Chapter 56: The Oubeniel Dining Table (5)

But just before that happened.

"Dear? ......Linus, what are you doing here without the lights on?"

The door opened and light from the hallway filtered into the room.

With her back to it, the shadow of a woman appeared in the backlight.

(Who. Is. It…...?)

His brain was short circuiting and was on the verge of exploding. The past and the present and his jumbled up memories overlapped his vision.

A dark room. A woman. His exhausted self. He was breathing hard like an animal. The shadow of a woman in the dimness.

(Oh, that’s right......)

The confusion in his mind and the liquor he had consumed at the dinner gave Linus a conclusion.

Oh, yes. That's the woman in front of him.

—his slave.

Did she come to be struck by me, just like previously? Did she come to be held?

"............"

With the impulse from his memory, Linus pulled himself up from the bed and approached the woman. He grabbed her by the hair with one hand to prevent her from escaping, and locked the door with the other.

He was so happy. He didn't know that there was someone who would be there for him when he was in so much pain and suffering. He didn't know that there was someone who would take care of him, someone who would help him through this pain.

"Ow! Hey, hey! Stop it, you're hurting me! Linus? Hey, are you listening to me?!"

Linus smiled gently at the woman who screamed in protest. If there had been a light to illuminate his face, it might have made the viewer think it was a crazy smile.

"Shut up, slave girl."

He ordered, as if this had played out before.

A slave should not call out to her master like that. She should behave in a more frightened and flirtatious voice, and gently reassure him that he was above her, as she had always done.

So Linus, as usual, pulled the woman by the arm to the bed and threw her down on it.

"Yikes! Wait, what? ......what are you doing?!"

He liked the fierce resistance that was not always there.

He'll hold her down with his hands and make her feel helpless to the fullest. Let's make her admit once again that she was inferior to him. That's what this is all about, isn't it? She had always satisfied herself that way.

Linus chuckled and draped himself over the bed.

I love you, he admitted for the first time in his life in a whisper.

※ ※ ※

"I'm screwed...... I'm screwed......"

The man was sitting helplessly, muttering in a hollow tone. He took off his hat, which indicated his position, scratched his thinning head, and continued to look desperate.

The subordinate let out a sigh of exasperation at the man's condition.

"I wonder if he's okay, this guy."

"No, I guess not, not for a while."

Another subordinate shrugged.

"But was it that much of a shock?"

"It can't be helped. After all, he lost to a slave."

"......Don’t say that I lost!"

The man slammed his hand on the chopping board, and his men cowered in unison.

They were in the kitchen. The man was the head chef of the Count of Oubeniel's family. He had come from the royal capital to prepare food for the Count, the Countess and their guests.

However, the one who prepared the dinner they had on the first night was a lowly female slave who was not fit to be in charge of the kitchen. He objected to it and tried to kick her out of the kitchen.

“Before that, please open your mouth a little. Yes, just like that—then please enjoy.”

The taste of the food that was thrown into his mouth made him lose all words. The man who came from the royal capital with great enthusiasm was overwhelmed by the taste of the test quiche, and was forced to leave the kitchen.

The chef was stunned for a while, but as soon as he came back to himself, he sank into a depression......, and now he was here.

"I-I'm no match for that savage female slave! Yes, yes, she must have been cheating! She must have mixed some magic potion into the food to change the taste! She's an assistant to that alchemist, after all! Damn that whore! She must have shook her ass at the second son and begged him for some weird potion!"

This time, he manically tried to find excuses for himself and cursed Uni for beating him. The subordinate cooks all struck a pose of disapproval at the sight of their boss. They hated the cocky, iron-faced slave and her notoriously cruel owner. However, when their immediate superior behaved in a way that made them think, "This is not how I want to be as a person," they couldn’t decide whose side to take.

"Well, if you say so......, I hope you can entertain the Count with your cooking tomorrow."

"Yes, that's right. And I'm told that the thing is only going to stand in for today."

"Hmph, of course! I will teach you the taste of Broussonne, the taste of royalty and nobility!"

The head chef declared with a snort.

One of his men pointed him to a basin lying in the corner of the kitchen.

"So, how about we start with a dish that uses the same ingredients to show the difference in class?"

"Huh?"

The chef didn't notice the basin until he was told about it.

It was a large basin that took several people to carry. It was filled with water and several live eels were wriggling around in it.

"What the hell is this?"

"What is it? Obviously eels."

"I can see that, you damned fool! How come there are eels here!"

"Haa...... maybe they made a mistake in ordering and received too many ingredients. They did say since there are many more of these eels, whoever is cooking tomorrow, please use them."

He said while dexterously grabbing an eel. The fish, with its long, slimy body, slumped in his subordinate's hand as if appealing to be released.

"It's very active, isn't it? We’ll be able to enjoy them for the rest of the week at this rate."

"Oh, taking a closer look, there's also a turtle inside...... Ouch! This turtle, it bites! It bit me!"

The head chef's shoulders slumped as he watched his men playing with the food in the basin.

He imagined the menu for tomorrow, and what the nobles would think when they tasted it.

"Oh, the same ingredients......? You want me to use that? You want me to use the same ingredients to make that delicious... no, I mean, slave made food? Ha, ha, ha ......."

Of course, if served with dishes with the same ingredients, the eater would compare the taste of it with the previous one. What if, as a result, he was rated as a poorer chef than the slave?

He would be disqualified as a chef.

He would lose the right to enter the kitchen of the house of the Oubeniels.

These thoughts passed through his mind.

"It's over...... It's still over...... I'm screwed......"

The man sank back into despair. He had no choice but to be in despair when he thought about his bleak future as a chef.

The eels swam unconcernedly in the basin. They were swimming in the cramped water, unaware of the sorrows and joys of humanity and of their own fate as food.