Chapter 14
Just then, Catherine rose to greet the customers.
“Welcome.”
She glanced at Elle and added, “Finish your tea before you go, alright?”
Her tone wasn’t particularly warm, but Elle could feel the unspoken kindness behind the words—an understanding of her unease.
That was always how Catherine was.
With her impassive face and measured voice, she somehow managed to show deep.
Ever since Elle had bought an embroidery piece from her for one silver coin, the price had dropped to ten bronze coins the next time, of course.
“Mind if I look around the shop a little?”
“Please, take your time, Miss Baroness.”
Elle knew the deliberate use of “Baroness”. As the other young ladies glanced her way, it was Catherine’s subtle way of announcing her noble status.
With a smile, Elle relaxed and browsed the shop’s treasures.
In this place frequented by noble ladies, she had inadvertently learned about noble lifestyles.
It was here she first heard that Pilate the Wizard was all the rage, though she had already been reading the book.
When a cluster of young noblewomen wandered in, chatting and examining the merchandise, Elle quietly stepped aside.
She had no intention of disrupting Catherine’s business.
The ladies exchanged friendly gossip.
“Did you hear? The Crown Prince is hosting a party soon.”
“They haven’t announced the date yet, but I’m curious.”
“Of course, both His Highness and the Princess will attend.”
“And, listen to this—”
One lowered her voice, drawing the others close.
“Duke Kalen Elias will be there, too.”
“Oh my!”
Their startled faces flushed with excitement at the mention of a familiar name.
Elle’s ears perked up.
A noble party… and Kalen attending… So that’s where he will find a marriage match, isn’t it?
But then, why…
Why am I wasting time reading love letters?
Muttering to herself, Elle suddenly sensed sharp eyes on her and turned to see three young ladies giving her strange looks.
It seemed that her thoughts had escaped her lips.
Her cheeks burning, Elle smiled awkwardly and headed toward the door.
“Well then, take care, Catherine.”
“Goodbye, Miss.”
Elle ignored them, though their looks were still strange, and went outside.
Though she left without finding anything, she had hoped to overhear something helpful for reading letters.
She still had time.
With a little while before meeting John, Elle decided to stroll through the town square—a bustling spot perfect for catching snippets of conversation, just like The Young Lady’s Little Drawer.
Reaching a vantage point overlooking the square, she let out a soft sigh.
“It’s not just the language of noblewomen—he struggles with basic vocabulary. I can’t even tell where to start.”
She resolved to store every piece of information, no matter how random.
Maybe something will stick.
***
Skipping his morning exercise, Kalen arrived early at the royal palace to attend the Crown Prince’s breakfast meeting.
Prince Randol, who governed the kingdom in place of the ailing king, was a capable heir apparent.
But he’s too timid, and his support base is weak—if those are flaws.
A few years ago, he shared a support base similar to Princess Ruena’s, but after the sudden death of the Crown Princess a year ago, his popularity plummeted.
Now, Ruena’s support was stronger.
In contrast, Ruena was a remarkably competent ruler in the making.
Compared to the hesitant Randol, she was decisive, cool-headed, and possessed a sharp intellect.
In terms of ability alone, Ruena was far more fitting as a future monarch.
Today’s breakfast meeting was an attempt by the shy prince to make his presence known in the shadow of his more capable sister.
Upon arriving at the venue, Kalen composed himself and greeted Randol with proper respect.
“It’s been a while, Duke Kalen Elias.”
“Indeed, Your Highness, the Crown Prince.”
Kalen nodded politely to Randol, then shifted his gaze to Jeil, who had risen from his seat and bowed his head.
“Welcome, Duke Kalen Elias.”
“Greetings, Marquis Jeil Healy.”
Jeil, with his short platinum hair swept back, wore a friendly smile.
Even though he was well into his mid-forties, he had eyes that were as sharp as those of much younger men.
That pleasant smile masked something far more venomous—a blade hidden in silk.
Kallen was third in line to the throne.
Depending on where his loyalties fell, whose favour could decide the next monarch.
Should he back Randol, the prince’s claim would strengthen.
Should he side with Ruena, the princess’s chances would rise.
Or, defying them both, Kalen himself might seize the crown.
A man of such standing was shrouded in mystery; though outwardly he claimed no allegiance, no one truly knew his intentions.
As more nobles filtered into the room, Randol called the gathering to order.
“Well, now that everyone is here, let us begin our meal.”
Viscount Boyle took his seat and joked with a chuckle, “At my age, I find myself dizzy before breakfast. Ha ha ha.”
“That’s not so old, is it?”
“Old enough—my eldest daughter is already of marriageable age, after all. Ha ha ha.”
While speaking, Boyle sneaked a glance at Kalen—the man who had captured his daughter Wendy’s heart.
Initially interested in Leo Healy, Jeil’s heir, Wendy had shifted her affections when she learnt Leo was courting Princess Ruena.
Without hesitation, she had sent a love letter to Kalen.
Boyle didn’t like romantic relationships, but what about Baron Leo Healy or Duke Kalen Elias? He would have been more than happy to make an exception.
Leo Healy marrying Princess Ruena to inherit the throne would be fine, but Wendy’s marrying Kalen wouldn’t be bad either.
Better to have the king’s father-in-law than just a loyal vassal.
Kalen was third in line, after all.
If anything were to happen to Randol or Euena, he could easily rise to the throne.
And you never know what might happen in life.
Boyle, with his cunning mind concealed behind a genial smile, began to eat.
Light chatter floated through the room as wine glasses were continuously refilled.
With a flushed face from the wine, Boyle addressed Randol.
“Your Highness, shouldn’t you consider a new engagement? Securing your position through marriage would ease the minds of your subjects—and ours—as we would then fully trust and support you.”
A bold statement that suggests the prince’s weak claim to the throne.
Randol winced a little and then gave a small smile in response.
“I am considering it. In fact, I plan to hold a party next month, on the first anniversary of the late Duchess’s passing, and invite the young ladies.”
“Ah, I see.”
“You, Viscount Boyle, also have a marriageable daughter, don’t you?”
“Indeed, Wendy’s. It is time.”
“I hope Miss Wendy’s Edgar will attend the party as well.”
Boyle’s cheerful tone gradually faded.
Two years ago, Randol had been engaged to a noble daughter from a respected but minor house.
About one year ago, she died suddenly under mysterious circumstances.
Many suspected poisoning, even though the official cause of death was stated as illness.
The Marquis Healy was rumoured to be involved.
Yet no one dared voice the suspicion aloud—few would dare challenge the powerful Healy family.
influence that even rivals Elias’s.
A cold tension filled the dining room.
No one spoke.
Savouring the flavour, Kalen sliced into his cabbage roll.
“Delicious,” he said plainly.
The cold air broke as Kalen’s calm voice filled the room.
Randol looked toward Kalen.
“The filling is good, but the cabbage wrapping is what truly makes it taste exceptional.”
“Since it’s something you often eat, you might not notice, but is it that good?” someone asked.
Departing from his usual brevity, Kalen explained.
“Minced meat and vegetables alone won’t hold together. Even if you bind them with an egg, they’ll eventually fall apart during cooking. But wrap them in cabbage and steam them, and even if you cut them, the filling stays intact.”
Randol and others examined their rolls, cutting them to test the truth in Kalen’s words.
It was a common dish, often served, but no one had considered the technique before.
Kalen continued in his even tone.
“The quality of the cabbage elevates the taste, and the ingredients inside…”
The cabbage roll held everything together so perfectly that it fulfilled its purpose without a single crumb falling apart.
When you add the cream sauce on top, it’s clear that the flavours are superb.
Truly, the royal chef’s skill is unmatched.”
With a faint smile—rarely seen on his usually stoic face—Kalen finished speaking and took another bite of the cabbage roll.
Viscount Boyle stirred his roll with his fork and muttered under his breath, “Cabbage rolls are just cabbage rolls, after all.”
Most of the nobles shrugged it off, but Jeil’s expression hardened noticeably.
Kalen’s words weren’t just about food; they were a subtle critique of Prince Randol’s leadership.
The minced meat represented the nobles, the chopped vegetables symbolised the common folk, the egg stood for the clergy, and finally, the cabbage wrapping signified the king.
The message was clear: the strength of the king—the cabbage—was what held all the people of Eneritten together.
“Is he saying that he supports the Crown Prince?”
It was still uncertain.
It would be dangerous to make snap judgments and assume Kalen’s intentions.
Determined to find out Kalen’s true feelings as soon as possible, Jeil raised his wine glass.
