Chapter 11
Chilled Soup
During her shift that night, Sena happened to spot the prince several times at the bar, and each time she had to avert her gaze.
She did so carefully, trying not to give him any reason to feel uncomfortable.
It was common for members of the royal family to use the bar on the top floor.
This resort was located close to the border with the Empire.
When traveling between the Empire and the Kingdom, the royal capital—almost on the opposite side from the imperial capital—was several hundred kilometers from this hotel.
Stopping here, midway on the journey, to stay overnight was standard practice.
The Crown Prince Robert was said to be twenty years old.
Though only two years older than her, he was already at the very heart of power, poised to become the next king.
Meanwhile, she had been thrust out from the center of it all at the age of fourteen, when she understood nothing of the world.
Thinking of it that way, she couldn’t help feeling a mix of envy and resentment toward the privilege of his life.
…No, that’s not right. She couldn’t indulge in ugly jealousy. She had to focus on work.
With that, Sena turned her attention to preparing the dessert she was told to make in the kitchen.
Today’s dish was a chilled peach soup with mint gelatin.
“The peaches don’t need to stay perfectly intact. Make sure to strain them well. Be precise.”
“Yes, understood.”
Although the bar had a kitchen, there was no head chef as in a restaurant.
Two cooks worked alternating shifts, and the waitresses helped prepare the daily dessert before the bar opened.
The cook, who had once worked at a top hotel in the Empire, took out a dozen or so perfectly chilled peaches and showed Sena where the other ingredients—mint, yogurt, and so on—were kept.
“Have you made this soup before?”
“I’ve practiced a few times since last week.”
“Good. Then I’ll leave it to you. Don’t mess up.”
“Yes.”
Cooks were stricter than either the waitstaff or the linen department.
The heat of the moment and the method of preparation had an immediate effect on the taste.
In that sense, the linen department manager, Baldo, was far scarier than any of them.
He wouldn’t raise a hand at her, but still…
“Peaches, mint, honey, yogurt… strainer, milk… and gelatin.”
At first, Sena needed a written note to remember all the items required from the magical refrigerator and shelves, but now she didn’t.
She carefully peeled the peaches with a paring knife, making sure not to cut herself.
She removed the pits with the tip of a knife.
With a dozen or so peaches, it took considerable time.
Finally, when she set down the paring knife, Robert was no longer in view from the kitchen.
Relieved that there was one less person to watch out for, Sena exhaled.
Since Mia had approached her about the masquerade, her naturally cautious mind had been troubled—wondering if it was really okay for her to attend a ball held to find a bride for His Highness.
She wasn’t indulging in romantic daydreams about being spoken to.
The very real fear was the risk of losing her job.
“Mint… just the leaves.”
Sena plucked only the leaves from the strong-smelling peppermint, placed them in a container, poured hot water over them, and covered it to extract the aroma fully.
Once the water turned a transparent green, she removed the lid and strained out the fibers.
While still warm, she added gelatin and covered it again, placing it in the magical refrigerated device cooled by ice magic.
Once chilled and set, the mint jelly was complete.
Meanwhile, she continued preparing the peach mixture.
If done efficiently, it took less than thirty minutes.
She had to work quickly or risk neglecting the dining room service.
All the chopped peaches went into a magical blender with milk, a pinch of salt, yogurt, and honey, then were pureed and strained.
After removing the fibers, more milk was added to reach a consistency similar to tomato juice.
The smooth soup was then chilled in the magical refrigerator alongside the jelly and poured into deep glass bowls.
Ice and mint were scattered inside, and the peach soup was poured to the brim without overflowing.
Two teaspoons of the mint jelly were added on top, and fresh mint leaves were used as garnish.
The chilled peach soup was complete.
This dessert would refresh the palate after oily pasta or fish dishes.
Sena covered the containers with glass lids and arranged them on trays in the magical refrigerator—four layers, thirty servings per layer, totaling 120 servings.
This dessert was the weekly standard, so she made extra to last a few days.
Although the peaches would spoil quickly, they would be discarded by the morning of the day after tomorrow.
“Desserts are ready. They’re chilling in the fridge.”
“Good work… Hmm, you seem unusually cheerful.”
“Eh? Do I?”
“Did you get a big tip or something?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.”
It was just past seven p.m., but the bar had just opened and would stay busy until 2 a.m.
Sena was scheduled to stay until after midnight.
“Tch.”
“What’s wrong?”
“An unpleasant person just arrived…”
Following the cook’s muttered direction, Sena saw the linen department manager and his superior, Baldo, drinking with another woman at a table.
She recognized the back of the third person.
“Kati…”
“Someone you know?”
“She’s a colleague… from the linen department. Supposed to be on leave due to injury…”
“The accident?”
“…Yes.”
The middle-aged cook snorted in displeasure.
“Common scene anywhere,” he muttered, guiding Sena into the kitchen before the three noticed them.
“Anything else? The desserts are done.”
“You won’t be leaving here tonight.”
“Huh?”
Sena frowned.
Did he mean she should help in the kitchen?
If so, she wanted at least to change her outfit.
In her service uniform, oil stains would make it impossible to serve customers properly.
Noticing her concern, the cook, wearing a name tag reading Loasso, handed her an apron.
“Word’s out about the incident two days ago. That idiot Baldo kicked a female subordinate repeatedly.”
“….”
“No one’s saying it was you. No one thinks it was your fault.”
“Thank you…”
“This kitchen is my domain. I run this bar. That’s how I contracted with the owner. The imperial prince, you understand?”
“No… not at all.”
Sena shook her head helplessly.
Loasso responded with a confident, heroic smile.
“As long as you’re here, you’re my subordinate. Anyone who hits women is a scum, and drunk, they’re reckless. You could be in danger. That’s why you stay here tonight. Do the washing, pass the time. Got it?”
“Yes… thank you.”
“Right person for the right place. You’re skilled as a waitress taking orders, serving food, attending tables. That makes you perfectly useful in the kitchen. So tonight, stay here.”
Sena felt tears threaten to spill at the cook’s kindness.
Tonight had been a night full of unexpected warmth from many people.
