Appendix — The Lord and Maids’ Joint Development

Vanessa was a maid who worked in the inner palace in the Kingdom of Capua. Despite the term “maid,” she didn’t have the refined features and loveliness that you might normally associate with a royal maid. She was a stout, middle-aged woman with a rounded waist and hips.

It went without saying, but an isolated environment like the inner palace could not be run by fair maidens alone. There were a number of older maids in charge of various areas of service, starting with the head maid, Amanda. The staff could be split into two groups: a large number of younger women chosen for their looks, who made up the bulk of the workforce, and a smaller number of experienced older women to lead them.

Vanessa was part of the latter group. “Head of cooking for the inner palace” was her formal position. Of course, despite the title, she was not technically a royal chef.

The official royal chefs were men who worked in the main palace, and they cooked most of the meals for Aura and Zenjirou, which were then brought to the inner palace by the maids. Of course, it was rather inefficient for them to cook every single dish throughout the day, to be subsequently delivered to the royal couple. Therefore, while the chefs prepared the staples and main meals that required particular culinary skill, Vanessa and the others managed the simpler foodstuffs within the inner palace.

The inner palace kitchen was small but equipped as well as the main kitchens, and Vanessa’s skills were not too inferior to those of the royal chefs. The patriarchy inherent to Capuan society pervaded even the culinary sphere, however, and there was no possibility of a woman joining their ranks. So Vanessa worked daily as an inner palace counterpart to the royal head chef.

“Listen up, girls, it’s time to make your beloved snacks. Give it your all!” she called, her hands on her wide hips.

“Right!” the three younger women cried energetically in return.

The heads of each department had set positions, but the general staff rotated through the various areas of service on a schedule. This was born of both the desire to give them a thorough grounding in all skills that they would need as maids, and also to ensure they could lend aid from one area to another when one specialty needed extra staff without warning. In fact, the monthly deep cleaning of the bath and the general maintenance of the gardens after the rainy season were both managed by their entire workforce.

Vanessa’s face broke into a wide smile at their prompt response as she clapped her hands. “Right, then, let’s get going!”

Her speech and behavior were a little idiosyncratic when compared to a typical “maid of the inner palace.” Put bluntly, she lacked refinement. Naturally, she conducted herself impeccably around Zenjirou and Aura, far beyond what one would expect from her bulky frame, but when there wasn’t anyone providing oversight, she acted more like a woman in a bar downtown. So much so that even some of the younger maids from well-to-do families struggled to interact with her.

But that was far from a concern for the three maids in the kitchen today. The ones currently on kitchen duty were Faye, Dolores, and Letti.

Vanessa’s voice rang out with instructions. “Faye, you handle the range. Add wood and keep it burning at the right temperature!”

“Sure!”

“Dolores, sift some flour onto the table!”

“Got it.”

“Letti, you’re beating the eggs with me. I’ll do the yolks, you do the whites.”

“Ahh, that’s the hardest one.”

They followed Vanessa’s commands and separated to perform their duties. There were many ingredients set out on the table: sifted flour, egg yolks whisked to a frothy mix, and meringue (egg whites beaten until stiff peaks formed). Along with that, there was powdered bicarb, refined vegetable oil, and dark sugar.

Some might have been able to guess what they were going to make just from seeing the ingredients. They were baking something called a sponge cake. Of course, sponge cakes didn’t originally exist in Capua, and it went without saying that the idea had come from Zenjirou. Before relocating to this world, he had downloaded every recipe he could get his hands on for confectioneries and snacks to go along with alcohol.

Understandably, close to eighty percent of what he’d brought was impossible to replicate here. The reason for that was exceptionally simple: the majority of western baked goods and sweets on Earth used dairy products like milk and butter. The livestock in Capua, however, consisted primarily of drakes (large reptiles), so there were no animals to milk.

Apparently, there were goats and cows on the Northern Continent, so such things could technically be acquired and imported for vast sums, but Zenjirou wasn’t comfortable with the thought of using so much money on his own luxuries. After all, the kingdom had thus far spent hundreds of years without tasting dairy products. If they produced butter and cheese, there would doubtless be an initial resistance to such products. In fact, when Zenjirou had brought it up with Aura, she had had a somewhat sour expression on her face as she asked, “People put animal milk in their mouths?”

As a result, the only Earth foods they could reproduce were those that didn’t use dairy. One was the sponge cake they were making right now. Of course, there were versions like milk or butter sponges that did indeed use dairy products, but the recipe Zenjirou had brought was, fortunately, dairy-free. Eggs, strong flour, sugar, granulated sugar, and salad oil; these were the only items required.

Still, the sponge cake they were making wouldn’t follow his recipe precisely. They had no oils that were refined enough to match salad oil, so they substituted the most inoffensive vegetable oil they could find. It still had a fairly strong flavor, though, so they added a splash of the brandy that he had brought to mask it.

On top of that, the only rising agent in the recipe was the meringue, but it hadn’t worked quite right so far, so they decided to use natural sodium bicarbonate (powdered natron) as an additional leavening agent.

The differences in techniques and ingredients came together in the final look and taste, making it something a bit different from the original. In spite of that, it was an improved recipe that Vanessa had developed by way of trial and error, using those skills of hers that were equal to the royal chefs’. The light scent of brandy and alcohol content might even mean that some people would have preferred it to the original sponge cake.

Humming, Vanessa whipped the whisk through the mix in a big copper bowl under her left arm, stirring together a large number of egg yolks. The practice of beating eggs was a standard culinary technique there already, so she was well used to the process.

While doing that, she was also using the resistance of the mixture to judge whether it was done, and simultaneously keeping an eye on the younger women to direct them.

“Right, nearly time to mix in the meringue. Letti, how’s it going?” she asked the girl at her side as she added the sugar with practiced movements.

The maid in question’s eyes were droopy, and her face was flushed as she whisked the egg whites. “Right, nearly therrrre,” she answered, her voice having grown exhausted even in the short time since they’d started.

Unlike the egg yolks, which only needed gentle whisking to froth them up, meringues took a lot of effort to beat until the peaks started to form. It was tiring enough that her roommates exchanged sympathetic looks from their own stations.

Faye was in front of the range, sweating buckets, and Dolores had sifted masses of flour, getting some on her face. Regardless, Letti continued to beat the whites, making her entire body shake as she worked away.

“Good, good. Once you’re done, bring it here. Faye! How’s the range?”

“All good; ready when you are!” the slight girl cheered, raising a tiny fist, her apron and face smudged with ash.

“Great, let’s really get started, then. Dolores, you’re done with the flour, right? Excellent, now grease the tins and pick something to go on the bottom.”

“Really? I get to choose?” asked the aforementioned maid, her usually sleepy eyes crinkling with excitement.

The original recipe called for granulated sugar, but Vanessa had tried several alternatives so far: chopped nuts, slices of dried fruits, and so on. This was, when it came down to it, the part that had the greatest impact on the final flavor, so it was unsurprising that Dolores was so happy to have the task.

“Ahh, no fair!” Letti called from her station.

“Go with the sugar, Dolores! Sugar’s the tastiest!” added Faye.

Once they’d given the best of the snacks to Zenjirou and Aura, the maids working in the kitchen were free to “dispose of the leftovers appropriately.” Therefore, they were quite invested in the outcome.

As Vanessa added the oil to the yolk bit by bit, she scolded the three boisterous maids. “Come on, you three, keep going. Focus on your work. You need to hurry up and pick, Dolores. If a servant’s dithering delays her master’s meal, then she’s a disgrace to her profession.”

Unlike the head maid, Amanda, or the one in charge of cleaning, Ines, Vanessa rarely chastised her charges, but she had her limits when it came to cooking.

“Riiiight.”

“Sorry, Miss Vanessa.”

“Sorryyyy.”

The three “problem children” answered in unison, ducking their heads at the rebuke.

Roughly one hour later, a sweet scent filled the room. The source was, it went without saying, the finished pastries.

With practiced movements, Vanessa removed the cakes from the tins and used a bread knife to cut them. Her three assistants leaned over the table from where they sat, watching with bated breath. Ignoring their ravenous gazes, like predators finally finding prey after three days of starvation, Vanessa divided the cakes into equal pieces.

“Right, so this one’s from here to here... and this one’s from here to here.”

She surveyed the cakes for the best pieces and arranged them carefully on a metal plate. The stove was a primitive wood-burning one, so even her skills couldn’t avoid the heat being somewhat uneven. As a result, she baked with the assumption that there would be a certain amount of problems while they cooked, then presented only the best parts to their masters.

Letti watched her set up the cakes for Zenjirou and asked her a question in a much more serious tone than she would normally use. “Ah, Miss Vanessa, that bit is lumpy at the top... Do you not think it would be best to keep it away from Sir Zenjirou?”

The piece in question was actually the one with the most sugar on top. Prompted by their companion’s suggestion, Dolores and Faye joined in, hiding their gluttony beneath an apparent concern for their master.

“Miss Vanessa, look closely, this part has some small lumps of flour on it. Working in the kitchen, I cannot condone offering this to Sir Zenjirou,” Dolores noted, a mask of calm forced onto her face as she pointed at the piece with the nicest coloring.

“Miss Vanessa, Miss Vanessa! That one on the edge of the plate! It’s cut slightly crookedly! I’ll take responsibility and dispose of it!” Faye cried, bouncing in her seat, her eye on a piece thicker than all the rest.

Vanessa gazed silently at her staff, slaves to their greed, their eyes half-lidded. They realized they’d gone too far just a moment too late.

She blew out a gusty sigh, still saying nothing. Then, “You utter fools!”

“Agh!”

“Ow!”

“Yow?!”

The three cried out as she dropped a heavy blow onto each of their heads.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Afterward, Faye, Dolores, and Letti took the best of the cakes to the living room and left them with Zenjirou, then returned to the kitchen.

“We’re back!” Faye called.

“We gave Sir Zenjirou the cakes,” Dolores added.

“He said they’re great and to tell you thanks as always,” Letti finished.

Their cheery voices and appearances showed no signs of the hit they’d each taken from Vanessa not long before. Of course, their mental resilience and ability to quickly bounce back probably had something to do with her willingness to strike them so hard in the first place, but they hadn’t noticed that.

Vanessa remained seated as she greeted the young women with a bright grin. “Great! Good work. I’m brewing some tea, so let’s take a break. Come on, each of you can have any piece you like.”

“Yahoo!”

“Thank you, they look delicious.”

“Yay! Hmm, hmm.”

The trio whooped as they reached the table and each devoted their focus to evaluating which of the cakes took their fancy. There was a lot left, but they would need to share it with the other maids or invite their resentment, so they could only take one slice each.

As the three were plating their choices, Vanessa poured the tea, placing a cup before each of the three women and then herself. The plates and cups were all wooden. Capua had no ceramics or glass, so most tableware was either made from metal or wood.

“Here, your tea. It’s still hot, so mind you don’t burn yourselves,” she told them.

“Thank you, Miss Vanessa!”

“Yay! Faye, pass me the sugar?”

“Hold on, Letti. If you put that much in your tea, you won’t be able to taste the cake,” Dolores protested.

“Dolores, don’t waste your breath, Letti heaps sugar onto everything.”

Letti giggled in response as the tea party continued with the girls in high spirits.

You could potentially deem their utter lack of shame as they enjoyed the tea and cake in front of their boss, proof of the maids’ courage. Amanda, the head maid, put a great deal of importance on discipline and seniority. She would certainly have called the sight unacceptable, but Vanessa was the most easygoing among the senior staff. In fact, she preferred the joyous atmosphere.

“So, Dolores, is the paper you’ve got the usual?” she asked. Vanessa had finished her own piece of cake and was now cleansing the sweetness on her palette with the tea.

The target of her question, the tall maid, was nibbling away at her cake, making it last. “Ah, yeah. It’s the next recipe from Sir Zenjirou,” she answered, quickly swallowing her current bite.

Every so often, the prince consort would translate another recipe from his homeworld and hand it off to the kitchen staff. Of course, he had Aura check it first to make sure that there weren’t any mistakes that might confuse the meaning of the text.

“Ehehe, I wonder what this one is. I can’t wait,” Letti—the one most interested in the otherworldly sweets—mused, her eyes widening as she focused on the new recipe.

Naturally, Faye and Dolores both enjoyed replicating the recipes as well, if not to the same extent as their coworker.

“We’re counting on you, Letti.”

“Come on, Faye, don’t just push it off on her. Letti might be the best at cooking, but that doesn’t mean we can leave it all to her. We’ve got to put in our own effort too!” Dolores scolded her, jabbing an elbow into her short coworker’s side in response to Faye’s blatant scheme to ride Letti’s coattails.

“Ow! Quit it, Dolores. You might be thin, but that just makes your elbows pointier.”

“Shut it; you can hardly talk, midget.”

“Who are you calling a midget, long legs?!”

“Come on, you two, don’t be rude. We’re finally enjoying these delicious snacks, so let’s be quiet and savor them,” Letti rebuked the pair as they fell into one of their common bouts of ribbing. The look on her face was somewhere between unhappiness and anger. She knew better than anyone that the two weren’t really fighting, but they were interfering with her beloved snacks, and that just wouldn’t do.

“Yes, do keep it under control; even my patience has its limits,” Vanessa warned them with a hint of reluctant amusement. “That aside, when are you three planning on trying out the new dessert?”

The maids didn’t have much time to spare on attempting new recipes during their usual workday. Serving the three meals and making afternoon snacks was normally the limit of what they could manage.

“Well...” Letti murmured.

“Obviously,” Faye started, her argument with Dolores stopping instantly as the girl in question completed her thought.

“In three days. I seem to remember that Sir Zenjirou and Her Majesty will be working during lunch and have an evening banquet planned, so they will only be taking breakfast here.”

The two spoke like they were reading from a memo. Of course, working in the inner palace, they routinely memorized their master’s engagements as a matter of course.

Vanessa nodded with a smile, the young maid’s answer being satisfactory, but the smile seemed to bode poorly for them. “That’s certainly true. But the head chef requested my help for that banquet. Apparently, Sir Zenjirou said that I know his tastes best.” Her rueful laugh suggested that it was an honor as the chuckle rocked her stout form.

To the three problem maids, however, this was no laughing matter.

“What?!” Faye yelled in surprise.

“You won’t be here?” Dolores asked, her face worried and questioning.

“What? So... we won’t be able... to make the new snacks?” Letti stammered, her face screwing up in sorrow, looking close to tears.

The answer was, “most likely not.” Letti might have been the best of the three when it came to cooking, but she was still just “a maid skilled at cooking” when it came down to it.

Vanessa, on the other hand, was “a chef in maid’s clothing,” and far beyond her level. So naturally, their efforts to reproduce Zenjirou’s requested recipes had thus far been led by her.

“But... then how about in seven days? There’s no banquet, but both of them will be away from the inner palace that day. It’s less time than we’d have three days from now, but that should...” Dolores quickly flipped through her mental schedule for an alternative plan, but Vanessa interrupted her with an oddly fixed expression on her face.

“Well, if you’re all right with that, I don’t mind. Can I get you to pass it on to Carina?”

Carina was the name of one of their colleagues, another young woman they worked with. The three of them parsed her wording at the same time.

“Ah?!”

“Right, that won’t work; we need to do it before then.”

“We change jobs in five days!”

The three of them cried out in turn, all feeling the looming threat of that five-day deadline as they racked their brains. If they gave it a go in three days’ time, it would be theirs for the taking, but in seven, it would be the next group’s responsibility.

Vanessa gave a theatrical shrug as she watched them, shaking her head exaggeratedly. “What a shame. I was going to allow the first team who perfected the next recipe to have part of the fridge as a reward, you know.”

The huge, five-compartment fridge in the living room was Zenjirou’s, of course, but he’d given permission for Vanessa to use a third of it as she wished, starting with the crisper, since she was in charge of cooking.

The trio perked up at that news. Capua was still in its hottest season, and while Zenjirou allowed the maids a certain amount of leeway with using the chilled towels, cold water, and even the ice from the ice maker, there were dozens of maids in the inner palace. Towels aside, there wasn’t enough chilled water or ice for everyone to take what they pleased.

With that in mind, the thought of having their own section of the fridge, albeit a limited amount of space, was immensely attractive.

Faye, Dolores, and Letti exchanged glances, checking that they were all on the same page before they spoke together.

“Miss Vanessa!”

“Leave it to us!”

“We’ll try to perfect it on our own in three days!”

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Three days later, in the afternoon, Faye, Dolores, and Letti gathered in the quiet inner palace’s kitchen. No one else was around.

The three were of course wearing long aprons over their uniforms, ready to bake. Faye had short hair, and it was in her usual style, but Dolores and Letti both had long hair tied up in a bun to stop the strands from falling down and getting in the way of their work.

They’d decided that they would try to complete the recipe on their own, which had probably been Vanessa’s hope.

“Got it. Good luck, then. I’ll make sure you’ve got plenty of ingredients, and you can do what you like with them,” their supervisor had announced, a smile saying “all according to plan” on her face.

While the three of them didn’t realize it at the time, trying to replicate the recipe on their own was good culinary practice. If it managed to improve their skills, it was cause for celebration for Vanessa, who was entrusted with their training.

“All right, let’s get started!” Letti proclaimed, clapping her hands in front of her prominent chest.

“Roger that, ma’am! You’re the boss today, Letti. Faye and I will follow your instructions, so lead us well.”

“That’s right, boss!”

Letti rolled up her sleeves as her roommates answered, then folded her arms and replied in turn. “Yeah, I’ll try. Have you two memorized the recipe?”

“Of course; I’ve read it more times than I care to count,” Dolores assured her, waving a piece of paper that was much scruffier and more crumpled than it had been three days ago.

“I-I-I’ll be fine too?” Faye stuttered. While the end of her sentence seemed to raise the tone of her voice in question, Letti couldn’t address her worries just then.

“Jeez, Faye,” she said with a rare pout, “I’m trusting you here. Anyway, let’s get started on the puff pastry.”

She started them off, reaching out for the array of ingredients atop the table. The name of the food made it clear that the new snack was a pastry of some kind. Of course, it was not a “proper” pastry. Actual puff pastries required you to fold butter between layers of dough, which was impossible in a country without dairy products. Zenjirou, however, had translated a recipe for a “low-calorie pastry” that used vegetable oil rather than butter. The recipe was part of the current trend towards diet sweets, but it was much appreciated now that he had no access to dairy.

With noises of exertion, Letti started following the recipe, adding a small amount of salt into some flour and kneading it together with water. They were working under the assumption that they wouldn’t get it right the first time, so each of them was making their own pastry for practice.

Kneading the dough was something that the three had grown used to while making other snacks and bread, so they all began with fairly practiced movements. But watching them, one could see that Letti’s skills were clearly superior.

“Ah, Faye, you might have kneaded it too much, maybe? It says to do it until the dough’s crumbly, right?” Letti pointed out.

“What? No way! Mine’s already all tough.”

“Silly, that’s what you get for not reading the recipe properly.”

Managing to keep an eye on her coworkers while tackling her own task was a clear sign of Letti’s more advanced skill level.

“Hmm, this should work,” she mused. “How are you guys doing? Once you’re done with this step, you need to cover the surface with oil, fold it over, roll it out flat, then coat the surface in oil again. You’ll need to do it three times total.”

“Got it!”

“Man, this is tough. Knowing me, I’d better be ready to end up covered in this stuff,” Dolores sighed, wiping the sweat on her forehead with a cloth. A fire was already burning in the oven so that they wouldn’t waste time, and the kitchen was rather hot.

“We need something to catch the sweat.”

“Yeah, otherwise we’re in trouble.”

“Our snacks will end up all salty.”

The three cheerfully tied cloths over their heads to absorb the perspiration and returned to their baking with renewed vigor.

A while later, there were three sets of pastries on the table.

“Great, we’re done. Now we just need to decide what to put in them. I’m going to go with candied apricots, I think,” Letti said with a tired smile, strands of hair that had escaped from her bun plastered to her face.

“Hmm, I think I’ll just go for bananas...” Dolores suggested thoughtfully.

“I’ll... Hmm, nothing works, does it? Right? I’ll just cover the inside with sugar dissolved in the oil and bake it like that.”

The three of them continued to muse over what fillings to use for a while longer. As young women who liked sweets and were currently working without any supervision, they enjoyed chattering boisterously as they worked.

“Hooray, done!” Letti cried, raising her hands in triumph.

“How long do we cook them for, though? We usually let Vanessa deal with that,” Faye commented.

The oven had no thermostatic control and worked by burning wood, so cooking on intuition alone required no small measure of skill. Letti might have been the one with the most experience in cooking, but this was too much for her.

Dolores, however, chuckled, a fierce smile on her face as she dispelled Faye’s doubts. “I thought of that. Look, I borrowed this from Sir Zenjirou yesterday!”

She pulled a folded-up game console from her pocket. Her recent gaming spree during their breaks meant that she moved with surety as she opened it and tapped away at the controls.

“If you do this... right, there we go, a clock!”

Playing video games had allowed them to master Arabic numerals, and they even understood Earth’s time system of sixty seconds, sixty minutes, and twenty-four hours (they’d learned it while running through time trials in a kart racing game).

“The recipe says to bake it at two hundred degrees for forty minutes, right? Now we can tell exactly how long it’s been,” she boasted, puffing out her tiny chest and garnering applause from a grinning Letti.

“Hey, that’s great, Dolores! We’re all set to track the time, then. But what about temperature? Even if we can tell the time accurately, if we screw up the heat in the oven, it’ll all be for naught, won’t it? How hot’s two hundred degrees?”

“Ugh...” Dolores flinched.

Faye immediately jumped in. “Thought of that indeed! Well, I expected as much.”

“I-It’s fine! We can at least get the timing right; that’ll be really helpful!” Dolores insisted, her face reddening at the teasing. Regardless, it was a fair point. Even with the uncertainty of the temperature, they couldn’t overlook the advantages of knowing the cooking times.

Furthermore, if they had a clock, they could do better with successive attempts much more easily. If the pastries hadn’t baked enough after the first forty minutes; they could easily bake the next one for forty-five. It would be far simpler to judge such adjustments compared to relying on their own sense of time and cooking it “a bit longer this time.” It was easy to recognize just how much more difficult the lack of a timer would make it.

“Come on, you two, don’t fight; let’s get them in.” Letti’s soft cheeks puffed up in an angry look that wouldn’t scare anyone.

Forty minutes later found three pseudo pastries cooling atop the table. They were most certainly “pseudo pastries,” as they could never be mistaken for actual pastries. Calling these things, which were covered in black and burned to a crisp, “pastries” would be blasphemy to every patisserie in history.

Dolores sighed as Faye murmured about the charred coloring. Sparing the cakes a sidelong glance, Letti wore her usual soft expression as she took a knife and cut into hers. She separated the hot pastry, and steam rose from it as she used the knife to scrape the scorched sections off, somehow managing to salvage the edible parts and plating them.

“Now we need to taste them,” she instructed.

“Ugh... R-Right.”

“It takes quite a bit of courage to eat something that looks like that.”

The three of them reached out towards the unappetizing pseudo pastries, mostly out of obligation. The sour looks on their faces made it clear that it was not an enjoyable experience as they sampled the results.

“Dolores, I can’t taste any sweetness from the banana in yours at all. It’s really hard to eat it,” Faye said first.

“Sorry! This one from Letti with the apricot jam is way too sweet. And you added even more sugar.”

“Faye, yours is too hard. It’s not just tough to bite through; I can barely break it by hand.”

Each of them mercilessly judged each other’s efforts. They didn’t assess their own cakes as a rule; after all, it would be far from an objective judgment.

“All right,” Letti cheered once they’d finished the obligatory tasting, not even waiting for the food to settle, “let’s learn from this and try again!”

“On it! We’ve still got loads of ingredients here!”

“I hope the next batch is more appetizing,” Dolores muttered as she and Faye were pulled from their chairs in Letti’s wake.

Make, bake, taste, repeat—that was what made up the rest of their day until the sun went down. The three problem maids only stopped once it finally grew dark.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

The next afternoon, Faye, Dolores, and Letti stood in front of Vanessa as she smiled with her hands on her hips, their nervousness apparent. They had just finished taking Zenjirou his lunch and had a little free time.

“Okay,” Vanessa said, “let’s see what you managed yesterday.”

“Right!” the three of them replied energetically, bursting into motion to demonstrate the fruits of their labors.

As Faye adjusted the oven’s temperature, Letti began to knead the dough. At the same time, Dolores put the game console where they could see the clock and began mixing high-quality sugar and cinnamon to sprinkle over the dough.

The filling... was nothing.

The whole day before had seen absolutely no success in trying to fill the pastry like one would do with an apple or pumpkin pie. It might have been too thin, as the liquid from the filling kept making its way through the base. They’d tried thickening it to prevent the sogginess, but that had led to it being too hard to eat. And each time they had changed ingredients, it had taken a different amount of time to cook, causing them even more grief.

Letti had finally settled on what they were making now: long rectangles that were about two fingers thick, with nothing inside. Once the dough was crumbly, they’d cut it up into rectangles, coat them in oil, sprinkle more oil and cinnamon on top, and then bake them.

Unlike yesterday, Zenjirou was taking all of his meals in the inner palace, so they didn’t have as much time. They only had this one chance.

“Right, the dough’s done, Faye.”

“All good here too; ready when you are!”

“Okay, Letti, put them in and I’ll keep an eye on the time.”

Vanessa watched the maids doing their best to create the desserts with a soft smile on her face, like one might wear when observing small children.

“Starting now!” Letti exclaimed.

“Got it; we’ll take them out forty minutes from now! Faye,” Dolores prompted.

“Yep, I’ll keep the temperature right where it is.”

Some time later, a sweet smell rose from the oven. Vanessa maintained a nonchalant expression as she reached out for the pastries, the three young maids watching her face anxiously.

“Hmm, it’s rather different from what the recipe said,” she remarked.

“Th-That’s because—” Dolores began reflexively, only to be silenced by a look from Vanessa.

“However,” their superior continued, “they’re good enough from the look and scent. All that remains is to taste them.”

She opened her mouth and bit into one of the rectangles.

“M... mph...”

The only sound audible in the kitchen was the crunching as she chewed. Once she had finished the first piece, she spoke.

“Yeah, not bad. Good job, Letti; just what I’d expect from you.”

“Th-Thank you very much!”

Joyous expressions made their way onto the younger women’s faces, but Vanessa rained on their parade, continuing, “There’s still room for improvement, though. For example, the pastry will be flakier and nicer to eat if you score it before cooking. It could be fun to cut them into three thinner sections and braid them together as well. Also, if you’re going to oil them and coat them in sugar, try oiling and frying them, then add the cinnamon and sugar. It might taste better. We can’t serve them like this, at least.”

“Right...” Letti answered, all three of them slumping.

It wasn’t good enough. Their best effort wouldn’t be rewarded... but that was part of the job.

“Still, you did well. I think Carina’s group and I will be able to finish it off.”

“What?!” Faye yelled angrily. “But what about—”

“Quit it!” Dolores hissed, pulling at her, but Faye’s expression didn’t change. Having their hard work taken over by their successors, with the final reward going to another group was an unbearable thought.

Vanessa gave a reluctant smile as the small maid looked up at her sulkily, far from how she should be treating her superior. “I know,” she said soothingly. “If I just let Carina’s group have the fridge then it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

She put her wide hand on Faye’s head and patted her in a motherly way.

“Does that mean...” Faye cried, her sadness vanishing in a heartbeat as she suddenly became all smiles.

“You still didn’t perfect it like we agreed, though, so... I know, we’ll call it half-successful. The other half will be up to Carina and the others. So, once they manage to get it to the point where we can serve it, I’ll let all six of you use part of the fridge for a month. How does that sound?”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah!”

“Yes!”

The three girls answered in an enthusiastic chorus.

Vanessa smiled just as brightly as she clapped her hands. “Okay, then; we’re done for now. I’ll look in on Sir Zenjirou and ask if he has any requests for today’s snacks. While I do that, you three can clean up and get the kitchen ready for the next project.”

“Got it.”

“Very well.”

“Understood.”

Vanessa gave them a final smile as she said, “I’m counting on you,” before leaving.

The three women did as they were told, cleaning the surfaces and utensils they’d dirtied during their baking and putting them away as they chattered happily.

“Hey, why don’t we go tell Carina how to cook them once we’re done?” Faye suggested as she swept the flour off the counter with a small brush.

Washing out a bowl, Dolores pondered her roommate’s suggestion before nodding. “Yeah, that might be best. I’ll teach them how to tell the time on that machine. They’ll need to learn how to judge it by feel eventually, but it’s tough starting out with no clock.”

“Right, the longer they take, the longer it’ll be before we can use the fridge. I’m all for it!” Letti agreed from where she was sweeping up the flour from the floor.

Now the other group’s success was linked to their own. If they could gain the use of the fridge just a little bit earlier, they had no qualms about cooperating.

“Let’s get this done as quick as we can and go see them!”

“Let’s. They’re handling the baths at the moment, right?”

“Kisha’s in the same group, isn’t she? I know where her room is.”

The maids, who usually worked in independent groups, were now proactively coming together and sharing knowledge, working towards a common goal. This was a change that would ultimately result in the entire staff getting along better and improving their skills in the process.

The three girls bustling about the kitchen still had no idea that this had been Vanessa’s goal all along, as they moved excitedly towards fulfilling it.