Chapter 25

"Your Highness, I went to the garden that the head chef taught me about. Here, please have some nectar."

"Welcome back. Oh, is this it? Well, let's see... Huh? Gil, you smell good."

"Really? What kind of smell?"

Gil, who had flinched for a moment, averted his gaze from the prince and feigned ignorance.

"You went off course and bought snacks during work hours, didn't you? I'll have to cut your pay."

"Hey, don't do that! It's not like that! I just ended up at a place where they were making lunch..."

"Hmm. So you had lunch and kept your master waiting. Fine, pay cut."

"It's not like that, I tell you!"

The prince bit into the nectar fruit with a laugh.

(Oh, this taste,) he thought.

The juice filled his mouth, a refreshing tartness and a rich sweetness. The flesh was soft despite the fine fibers.

"Delicious."

Gil watched as his master closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

(For nectar. For someone who grew up with the most luxurious food,) he smiled wryly. Prince Markus looked at Gil.

"So? What did you eat?"

"I saw them making something called 'petit.' I had that."

"Petit? Are they foreigners?"

"No, they didn't look like it. It was freshly fried and hot, and it was really delicious."

"Hmm. Pay cut confirmed."

"Your Highness!"

Reaching for the second nectar, Markus bit into it while thinking.

In the language of the country across the sea, "petit" means small, and "ju" means treasure box. He had never eaten it before. Hot petit. He really wanted to try it.

"The kid said they had only read about it in a book and were making it for the first time."

"The kid?"

"Yes. They're still children. There were two girls cooking. One looked clever, and the other looked like a fairy. The clever one lives in the garden, and the fairy-like one has only recently started visiting."

Markus's face took on a teasing expression as he looked at Gil.

"So, you were eating homemade meals made by beautiful girls while I was sweating over paperwork."

Gil suppressed a laugh and continued.

"The petit was so delicious that I ended up eating two. The water I drank afterward was incredibly refreshing. I wanted to live there."

"So?"

Gil's face became serious in response to Markus's question.

"The water I drank at the mysterious garden was as good as or even better than the rainwater from the barrels. They collected rainwater in barrels, just like the other garden."

"I see."

"Are you going to investigate?"

There was a pause before Markus answered.

"That area has already been thoroughly investigated, and there are no underground water sources. If they weren't hiding their water source, there would be no need to investigate. It rains in the residential areas and around the palace, so there's no reason to investigate them alone. But I'm curious."

Gil looked uneasy.

"It was a well-maintained, prosperous garden. It didn't seem like a place where bad people gather."

"That's true. Honest farmers can't be people who try to make easy money. It's a job that involves facing crops day in and day out. They're probably serious people. ...I see, petit. It was that delicious?"

"Yes, very."

"Gil, go to the kitchen and tell them to make petit. If the chef doesn't know what it is, explain it to them."

Gil left, muttering complaints, and Markus fell into thought again.

(I should go and see what kind of people are there. If things go well, I might be able to uncover the secret of the rain. Is there a magician? If a magician were born, they should report it to the country. But everyone knows that when my grandfather became king, a system was established to favor magicians. So that's not it?)

In the kitchen, the head chef was agitated.

He had to make a dish called petit that he had never eaten, based on Gil's limited vocabulary. The chef confronted Gil, asking, "Tonight? The prince wants it tonight?"

"Yeah, I think he wants it tonight."

"Ugh. The shell is made of potatoes? Crispy on the outside? Is it breadcrumbs? What binds the potatoes? The filling is chicken and vegetables? Sweet and spicy with a little kick?"

"Yeah, it was fried in oil."

"Did you eat it?"

"Yeah, it was really delicious."

The head chef, Senesch, started cooking with a furrowed brow.

After a while, when Gil tasted the petit, he tilted his head. Senesch asked, "It's not right? What's different?"

"The oil had a sweet aroma."

"Is this it?"

Gil was given a whiff of the oil in a dish.

"Ah, that's the smell."

"It's coconut oil. You should have said so."

"I can't tell the difference between oils."

"Haah."

Although Gil's rank was much higher than the head chef's, he was used to this kind of treatment since he started serving as the prince's guard.

He had seen the prince, his foster brother, always approach tasks with sincerity since they were young. Academics, swordsmanship, physical training, manners—there was no end to the tasks, and his friend was always working on them.

For his master, he was willing to endure a few sighs. If it made his master smile, it was worth it.

"How about this time?"

The smell was the same, and the texture was crunchy. But something was still off. As he pondered, the chef almost cried.

"Similar but different."

"Gil-sama..."

"No, this is fine. Serve this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'll take responsibility."

That night, the five members of the royal family enjoyed the petit for the first time. Since petit was a common dish from another country, it was the first time all of them had tried it.

"It's delicious."

"Mm, delicious."

Both his parents were pleased, and his younger siblings were reaching for their second and third pieces without a word. The main dish of lamb wasn't being touched at all. The chef would probably cry over this. Watching his family enjoy the petit, Markus remembered Gil's words.

"The vegetables and chicken in the garden were more flavorful."

"I see. I should try it too."

(Do they know how to make it rain? But if they do, why did they abandon that desert garden? I should see these people with my own eyes before they run away from an official investigation.)