Chapter 15

"Is that possible, Ergo?"

The Duke inquired of Ergo, the armorer and master blacksmith in charge of the armory. Ergo looked at me, scanning the mask I wore with the eyes of a craftsman from his seated position.

"Yes, it's not difficult. I just need to mold it according to the shape and size of the face that needs covering… But does the face inside the mask differ from the one you've revealed?"

His tone implied questioning the necessity of a new mask.

"If you need a mask that covers the entire face, that would be easier."

Hearing this, I slowly removed the half-mask that had been covering my original face.

I felt a wave of shame, as if I was being stripped bare in front of everyone. But now, I wanted to reveal my true face, to stand under the sun with my authentic self.

And perhaps, seeing the life I had to live, covering my unscarred face, might open their hearts a bit to me.

That hope overcame the shame.

I removed the mask and looked at Ergo.

"This is my real face."

Ergo gasped.

"What happened to you? Your original face is pretty, no, no, I mean, not unsightly."

Without realizing, he blurted out and then turned red, observing my right side, the side that was intact.

I felt a surge of emotion and had to fight back tears.

Quickly, I put the mask back on.

"I've lived like this all my life. The South deceived me into believing the disfigured side was my true face."

"How did you find out? How are you certain that the right side is your real face?"

The Duke's tone was cold.

His voice seemed to suppress something rising within him. He wasn't looking at me but had his head bowed.

"…I found out by chance. That's all I can say. I'm sorry."

My voice trembled involuntarily.

After a moment, Arcadia spoke.

"You'll be given a proper chance to prove yourself, so you better be prepared. Don't expect any leniency just because you seem frail."

"That's exactly what I want."

I managed a small smile.

Arcadia's expression had softened compared to before.

I followed the only person who had accepted me, the chief cook Mobius, to the mess tent.

The tent was a fully equipped kitchen, reminiscent of a grand castle's culinary department.

A huge, long grill that could cook steaks for dozens at once, expansive countertops where ingredients could be laid out without overlapping.

I saw a few soldiers prepping ingredients in front of the grill and countertops.

"Our cooks. Eating is what gives strength for battle. This place is the source of power for our knights, the core department of the Knights' Order, you could say."

The bear-like Mobius smiled brightly like a child. He shouted,

"We are the strongest in the empire!"

The young soldiers, looking bored, chanted in response, holding their knives high.

"Even in taste!! We are the Culinary Division!!"

Their perfectly timed chant suggested it wasn't their first time doing this routine.

"Bringing joy to the knights with delicious food, we are the 'sunshine of the Knights' Order.' Welcome, newbie. Your name was…"

"Estelle."

"Yes, Estelle. I am Mobius."

"Yes, Chef Mobius…"

Mobius's eyes twinkled, expecting a particular form of address.

"Chief Cook?"

"Chief Cook… not bad. But I wouldn't mind a bit more flair in the title."

Not enough? Challenging.

After pondering, I said,

"The strongest… Chief Cook?"

"Ha ha, I like that! But I prefer being called Mobius Colonel."

"Colonel?"

"Yes. Our Knights' Order is led by the Duke, with Knight Nugent as the Vice-Captain, followed by several colonels. I used to be a colonel myself, serving under the previous Duke, roaming the battlefields."

Mobius's eyes grew solemn as he reminisced about the past. He rolled up the long sleeves covering his thick forearms, revealing burnt, melted red flesh. It seemed the damage wasn't just limited to his arm.

"!"

"I almost died after being hit by an oil-soaked fire arrow. The previous Duke saved me. Unfortunately, I lost much of my strength and couldn't wield a sword anymore, but it led me to discover the new world of cooking. Miss Estelle, or should I say, Estelle, you too should take heart."

Mobius was kind. His eyes looked at my face.

I see.

That's why he accepted me. He must have thought the right side of my face was also scarred by burns.

"Thank you, Colonel Mobius."

"Ha ha, sure."

Someone else's kindness still felt unfamiliar.

But this unfamiliar warmth spread gently within my heart.

"I hope, as the Duke said, that your face is the result of black magic and not a burn. Burns are too painful."

At his words, I smiled nonchalantly. I wasn't sure how to respond to his concern.

Yet, a warmth thawed my frozen heart. What is this feeling?

"When we return to the North, I'll ask Adrian to examine you. If it's magic, maybe it can be healed."

I remembered what the Duke had said earlier.

[We'll know more once we return to the North and have Adrian look at it.]

Could this Adrian determine why my face is like this?

"Who is this Adrian, if I may ask?"

"Huh? Adrian? He's the greatest magician in the North, no, in the entire Empire."

"Is that so."

I found myself longing for the North, strangely enough.

In my past life, I had been to the North. After Arcadia's death, I went there to kill his successor, Brandt Ofellet, and disband the Knights' Order.

Back then, I achieved my goal.

But now, I'm heading there to protect the North.

A tiny hope sprouts in a heart that doesn't deserve happiness. My heart races.

Mobius declared enthusiastically,

"Let's find something you can do well, Estelle!"

"Gosh!"

I froze, holding a huge piece of radish. Pale-faced Mobius trembled, pointing at the radish I had sliced.

"Are you trying to kill this radish? I said to chop it coarsely, but if you smash it this finely, what am I supposed to do with it? This precious radish, meant to add a refreshing taste to a warm soup, turned to powder!"

"I'm sorry. I thought making it easier to chew would be better."

"There's no one in the Knights' Order with dentures! No one's missing teeth either!"

Mobius, looking despondent, ran off with the radish I had sliced, or rather, crushed. He then tossed it into a giant paper box that reached the tent's ceiling.

"Are you throwing it away?"

"No, reviving it. Though I'm not sure if it'll work. I've never tried to restore an ingredient so brutally damaged."

"…"

A moment later, the box's door opened. Inside was the revived radish half.

How is this possible?

Stunned, I turned to Mobius.

"Aha, as expected of Adrian."

"Is this magic?"

"Magic, indeed. This isn't just any box; it's a magical refrigerator that restores spoiled ingredients. Light as paper, easy to carry, and essential on the battlefield."

Fascinating.

Mobius suggested,

"Since you seem to lack talent in preparing ingredients, how about grilling steaks?"

I nodded vigorously.

I was confident in grilling meat.

To survive as an assassin, I often had to camp out and cook hunted animals over a fire, even in desolate places.

Grilling should be easy…

"Gosh!"

Mobius cried out again.

The steaks for the knights were larger than I expected, making it challenging to cook them evenly. The grill's heat was also different from an outdoor campfire.

In the end, I burnt a large piece of steak to a crisp.

The steak went back to the magical refrigerator, but it couldn't be fully restored.

"I'm sorry."

"It can't be helped. I'll have to eat it after trimming off the burnt parts," Mobius said with a disappointed face.

"No! I will eat it. It's my fault."

I couldn't bear the thought of Mobius eating it on my behalf. I quickly snatched the blackened steak from his hand.

If I had been a normal princess, I would have referred to the Northern knights as my people. One of their precious meals was ruined by me. I felt guilty.

Watching me, Colonel Mobius muttered to himself.

"Estelle, what can I assign you to do? Fetching water might be too hard."

"I can do it."

"That, that's alright. You don't have to right now. We've fetched plenty. Serving… might that be too much?"

"I can do it! And that… what about slicing large meats with a knife? I can use a sword well, so…"

"A kitchen knife and a sword are different. We can't waste good meat."

Mobius spoke firmly.

Eventually, I was assigned to serving.

The evening menu included goose steak and a vegetable soup with radish to aid digestion.

Together with Mobius and another soldier, I managed to carry over a hundred dishes filled with food.

Fortunately, my strength and core power as a Sword Master allowed me to carry multiple plates without spilling a drop of soup.

Mobius seemed pleased with my performance.

"We've found your talent."

The last place to deliver food was the Duke's tent.

It was a specially prepared course meal by Mobius.

"The Duke has been weakened by poison. We must serve it warm and fresh."

Steamy special vegetable soup. A steak tenderly cooked at low temperatures by Mobius. And a dessert made from precious fruits, rare on the battlefield.

I followed Mobius, carrying various dishes, to the Duke's tent. Arcadia stood outside. He asked:

"The food was prepared by Colonel Mobius, right?"

"Yes, as always."

Arcadia glanced at me and then called into the tent.

"Your Grace, may I bring in the food?"

"Did Mobius come alone?"

The Duke's voice was heard. Mobius replied.

"It's me and that Estelle girl. You asked her to serve, remember? Oh, and if you have any laundry, please hand it over."

"Come in."

Arcadia reluctantly opened the tent entrance.

I followed Mobius inside.

A small, portable stove emitted a warm light in one corner of the vast green carpet.

It was a spacious tent.

On the opposite side of the stove was a white birch desk laden with numerous documents. It seemed like the Duke's workspace.

Next to the desk was a neatly arranged long bed.

The Duke stood leaning against the desk, dressed in casual clothes rather than his silver armor.

We set the food on the long table at the center of the tent. Even after finishing the setup, Mobius remained standing beside the table, so I too stayed by his side.

The Duke still leaned against the desk.

"Mobius, something to say?"

"No, just watching you eat makes me feel at ease."

"A very appetizing meal. You must have worked hard."

At the Duke's kind words, Mobius lifted his nose slightly and smiled.

"May I eat slowly? I have much to think about."

"Of course."

I followed Mobius to leave, but the Duke called me.

"Estelle, stay here. I need you."

Startled, Arcadia said:

"I can serve too. And you usually don't like being waited on."

"I have something to ask her. Everyone else can leave."

"Then I'll be outside."

Arcadia left with a displeased look, along with Mobius.

When we were left alone, the Duke stood up straight, and I realized just how tall he was.

I guessed my eyes would be at the level of his chest if we stood face to face…

Embarrassed by this thought, my cheeks flushed.

'Why?'

I bowed my head and stood beside the table, ready to serve.

I heard the Duke quietly sit down. After a moment, he asked, "Have you eaten?"

"No, not yet."

I had not eaten, but after saying it out loud, I thought it might make him uncomfortable, so I quickly added, "Yes."

"Huh?"

"Ah… Not yet. I'll eat after finishing my work."

"How about… eating together?"

"Me, with you?"

Startled, I looked at him. The Duke spoke in his usual calm and low tone.

"It's embarrassing to eat alone, so let's eat together."

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly."

"Is there an empty plate?"

"Pardon?"

"I don't usually eat much, but Mobius always frets about me not eating enough."

The Duke smiled genuinely.

'I almost never see him smile. So he smiles like that.'

It felt like a cool winter breeze blowing away.

The Duke looked at me.

"There's too much for dinner. Let's share. Hand me an empty plate, and I'll serve some."

"No, thank you."

"…That's disappointing."

"Pardon?"

"If it's not your intention to make me overeat and feel sick, then let's eat together."

"I don't intend that. I'll wait till you finish eating. Oh, and if you have laundry, I can take it too."

As I rambled, my stomach growled loudly. My face turned red with embarrassment.

In the Southern Duke's house, all I ever had was a few dry pieces of bread.

The food in front of me looked truly delicious.

After serving and trying unfamiliar kitchen work, I was also hungry.

But I couldn't just sit down at the table.

I declined again, but the Duke said, "I don't know what kind of food you ate in the dungeons of Rahert, but this must be better."

He began to divide the hot vegetable soup onto an empty plate.

"I can do it!"

In my haste, I tripped over the table leg and lost my balance.

My face neared the table.

A mistake impossible for a Sword Master. Was it because I was too nervous in the presence of the Duke I had reunited with?

I twisted my body to avoid the soup, especially towards the Duke. Another quick turn, a reaction only possible for an assassin. Better to fall into the soup than on the Duke.

But the Duke abandoned the soup bowl and caught me.

The suspended soup fell onto his body. I found myself atop the Duke's chest.

I frantically tried to brush off the vegetable soup soaking his clothes. His large hand stopped mine. My hand was caught in his.

"Is this some kind of new assassination technique?" he asked.

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This novel has been translated up to chapter 66.

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