Chapter 125

Chapter 125:  The Greatest Feast (8)

Harris smoothly explained his reason for choosing the seafood stew, like reciting a poem.

The Emperor, who had understood everything, nodded with a satisfied expression.

「I see. Your noble intention has reached me.」

He dabbed his lips with a pristine white napkin.

「The depth of flavor from what could have easily been a mundane stew—perhaps it's thanks to that mindset of yours.」

The Emperor slowly turned to look at the two Grand Dukes seated on either side of him.

The ruler of the Empire then asked them,

「What do you two think?」

The Grand Duke of the North was the first to respond, his expression solemn.

As if intending to use Harris’s menu choice strategically, he flashed his signature sharp gaze, reminiscent of the Black Lion.

“I once tasted a dish prepared by a chef from the United Kingdoms.”

He was the same Grand Duke of the North who, until now, had left half of every banquet dish untouched.

Yet the stew—he had nearly emptied the plate, as if it were curing a hangover.

“It tastes even better than that one. I’d say it’s been subtly adjusted to suit the palate of us Imperials.”

It was a kind of signal.

A chance for Harris to leave a good impression on the pessimistic King of the United Kingdoms when it came to food trade.

The eldest son swallowed hard.

Thanks to the family head lessons he’d once received from his father, he was able to recognize that signal.

Even rival houses knew how to unite when the interests of the Empire were at stake—that was true wisdom.

“All the ingredients, except the seafood, are from our Empire. I experimented to see how they’d pair with cuisine from the North Sea.”

“How curious. I never thought a dish blending our culture would appear in the Imperial court.”

King Doku repeatedly tasted the stew, his expression genuinely surprised.

It seemed even the Empire’s vegetables suited his taste.

“It seems Duke Doku is pleased.”

“Of course. If such dishes become popular, we’d feel far more comfortable exporting ingredients from our side.”

For the first time, the leader of the United Kingdoms, who had worn a bitter look until now, showed a cheerful expression.

The Grand Duke of the North crossed his arms and, finally, turned to look at Harris’s father.

With a gaze that said, Enough bragging about your son—just admit it already.

“Have you nothing to say, Grand Duke of the West?”

“……”

Amid this lightened atmosphere, one man still wore a serious expression.

He stared at the son he had raised with care—who had left to chase a different dream and now returned.

And he asked,

“What was your reason for serving such an experimental dish at this weighty occasion, Chef?”

A blunt question, clearly not part of any script prepared for Harris.

“……”

This time, the Western Archduke’s son couldn’t answer right away.

Just as expected—his script didn’t contain an answer for a question like that.

The Empire’s most powerful figures were now watching, expectant of how he would handle the moment.

“That is…”

Even faced with a long silence, Harris wasn’t flustered. He simply took a deep breath.

Like a young beast ready to leap off a cliff and go on the hunt with his own strength.

“I admit, it might have come across as somewhat discourteous.”

Then finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

“But I wished to show His Majesty, the greatest conductor of the Empire, something.”

He began to unfold the grand philosophy and conviction he held in his heart about cuisine.

“One of the most essential aspects of human life—food. I wanted to speak about its power.”

Harris bowed at nearly a right angle in a gesture of utmost respect.

His powerful voice and motion stirred a brief silence across the great dining hall.

“Just as every party has a banquet, food has the ability to ease the atmosphere even among strangers meeting for the first time.”

The Archduke’s son closed his eyes tightly, hiding his trembling expression.

And in truth, his words weren’t aimed at the Emperor—they were a bold confession directed at his father.

“Now imagine how delighted a guest from a distant land would be to see food from their homeland.”

He was saying, This is how much I want to walk this path.

“A chef is meant to deliver the finest experience. With that motto in mind, I too wanted to create the best possible dish for our guest.”

「…….」

The Emperor listened quietly to his sincere confession.

To serve the finest dish, Harris hadn’t hesitated to take a bold and experimental risk.

One that could have seemed offensive—but was instead a firm stand for his culinary ideals.

“I see.”

Finally, the Western Grand Duke understood his son’s boldness and resolve.

Only then did his expression soften.

“A well-founded attempt is not an act of disrespect, Grand Duke Harriet.”

The Grand Duke of the North, Luton, quietly added his words.

Famed for being sparing with compliments, he was now encouraging someone—no less than the son of his rival house.

“If you’d failed, you’d have simply been kicked out of the Imperial kitchen. But since you succeeded, it’s become a tremendous achievement, blending the cultures of two nations.”

It was a businesslike perspective, fitting for a true merchant.

He even looked slightly envious as he glanced toward the Western Grand Duke.

“You’ve pulled off a trade with far more gain than loss. So why the sour face?”

“When have I ever looked sour?”

Harriet muttered as he fidgeted with his mustache and turned his head sharply.

Luton gave a quiet chuckle and took a sip of wine.

“Even if it’s just cooking, your son has reached the pinnacle of a field. And he’s not even thirty.”

「Indeed, Grand Duke.」

The Emperor joined in.

He looked at Harris and spoke in a booming, cheerful voice.

「This may be just a single dish, but when I think of the influence it will have, I’d say he’s surpassed my own sons.」

“Preposterous, Your Majesty!! How could that boy possibly compare to the princes…”

The Western Grand Duke clicked his tongue, wearing an expression of disbelief.

However, the Emperor, the Grand Duke of the North, and even King Doku—every one of them knew.

That despite all the praise for his son, Harriet’s lips had ever so slightly curved upward.

「――――――」

The banquet had come to an end.

Everyone had finished cleaning up and gone home.

But Harris, still unable to believe what he had accomplished, remained in the kitchen.

He wiped a cleaned plate once more.

Even the sorted ingredients—he gave them an extra, unnecessary rub, polishing the outer skins.

That was when the sound of stiff leather shoes echoed from behind.

The moment he heard them, the Western Archduke’s son instinctively knew who it was.

He slowly turned his head.

And there he was—his father, who had come to see him after the banquet had ended.

“So. Are you planning to become the Imperial Head Chef now?”

The Imperial Head Chef.

A position that came with lifelong prestige and a generous salary.

The pinnacle of culinary honor that no chef could easily refuse.

However—

“No. As I said before, I plan to make our family name known in my own way.”

Harris intended to leap even higher than the current pinnacle.

“I’ll open restaurants bearing the name Yekaterina all across the continent.”

A world where everyone on this vast continent would know the name of the Western Grand Duke’s house.

The eldest son held that grand dream.

“Right. If you ran away from home, you’d better have at least that much ambition.”

It seemed the Western Grand Duke had secretly feared his son might grow complacent, drunk on the Emperor’s praise, and settle for the position of Imperial Head Chef.

But upon seeing his son’s unwavering conviction once again...

“Very well. Keep on cooking.”

He finally decided to support his dream.

“Do you mean that, Father…?”

In the empty kitchen, standing beneath the pouring sunlight at its center, the son stared blankly at the Western Grand Duke.

“Have I ever said anything twice?”

Harris grabbed the apron resting on the shelf.

And gently placed it around his neck.

“Thank you. Thank you so much… Father!! I’ll do my best!!”

The tightness in his chest that had long weighed him down finally lifted.

His voice trembled, and he shut his eyes tightly.

As though not wanting to show the weakness of tears.

Perhaps understanding his son's heart, the Western Grand Duke patted his shoulder.

“But don’t push yourself too hard just to earn my approval.”

It was the same gentle gaze from the days when he used to cook for him.

“Business is terrifying—it requires colder judgment than anything else just to stay average.”

Finishing his advice, the Western Grand Duke exited the kitchen.

Once back in the hallway, he gave his overwhelmed son the gift of time alone.

――――――

With his hands behind his back, the Western Grand Duke walked down the Imperial Palace corridor.

Soon, he locked eyes with me, waiting nearby.

The kindness he had shown his son—was completely gone from his face.

He spoke in a cold, razor-sharp voice.

“You really managed to butter up my son, Lord Roger.”

“I didn’t do much of anything, Your Grace.”

I greeted him with the most harmless expression I could muster.

The Western Grand Duke let out a dry chuckle and shook his head.

“Don’t play humble with me. You wrote him an entire script. My son doesn’t have the guts to deliver a speech that long, not like you.”

Even after all that time apart—he still knew his son.

The Grand Duke had seen right through Harris’s soft heart and quiet nature.

“Still, everything he said came from his sincerity. I only helped put it into words.”

He, too, understood the grand dream Harris carried.

“Anyway, I’m glad you gave your blessing. I was honestly worried you’d notice it was scripted and blow up, saying he didn’t overcome it on his own.”

At my candid words, the Western Grand Duke snorted.

His mustache twitched as if to say how ridiculous.

“Do you take me for someone like Luton?”

The Grand Duke straightened his towering frame, easily over 190 centimeters tall.

Then, gazing out leisurely through the corridor window, he spoke.

“Humans, you know, aren’t creatures meant to live alone. The ability to listen to sound advice is important too.”

“Then, does that mean…?”

He looked at me with eyes very different from when we had first met.

As if he no longer harbored any doubt about me.

“Yes. At the very least, the script he read was flawless. And the judgment to believe it would work—that was his own.”

As expected of a Grand Duke who ruled an entire province.

He might come off as stern and self-centered on the surface, but when it counted, he showed wisdom.

“You waited here for me, I assume, to collect payment for your advice to my son?”

“Haha… No way. I was just on my way to tell your son he did well.”

The Western Grand Duke slowly shook his head at my shameless smile.

As if looking at a fox, smug and clever, demanding a reward.

“That smile doesn’t work on me in the slightest.”

Harriet let out a dry laugh and looked at me with amused disdain.

At the same time, he reached into the inner pocket of his suit and pulled out an elegant cream-colored envelope.

“Here. The item you wanted.”

“…!!”

Just from the outer design, I instantly knew what was inside.

The moment I accepted it with both hands—

Harriet, now watching me closely, asked in a formal voice,

“So, what’s the first thing you plan to do once you become a baron?”

“First, I’ll focus on building wealth to secure a territory.”

The Western Grand Duke picked up on the word territory.

He stroked his thick jaw thoughtfully and muttered,

“A territory… If you ever consider it, look toward the West. I’ll arrange a fine piece of land for you.”

“Even just your words mean a great deal to me. Thank you.”

I respectfully took his outstretched hand and exchanged a firm handshake.

“There’s still time, so take your time to decide.”

“So I shall.”

With that, the Western Grand Duke walked past me and continued down the corridor.

After leaving the Imperial Palace, he met his chief secretary, who had been waiting in the lobby.

“Your Grace, shall I escort you home?”

“Yes, do that. Harris will be staying at the palace for a while, so I’ll return on my own.”

With his hands behind his back, he moved toward his platinum carriage.

Then, just as he placed one foot on the carriage step—

“Now that I think about it… Helena’s nowhere to be seen. Shouldn’t she be riding back with me?”

The Grand Duke glanced around, searching for his daughter and heir.

“Ah, well…”

The secretary hesitated briefly before responding.

Sensing something off, the Western Grand Duke—already known for his intimidating presence—furrowed his brow sharply.

“Where has Helena gone? She arrived in this carriage as well.”

“The Lady said she had to make a brief business stop in the North and left ahead of time.”

Even though she had already been there multiple times, she had set off for the North again.

At that, the father was struck with a vague but growing unease.

“Again? She’s been there more than enough times lately.”

The Western Grand Duke immediately stepped down from the carriage.

Then he looked around, checking to see if her carriage was still nearby.

“Which carriage is she in right now?”

“That… I’m afraid I’m not sure. She’s quite independent, as you know…”

While Harriet scanned the lobby with a grim expression—

I had finished exchanging pleasantries and was getting ready to head home comfortably in the rented carriage.

The Saint had provided the horse and coachman as well.

After telling the driver I’d be in his care for the day, I made my way toward the cozy back seat.

“I’ll be resting for a bit. Please handle the ride.”

“Of course. Wishing you a peaceful journey.”

Like a fox retreating into its den, I closed the door with a serene smile.

Then, the moment I collapsed onto the soft blanket in the comfortable back seat—

“…!?”

I jumped at the sudden touch—something incredibly soft and plush against my arm.

There she was.

The Western Grand Duke’s daughter was already lying there, having made herself at home before me.

“You’re late, Roger.”

Helena poked her head out from beneath the blanket, tilting it slightly.

Then, as if already well-acquainted with the driver, she gave him a bold signal.

“Let’s go. It’ll take us at least two full days to reach the North—”

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