Chapter 53

Iberin ducked away from that gaze and looked at the head chef instead.

"Chef — what if you grilled eggplant with this in it, like a seasoning? Less spicy, so the kids could eat it too."

She just wanted other people to be able to taste how good this was.

"…The heat is rough on its own, but a little bit should be fine."

"Right?!"

"Yes."

The head chef bit back a smile at how worked up she was getting.

He didn't think he'd ever seen Iberin this animated outside of the times the kids were being cute.

Taking the hint, he pulled out some eggplant on the spot, sliced it up, and got to grilling. He added a small amount of the produce Iberin had brought back.

This time, instead of the earlier smell, an honest-to-god mouthwatering aroma started drifting up.

The eggplant was done in no time.

The head chef picked up a piece first, tried it, and his face brightened as he held a fork out.

"This one's good."

Lyssel and Rotte took the first careful bites.

"Oh — this is actually good!"

Rotte's reaction was promising.

"Grilled eggplant is usually a bit on the greasy side, but this stuff completely cuts through it!"

"Right? Right? Rotte, it's good?"

For some reason Iberin was glowing with pride.

Lyssel apparently liked it this time too — he didn't say much.

Then the others, curious about the taste, each tried a bite and came up impressed.

Whatever else it was, the produce Iberin had brought back had turned out to be a pretty solid hit.

---

After everyone had a taste, they came to the same conclusion: they had to start growing this.

"Let's go back to the spot we picked that fruit and bring some seedlings."

"Seedlings?"

"Yes. Without damaging the tips of the roots. We can set up a little vegetable patch nearby and plant them there."

"That'd work."

"Right."

Iberin was just thrilled at the thought of growing her own chili peppers.

This alone could breathe new life into the cooking here.

From Iberin's perspective, anyway.

"What do we call this, though?"

If they were actually going to eat it, it needed a name — Rotte looked stumped.

Iberin, of course, answered without missing a beat.

"Cheongyang pepper!"

---

Pepper distractions aside, she hadn't given up on tracking down traces of the god.

It was just that Iberin had seen a kind of possibility in the Forest of the World Tree.

She'd thought about it, and as much potential as it had, you couldn't develop anything without people.

What if they took in territory residents?

There were bound to be plenty of problems, but those could be worked through one at a time.

"Your Highness."

"Yes."

The Cheongyang pepper seedlings they'd transplanted into an open patch of ground at the estate, exactly as Iberin had instructed, ran into trouble right out of the gate.

They wouldn't take, and kept dying off.

There'd be a fair bit of trial and error, but if they got the Cheongyangs growing properly and turned up other crops in the forest, the territory might actually start seeing some changes.

That was Iberin's read on it, at least.

"Is there any rule against accepting people into the territory?"

Honestly, the place was so run-down that even if they did, that would be its own headache.

And there wasn't going to be anyone insane enough to want to come into tainted ground like Lecashe.

There were plenty of fertile territories nearby where you didn't have to worry about putting food on the table.

"It's not forbidden. No one'll volunteer to come, though."

"Right… What about declaring we'll accept residents?"

"Accept residents?"

"Yes. Every other region's going to keep moving forward, and Lecashe just stays frozen in place. I'd like to see some change. Even a small start."

"…A declaration should be fine."

"I'm going to put in real work going forward too!"

"Don't push yourself."

"I won't!"

That whole do whatever you want before going into the forest thing — apparently he'd meant it.

Before, he'd have been telling her she didn't have to lift a finger; the fact that he wasn't said a lot.

Iberin grinned, delighted.

---

The intention to start taking in residents was passed to the staff first.

"So there'll be more people, then?"

Strangely enough, Ether didn't look the least bit pleased.

She'd assumed that if she was on board, he'd cheer in an instant.

"You don't like it?"

"…No. Whatever you do, Mommy, is good."

"That doesn't sound like a yes."

Nobody loved being lied to, but Iberin was especially quick to pick up on Ether trying to hide what he felt.

He knew it, too — at the look she gave him, he realized he'd been busted and started chewing on his words.

"It's just… I don't like it…"

"Why not?"

"In the capital…"

He couldn't quite finish, his voice trailing off, but Iberin understood right away.

A lot of things had happened in the capital.

There was no way Ether hadn't picked up on the people who'd been wary of him.

"Just don't like it? If Ether doesn't want this, I won't do any of it."

"No. I'm just worried. The people at the estate later, they ended up liking me a little, so…"

So it wasn't outright hate — that was a relief.

"The new people coming in are going to recognize it too, as long as Ether does his best."

"…You think so?"

"Of course!"

Rozelia, who'd been listening quietly, suddenly threw down a challenge.

"Tell you what — once the new residents show up, you and me, we settle who they like more. Obviously it's gonna be me, but!"

She was clearly doing it on purpose, because she couldn't stand seeing Ether sulky.

"What?! Why would it obviously be Big Sis!"

"Pbbbt."

Ether snapped right back.

I'm gonna be the one they like best, no it's me!

It was childish past the point of words, but Ether was laughing again in seconds, so it counted as a win.

They might be debating whether to accept residents or not, but honestly, whether any visible change came of it was anyone's guess.

It was just better than sitting on her hands — that was the whole reason for pushing it through.

---

Not everyone was optimistic, but they weren't pessimistic either.

If anything, they trusted Iberin with full hearts.

If our Lady Iberin says she wants to do something, we make it happen!

That kind of attitude.

"Hey, don't you think I've gotten healthier lately, maybe because of all the moving around?"

After finding the first Cheongyang peppers, she'd been going out with Lyssel now and then to hunt for new crops.

Partly because the peppers they'd planted in the open patch kept dying, and they had to keep going back for fresh seedlings.

"Moving around?"

"Going into the forest with you every day — that's a workout."

It really was true.

Before, even a little movement would drain the color out of her face and send her collapsing — but since she'd started going out with Lyssel, things had improved a lot.

Iberin herself could feel that she was a bit better than before.

"…Are we going again today?"

"Of course. We're going to find another new crop today too."

There hadn't been a single monster since the one on day one, and Iberin's confidence was through the roof.

"Let's go!"

Lyssel didn't seem to mind going into the forest with her every day either.

It was time the two of them got to spend together.

Ether and Rozelia would occasionally beg to come along, but Lyssel always turned them down, saying it'd be too much for him to keep an eye on three of them at once.

Honestly, it wouldn't have been hard on him at all, but if Iberin said so, he just nodded along.

"Oh?"

After they got into the forest like that —

Iberin spotted something again, for the first time in a while.

In all honesty, recent forest trips had been packed with picking Cheongyangs — carefully digging them up without damaging the roots and carrying them home.

They kept dying, and Iberin had even started worrying that at this rate, they were going to run the forest's stock of peppers dry.

"Something there?"

"That. Right there."

The eggs she'd eaten back in Korea were growing in the underbrush, like fruit.

At first Iberin thought she'd misread it, but no matter how many times she looked, those were eggs.

Her eyes lit up.

Lyssel seemed to catch the look and picked one off the bush.

"How does it feel?"

"Firm."

"Try throwing it on the ground."

Splat—

It hit the dirt and burst open, fluid running out. Anyone looking would call it an egg.

If this isn't an egg, what else could it be?

There was no way this wasn't an egg.

"What is that. There's no demonic energy on it."

"Think this could work as a food ingredient too?"

"…Yes. But how would you eat that? To actually eat it…"

The visual was, admittedly, rough.

The way it kept stretching when it ran was off too, and it wasn't the shape of anything you'd typically cook with.

But Iberin knew exactly how to handle it.

"It's a different story once you cook it."

"Cook it?"

"Yes. Over heat."

"…That could work."

"Let's pick a few."

A self-confessed egg fanatic, Iberin happily started loading them into the basket she'd brought.

Lyssel set to digging energetically, going after the seedlings.

The sight of him grabbing a shovel as if by instinct cracked her up.

"Pfft."

"Why are you laughing."

Who would have guessed the Grand Duke Lecashe would be the one digging in dirt.

"You're working so hard, it's cute."

"…Excuse me?"

Lyssel froze on the spot. Iberin reached over and patted his round head.

"Good boy."

"…Hah. What are you doing."

Apparently being treated like a kid for the first time in his life, Lyssel just looked bewildered.

His tone was so stiff it almost sounded like he was angry, and Iberin hesitated for a second.

"…Are you mad?"

She watched his face carefully — and Lyssel reacted fast.

"I'm not mad."

"I just felt like we'd gotten closer."

"We have?"

"We haven't? Did I read it wrong?"

"No, that's not it — I'm not sure I know what 'closer' means."

"You feel close, you've grown fond of each other. That kind of feeling. Don't you get it?"

"I do."

"Really? You've grown fond of me?"

"…Yes. I think so."

"If you have, you have — what's with the 'I think so.' Still, hearing it out loud is nice. Because I've grown fond of you too, Your Highness. I was worried you'd say you hadn't."

He still couldn't quite commit to a clean yes on his own, it seemed.

You couldn't blame someone for being slow to put a name to an emotion they'd never been taught and had gone a whole life without knowing.

But even the fact that he could say it felt close was something to be proud of.

"So can I baby you sometimes from now on?"

"Baby me?"

"Like I just did."

"…That's a bit much."

"Why?"

"It's a little embarrassing. I'll do it for you instead."

"Then go ahead. I won't say no."