Chapter 11 

His eyebrows twitched slightly.

“Lady Evanroar seems to really enjoy short commands, doesn’t she? First it was ‘Shake it.’ Now it’s ‘Eat.’ I feel like I’m a dog trained by the Rattle Princess.”

“I think your eardrums are installed wrong. I clearly said, ‘Please eat.’ Very politely, too.”

“Unfortunately, your tone wasn’t polite at all.”

“Then maybe you need to clean your ears. I used an extremely respectful tone.”

Dazhar smiled kindly.

For a moment, the elegant, aristocratic Duke shimmered through.

Seeing him dressed so casually while smiling like that… it was bizarrely mismatched.

“If only you were a demon.”

“…”

“You’re definitely a demon, right? Just admit it.”

“Beep. I’m human.”

“…A shame. If you were a demon, I would’ve already rolled your head over there.”

I frowned hard and snapped the spoon toward him.

“Stop talking nonsense and just eat.”

He glanced at my face, smirked, and nudged the spoon with the back of his hand.

“You try it first.”

“…Sorry? Why me? ”

“What if that white stuff is poisoned? How would I know? ”

“Oh. Wow.”

This guy is gifted—gifted—at irritating people.

A natural-born specialist in getting on my nerves.

‘Does he get assassination threats or something? ’

Given his rank and fame, it wasn’t impossible.

I shrugged and tipped the spoon so the rice fell into my mouth without my lips touching it.
One spoon only. Sharing mouth germs with this madman? Absolutely not.

“There. Satisfied? ”

Only then did Dazhar scoop up some rice. He stared at it for a long moment like it was something suspicious.

Slowly, very slowly, he brought it to his mouth…
Then, exactly like I did, he let it fall from the spoon without letting it touch his lips.

It was funny.
Well—people do tend to imitate others when trying unfamiliar food.

He chewed slowly, working his jaw with exaggerated care. His eyes blinked twice.

Then—he took a bigger spoonful.

With a slightly dazed look, he muttered,

“…What was this called? ”

“Rice.”

He took another bite, chewed, and spoke between mouthfuls.

“It feels stickier than Miar. But since it’s in separate grains, the tongue has to work harder. Annoying to chew.”

“…”

Another bite.

“Ahem. But the more I chew…”

“It tastes good, right? ”

“…”

He tossed the spoon down lightly and looked away.

“…Yes, it tastes good.”

Huh.
Was that his ear turning a bit red?

He quickly picked up the spoon again and kept eating, faster and faster.
He only stopped when the bowl was nearly empty.

Then he leaned back and exhaled, as if full—and made a strange face.

Almost like he himself couldn’t understand why he liked it.

‘What’s with him? ’

I quietly placed the rice stalk I brought on the table.

After a moment of silence, Dazhar tapped the armrest and spoke.

“How long does it take to grow this? ”

His eyes were fixed on the rice stalk.

Smart man—he’d already figured out that this plant became the white rice he’d just eaten.

“Usually you farm it for a year. You plant the seeds in spring and harvest in late summer or autumn.”

“Similar to Miar.”

“Well, yes.”

Working undercover as “Aksion’s mom” in the viscounty, I learned that common people also ate Miar as their staple.

I had wondered if they ate things like corn instead—but sadly, this continent has no corn.

“Rice is more nutritious than Miar. And while Miar needs to be ground by windmills or mills, rice doesn’t need that. It’s a very efficient food overall.”

“You know a lot.”

“…Thanks to my ‘eccentric hobby.’”

I glanced away, then gave up and kept talking.

Earlier he looked impressed, but now he’d gone quiet again. It made me nervous.

“Depending on how much you polish it, you can make white rice or brown rice. White rice tastes best, but if you want more quantity, you can reduce the milling. You can also make porridge with it. And fermented, it becomes alcohol.”

Dazhar listened quietly.

“In short—it’s extremely versatile.”

“You’re very knowledgeable.”

“…I researched a lot.”

“No wonder you were a permanent valedictorian at the Academy.”

“…”

Right. He oddly knows a lot about this body.

Well, the original Cillia was brilliant academically.

He picked up the rice stalk and examined it.

“So, according to you, this plant has only benefits? ”

“Well…”

It actually had one very big drawback.

“It’s a bit more…”

“More…?”

“Uh… complicated to grow.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Miar grows even if you toss the seeds onto the ground. But with this, you need to plow the soil, control water levels, set up irrigation… adjust the water depending on the growth stage… oh! And before that, transplanting the seedlings…”

Why did rice take so much work again?

Just explaining it made sweat gather on my forehead.

“I see. Then we need a training process. Good.”

Good??
What does he mean by “good”? I stared suspiciously.

He clapped his hands lightly.

“I’ll prepare land in the Siastor territory. Grow it there.”

… Excuse me?

I wrinkled my face.

“Wasn’t the deal that giving you the food source was enough? ”

He chuckled.

“You think food magically distributes itself across the Empire the moment you hand it over? ”

“So the ‘I’ll give you what you want’ meant…”

“When you produce enough food to satisfy me—I’ll give you anything.”

“…Anything?”

“Anything.”

My eyebrows sank deeply.
Anything??

“Anything I ask for? ”

“Yes. If it’s something I can give.”

And suddenly—

A great idea hit me.

Money wasn’t the only important thing.

‘If I lock in the in-law relationship early…’

Then Aksion and Vanilla could meet as babies.
They could grow up together and naturally develop feelings.

‘Like the saying—contract first, romance later.’

This food crisis was huge. He might accept something absurd, right?

My brain spun in excitement.

“Then I’ll say it now.”

“Go ahead.”

He gestured casually.

I swallowed hard.

“I want to arrange a marr—”

“Mar—?”

Right then, a scene from the original flashed through my head.

Didn’t Aksion get unknowingly engaged to some merchant’s daughter at one point?

And Aksion had said…

‘You decided my engagement without asking me. Since you saved me long ago, I’ll repay you by killing you painlessly.’

“KEH—! Cough cough! ”

“What?”

Dazhar raised an eyebrow.

‘Wait. No. That path removes Aksion’s freedom of choice. He might chop me up like that merchant.’

Better to let love grow naturally and support it later.

I nodded heavily.

Yes. That was safer.

I blurted out a different request.

“I need money.”

“Money? A moment ago you seemed ready to ask for something else.”

“U-um. I think it’s better to take our time… watch things unfold… you know…”

“?”

He tilted his head.

Then shrugged.

“Fine. Surprisingly modest. I thought you’d ask for something dramatic. Like my head.”

“…”

Why does he assume I’m like him?

He snickered at my potato-like expression.

“Well. Then move into the Siastor mansion soon.”

“…What?”

He looked at me like I was the strange one.

“You’re planning to commute? ”

“But… moving residences is a bit…”

Siastor and Evanroar territories were far apart—it took a full day of travel.
If I moved, Aksion would have to come too…

And after how Dazhar handled Aksion that day?
I did NOT want him anywhere near my baby yet.

Then he leaned close, voice low.

“You must really enjoy suffering. What an interesting taste. Should I torment you? ”

“Sorry, but I prefer doing the tormenting.”

“…Huh?”

“Please prepare a room with lots of sunlight.”

He blinked at my immediate comeback, then unexpectedly hesitated—
He fidgeted.
Fidgeted.

What the heck? Creepy.

While I stared, he turned his head slightly and muttered:

“And sometimes… I want you to make that rice again.”

Then, under his breath—

“…for testing purposes.”