Chapter 50
“Of course. My mom taught me a long time ago. I’ve never used such a nice tool before, though.”
Fortunately, Miela was quite skilled with things like paintbrushes and kitchen tools. While she wasn’t used to the oven that could regulate temperature through magic, she quickly adapted after pressing a few buttons.
“I see. I’ll stand by just in case. Please call me if you need anything.”
Even after watching her deft handling, the head chef couldn’t help but worry and continued to observe her closely. At that moment, Miela earnestly asked:
“Oh, and please make sure Eastin doesn’t hear about me baking a pie. Please, I’m begging you!”
“Yes, of course. However, I will have to tell the madam. If I don’t, I might get in trouble.”
“That’s fine. Just make sure Titi doesn’t find out.”
All Miela had borrowed was a small section of the kitchen.
Still, the chefs inside couldn’t take their eyes off her as she busily moved around, diligently gathering ingredients and preparing them. Watching a tiny child do all this with such earnestness was endearing and fascinating.
“Ugh… The edges are all burnt…”
But despite her enthusiasm, the result left much to be desired. Truthfully, Miela hadn’t made that many dishes in her life.
At most, she could throw ingredients into a pot and boil up a stew, or mix old flour with water and bake some basic bannock. That was the extent of her experience.
‘Is this the recipe Mom taught me? What if I’m remembering it wrong?’
Miela was frustrated that things weren’t going the way she wanted. She even began to lose the confidence she had in herself. Her dream had always been to bake an apple pie as delicious as the one her mom used to make. Would she ever be able to achieve that dream?
“Young Miss, it’s better to bake at a moderate temperature than using too high a heat.”
“Oh! I see! Thank you for the tip!”
Luckily, the watching head chef offered his help. After some trial and error, a fairly decent-looking apple pie was completed. It was golden brown and filled the air with a sweet and savory aroma.
“Oh, this one looks nicely baked.”
The head chef’s eyes widened at the sight of the pie fresh from the oven. Feeling proud, Miela carefully offered it to him.
“Um, Head Chef… Would you like to try a bite?”
“Ho ho, I won’t refuse. What an honor to taste a pie made by the young lady herself.”
He nodded with a smile. The other chefs, who had been watching from afar, also hurried over. They’d been secretly curious about the pie Miela had made.
“Young Miss, can I try too?”
“Me too!”
“All right. Let’s see… If I cut it like this, everyone can get a piece, right?”
Miela skillfully sliced the pie and handed out pieces to everyone. Those who tasted it soon gave her a thumbs up.
“This is delicious!”
“Perfectly baked with no undercooked bits!”
Encouraged by the better-than-expected reactions, Miela took a bite of her own creation.
But—
“…Huh? That’s strange. This doesn’t taste right.”
Miela frowned slightly. It wasn’t that it tasted bad—it just wasn’t the flavor she remembered. It wasn’t the nostalgic taste of the apple pie her mom used to make. She had used better ingredients and followed the recipe closely, so what was the problem?
“Pardon? What do you mean? This pie is excellent!”
“Seriously! It’s one of the best I’ve ever tasted!”
The surrounding chefs praised her again, genuinely confused. They weren’t flattering her—these were people who had dedicated their lives to cooking, and they recognized her effort and skill.
“Thank you all for saying that… but I’m still not satisfied.”
Miela mumbled with a downcast head. Of course, she wasn’t the type to give up.
“I think I need to practice a bit more. So, I’ll come back to the kitchen again tomorrow.”
“Of course!”
“We’ll clean and set up your space, so please come by anytime!”
And so, Miela continued returning to the kitchen day after day, using her spare time to bake apple pies.
What she didn’t realize, however, was that Eastin had already noticed her change in routine.
“Miela. What’ve you been so busy with lately? Your room’s always empty.”
“Uh, huh? Ahaha… I’ve just been busy reading books.”
No matter how often she lied, she still wasn’t good at it—clearly a problem. Eastin eyed her, clearly suspicious.
“Really? Hmm. I went looking for you in the study earlier and you weren’t there.”
“That’s because! I was reading in the garden, not the study! I wanted some fresh air!”
“Oh, I see? Must’ve been deep in the bushes then. I looked around but didn’t see you.”
It seemed Eastin had searched the mansion looking for her.
Luckily, the staff had kept their mouths shut, just as she’d asked. No one tattled about where she was.
“But you know… You smell sweet.”
At that sharp remark, Miela froze like a stone.
“Huh? R-Really? That’s weird?! Maybe some leftover pie—no, I mean, cookie crumbs?”
“Doesn’t smell like cookies… It’s more of a rich scent. Like pie. With lots of butter.”
Eastin murmured seriously. Miela’s eyes widened in panic as she instinctively covered her mouth and backed away. He had a level of perception far beyond average.
“Y-You… Are you a dog or something? Why’s your nose so good?”
“It’s not that I have a good nose… It’s just that I care a lot—when it comes to you.”
“…!”
It wasn’t a joke—he was serious. If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t even notice. He probably wouldn’t realize if they changed perfume every day or disappeared for hours.
But from some point on, Eastin had started focusing entirely on Miela. Just like now.
“Well, anyway. I didn’t know you liked pie. I’ll request it for tea time tomorrow. Sound good?”
“Uh, sure… okay…”
Miela nodded with a face that looked like she wanted to cry. After making apple pies nonstop for days, she’d grown tired of them—but she couldn’t say that out loud.
A week passed in the blink of an eye. It was finally Eastin’s birthday.
The kitchen was extremely busy preparing cakes and dishes for the party. Amidst the chaos, Miela carefully took her apple pie out of the oven. It was golden brown and looked delicious.
‘I’ve been practicing all week… but I never quite captured the taste of Mom’s pie. I wonder how this one turned out.’
Miela stared at the finished product with uncertainty. All she could hope for was that Eastin would like it.
Placing the pie in a beautiful box, Miela carefully carried it—worried it might lose its shape—and headed to the back garden. The Duke, the Duchess, and Eastin were already seated.
“You’re finally here, Miela.”
“Come, sit down.”
Regina and Yurhan welcomed her warmly. They already knew she had been delayed because of the pie. Everyone knew—except Eastin.
“Miela, you’re just now getting here? I’ve been waiting forever.”
At the hint of a sulky tone, Miela awkwardly answered.
“Sorry. I was late because I was getting your birthday present.”
“A present? What is it?”
Eastin asked with undisguised excitement. Miela carefully handed him the box.
“Here. You can open it now!”
“…A pie? Apple pie, even. My favorite.”
“Yeah. I remembered you said your mom used to bake it a lot, so I thought I’d give it a try.”
“Hm.”
Truthfully, Eastin had kind of guessed it. Miela had been mysteriously absent for days, and every time they ran into each other, she smelled like warm pie.
But he hadn’t expected it to be his birthday present.
‘Wow… This is even better than I imagined.’
