsure at the same time. "How about, oh I don''t know... Sauce?" "Sauce? Why sauce?" "Sauce?" the murmur echoed through the room. "We can make something else, if you can''t make sauce..." "No. Sauce will be fine." It seems she was hard set on beating me at my own game. All the better for me. "Then if I may suggest," I put the cherry on top of this cake. "A sauce that would go nicely with fried chicken. And the winner''s sauce will be served tonight for the princess." Hook, line and sinker, she was in. The moment I mentioned princess''s dinner she forgot all else and threw the caution out the window. Whatever doubt she still had about my offer a moment ago wasn''t there anymore. The only thing on her mind was beating me and getting her sauce in front of the princess. She would make the best sauce she had ever made today or she would die trying. The rest of the maids acknowledged the challenge and now were discussing it among one another. "Back to work, girls," Clem reminded them. The girls went back to their stations, but continued glancing at Athena, who was now passionately doing her thing. None of them paid much attention to me, as far as they were concerned I had already lost. Not only did a fool who was boiling oil had no chance of winning against Athena, he had stupidly handed her the right to chose the winner. Everyone who knew her for longer than two hours knew how competitive she was and how much she hated losing. There was no way in hell she would ever admit that she had lost. The winner was already clear, but it did not make the spectacle of it any less interesting for them. "Do you know what you are doing, Fool?" Clem asked me. "Not since the eighth grade." The oil was almost ready to boil, which meant I needed start the culinary magic. Chapter 15 The name of the game now was ''to fill in the blanks''. I had a clear vision of the end goal, the dish I wanted to cook. I knew the base ingredients as well as a general idea of how to prepare them. I deliberately chose an easy to make dish for this exact reason. Even though I haven''t cooked anything myself in years, it wasn''t like I''ve never been to a kitchen. I''ve seen my ex-girlfriend cook many times and my mother before that, as well as my grandmother. Even my father would cook to us sometimes, before he... Well, that''s beside the point now. I''ve felt like I had a solid grasp on the theory of how to prepare the dish. I ate it dozens, hundreds of times, hopefully enough to know exactly what to aim for. The last and the important part was filling in the blanks. I wasn''t so naive as to think that seeing someone else cook and eating something myself would make me at least a half-decent cook, mind you. Hopefully, I''ve prepared for that. I''ve read it in some book, some phrase, although the exact quote escapes me, its meaning stuck. It went something like ''prepare to throw one away''. Anyone who has ever done sports has probably heard of Gladwell and his ten-thousand hours theory. The idea behind it, the one that coach would slam into you, was that you would master something after doing it for ten-thousand hours. Throw a ball for ten-thousand hours and you''ll master it. Play a video game for ten-thousand hours and you''ll master it. The theory could be applied to anything, even cooking. A completely incompetent buffoon, such as I was, could master anything after ten-thousand hours. Needless to say, I did not have an hour to spare, not to mention a thousand. The best I could do was one chicken. I''ve anticipated that it was impossible for my first attempt to be successful, so I''ve prepared to ''throw the first one away''. "What will you do with it?" Without my noticing, Clem had brought a chair right next to me and was now standing on top of it, looking over my shoulder. Figuratively speaking, mind you, even standing on a stool she wasn''t tall enough to actually look over my shoulder. But that reminded me - Clem was experienced in the matters of the kitchen. The things that I did not know, the things that I could not know, she just might. When it comes to cooking, some things you just have to learn on your own. Sometimes you just have to try and try again until you succeed, until you find the right way to do it. Like the issue that I was currently facing - anyone who has ever fried anything would probably find my problem laughable. And trying to find the right way would only waste time, which I did not have. "Are you interested in cooking?" I try to sound casual. "I don''t mind it."Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! "Are you saying you''re not very good at it?" "No, I''m pretty good." As expected, Clem wasn''t Athena and I couldn''t bait her this easily. "Then which would you dip the chicken into - the egg whites or the yolk?" I pointed at the two bowls in front of me. It seemed to work, because she suddenly looked curious. "Why not both?" And really, why not both? I asked the girls to separate the two, but I didn''t know yet which one I wanted to actually use. beating them together was still an option, but based on absolutely nothing but my guess, I decided that it was best to dip the chicken into only one of them. Which, I had no idea. "Let me give you a hint," I offered. "After we dip the chicken into the egg, we will be rolling that chicken in flour till it''s completely covered, so what we want, is for the flour to stick real good to the meat." The difference may seen minimal here, but this minuscule difference between egg yolk and whites could ruin the whole dish. What was the point of seasoning, if it wouldn''t stick to the chicken? Or if it would fall off in the oil? My anxiety was intensifying. Just minutes before I had the whole thing planned, now every little detail seemed an insurmountable mountain. "Hmm," she put her finger on her chin again, thinking for a while. "But that can be either of them, no?" This wasn''t working out as well as I hoped. It was going pretty poorly in general. "I guess you need to think about it some more..." Was what I''ve said, but in reality I had another pressing issue. Hoping that Clem will take care of the egg problem for me, I moved on to the seasoning, leaving her to ponder over the two egg bowls. As far as a buffoon would be concerned, seasoning was the most important part of this dish. And as far as I could tell, that buffoon was completely right. I took the bowl with flour in it. This was the most important and dish defining part. Too much salt and it''s ruined. Not enough and it''s tasteless. Everything had to be just right and that required the amounts of confidence I did not currently possess. I opened the princess''s personal stash of spices. It was grudgingly handed by Athena to Clem, who casually passed it on to me. Clearly good spices were still a rare and expensive commodity. I started checking and adding different spices to the flour, first the ones I recognized, then I relied on my nose to chose the rest of them. Paprika. Chili powder. Black pepper, but just a pinch. Salt. Careful not to add too much. The rest I improvised. I added spices I''ve never actually heard of before or at least never paid enough attention to - basil, thyme, oregano, mustard, turmeric. I had no idea how all of them would mix together, but individually I''ve liked each and every one of them enough to risk my life on it. Not like I had much choice. "Um, excuse me," I approached a maid that was cleaning garlic next to me. She looked back at me sharply, so much so it almost pierced me, but seeing I was still alive, I took it as an invitation to continue. "Do you think I could take some of ypur garlic?" She kept staring me down in silence. It took me probably longer than I''d like to admit to realize she wasn''t going to reply. When I finally did, I extended my arm trying to take few of the garlic pieces. At the end of it, while I was hastily walking away with my garlic, I was counting my blessings to leave with all my fingers intact. While I was reaching for garlic, I''ve figured it all out. We''ll rub the garlic on chicken, then we''ll dip it into egg. Half of it to egg whites, the other half to yolk and find out which one works better the hard way. We''ll cover the chicken with my seasoned flour and dip the chicken into boiling oil and cook it for as long as we feel is right. And that was it. Chicken, garlic, egg, seasoned flour, fried in oil. Easy as pie. This would work, I was sure of it. Not even a buffoon could mess this one up. Chapter 16 The moment her teeth sank into the meat my heart stopped. On the outside the chicken was light brown and looked like it was covered in something. That something was crunchy and just a bit spicy, but the meat under it was sweet and tender. It wasn''t nearly as good as the ones you could get in a bucket for $3, but for better of for worse, mine wasn''t the opinion that mattered. While the princess was chewing her chicken leg, I found myself staring at her without blinking. For a while she seemed like she might have been enjoying the food, but then constrained herself. "It is..." she began. "Not very good." My heart sank. I''ve prepared for that to happen and yet I was still caught off guard once it did. "No," I''ve heard a voice rung out. My voice. "Excuse me?" "Um..." To my massive terror, just for a moment I''ve lost control and said something I probably shouldn''t have. "No, I mean, it''s not very good," I tried to look for the right words, but they were not coming. "You are completely right."Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. What was I saying?! Did I secretly have a death wish or something? Even though it felt like half a year, it was less than a day since I was appointed a head chef. What was worse, it felt like I''ve dedicated half of my life to becoming one. Of course that wasn''t true. But failing just now, even though I most definitely deserved it, felt horrible. There was still something to do here. "Please," I offered a makeshift saucer we''ve prepared before hand. "Try it with the sauce." I saw confusion flash in her eyes, so I added: "It''s a dipping sauce." "A dipping sauce?" "Yes. It means that you don''t put it on the chicken, but dip the chicken itself into it, instead." An interest appeared on her face and she willingly dipped the chicken in without arguing. It was quite astonishing, to be honest. When I previously instructed her on proper etiquette on eating deep fried chicken, she didn''t question it even once. Even though her first instinct was to use a fork and a knife, she immediately agreed on a least princess-like eating method without even acknowledging my existence. Too worked up, too much absorbed in the food in front of her, she did not care anymore. "Sir Cuisiner, you are full of mysteries." "I am, Your Highness?" "Of course. Say, what would you do, if I were to tell you this was not to my liking, either?" I just stood there, with a dumb look on my face. Since I''ve failed to produce an answer, she went on. "What else do you have up your sleeve, I wonder. Would you offer me something again that should make the chicken better? Or a new dish, perhaps? Maybe if I were to complain enough, you would bring the potatoes that I had asked for, in the first place?" "You don''t like the chicken, Your Highness." For the tinniest of moments a small smile flashed on her face, but she remained silent, looking at me, challenging me with her eyes. I was baffled. I had no idea what was going on, but it seemed there was only one thing for me to do. "Then," I pushed another plate towards her. "Potatoes." Chapter 17 The important part to note here is that I did not mess it up. You could even say that I succeeded. In fact, the end result was exactly what was expected of it, so you might even say all was well. The whole thing was going according to plan, as in the first batch of chicken was a complete disaster. On the upside and to my big surprise, we''ve found out that egg whites worked better for what we were trying to achieve. The spiced flour was fine, or as fine as it could be, considering. I wasn''t particularly proud of tasting the flour, but desperate measures were in order. Our problems, however, began once we dipped the chicken into hot oil. Both egg whites and yolk held the flour fine as far I could tell from outside the boiling oil. Problem was, I wasn''t able to tell. It took less than a minute for the most predictable calamity to happen. The oil boiled. And it started doing what boiling oil does best - its impression of an active volcano. It kept sizzling and spewing out blazing drops of oil, sending everyone in a ten meter radius running. So there we were. One of the two chickens I owned in the pot, the same pot which was scattering scorching drips of misery, and half a dozen screaming maids surrounding me. I didn''t particularly care for their angry shouts and insults at that moment, but before I could think of a way to get closer to the pot, it happened. That one thing you are always being warned about when cooking in oil, but never really take seriously. "FIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" The oil took fire. The scary thing about it is that the oil doesn''t have to get in direct contact with the flames to catch fire itself. All it takes is high enough temperature and an inexperienced chef. Next thing you know, your pot is on fire.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. "Quick, bring water!" I heard someone yell through the screams. "No water!" I yelled back. The scarier part was that you can''t put that fire out with water. Quite the opposite, really. To my horror, we were about to find that out the hard way. I was running. As hard and as fast as I have ever ran. Not thinking about the pot of flames, I was running straight towards it. Or towards a girl, who was carrying a bucket of water. What I did next, is what I call ''the bodyguard move'' - I tackled the hurrying girl, sweeping her off her feet and throwing her straight on the floor with my whole weight on top of her. Now to anyone who hasn''t seen the 90''s classic The Bodyguard - that is to say absolutely everyone in this room - this may look like an attack on the poor girl. Hopefully, my intention became clear immediately as drops of water fell on the flames. The result was pretty much what I had expected and quite clearly the last thing the girls would expect. You know how they say oil and water don''t mix? Well, it becomes painfully clear once you splash some water on the burning oil. It exploded. Quite literary. The oil that was pushed out of the pot by water, splashed all over the place in a hundred tiny fireballs. "The fire! The Fool is on fire!" The miniature fires spread everywhere, including my back and landed straight on my jacket. I''ve made up my mind. I just about had enough of this. Hastily I made sure that the girl underneath me wasn''t on fire and proceeded towards the blazing flames. I grabbed a large cloth, threw in top of the pot and slapped the lid on top of it, hoping it would suffocate the fire and took the pot off fire. Thankfully, it worked. I kept the lid on for a few minutes before checking, but once I did, the fire was long gone and the oil seemed almost (not really) cool. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned around, just to see half a dozen maids staring right at me, horrified expressions on their faces. "Crisis averted," I announced. "Might as well get back to work." Nobody moved. Some jaws may have dropped, but maids remained more or less motionless. The reason for that was soon offered to me in the most deadpan way you could expect from a child. "You are awfully calm for someone whose back is on fire." "Am I still?!" "... Yes." "Put it out!" After that, it was pretty much smooth sailing. Chapter 18 One of the girls went out and borrowed a spare set of heavy gloves and an apron from a local blacksmith, just in time for the second batch of chicken. Athena took it upon herself to blame me for trying to burn the keep down (rightfully so, probably) and if she wasn''t so busy herself, she probably would have pestered me until I left in tears, but since that wasn''t possible - not for the lack of effort on her part - she had to make do with keeping an eye on me from the sidelines. Interestingly enough, the head maid didn''t take the incident too seriously and once the panic died out she just laughed and teased other maids about their giddy screams. To avoid any unnecessary repeat of out problems, we''ve prepared accordingly, based on our previous experience. Almost burning down the kitchen really turned out to be for the better. We made mistakes and we learned from them. I even got to do a quick (second) practice run on leftover chicken from the first batch. Even with all that fire, the chicken somehow managed to remain raw. Guess the the whole catastrophe fire really lasted just a minute. The rest of the maids returned to their responsibilities, keeping a safe distance from me and my pots from hell. Cooking a second chicken went really smoothly. I remained close, controlling the oil temperature the best I could and about ten to fifteen minutes later I took the chicken out of the pot with a pair of makeshift chopsticks. Easy as pie. After that I proceeded to prepare for the worst. The thing with chicken is, even though it''s inherently easy to make, it''s still relatively hard for a buffoon. You don''t cook it long enough the meat will be bloody and chewy, if you overcook it, it will become dry. It was rather easy to mess up. So I needed something that wasn''t. Through all this chaos I almost forgot that I had prepared for that as well. A stack of potatoes, peeled and washed, was right in front of me, prepared for my use. I ponder for a while on how to cook them. My main concern remained the surprise factor, I wanted them to be unique from anything in this world. The obvious choice right now was to fry them in oil and considering my time constraints, that was the only thing I could do. The question was, what size do I want them in. Bigger pieces would be harder to mess up, but smaller ones, if done well, would be much tastier. I guess that''s what they mean when they say ''damned if you do, damned if you don''t''... I had a problem that desperately needed solving, but had no right solutions. Except for doing this and that and seeing what sticks. That seems about as good of a plan as I had all day. "So, you ready?" About 20 minutes into my standoff with the potatoes I was about done. The chicken was being kept warm over the furnace, the fried potatoes were fresh out of the oil. As far as my responsibilities went I was all done, the last thing left to do was facing the outcome of my labor. Although the challenging voice directed at me had something else in mind. "As ready as I''ll ever be," I said matter-of-factly. "How did your sauce turn out?" Instead of an answer, she let out a sound, something between a ''Hmpf'' and a ''Tsk'' and put a small bowl of sauce on the table in front of me. "That''s all of it?" "Of course not. The rest will be served to the princess after I have won," she said confidently. "Smart thinking." I took a closer look at her sauce. It seemed to be olive oil based, with some spices added. I''ve seen something similar to it in Italian restaurants, served with pizza. Not the cheap, franchised places where they give you an endless supply of ketchup. A bit on the higher end of the scale, instead, they would offer you oil based, more traditional flavoring. They can be a bit of an acquired taste, but once you get used to it, it''s quite delicious. These restaurants would usually serve a few kinds of these sauces. As well as ketchup (due to popular demand, I assume). "Well, we might as well taste it." I put a plate with some second edition chicken near the saucer. First edition, second attempt chicken, to be precise. Visually it turned out really quite well, just like the ones you''d get in a fast food joint. The meat itself turned out a bit dry, so I made sure not to overcook the second batch - the one that mattered. The coating was the best part of the chicken, in my own humble opinion. I got unbelievably lucky with the flour mix and the flavor turned out just right amounts of spicy and rich. However this challenge wasn''t about the chicken, but the sauce. Whatever the chicken''s faults were it would fulfill its basic purpose. I offered Athena a piece and took one myself, while a flock of maids surrounded us. Anticipation in their eyes was nothing compared to mine. I was positively enthused.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. "What are you doing?" "I was going to sample the sauce," I offered stupidly. "Did no one teach you proper etiquette?" Oh, so that''s what it was. Put the chicken on the plate, sauce on the side, use a number three fork and knife, eat in small bites and lay your utensils on the right side once you''re done. That etiquette. The funny thing was, I''m pretty sure I had never seen an actual fork in a fried chicken joint. Nor anyone who would wash their hands before eating, for that matter. "That''s how you eat deep fried chicken," I explained. "You hold it with your hands, you dip it into the sauce and try to enjoy yourself." "This kind of thing isn''t suitable for the princess!" "Oh. Definitely. The only thing less suiting a princess would be tacos." "Tacos?" Clem tilted her head to the side, childish curiosity in her eye. "You can''t be serious about serving this!" "I am. And it''s fine, the princess knows what she''s getting into." Or so I''ve hoped. She ate the chips, didn''t she? Athena seemed still reluctant, but she also had to realize arguing wouldn''t get her anywhere. "What is this anyway? What did you do to this chicken?" "You know exactly what I did. Now stop delaying and eat." She didn''t exactly get on my nerves, but this whole day I was under pressure and had accumulated a lot of stress. I did not exactly had the patience right now to explain everything I had known for a fact she had seen herself. More than that, I just wanted to taste that sauce. I led with example and dipped a piece of chicken into the sauce. Its texture wasn''t as creamy as you''d probably like a dipping sauce to be but it wasn''t my biggest concern. The taste was. "W-what is this?.." The moment she tasted the chicken, without even properly chewing it, Athena had asked no one in particular. "Did no one teach you proper etiquette? Don''t speak with your mouth full!" I rebuked. Quite cleverly, if I may say so myself. I re-dipped my chicken and took another bite. I didn''t pay much attention to my surroundings, too concerned with getting my taste pallets to perform their duty. However I couldn''t ignore reality for long. "Don''t drool on the chicken," I told Clem. "All right," she said, but without much success. "Do you want a piece?" "N-no, I''m fine," she said, still drooling. "Just take it," I offered. "In fact, everyone should have a taste. You all worked really hard today. For all your help you deserve better than these leftovers, but that''s all I have right now, so it will have to do. Please, try and enjoy yourselves." Clem was the first to react, without any hesitation she extended her arm and went after the biggest piece of chicken she could get her hands on. The rest of the maids hesitated for a while, a few of them exchanged looks, but at the end curiosity got the better of them - there was no way they would miss out on tasting something as crazy as this. "Wait!" Before I completely forgot about our deal, Athena interfered. She took it upon herself to remind me about it, but there was also something else reflected on her face and in her voice right now, although I couldn''t exactly comprehend what it was. "We made an oath. Your sauce, let''s taste it." She was determined, she wanted to make sure then and there. Sure of what, however, I did not know. What kind of outcome was she chasing? "So here''s the thing," I began before thinking better of it. "No. You win, your sauce is better." "N-no, what? You can''t just decide that!" "It''s true, you are a superior cook. I graciously admit defeat..." "Graciously my ass!" she proclaimed angrily. "Didn''t you say I would be the one to decide?" "Decide then, your sauce or no sauce, which one is better?" The way she looked at me, my blood almost froze. A look so chilling, my heart stopped from beating. She wasn''t cranky from a long day at work, she wasn''t annoyed, not even angry. She was furious. Furious with me. There was no one, nothing she hated more than me at that moment. Seeing that, I''ve felt like I missed something. Like I somehow disappointed her. Even worse, I felt bad for it. Like I disappointed myself. "What do you want me to say? I didn''t bother making sauce because I knew you could make anything as good as I ever could, even better. I didn''t make a sauce, because I trusted you and your ability. That is the truth. Will it suffice? Or do you want me to tell you how incapable of a chef I really am?" "You are a bastard." Was all she said in a voice filled with wrath, before she turned and hurried away and from the kitchen. I really was a Fool. And a bastard. I used her with no concern for her. There was no way for me to anticipate she would take this deceptive cook-off so seriously, granted, but I still acted like the biggest jerk in this world. Both worlds, even. A real bastard. "Guess that means she''s a better cuisiner, huh?" Clem was licking her fingers clean. The rest of the girls were a bit hesitant to taste the chicken and had concerned facial expressions, but Clem, either because she was a child or just an unreasonably positive person, did not let something so insignificant faze her. "So, what do you think?" "I think you are a pretty horrible human being." "About the chicken!" "It was quite sublime," Clem said seriously. "You really are full of surprises, Fool." Maids exchanged hurried looks and anxiety on their faces became curiosity. One by one they dipped their chicken in sauce and tasted it. One by one, their expressions changed. Amazement. Shock. Awe. Astonishment. "It''s wonderful!" "This is so delicious..." "It''s so crunchy on the outside, but soft in the middle..." Any other time I would have taken it as a boost of confidence. Right now, I found it hard to care. I lied and manipulated from the moment I came to this world without even thinking twice about it. Trying to justify it, I told myself that my life depended on it. Thing is, I don''t really mind it. I don''t mind lying, I don''t feel any emotional repercussions over it, not usually. Especially not now. Not like I could come out and tell them I came from some other world... Not until Inquisition was a thing - ending up on a stake wasn''t on my wishlist. However something about the look Athena gave me made me feel absolutely horrible about myself. I would really have to make it up to her somehow. Even though I did not know what had upset her, I couldn''t help but feel it was my fault. But what made me feel the worst was what I did not get to say... The thing was, her sauce really was out of this world. Chapter 19 "Could you please leave us?" The whole flock of maids turned all as one and moved towards the exit at princess''s behest. She offered me a seat with a motion of her hand, asking me to sit on her left. In the plate in front of her were fried potatoes, at least a half of them already gone. "Tell me your secrets," she said once we were alone. "Excuse me?" "You know what I want to know," she looked up at me. "You are not going to refuse a princess, will you?" "Well, first you pour the oil into a pot, then you..." "Not that," she interrupted me briskly. "Athena. What do you think of her? Do you like her?" "Um..." I had a stupid expression on my face so often today that it was probably becoming my neutral face at this point. Once again, I was dumbfounded. Did I hear her right? "Excuse me, I think I misheard, Your Highness..." "Athena! Do you love her? If you want, I could tell her to marry you and she would not be able to refuse me." "No, I''d rather you didn''t..." The passion that was burning in her eye was similar to that when she talked to me about food, back in her carriage. So food and gossip, those were the two big hobbies of a lady who would soon rule the whole country. "I think she''s a great chef and that she''s very loyal to the princess." "You are trying to change the subject!" "Not at all, that''s how I really feel." "Her pumpkin soup is excellent and my favorite," she gave in after an exaggerated sigh. "But a cuisiner? That is not possible." "Why not?" "Sir Cuisiner, are you still not feeling right? Everyone knows a cuisiner can only be a man." "What? A woman can''t be a chef?" now I was actually dumbstruck. "Why not?" "That is how it always was." "Wait, so you''re telling me someone actually thought that it would be a good idea to let a girl rule a country alone, but allowing a woman to be a cook is a no-no?" "Why not? Queen, King, that is but just a title, how a ruler rules is what defines him." "Isn''t the same true for a cuisiner?" "It may be, it may be not, but that is not why I asked for your company." Right, wasn''t that just to gossip? If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. This thing somehow really unnerves me. Anyone who has ever wondered into a fifth grade history class probably knows that for the longest time, in most countries women couldn''t rule alone if at all. But finding out that they didn''t put such an emphasis on gender felt somehow... Right. It felt natural. So much so, that finding out those same misguided gender biases exist here as well, felt even more disturbing. If the food is good, who the hell cares if the chef can pee standing up? "I was right about you, you know. The moment my lips touched your potato, I knew. It was like nothing I had ever seen, more importantly, it was like nothing I had ever tasted. Nothing else comes even close. You do not think like every other cuisiner and that is what makes you special." I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. "You understand the value in looking forward. While every other cuisiner was throwing potatoes onto hot stones, you put them into boiling water. When everyone else started putting them into boiling water, you put them into boiling oil," she smiled at me sweetly. "I see my secrets have been leaked." "Oh, before you even started cooking." We sat in silence for a while. The princess was thoroughly enjoying her food while we were talking. I tried my hardest not to think about whether she really liked it while doing my best to keep up with the conversation. "Athena?" "Of course. She was hard set on stopping me from eating anything made by you. What kind of atrocities is he doing, she told me, trying to cook a chicken in a pot filled with oil." "And that didn''t scare you away, Your Highness?" "It only made me want to taste it more," she smiled. "Athena is excellent at what she does. The best, even. But while she is still setting the water to boil, you are already thinking of what to cook your potatoes in, next." She was right about the second part, at least. I didn''t have the time to think about what was I going to prepare next, but I knew for a fact it couldn''t be something I made today. I would continue coming up with something new until I couldn''t or wouldn''t have to anymore. "Yes, Your Highness." "Everything I ate today is exquisite, but I did not lie before, either. The chicken was not as good as I hoped it would be. And I believe we both know why is that," the princess looked at me, playful smile on her face. Do we? I know why the chicken wasn''t good - I suck. But did she know that? I gave up the idea of this whole day being a massive prank long ago, otherwise I would''ve thought she was in on it and I was about to get bamboozled. I braced for impact. "Why is that?" I asked carefully. "Your Highness..." "You do not need to act in front of me. You are all pale, you can barely walk, anyone can see that. I will look forward to tasting your chicken again, once you are well rested." Lack of rest isn''t a bad excuse and it''s definitely not a lie, either. Being invited to sit down by the princess just now might as well have been a miracle for my legs. "Thank you, Your Highness." "Now tell me, what did you do with the potatoes?" "But you already know, do you not? I cooked them in oil." "I know that much. But what then?" the passionate sparkle returned to her eye. She was back to being a little girl I talked to in that carriage. "That''s about it. You cook it in oil, then take it out and put some salt on it." "And that is all? Just cooking it in oil..." she said deep in thought. "And what about the sauce? It is so... Sweet, but sour at the same time. And it goes so well with the potatoes, like it completes one another." "That''s sour cream sauce, with melted cheese and thyme." This one thing I was confident about, since it''s something I would actually make myself rather often. It''s tasty, incredibly easy to make and as the princess said, it goes really well with either fried potatoes of potato chips. I heaved a sigh of relief, knowing that the princess agreed with me on this. "Incredible. Truly, unbelievable. Sir Cuisiner, you are a man full of mysteries. I cannot wait to see what you will bring me next." "Thank you, Your Highness," I said, my mouth dry. We sat there for a while longer, in silence, while the princess finished the food. Once she was done, I stood up not knowing what to do with myself. Should I collect the plate? "Leave it, my attendants will take care of it. It is already late and I am sure you cannot wait to go to your own quarters. Go and get some rest." I bowed and turned to leave, suddenly feeling relieved. What kind of day has it been... "Sir Cuisiner," she stopped me in my tracks. "Do not doubt for a moment, that be it a man, a woman or even a child, if I believe they can get me closer to my goal, I will not hesitate to use them." "Good night, Your Highness," I nodded and left the hall. There was no doubt in my mind. Chapter 20 Only after I''ve left the megaron and proceeded through the hallways of the keep, I started to count my blessings. Somehow this whole unfortunate situation worked out just fine, at least for now. I was yet to figure out what I should be doing next, but for a time being the princess approved of my culinary ideas, which meant less problems for me. Right now I''ll go with the flow, until something better shows up, that''s about as good as it gets for me. After reaching the stairwell it hit me - I had no idea where to go. I couldn''t even remember the way back to the kitchens, and that is the only place in the keep I know. The princess said something about a bed for me to rest, but where do I even start looking for that? As I proceeded going down, I noticed someone standing at the bottom of the stairs. It was a young girl, sixteen or so years old, wearing a maid''s outfit. I wasn''t really good with remembering faces and I didn''t pay much attention to other maids in the kitchen to begin with, but if I had to guess, I''d say she was one of the girls Clem brought. She had shoulder length brown hair and right now she was grabbing her head with her both hands in despair. I was going to let her be, but then a thought occurred to me - I should ask her where I could find Clem, after that I''d just force that little rascal to take me to my room. "Hello, excuse me." "Argh! I''ve found you! Oh goodness," she shouted right at me. "No, you have the wrong guy." "No, I think that''s you. Tall, dark hair..." "Could be anyone..." "... stupid expression on his face..." "Yeah, that''s definitely me, then." "Also is cuisiner to the princess..." "Nice to meet you." She smiled a bit nervously. I was sure she looked familiar, so I must''ve seen her before. It must''ve been in the kitchens, but I couldn''t be sure. Living with prosopagnosia is tough, I tell you. "Yes! My name is Judith." "You can call me Aili." "And you can call me Judith! I prefer being called by my name and not girlie." "Oh..." I realized. "Yes?" she smiled innocently. "About that," I began, not quite sure what to say. "Sorry, I really didn''t mean to say something that stupid..." "You don''t have to apologize, Aili," she said seriously. "Not to me, at least." So was it her who I called ''girlie'' before, or not? She quite clearly was one of those people that were incredibly tiring to talk to. We''ve been talking for less than a minute and I already felt exhausted. And I still had no idea who she really was.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. "Anyway, I''ve been asked to wait for you and then show you back to the kitchen. But while I was waiting for you to be excused, I suddenly had this intense urge to go to the bathroom..." "You really don''t have to tell me..." "And when I returned you were already gone! So I went looking for you all over. Thank goodness I''ve found you," she looked genuinely relieved, so I decided not to point out that she didn''t actually find me. "Shall we go, then?" I offered. "Yes! Follow me, please," she happily agreed. "You know, you''re becoming quite popular," she said once we were walking through the halls of the keep. "I am?" "Yes," she laughed. "You weren''t at first, I mean, everyone did think that the rumors were exaggerated or that you were a show-off and a fool, then you went ahead and insulted all of the maids, set a fire in the kitchen..." "You really don''t have to remind me." "... and you just look all around stupid. But then, when we finally tasted the chicken, was like everyone forgot all the mean things you did..." "I''m really not as bad of a person as you make it sound." "... and now everyone can''t wait to taste what you''ll make next. Wanna hear a secret?" "Not really." "I think the rest of the girls got really jealous when I was the one selected to escort you," she giggled, pleased with herself. "Are they afraid I will cook you something on the way there?" "Can you?!" "Of course not." She stopped and turned to me, pouty. I guess she thought I was teasing her or something? Judith turned again and opened the doors to the kitchen. Inside, were a few familiar faces. The two people I actually knew by name, Clem and Athena, weren''t there, but I did recognize the older princess''s attendant from before, as well as the rest of the maids. "Ah, sir cuisiner," the older lady addressed me. "Please, come join us." She was sitting around one of the kitchen tables with four other maids, snacking on cheese and fruit, waiting for someone or maybe just relaxing after a hard days work. Under the curious looks of other maids, Judith and I went ahead and sat on the two empty seats near the table. "The princess was very pleased with what you have prepared," princess''s caretaker said once we sat down. "Didn''t you leave before she was done?" "Sir cuisiner, how long do you think I have been with the princess?" she laughed. "There are very few things I do not know about her and to me it was plain as day, how much she liked today''s dinner. You may not know this, but she was looking for someone like you for a very long time." "I''ve heard..." It was a bit weird having a dozen eyeballs set on me, so I shifted my view to the table. "We were about to eat dinner, will you be joining us?" Once again the thought of basic necessities managed to escape me for a good part of the day. I didn''t even realize how hungry I was before she mentioned it... It was also uncomfortably clear to me right now, that I haven''t been to the bathroom since midday. "I would love to," I said and tried to stand up. "No, no, sit down, let us take care of it." A few of the maids stood up, one passed along eating utensils, another poured soup and the last one was carrying said soup. Soon enough, the seven of us each had a plate of steaming pumpkin soup in front of them. "Isn''t this the same soup?.." "Athena''s soup? Yep!" Judith happily cut me off. "Won''t she be joining us?" I asked stupidly. "She''s... Not feeling too well, today," one of the maids offered uncomfortably. Clearly it wasn''t a pleasant topic and I even knew who''s fault was that. "And the head maid is usually already asleep this late at night," someone tried to change a topic. I wasn''t sure what time it was, but it couldn''t have been that late. "Sir cuisiner, let me introduce myself," the attendant said. "I am Meredith, attendant to the princess of Jarenbourg." "Nice to meet you, please call me Aili." "Ah, hello, let me introduce myself, I am Cait, a maid to the princess of Jarenbourg." "You don''t have to say the exact same thing Meredith did, you know." "Nice to meet you, please call me Amber." "And my name is Sameen." "I am Iggy, it is a pleasure." "Yes, nice to finally meet you all," I said, trying to sound cheerful. Look at me, eating dinner with a bunch of beautiful girls, making new friends. So there was Meredith, the older attendant, Judith, the brown haired maid, and the rest of the maids whose names I have already forgotten. Don''t you just love meeting new people? Chapter 21 "So now that you have met everyone, shall we eat?" Meredith offered. "Yes! I''m starving!" Judith exclaimed, before she reached for a small bowl on the table. She took a handful of whatever was in it, threw it in her soup and passed the bowl along, for the rest of my dinner companions to do the same. Before the basin reached me, Meredith noticed my curiosity. "Almonds," she simply explained to me. "Almonds? You put them in your soup?" "And you don''t?" one the maids whose name I was yet to remember, asked curiously. "Or is it just that you don''t like them?" "I like them just fine. But I''ve never actually seen anyone put one in their soup." "Oh? I thought everyone ate their soup that way..." "They do. It''s the first time I''m seeing someone who doesn''t." "You must not be from Jarenbourg then, Aili?" Meredith asked. "I''m not," I admitted. "And we don''t eat our soup with almonds where I''m from. Or any kind of nuts, for that matter." "Is that so? How peculiar. Where are you from, then?" she looked actually interested. And so were the rest of the maids, apparently. "Me? I..." I hesitated for a moment. "I don''t remember..." Where am I from? I can''t just go out and tell them the truth. I faintly remembered the princess and her guards talking about some foreign land? Or some other lordling who I presumably served before my ship crashed? I probably should''ve payed more attention while they were creating my backstory for me... "You do not remember?" Meredith, as the rest of the table, looked confused. "I don''t know," I said quietly and tried to sound as mysterious as possible. "I don''t really want to talk about it." It''s better people think I have secrets, or that I have some dark, traumatizing past, than the alternative. Let them gossip, let them speculate, what else there is to do in a keep, anyways? We sat in uncomfortable silence for a while, before Judith broke it, with her cheerful voice. "Here, try it with the almonds! Try it!" I conceded and threw a handful of almonds into my soup. The interesting thing about this pumpkin soup was that it wasn''t blended. The only kind of pumpkin soup I''ve ever ate was the one they jumble with a blender and serve it in a creamy smooth state. I found it curious more that anything else, since the plate paced in front of me smelled great. I went ahead and tasted it. It was like nothing I had expected and at the same time it was exactly what I predicted it would be. It was nothing like the fluffy soups I was used to, but it was buttery, soft and rich in flavor. The small pieces of pumpkin were practically melting in my mouth, leaving the aftertaste, of what I now recognized as basil. I proceeded to sample one spoonful after another, completely forgetting the world around me.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. It could''ve been just because I was starved, but at that moment I could swear that was the most delicious thing I have ate in a long, long while. The almonds were a pleasant surprise as well. They didn''t exactly were meant for pumpkin soup, but I could see why people would flavor their soup with them. It was similar, in a way, to how some people would add cream or crackers to their soup, but at the same time it was more practical. Not everyone could afford a full meal, and not every soup in the Kingdom was as rich as the one prepared for the princess, so the almonds offered a sense of fullness. And they were great from nutritional perspective as well, though I doubt whoever came up with putting them in a soup knew much about nutritional values and RDIs. "It''s delicious," I finally said, after devouring more than half of it. "I am glad you like it, it is princess''s favorite, you know," Meredith said. "That''s not something you hear from a cuisiner very often," said one of the maids. "Praising someone else''s cooking, that is." "You know, Aili, cuisiner is supposed to be the one who prepares the dinner for the princess''s attendants as well as her maids." "He is? I mean, I am?" "Yes," she smiled. "In fact, everyone was hoping to taste some more of your cooking tonight, that''s the only thing everyone kept talking abou-- OUCH!" I looked up from my plate, just to see a flock of blushing maids, all avoiding my gaze. The one who was blushing the most was sitting next to Judith and by the looks of it was trying to kick her leg under the table. She was the same awkward girl, who tried repeating Meredith''s introduction, I recognized. "I''m sorry, I didn''t know..." "It''s fine, it''s fine! But make sure to make us something tasty tomorrow, yes?" "Ah." "Not to worry, you do not have to prepare anything specially just for us," Meredith added, seeing me fluster. "It is fine to simply make the same thing you prepare for the princess, but enough for everyone." "I see... Then I will do that." This new information came more as a shock than anything else. I already had my hands full with having to cook for one person, but now I had to cook for a whole flock of maids, as well as who knows how many attendants... It was just one of those things that simply keeps happening to me, I guess. "Then am I to cook breakfast, as well?" "No, we are responsible for the breakfast," as Meredith was about to speak, another one of the maids intervened. "For the princess and for the staff." "Lunch is usually a luck of the draw between the cuisiner and the maids," another one added. "The ones who cook lunch for the princess end up responsible for the staff as well." "Guess that makes you, Aili," Judith patted me on my back happily. "I doubt the princess will want to eat anything that wasn''t prepared by her cuisiner for the next few moons." "Next thing we''ll know, you will even be responsible for the breakfast..." "You won''t see me complaining." "Oh, Athena won''t like it..." "What is her deal, anyway?" I asked. "Do not worry about her," Meredith answered calmly. "She has a lot of pride and not much experience in handling it. Unless, of course, you mean that thing the princess mentioned?" she smiled an old person''s knowing smile. "No, that''s definitely not what I was talking about..." "Do not take these things too seriously," she laughed. "The princess might be ruling this country one day, but right now she is still just a girl who wants to talk about romance and gossip about the matters of love." I figured as much. Food and gossip, what else is there for a future queen? "And Athena wants to be a cuisiner?" "She does. Or she did before, but now she had given up on that notion." "How come?" "The same way it always is. At some point we all realize that we cannot all be knights or ladies of the court and settle for whatever we can be, instead of what we wanted to be." A matter, that was all too familiar to me. I too had dreams and aspirations once, and now was stuck doing a job I didn''t like, with people I hated, working for something I did not believe in. Sometimes life just happens and you have to give up on your dreams and take whatever is in front of you. And sometimes, apparently, you can get away from that pit of self-loathing and get thrown into another world to cook for the royal princess. Things just happen, life is funny that way. I enjoyed the rest of my soup while chatting with my companions about this and that, after that I felt my eyes starting to close on their own and one of the maids offered to take me to my quarters. I wished everyone a good night and followed my guide with a single dreadful thought on my mind: Do they even have bathrooms in this world? Chapter 22 As I learned the moment I got to look around my room: they do not. Near my bed was a large wooden bucket, a chamber pot. Not too exited about that prospect, I allowed my thoughts to wonder. The journey from the kitchen was rather uneventful. We moved through a few hallways on the bottom floor, as my guide explained to me, most of keep''s staff lived there, including the maids. It was a very simple arrangement and I imagined it must get really cold and damp in their quarters. On the second floor were the chambers for the key personnel and guests of the keep. It was much tidier than the floor below, it even had potted flowers arranged on the walls, to lighten up the dark stone walls if just a little. Usually, I was told, all the rooms would be taken as the lordlings would flock to the court, however right now only two people were residing here. One of them being myself - as princess''s personal cuisiner, I apparently deserved my own private chambers. The other room on this floor was occupied by Kelbert, the overgrown, terrifying captain of the King''s guard. The thought of being the only one on the whole floor with this man sent a shiver down my spine. He didn''t seem to be the friendliest guy to begin with and on top of that he seemed to have a personal grudge against the princess, her guard and by extension, me. On the third floor, right above us, were the premier quarters. Right now the princess was the only one staying there, with her attendants and personal guard occupying the outside chambers, for her safety and comfort. Once the maid, whose name I had trouble remembering, showed me to my bedroom, she lit up a spare candle, handed it to me and after saying "Good night" left me. The room itself was as simple as they come. Cold, stone black walls, a frigid furnace in the corner and a bed opposing it. At the end of it was a chamber pot, as well as a large chest for my personal belongings. Realizing full well that my rushing thoughts, a hard bed and cold walls will keep me awake for a while I still lied down on the bunk, without even taking off my clothes. I tucked in under the chilly sheets and waited for the sleep to take me. Before I could ponder the question of what has become of my life I dozed off. It wasn''t a pleasant sleep, I kept waking up and dozing off again every few minutes, being haunted by feverish nightmares, dreaming of soldiers coming to get me and guillotines. After a few hours I decided I can''t take this anymore and jumped from the bed. I pushed the wooden blinders open wondering what time it was, just to see it was still dark outside. It was that time of the night where it was either sunrise or few minutes before it, depending on who you ask. It wasn''t so dark that I couldn''t see the buildings outside, but the sun wasn''t peeking over the horizon either. I contemplated what to do with my chamber pot for a while, but soon decided to leave it be for now and escaped from my room. Before opening the door, however, I put my ear to it and listened carefully. Once I made sure Kelbert wasn''t outside, I cracked the door open and went outside. Now that I thought about it, no matter how restless was my sleep, I didn''t hear a single sound from my neighbor all night. That was a little odd, but I shoved the thought aside, only too happy not to meet the man in question.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. It took me less time than I had expected to find the exit. Once I reached the yard I stood there for a moment, not really sure what I wanted to do next. I inhaled the cold, early morning air deep into my lungs. It was so clean, like I had never felt before. Thinking back to it, air this clean was simply impossible in the world I came from, and subconsciously it was one of the reasons I accepted this whole unlikely scenario as a reality. "That''s bollox..." "No, I tell you the truth. They say he threw it into boiling oil." "And how is that good? Such a waste of good meat!" "That''s what they say. But listen to this..." As I was minding my own business I couldn''t help but overhear two soldiers casually chatting. Or it would probably be more appropriate to say "gossiping". And apparently, they were talking about me. Either too absorbed in their conversation to notice, or simply because they had no idea who I was, they continued talking. "They also say he is such a fool, he didn''t even know it was oil and thought it was water!" "A complete moron, then?" "Exactly. The worst was, it actually tasted good and he took it as if he intended for it to happen all along, just to grab all the credit..." So that what it was, the general consensus? Just an idiot who lucked out and invented deep frying? Too tired to actually care I smile to myself and moved on. The sun was about ready to peek from under the horizon and the town was waking up with it. Stable boys were running around, preparing the horses for the early riders and feeding the hounds. Soldiers on the walls changed as well, as their shift came to an end, they happily headed towards barracks, where they will sit in the dining hall, eat a bowl or two of porridge, drink a pint of ale before going to catch up on their sleep. The gates of the keep were closed and not wanting any unnecessary attention I steered clear from them. I could only assume the townspeople outside of the keep were waking up and preparing for the day ahead as well. I wanted to try and climb up the wall of the keep, but before I could I heard someone calling for me. When I turned around to look who it was, I saw a maid running towards me in small steps. She had shoulder-length black hair and yesterday proved to be very shy and awkward. Of the four names that were thrown at me last night by the maids, I remember only one, Cait, and was pretty sure it belonged to this girl. A sudden memory popped into my head. What I was going to do now was actually so stupid, the last time I did it was probably in middle school. And yet somehow, then and there, it seemed like a good idea. "Aili!" "Where is Cait?" I asked playfully, putting the palms of my hands on top of my eyes, trying my best not to blush like an idiot. "I''m right here!" SUCCESS! To think that something this silly would actually work! I was now on a real hot streak, one down, three to go. The problem there, however, was that I had no idea where to start. I barely remembered what one of them looked like, I had no clue what any of theirs names could be. Isabella, maybe? "Oh there you are," I haven''t felt this embarrassed in a long time. "Good morning." "Oh, good morning," she still looked a bit weirded out, but was only too happy to shake it off. "So did you see Isabella today?" "Who''s Isabella?" Well, fuck. You win some, you lose some. "Oh it''s just a nickname I came up with." "That''s... Funny." Seeing as I didn''t find it that funny and by the looks of it, neither did Cait, it was about time to wrap my little experiment up. "So why were you looking for me?" "That''s right. I''ve been sent to tell you, the princess will be leaving for the capital immediately. We are to prepare and pack within an hour." "That''s fine, I don''t really have anything to pack." The look that Cait gave me after that, it will likely haunt me for the rest of my life. I imagined it was probably the same look you give someone who just told you they prefer to drink milk straight from the udder. "You still have to prepare the food for the princess''s journey." "Oh, that." And so I was successfully persuaded that my nickname in ''The Fool'' was well deserved. Chapter 23 "Where''s my breakfast, Fool?" The moment we entered the kitchen, I was greeted by Clem. Kind of. "Aren''t maids the ones responsible for breakfast?" I inquired. "Not if the cuisiner failed to prepare the dinner last night." "Is that a rule or just you being lazy?" "It''s fine, isn''t it?" one of the maids came to my rescue. She had black hair, olive skin, deep brown eyes and a lovely smile on her otherwise coarse face. "I can make breakfast, I don''t mind." "Nooooooo." "Absolutely not." "I''d rather eat dirt." "You guys are too mean!" tears rolled down her face, as the other maids shut her down immediately. "Either way I don''t have time to make anything for breakfast," I interfered. "I have to prepare something for the journey, so you''ll have to take care of it yourselves, sorry." "Cuisiner avoiding his duty... I figured as much," a voice came from within the kitchen. "Not only do you fail to show up on time, you refuse to fulfill your responsibility once you do. Not to worry, sir, I''m already making breakfast so you can go ahead and relax." The way Athena said ''sir'', with so much scorn in her voice, did not leave any doubt in anyone''s mind how she felt. She was still angry at me and for a good reason at that. However I had bigger issues than Athena''s contempt. In fact her mistrust in me may even be an advantage, as it solved one of my problems. By deciding that I was a useless good-for-nothing and choosing to make breakfast herself, she took a potential concern off my shoulders before it could even blossom. I was determined to delegate this responsibility to the maids all along, but it was nice to know that there was someone who had my back, even if her intentions were less than altruistic. "See what you did to me, Fool?" Clem asked with theatrical despair. "Now I will have to eat something made by her..." "I was only late because no one told me when I am expected," I offered an explanation. "Sorry," Cait apologized. "I came to wake you up, but you weren''t in your room and I didn''t know where to find you..." "No, it''s my fault. I shouldn''t have left, you don''t have to apologize," an explanation, but not an apology. Seeing that she brightened up a little I walked towards Athena. I had very limited time and every intention to make the most of it. Sadly, that meant taking advantage of her once again. My biggest problem right now was a complete lack of ideas. Whatever thoughts I may have had for dinner tonight went out the window. My intention all along was to hand over both breakfast and lunch to the maids, while spending most of the day preparing a perfect dinner. However, right now I had but an hour to work with. A sensible choice here would be to make something I was familiar with already, but since that list pretty much began with boiled eggs and ended with omelette, I had to give up on that notion. Not just that, I had to make something that would survive the strenuous journey. What could that be I had absolutely no idea, but if there was even a slightest chance for me to get it from a moody maid who unconditionally hated me, I was going to take that chance with open arms.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "So what are you making for breakfast?" I asked casually. "That does not concern you." "You are making pancakes?!" "Did someone say ''cakes''?" Judith demanded, looking like a dog who smelled a bone. "It''s nothing!" Athena snarled. "You''re making softcakes!" Judith exclaimed, her mouth watering visibly. "Go away! You''re going to drool all over them." "Let me have just one..." "I said no! Go and wait until they''re ready." Judith tried to swipe one of the pancakes while Athena wasn''t looking, only to get her fingers slapped away with a spatula. "You''re mean..." Judith cried and walked away sulkily. "Softcakes, huh? What do you make the batter from?" I inquired curiously. "What, a cuisiner who doesn''t even know how to make softcakes?" Athena sneered. "I am not even surprised." "Flour, eggs, salt, sugar... Or honey, in this case," I said noticing a clay pot on the table near her. "Milk and or water. That sounds about right?" "Why ask if you know the answer yourself?" she snapped at me. "I asked precisely because I did not know," I explained calmly. "It''s peculiar that you call them ''softcakes'', where I''m from we call them ''pancakes''." "Pancakes, you say? Cakes that you make in a pan... Someone put a lot of thought into that one, huh?" she grinned mockingly. "Just how primitive are you people?" Well that was rich, coming from someone who thought chamber pot was the pinnacle of human civilization. The curious thing here was that I never expected for them to know of pancakes. If I ever had to make breakfast, that would be the first thing that I would make, being absolutely sure that I would be the first one to introduce these people to this glorious breakfast dish. Pancakes are, in fact, one of the few things that I actually routinely used to cook myself. Now that I know of their existence in this world, I have no illusions of my pancake cooking skills impressing anyone. "Either way," I turned back to the maids. "What will I be making?" "That''s up to you, of course. Whatever you make I''m sure the princess will be pleased," said one of the maids. "How long is the journey to the capital, anyway?" "About two nights," she said without much pondering. "But you don''t have to cook for all of it. We''ll be making camp to spend the night, so if you choose to cook dinner then, you would only have to prepare lunch right now." "And how many people will I be cooking for?" "Let''s see..." Judith entered the conversation after staring down the softcakes in Athena''s pan. "The soldiers have their salted meats and hardened breads, so you don''t have to worry about them. Actually, you''re only really obliged to cook for the princess herself, but I would much rather eat anything you make than..." "Than what?" Athena cut her off harshly. "Than... Share the meat with the soldiers, yeah, that''s what I was gonna say," Judith looked away anxiously. "So ballpark it for me, what am I looking at?" "Huh?" "I mean, could you please estimate the number of people I should prepare to cook for?" "With the princess, her attendants and the maids... Around fifteen?" "That sounds about right." "Fifteen people, huh..." I still didn''t know what I was going to make, but watching Athena before gave me an idea. "Say, what can you make from almonds?" "Almonds?" "Yes, do you make something from them? Put them in anything besides soup?" "Well, of course. Don''t you?" "What, exactly?" "All kinds of things. Fish, meat..." "How about eating them raw?" "Sure, it can be eaten raw..." "Wait, you do know raw almonds doesn''t really count as a dish, right Fool?" I could beat around the bush all day, but the only way for me to find out what I wanted was to ask directly. "Do you ever cook it with honey?" That got a reaction out of them. Or a lack of it, as the maids stood dumbfounded for a while. "We do now!" Clem let out a cheer full of joy. "Not that I''ve heard of it, but it does sound delicious." "Is that what you''ll be making?" "That''s the plan," I said honestly. The fact that almonds in honey somehow escaped this world was a real mystery, but a very welcome one at that. It wasn''t a proper dish in any way, but as far as snacks went it was a delicious one. And reasonably easy to make, or so I''ve hoped. The troublesome part might be explaining to them what I actually needed. "Is there a thing that you bake a bread in, here?" "Like an oven?" "..." "..." "Yeah, that''s the one." Well that was easier than I expected. Who would''ve thought that the gas oven was actually named after the oven that was built into a furnace? On top of that, I have once again reinforced my reputation as a complete buffoon. "What of it?" "How soon can we get one ready?" "It already is. It''s heated by the same furnace as the stove." "Well then... Let''s make ourselves a dessert, shall we?"