Chapter 11

“Hey. Hey. –Elma.”

When Juliana and the servants, with full bellies, had dispersed, and Elma was clearing the kitchen table with Irene’s help, Georges, who had finished cleaning up earlier, spoke to her.

“I didn’t mean… what I said yesterday…”

It’s just an unfamiliar apology in Louden’s language, which he was not used to, and it was said in a completely mumbled tone of voice.

But Erma didn’t mind that, as she smoothly moved her hands around.

“Not at all. I’m the one who should apologize for inadvertently ruining your position as head chef.”

She replied matter-of-factly.

“No, no, no, no. I mean, I shouldn’t have allowed that to happen in my own workplace. I should have been aware of that at the time, and I should have been punished.”

If Georges had been able to take control of the kitchen properly, the situation would not have happened in the first place.

Instead of an apology, he told her that she could use the kitchen as she pleased when she was there from now on. Still, rather than that unbeatable offer, it was only when Georges declared that he would be tightening up the kitchen from now on that Elma nodded in satisfaction.

‘Although I can’t see much of it because of my glasses.’

I think that’s great. They say that in a well-governed and cooperative workplace, injustice is less likely to occur. With this, the risk of poisoning within the royal castle will be reduced as much as possible.

“Ah……”

Elma understood that the ‘unusual’ behavior she sometimes displayed took a toll on Lucas’s life and stomach.

If she could repay the prince a little bit of his debt in this way, it would be an excellent thing.

‘I owe you a favor.’

It was perfectly straightforward and normal.

Elma was pleased, albeit with a straight face.

It was Georges who was troubled by Elma, who had become somewhat self-contained.

‘I can’t read this girl’s thoughts.’

‘Or rather, if I think about it calmly, I can’t use my line of thinking to understand what she does.’

Speaking of which, Georges remembered that he had yet been able to comment on her overwhelming skill, and he clumsily spewed the compliment out of his mouth, fumbling with his words.

“You did a great job with that ……. I’m very impressed, to be honest.”

“I’m grateful for the compliment; thank you very much.”

“No, really. The sandwiches were great, but more than that, the knife work, the oil work ……. To be honest, I thought my tongue was going to fall out of my mouth many times. No, I’ve been waiting for that giant tuna to come out.”

Although Prince Lucas complimented Georges’ concentration, in normal times, even he would have buckled down.

It was such an extraordinary sight.

“Where the hell did you get that skill?”

“That skill ……, you say?”

“So. Giant tuna, caught, cut up, fried, stuffed. That’s the technique, you know. Totally…. Holy power, or else I’d think you were using some kind of lost magic.”

Holy power is the power that only a high-ranking master of the church can share God’s grace and use it.

Demonic power is the power that only the demon tribe that once spread misfortune across this continent had and is said to have been lost with their demise.

Magic is a favorite subject in the world of operas and novels, but no one believes in such things in these days and times.

Georges asked, wondering why he didn’t seem to have gone to school.

“What ……?”

Elma tilted her head in annoyance.

“Isn’t raising tuna and watching them, and eventually catching and eating them, a form of food education that can be found in every family?”

“…… Are you a fisherman or something in your house?”

“No. The only marine life in our nutrition education program was tuna and Kraken, so I thought you could say they were fishermen.”

“Kraken! Is it that Kraken that the Guru’s can’t defeat even with ten men?”

Georg chickened out and couldn’t help but ask back in his native tongue.

Even Irene, who was listening beside him, couldn’t help but raise her voice with him, but as she said that, Elma thought, “Normal people can’t beat it……?” And then her neck angled further downwards.

“The Kraken is a type of octopus that you catch every summer. Even if you’re a …… shabby man, can’t you at least handle a Kraken? Even if you’re the head chef?”

“-…. …Yes?”

The timid head chef opened his mouth.

He froze for about five seconds with a strange expression on his face, but eventually, he resumed his halted breathing and patted Elma’s head, looking a bit grumpy.

“……Dammit, Luden jokes are hard to understand.”

“Yeah.”

Elma and Irene’s mutterings overlap.

But that seemed to keep the spiritual peace between Georges and the castle intact to this day.