Chapter 67
“The Lightness of the Maple Leaf”:
“But what exactly is a social gathering where you cook and read books?”
Sir Matisse clearly had no idea. After a few questions, Sir Diego answered everything, so now Matisse no longer felt burdened by answering anything I asked. He simply observed Dandelion’s group with a look of amazement.
I turned my head and looked at Dandelion’s small group of friends.
Dandelion rolled up his sleeves, declaring he would showcase cuisine from the Ten Duchies.
It seemed there was another member of the group from the Ten Duchies, and judging by his comments, Dandelion appeared to be preparing the food incorrectly.
He either added ingredients wrong or slightly burnt the dishes, yet he laughed heartily all the same. I thought that for Dandelion, cooking must be more about the process than the taste. When I said this, his friends let out exclamations of frustration, teasing him loudly.
Apart from the two knights and me, there were only six of them, yet the noise was so loud it felt like the pillars on the first floor might shake.
Dandelion’s friends spoke in a tone very similar to his. I began to understand faintly where Dandelion’s casual, unrestrained speech style came from.
His friends didn’t bother to talk to me directly. They occasionally glanced my way and smiled fondly.
I wondered if these were the same people Dandelion had told my story to before. It seemed possible, but also not. Somehow, I felt Dandelion had a larger circle of close friends elsewhere.
After giving all the dishes he made to his friends, Dandelion came to me with a dish prepared by someone else. He said it was from the Ten Duchies.
The cuisine from the Ten Duchies, neighboring Owen, was intense. Just like Owen’s food, it was spicy and stimulating. I only tasted a bit and put down my fork, worried that eating too much would upset my stomach.
I worried slightly that I might appear like a fussy princess. Seeing me react to the spiciness, Dandelion let out a hearty laugh.
“Princess, in the Ten Duchies, someone who can’t handle spicy food is said to have a baby palate.”
“Are you calling a lady a baby palate now?”
“Forgive me, Princess! That is exactly what I intend! Ha ha ha!”
It was an outrageous rudeness—but somehow, I didn’t feel offended. Dandelion laughed, clutching his stomach, thoroughly enjoying himself.
“Princess Daisy has a baby palate!”
Seeing Dandelion continue to laugh, I found myself laughing as well. The unease I had felt from the food slowly faded.
I laughed without knowing why. The two knights covered their mouths, pretending not to laugh.
“What kind of food do you like, Princess?”
Dandelion asked after collecting himself.
“I like sweet and savory dishes. Of course, Rundra-style is the best, but I don’t dislike the milder cuisine of Lorneis either.”
Dandelion smiled. He extended his clenched fist, and I opened my palm.
From his pocket, he placed a single maple leaf into my hand.
He said nothing, smiling brightly as he met my gaze, before turning back to his group of friends.
The group murmured among themselves, and a man with a scarf around his neck stood and headed to the kitchen. Dandelion picked up a ladle and resumed cooking, while the scarfed man supervised beside him.
I twirled the tip of the maple leaf between my fingers. It was beautifully red and perfectly matured.
Soon, the scarfed man brought a large pot to our table. A bubbling sound came from the closed lid.
With gloved hands, he lifted the lid to reveal a tomato seafood stew.
“You’ve finished it with herbs and olive oil,” I observed.
“I’m glad you noticed, Princess,” the man said with a smile.
He introduced himself as a minor noble from the Kingdom of Lorneis and mentioned that he currently traveled around, writing travelogues.
He served the stew into my bowl. I took a spoonful and immediately recognized the taste from Rundra. I clapped softly in approval.
“You’re an excellent cook!”
“It’s an honor to receive your recognition, Princess.”
The scarfed man bowed in the Rundra style. I returned the greeting and invited him to sit. He said he would stay a while.
“Dandelion is a strange fellow, Princess,” the scarfed man said.
“Are you referring to Count Axel beside you?” I asked.
“He knows it himself. That he is both strange and extraordinarily charming,” he replied with a smile, glancing at Dandelion. Dandelion laughed heartily in response.
“He gives his best to get what he wants, and he easily lets go of what he has,” the man continued.
“Is that so?” I tilted my head.
“He and I were senior and junior at the Lorneis Magical Engineering Lab. People only say he’s a genius, but without his effort, Dandelion could not have achieved all that he has.”
I finished the stew quickly.
“I was jealous. Dandelion, a genius, studied day and night. I didn’t want to be outdone, so I threw myself into my own research.”
I listened intently to the scarfed man’s story.
“Then one day, Dandelion told me to stop my research.”
“Why?”
“That I had no talent.”
I covered my mouth in surprise and glanced at Dandelion, who merely smiled brightly while the story unfolded.
“He told me to travel. Since my family had wealth, he said I should just spend it freely while traveling.”
“How unexpected,” I said.
After Sir Matisse finished his stew, Dandelion refilled his bowl.
“I wanted to strike back, but he said…” The man swallowed discreetly.
“He knew I was good at writing. He knew I felt stifled in the lab. He told me to live as I pleased.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Even my move from the countryside to Lorneis’s capital was because I was tired of provincial life.”
“I see!”
“Even becoming a researcher—I just wanted a respectable occupation. In Lorneis, being a researcher is one of the most prestigious jobs.”
The scarfed man spoke casually, sharing deep thoughts in a non-confessional tone.
“At the time, I wasn’t ready to follow Dandelion’s advice. I thought it presumptuous to interfere in someone else’s life without understanding. I held back my fists. Only much later did I realize Dandelion himself lived by the very words he gave me.”
I looked at Dandelion again. Our eyes met immediately. He rested his chin on one hand, smiling broadly.
“You mean living as Count Axel rather than as Sodante?”
I addressed Dandelion directly, since it was his story. He shrugged. The scarfed man answered:
“I heard he is the only legitimate heir of the Sodante family.”
My eyes widened.
“Yes. I am the only child of the Grand Duke and his consort. I don’t see why it matters, but everyone treats it as important. Ha ha ha!”
Dandelion leaned back, laughing heartily. I couldn’t hide my surprise, meeting the scarfed man’s eyes.
Historically, the rulers of the three kingdoms invited only one spouse.
Over time, as small states emerged and disappeared, unique cultures developed, and some kingdoms allowed multiple spouses. The Ten Duchies seemed to be one such nation.
It was not a large, powerful, or historically long-standing country. I only knew the current Grand Duchess’s name, Cecilia Sodante, and her portrait.
So I wasn’t aware of political matters concerning legitimate or illegitimate heirs. Yet, no matter the culture, a legitimate heir carries meaning.
The fact that the only heir of the Grand Duke of Ten Duchies lived abroad as a count was naturally astonishing.
“Dandelion is a strange person,” his friend said again. Even today, Sir Diego had called him strange. Their meanings were very different, yet I agreed with both.
Adding that he repaid a favor because he had been helped before, the scarfed man returned to his friends. Dandelion’s group continued their cheerful chatter.
“Princess, would you like to see the Grand Duke of Ten Duchies?”
“Pardon?”
I cupped my cheek with one hand. How did Dandelion always find such startling words?
“Rather than me becoming Grand Duke, wouldn’t it be better for you to be involved with me as Count Axel?”
“Oh.”
My emotions cooled immediately.
