Act 4: Ingredients

Act 4:
Ingredients

 

Just as I was getting used to daily life in Klausner’s Domain, I started feeling the itch to cook a new dish—the food on offer here was great, don’t get me wrong, but, well…

Lord Klausner and the castle chefs took great care with our meals. Breakfast was the same as what was typically served across the Kingdom of Salutania, but for other meals, they painstakingly prepared dishes they heard were popular in the palace. In other words, we were eating practically the same food every day.

I understood this as a gesture in the name of making me feel comfortable, and for that I was grateful. However, the teeny tiny repertoire was starting to feel really, you know, small.

In this world, where means of communication were limited, the amount of information circulated to the countryside was limited as well. The only thing the chefs out here really knew about the dishes popular in the palace was that herbs were used when roasting meat or making soups.

Going off that scant information, they regularly incorporated herbs into their cooking—and in greater quantity than I had originally used, which made their dishes especially flavorful.

However, they stuck to roasts and soups. They could have added herbs to pan-fried cuts or grilled fish, but for some reason they didn’t. Maybe they were afraid of messing up? I could only guess. In any case, the result was a seemingly endless train of soup, roast, soup, roast, soup, roast, etc.

The chefs were so good at using herbs on the dishes they did make that I was sure they’d do wonderfully with new types, but I would have felt terrible complaining about the food they worked so hard to make. Also, it would have been rude as heck.

But sometimes I just craved a sandwich, or maybe some fish. Before long, I began fantasizing about an expanded Klausner recipe book.

Back at the institute, I would have just made something new myself without a second thought, but my options were limited here. In order to cook, I needed somewhere to do the cooking.

If I wanted to use the castle kitchens, naturally I would need Lord Klausner’s permission. And though I had experience cooking outdoors, it took a bit more preparation than kitchen work.

Not to mention, it would be one thing to cook over an open fire on an expedition, but if I were to do so somewhere near the castle grounds, I would definitely garner troublesome attention. Also, Lord Klausner would doubtless make assumptions, like that I was displeased by food he served. I would feel awful if he thought that, especially since he and his staff were going so far to cater to my tastes.

Was there somewhere I could cook in secret?

“Hmm…”

“What’s the matter?” asked one of the knights, concerned by the crease in my brow.

I was in the knights’ quarters, and I had sunk into thought as I waited for the assistant to count the potions I had delivered.

“Oh, nothing, just something that’s been on my mind.” I felt like I could confide in him since he was part of the Third Order, but I was afraid of anything I said accidentally reaching Lord Klausner in a negative light.

How can I put it? As I struggled to answer, another knight came over to check on me as well.

“What’s going on? If there’s anything bothering you, feel free to tell us.”

“It’s no big deal,” I assured him.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, but sometimes it’s better to get things off your chest.”

“Really, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about how I’d like to cook again—it might be a nice change of pace.”

“You’re going to cook?!” the knight exclaimed as his eyes lit up.

Other knights heard as well, and they all started gathering around, asking what I was planning to make. Some even had direct requests that they actively discussed with each other.

How did this happen? I liked making potions, and it wasn’t like I was tired of that, but fatigue with your routine is totally normal. I’d thought defaulting to the change of pace excuse would work, but I hadn’t expected this level of enthusiasm.

When I asked, tentatively, I learned the meals the knights ate out here weren’t the same as the ones I got in the castle. Lord Hawke and I were given seasoned dishes, but the knights were making do with typical Salutanian fare. Seasoned dishes were more expensive, so it couldn’t be helped. Also, the castle chefs had figured the knights were used to unseasoned dishes, so they hadn’t thought anyone would be disappointed.

However, the knights knew what they were missing. I had cooked for them on expeditions, after all. Plus, so long as they paid, people from outside the institute were allowed to eat at our dining hall—though the knights didn’t always have the time to come.

In any case, since coming to Klausner’s Domain, they’d been thoroughly deprived of even the option of better fare. They had resolved themselves to grin and bear it since they were here on the job, but now they were excited.

“What’s all this commotion about?”

“Oh, Knight Commander.”

Knight Commander Albert Hawke descended from the second floor, frowning at the ruckus.

When I told Albert what I’d said, he nodded in understanding and gave me a somewhat tight smile. “I see now.”

“But I don’t have anywhere to cook, so it’s not like I could in the first place. I doubt they’d let me borrow the castle kitchens. Maybe I could do something in the brewery?”

“Would that be possible?”

“They’ve got cauldrons and stuff, so if I tried, probably. But I have a feeling I’d get yelled at.”

The brewery had a hearth and a ton of pots and so forth, which were, granted, usually used for potions. However, everyone there lived for potions. I couldn’t imagine how irritated they’d be if I defiled the tools of their trade for the sake of my hobby. And I doubted Corinna would give me permission in the first place.

“We have a small kitchen here,” said Albert. “You could use that if you’d like, but…”

“You don’t have anything I could use for boiling water?”

“Unfortunately, no. Every time we want to make tea, we have to send the chamberlain to the castle kitchens.”

“I see.”

I could probably whip something up if I used the small kitchen in the knights’ quarters, like Albert had suggested. However, even if I could make enough for a few people, I wouldn’t be able to feed the whole Order.

If I wanted access to a bigger kitchen, then the only option besides the one in the castle was probably this one dining hall I knew of in town. However, I didn’t know anyone there. And there was no way they would consent to letting me, a stranger, and the Saint no less, use their kitchens. Alas.

It wasn’t like I wanted to cook so badly that I’d ask people I didn’t know to let me take over their kitchen.

“You’ll be able to do some cooking when we head out on the expedition,” said Albert. “You’ll just have to hang on until then.”

“Yeah… That’s too bad.”

“Are you all right?”

“I don’t want to make a big deal out of it or anything, I’m just a bit tired of the castle menu. They’re probably not going to change it up any time soon, right?”

Albert paused, then leaned forward and brought his lips to my ear to whisper: “I understand completely.”

I looked up at him as he drew back with a slightly awkward, shy look on his face. I gave an equally awkward smile back.

No matter how much we liked roasts, it didn’t mean we wanted to eat them prepared the same way every day, even if they did alternate between meats, cuts, and herbs.

“I wish they would at least add fish to the menu,” I said.

“I know what you mean, but we’d have to request it specifically first.”

“It’s so hard to ask for anything,” I moaned.

Although I now knew Albert shared my opinion, I was still at square one for places where I could actually do anything about our monotonous meal misery. In the end, we agreed that we’d both be counting the days until the expedition.

 

***

 

Having finished my potion delivery in the morning, in the afternoon, Corinna and I headed to the herb fields. When we were done with our lesson there, I was free for the rest of the day.

On the road back from the fields, we passed a market just inside the gates on the way to the castle. It wasn’t as big as the one in the capital, but they sold a variety of things, so I liked window shopping.

It had been a year since my summoning, but I could count on one hand how many times I had been to the markets in the capital, so that probably made this experience all that much more exciting for me.

Considering the conversation I’d had with the knights about cooking that morning, I found myself perusing ingredients.

As I looked around, Corinna chuckled. “There you go again. It’s not like there’s anything all that unusual here.”

“But you never know, there might be.”

“Maybe something unfamiliar to you, but I come here practically every day. I know everything on display.”

Corinna had a point. The market was where everyone in the domain bought their food, after all. However, as I searched, I came across ingredients I’d never seen in the capital—both those unique to this world and ingredients I recognized from back in Japan. I wasn’t about to dismiss this remarkable spread.

“That reminds me, didn’t you say something about knowing how to cook?” Corinna mused.

“You got me. I used to cook a bit back in the capital.”

“You’re an odd one. I didn’t believe it the first time I heard. Not at all.”

I smiled stiffly. Corinna had been duly shocked when I mentioned my cooking one day. It made sense, though. People of high station in Salutania rarely knew a pot from a pan, let alone how to use either, and as much as I hated admitting it, the Saint was pretty darn high up on the social ladder. However, when I explained to Corinna that I was a commoner by origin, it all seemed to make more sense to her.

“So you used to cook back where you came from?”

“Yup. However, it’s not like I can get all the ingredients I’m familiar with, so my actual repertoire is kinda limited.”

The dishes I made back in the capital were, broadly speaking, what I would call a taste of home. But that wasn’t the case, not really. Ever since I got to this world, I had mostly been making Western recipes, not Japanese ones.

Did I miss Japanese food such as rice and miso soup? Of course. I would have made them ages ago if I could have. Why hadn’t I? Duh: I couldn’t get the proper ingredients.

I kept thinking I might find them if I only looked hard enough, but I had yet to find any of what I considered the absolute basics—you know, miso, soy sauce, or the dried seaweed and fish flakes that made Japanese soup stock. I understood that, theoretically, I could make miso on my own, but I had never done it before, so I had no idea how.

It would have been nice if I could find it somewhere in this world, but I feared I might have to reconcile with the idea of going the rest of my life without ever tasting it again.

Auuugh, thinking that made me want to eat it all the more! I better stop, or this is going to become a straight-up deadly craving.

“You mean there are some things you can’t make? Like those medicinal dishes you were talking about before?”

“Yeah, part of it is that I can’t get the ingredients, but for those in particular I also just don’t know how.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah. I know what they are conceptually, but I don’t know the proper techniques or anything.”

“That’s too bad.”

Corinna and the other alchemists were still taken with the idea of this medicinal cuisine. My vague, piecemeal knowledge made it really hard to answer any of their questions, so much so that I’d often sit there in a bit of a daze, combing through my brain for any useful tidbit.

I should stop trying to tell people about things I know nothing about. Next time I’ll just apologize and say I’m not going to be very useful. Yeah, that’s the ticket. I pulled myself together and moved on to the next storefront, where they dealt largely in grains.

They displayed their wares in piles of stacked burlap bags filled with various types of grains. The staple starch in the Kingdom of Salutania was bread, so most of the bags were filled with wheat—and not just one type, either, but different varieties. Back in Japan, I had only ever seen refined, processed grains, but these were still whole.

As I studied them, admiring how many kinds there were, I heard the shopkeeper telling a customer, “This one’s got a hard husk.”

A hard husk? I unconsciously came to a stop upon hearing that.

“What is it?” Corinna asked.

“Sorry, I found something I’d like to examine.”

“Which one?”

“That wheat.” I pointed at the kind the shopkeeper was showing his customer.

Corinna recognized it and told me it was called spelt, which was the same name as a kind of wheat that had been cultivated long ago in Europe.

“It’s used pretty commonly around here. Why did it pique your interest?”

“I read about it in a book back home.”

According to that book, I explained, spelt had a cosmic ton of nutrients compared to more common wheat varieties. A woman in the book, one who had been canonized as a saint back in Europe, had declared it to be the best kind of wheat.

I had never seen spelt in person, but I’d known it was renowned for its hard husk, which was why the shopkeeper’s words had caught my ear.

As I told Corinna about this book, she raised an eyebrow. The part about “nutrients” had aroused her interest. Apparently, they didn’t yet have a concept of nutrients in this world.

As a result, I wound up rambling about how a balanced diet leads to a healthy body and stuff like that. I didn’t know that much about the topic, so I could only describe things in broad, general terms. I also explained that proper nutrients could help you fend off illness or even cure some ailments. I knew this idea wasn’t unique to Japan and was rather a concept adopted from Chinese practice.

Ideas get adopted and adapted all the time. My teacher in the aromatherapy class I’d taken during my spare time had once said something about how the basis of all health comes down to diet. And I was pretty sure she had mentioned that proper meals were the foundation of that.

The West had developed a similar philosophy in its monasteries long ago. The type of research they had conducted there had focused on herbs and cooking. I had read in a book that they had used herbs both for their seasoning and their medicinal benefits.

“And to think I’ve eaten spelt without a second thought all this time. Our wheat’s tremendously valuable, then,” Corinna said.

“That’s how I see it.”

“I wonder what kind of potions we could make with it…?”

“Huh? You can make a potion out of wheat?”

Wait—I’d been thinking about using spelt for food, not potions.

The book I’d read had included recipes by the European saint. As I tried to recall those recipes, I realized the rest of the ingredients were all things I could find in Klausner’s Domain. I bet I could recreate them. Maybe I should give it a try.

“I could definitely make something to eat with it, at least,” I said.

“With spelt, you mean?”

“Exactly,” I said, and I described some of the recipes I was thinking of.

If a person with Cooking skills made food, they could improve the physical abilities of those who ate their cooking. Even food made with regular ingredients could have a noticeable impact on the person who ate it. I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if I made a meal using something as nutritionally potent as spelt.

If I could recreate those recipes, then I bet I could do some fantastic things for the castle menu. This could be my chance.

“It’s not quite like the medicinal cuisine I mentioned before, but I just might be able to make something with similar effects,” I said.

“Is that so?”

“I’d like to give it a try, if I may. Do you think I could borrow the castle kitchens?”

Corinna’s eyes glinted at the mention of the medicinal food. Whatever I made wouldn’t be that exactly, but it would doubtless turn out healthy.

Corinna must have been pretty interested to see what I might whip up, judging from the great big smile she had on her face when she said she’d make a special request to Lord Klausner—one that would allow me to use the kitchens.

 

***

 

Two days after I told Corinna about spelt, I entered the brewery, and Corinna announced that I had received permission to use the kitchens. She had made haste in getting permission from Lord Klausner, which he’d given readily upon hearing Corinna’s explanation.

He even said he was looking forward to eating the kinds of dishes that were so popular in the capital. The castle chefs had a similar take and were delighted to get a chance to learn directly from me.

I felt a bit bad, though, since what I was thinking of making wasn’t remotely fancy.

Preparations were made in the blink of an eye, and soon the day came when I at last entered the castle kitchens. When Corinna and I arrived, we were greeted by a whole bevy of smiling chefs.

“Thank you for allowing us this opportunity to learn the most avant-garde recipes from the capital,” one chef said to me.

“No, no, please, I should be thanking you for granting my sudden request. I look forward to cooking with you today.”

“It will be our pleasure,” they all said together.

I was surprised enough by their gratitude—really, I was the grateful one here!—but I wasn’t planning on making something I had made in the capital, so I hoped I could meet their expectations.

After greetings were over, I tied on an apron and set about cooking. The countertop was already covered with the ingredients I had asked to be prepared ahead of time.

Today, I was going to be making pasta.

First, I mixed the wheat flour made from spelt together with oil, egg, and salt. Unfortunately, they didn’t have olive oil, so I had to use a different kind of vegetable oil.

A long time ago, I had wanted to try making pasta by hand, but I never ended up doing so, so I had a pretty shoddy recollection of how exactly it was made. I warned the chefs that I was just going to be experimenting for the most part, so hopefully they would forgive me if I royally messed it up.

Yeah, okay, backup plan—if this goes weird, I’ll just ask permission to try something else, I thought.

Once I showed them this first part, the other chefs set about making pasta with me. To tell you the truth, they were part of my experiment as well. I wanted to find out if using spelt made a difference versus other kinds of wheat. Therefore, we had to prepare two kinds of pasta: one made from spelt and the other made from another variety.

Also, when word got out that I was going to cook, an unexpected number of people said they wanted to try whatever I made. First there was Lord Klausner and Corinna, then there were the other members of Lord Klausner’s family and the alchemists in the brewery. I could never have made enough pasta for that many people on my own, so I was getting help.

I wanted the chefs’ help for another reason, too: my fifty-percent-bonus curse.

Because I had the Cooking skill, the food I made increased a person’s abilities, and it was also fifty percent more effective than food made by someone with an equivalent skill level. This was why Johan had forbidden me from cooking in public spaces. However, he hadn’t forbidden me from ever cooking at all. In fact, I cooked all the time at the institute.

I think he’d put the kibosh on it because it’d be a problem if too many people knew about my ability. I understood, so my portions would be going to Albert and Lord Klausner’s family. This was a small number of people, and other than Albert, none of them did much strenuous activity, so I didn’t think they would notice the difference in effects.

I also wanted them to have my cooking because, well, I was the one making it. I mean, doesn’t the idea of a meal made by the Saint herself have a special ring to it? Although it does feel kinda awkward to consider my own food as special… But people in high positions like that sort of thing, so…

I had asked Albert, and he’d said it sounded like a good idea.

At any rate, I was impressed by the skill on display as the chefs kneaded the pasta dough. They’d only just listened to my explanation, and here they were, masters in the making. Incredible.

For myself, I was lagging behind. I better focus up and stop getting distracted.

When the surface of the dough became smooth, I put a wet cloth over it and set it aside. Then I started working on the vegetables I was going to add into the dish.

Meat sauce would’ve been delicious, but since I wanted to feature herbs, I decided to make basil pasta. I had a vague feeling that there had been mainly herb-flavored pastas in that book I had read.

I chopped up garlic, onion, basil, and dill. Tragically, the onion made my eyes water like crazy.

Just as I was finished, it was time to start working on the pasta again. I stretched the dough until it was thin, folded it into layers, and then chopped it up to make flat noodles.

Normally, I preferred pasta that was much thinner, but this was the extent of what I could make with my own two hands. They probably weren’t the right kind of noodles for basil pasta, either, but I had given up.

Next, I had to boil the pasta, cook the noodles with the vegetables, and add the seasoning. Then it would be done.

“How’s it going?” Corinna asked as I hovered over the boiling pot.

“It’ll be ready soon.”

She peered into the pot with a great deal of interest from her spot beside me. It was a big pot, so seeing that tiny woman leaning over it brought a smile to my face.

“You called this ‘pasta,’ right? What was the point of changing the type of wheat?”

“I want to see if it makes a difference in the overall effects.”

“The effects?”

“Yeah, you know, like how Cooking skills impact food, which in turn impacts physical abilities.”

“Eh? That’s the first time I’ve ever heard of that.”

“Oh, I thought I mentioned it—it’s been the talk of the capital this year. I guess word hadn’t reached you guys yet.”

“Maybe so. Or perhaps my old ears weren’t paying attention to anything unrelated to potions. That’s quite interesting, though.”

It really did take forever for information to travel in this world and its total lack of telephones or television.

This may sound unbelievable, but my grandma once said that when she was young, it took years for the latest trends in the capital to reach the countryside. And that was when they already had both phones and TV! If what my grandma said was true, then I could absolutely understand why Klausner’s Domain was out of the loop on what was considered common knowledge in the capital.

While we talked, the pasta finished boiling, so I drained the water and tossed the noodles into the frying pan I had at the ready.

I started off with a single portion. I was planning to have the chefs taste it, after which they would make their own portions.

The head chef stood opposite Corinna to watch what I did. The other chefs studied me from a short distance away, so I couldn’t help but feel nervous from my skin to my bones.

I only added salt to make the flavor pop, but when I tasted the pasta after—it was delicious. Bright, fresh, and just a little rich. I plated the noodles and stepped back.

“It’s done,” I declared as I placed the plate in front of the head chef. She quickly reached to take a taste.

As she did, her eyes widened, her mouth went slack, and then—she smiled in utter delight. That look really made a weight fall right off my shoulders.

 

***

 

“This is herb-flavored pasta handmade by Lady Sei,” the butler announced as all the plates were brought out at once.

It was finally time for everyone to get a taste.

In the dining hall, I sat with Lord Klausner, his family, and Albert.

“I have very much been looking forward to trying your cooking,” Lord Klausner’s wife told me excitedly.

“I hope you enjoy it,” I responded with an awkward chuckle. Please let the flavor be okay.

Though the butler had said I’d made it, really, it was the head chef who had put it all together. All I’d done was make the pasta. I felt a bit conflicted being given the credit for the important parts—you know, like the seasoning? Oh well.

I’d had no choice but to ask the head chef to finish preparing the dishes so that I could be seated at the table with Lord Klausner and everyone else. I didn’t even have the option to enjoy eating on my own later—I had suggested this, but the butler vetoed it.

“Please eat before it grows cold.”

Simultaneously, everyone took their first bite. As soon as I did, a refreshing flavor spread through my mouth. The fragrance of the herbs accented the flavor, and although besides the herbs it was only seasoned with salt, it was absolutely delectable. Great job, head chef!

I heard comments all through the dining hall about how amazing the dish smelled and how mouthwateringly good it was, too. As I scanned the room, everyone had smiles on their faces. I was relieved to see the noble family was enjoying their meal.

“So this is what you call ‘pasta’? I heard that you made this with flour,” Lord Klausner said.

“That’s right.”

“I also heard this was a recipe from the country you came from, but, you know, I’ve actually eaten something similar to this before.”

“You have?”

“Not in the kingdom, but once, when I went abroad. It was a dish eaten quite frequently by commoners as well. I believe they called it ‘noodles.’”

“Noodles! Maybe it’s the same type of food as pasta after all. They’re synonyms, in a way.”

“Oh, is that so?”

He told me more about this foreign dish he’d tried, which had involved pouring a sauce over noodles. I hadn’t seen a single noodle dish since my summoning, so I had assumed they simply didn’t exist in Salutania. However, it turned out that, while not common in this kingdom, noodles did exist in other countries in this world. Maybe it had to do with the availability of ingredients?

I’ll ask the merchant who stops by the institute later, I thought.

Then I heard a surprised “Hm?” from right next to me.

I looked toward the sound to find Albert furrowing his brow.

“Is something the matter?” I asked.

“No, nothing…” he trailed off, seeming somewhat evasive.

I wonder what it could be? Albert had said he wasn’t picky about his food, but herbs were still pretty new for every Salutanian palate. Could it be he didn’t like one of the kinds I’d used today? No…but I’ve used all these herbs at the institute before. It can’t be that. Then what is it?

I peered closely at Albert’s face, but he just gave me a forced yet perplexed smile and deflected with a, “Never mind.”

At the same time, I felt like I heard someone nearby gasp, but that was probably just my imagination.

The dinner party came to a successful end, and before I knew it, it was the following day. When I went to deliver potions to the knights in their quarters, I finally learned why Albert had made that face.

“It recovered your HP?” I echoed, eyes wide.

“Yeah, that’s right. Only some of us got that effect, though.”

Ultimately, I’d given in and done some more vigorous experiments with my pasta—some had gone to the Knights of the Third Order. I just really wanted to know about the effects, okay?

And anyway, I’d had the knights participate in my cooking research before, so they were used to it. And they immediately agreed to participating this time, since it meant they got to eat something different and delicious.

As it turned out, the two pasta types had produced clearly different results. In addition to the empowering effects of pasta made from regular wheat, pasta made from spelt also recovered missing HP.

I’d been extremely careful about keeping my ingredients and methodology exactly the same in every respect for both batches, so it was probably safe to assume that HP recovery was an effect of spelt.

Albert had no doubt been experiencing this effect when he made that face at the dinner table.

“When you say it recovered your HP, do you mean you were instantly healed?” I asked the knight.

“No, it was a gradual recovery over time.”

I asked because I was now wondering if this spelt pasta could be used in place of a potion, but this gradual recovery was certainly different. The knights had also found that today, they’d needed less time to recover between training sessions.

A knight who had been listening to our conversation piped up. “I’m pretty sure it increased the rate at which we naturally recover HP, too.”

“Oh, that could be what’s going on,” one of the knights said thoughtfully.

“Oh, has your interval shortened?” I asked.

“More or less. I think I’m getting back more over the same period of time. I’d have to check, though.”

To be sure, they would’ve had to check their stats after eating the meal, then checked again after a set interval and compared their recovery to what it was on a day when they hadn’t eaten the spelt pasta. As they talked this over, the knights started glancing at me with mournful eyes.

Demanding seconds, eh? Fine, fine.

I would have to borrow the kitchens again to figure this out. The only problem would be whether I could get permission a second time.

“I’ll see if I can get back into the kitchens,” I told them with a tentative smile.

“Oh, right. This isn’t the palace.”

“Too bad.”

The knights resigned themselves as well.

It seemed like the herb-flavored pasta really had been a surprisingly big hit. The knights seemed more disappointed that they wouldn’t get the chance to eat it again than by the fact that we wouldn’t be able to research its effects.

While we were discussing this, Albert came downstairs. “I didn’t know you were here, Sei.”

“Oh, I came to deliver some potions again.”

“Thanks. We’ll need those.” At Albert’s direction, one of the knights picked the box of potions up from the table and carried it into the back.

Ah, right. I had completely forgotten why I was here and wound up getting absorbed in talking in the hall.

I was here for two reasons, actually. The first was to deliver the potions. The other was to ask Albert if there had been any recent developments in the surveys. I had been planning to ask about the food after I completed those first two objectives, but the knights caught me when I was passing them on my way to Albert’s office. I should have stopped myself and gone straight to Albert. I had told him that I was coming today, after all.

“I’m sorry, I was planning to go directly to you, but they were talking about last night’s dinner, and before I knew it…”

“Ah, yes. That was utterly divine.” That dazzling smile of his spread across his face.

I’d thought I was used to it by now, but it was still hard to keep looking at Albert when he did that. I desperately tried to switch gears and focus on the conversation. “Th-thank you. The knights were just telling me their thoughts.”

“Were they now? They’ve been talking about it all morning.”

“Speaking of which—I was wondering if you made that face because you noticed its effects, too?”

“Ha, so I did. I wasn’t sure it was quite the moment to discuss it, so I held back at the time.”

Albert had kept quiet so as not to draw the attention of Lord Klausner and his family. Although the effects of my cooking had become common knowledge in the palace, it was often hard to tell just how much information had been released to the public, so he’d avoided making an observation just in case.

From there, we really dug into the effects of spelt. Because the knights had been talking about it since that morning, Albert had quite a few reports to pass on.

“I suppose we can’t say if it has healing effects in itself or if it actually increases the speed of our bodily processes. I’d have to make more batches to really investigate this,” I said.

“That could be difficult. The chefs have a job to do in there, too.”

“Yeah… I guess it’d be better to wait until we get back to the palace, then.”

“So long as we know it hastens HP recovery, that’s good enough for me. We can discern the underlying mechanics later.”

After all, being able to recover HP more quickly during the expedition might well become critical—someone’s life could end up depending on it.

But, well, it would be hard to traipse around the forest armed with pasta. I doubted it would stay good if they brought it in a lunchbox or something. However, if the HP recovery effect was a particular characteristic of spelt, maybe I could figure out a way to make something more practically useful out of it.

I sure wish I could experiment with spelt bread or something… I guess I’ll have to wait until we get back to the palace, I thought as I left the knights’ quarters.