Rose’s small, selfish request was to eat cookies baked by yours truly, so I was taking a crack at baking—an activity I had little experience with—to grant it. However, I was doing far worse than I’d anticipated. The lumps of flour lining the tray were long past the beautiful golden brown of a fox and were more like a shade of black bear. The dough had looked like dry clay before I’d even put them in the oven, so failure had already been inevitable by that point. I’d bet on a sliver of hope and baked them anyway, but a miracle had not occurred.
I picked up a lump of coal and tossed it into my mouth. It had a gritty texture and a strong, bitter taste. My face scrunched up at the burnt smell that filled my nose.
My wife was a skilled cook, and the cookies she made were buttery, crispy, and chewy, and they practically melted in your mouth. On top of that, one could enjoy her wide repertoire of flavors, like black tea or citrus, and even enjoy the crunchy texture of nuts. I didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but her cookies were so delicious that even I couldn’t help reaching for more.
I knew I couldn’t match Rose’s skills, but this is just plain terrible. If Rose’s creations are cookies, then this is nothing but charcoal trash.
“I knew it... It’d be better if I had someone instructing me every step of the way,” I muttered.
When I had the chef teach me how to make cookies, I should’ve asked for a demonstration instead of just listening to a verbal explanation. And I should’ve summarized the steps on a piece of paper and drilled them into my brain. I intended to prepare as much as possible, but I underestimated my incompetence.
“That would be a surefire way to success, but you’d be hard-pressed to call that handmade by you,” Klaus pointed out.
“Urgh,” I groaned.
As a matter of fact, a chef had stayed with me until I’d finished measuring the ingredients. It must have been mortifying to silently watch me clumsily do a slipshod job—the chef had eventually taken away my task nonchalantly, and I’d ended up just standing there halfway through. Therefore, this product couldn’t be attributed to one person’s work. Frankly, I’d been unable to order that poor chef to stand back and watch when they’d looked like they were getting a stomachache.
After all the ingredients had been assembled and measured, I’d declared to the kitchen that I would do the rest myself, and all the chefs had reluctantly stepped outside. Only Klaus had refused to bend. In his words, “It would be outrageous to allow Lady Rosemary to eat something when I don’t know what’s inside.”
So Klaus had stood to the side as an observer. Somehow, I’d managed to finish baking the cookies while he’d quibbled over my every move, but the result was as described: I absolutely did not want to feed these to my wife.
“Wasn’t Lady Rosemary merely jesting in the first place?” Klaus asked.
“Well, perhaps.” She was probably only about twenty percent serious and eighty percent joking. I presume she said that with the intention of teasing me. “Nevertheless, it was a rare show of selfishness, so I want to grant her wish.”
Rose is terrible at asking for help, and she loathes inconveniencing others. She doesn’t even make menu requests to the kitchen out of fear that she might waste the chefs’ efforts. She gave me—and only me—a clear-cut selfish demand. That put me over the moon. So even if it was a joke, it’s a given that I’d want to grant her wish.
I was lost in blissful reminiscence when I heard a loud cluck from my side. It seemed my expression had melted because Klaus was glaring hateful daggers at me. He had never been shy about displaying how he felt about me, but lately, he seemed to have even fewer reservations.
“Hey now,” I warned.
“Pardon me. There was something stuck in my teeth.” Klaus put on an aloof expression and turned away.
I swallowed my complaint and sighed instead. At this point, it’s far too late to reprimand him for his poor attitude. Nothing will change—he’ll simply toss out an empty apology. Besides, courtesy or respect for his superiors is not what I want from Klaus. All I ask is that he be Rose’s loyal guard, and there’s no one I trust more than Klaus on that front.
“I’ll remake them,” I decided.
“Please try not to waste too many ingredients,” he replied.
“I’m sure I’ll be a little more adept this time. It’ll be fine.” I ignored his dubious look, which said without words, Will it really?
I moved the charcoal cookies to the side and began measuring the ingredients once more.
“By the way, what is Rose doing now?” I asked.
“A short while ago, she was writing letters of thanks in the parlor, but she is currently taking a nap in her bedroom.”
“She’s struggling to sleep because of the nausea. She woke up several times last night... And her guards?”
“There are two knights stationed in front of her door. Ratte is standing guard outside.”
“I see.”
Ratte was a man as eccentric as Klaus, but his abilities and loyalty to Rose were indisputable. Apparently, he and Klaus did not mesh well, but they acknowledged each other’s skills.
“Due to His Majesty’s timely deterrent measures, there won’t be any conspicuous movements for the foreseeable future. However, the issue now is that his plan was too effective. I’m concerned that the spike in brownnosers has created far too much work for Lady Rosemary.”
“We intend to defer all meeting requests until Rose’s condition stabilizes.”
“Then she should also defer writing replies.” There was a deep crease carved between Klaus’s eyebrows.
To tell the truth, I also wished Rose would prioritize her own health. However, being overprotective would put mental strain on her. Moreover, for Rose—who had avoided mingling with high-ranking nobles since her time as a princess—exchanging letters was crucial to her social life. Originally, she had intended to proactively attend soirees and tea parties this year, but that was off the table now that she was pregnant, so it was all the more important that she stay on top of written correspondence.
I shook my head at Klaus. “Don’t say that. I’m also worried about Rose’s health, but we need to consider the long term. It’s better to gain more allies.”
“Even though they’re just turncoats who’ll change their tune depending on His Majesty’s movements?”
“Not everyone is like that.”
Klaus was partially right—there were indeed some people who’d only reached out because of the new knowledge that Rose was on good terms with the king and crown prince. However, there were also many who were interested in Rose for her achievements. Lumping everyone together under one negative perception would be a waste.
“Prelier is currently the most attention-grabbing domain in the kingdom, and now His Majesty has given people an additional reason to keep an eye on us. Those who will try to use and exploit Lady Rosemary’s people will be a dime a dozen,” Klaus insisted.
“Identifying those people is my duty. Besides...” I paused. Klaus urged me to continue with his gaze. “Besides, Rose isn’t so weak.”
She’s kind, but that’s not all. I know she’s fought tooth and nail this past year and a half to protect her subjects as their feudal lord and as the medical facility’s overseer.
“Neither you nor I should get in her way,” I said.
Deep down, I wanted to keep my beloved wife at a safe distance from danger. I harbored the desire to tuck her away deep inside the mansion so that no one could ever hurt her. But if I did that, all of Rose’s efforts would have been in vain. I knew Klaus also understood that. Though his lips were drawn into a thin line and his brow was furrowed, he didn’t argue.
He was sulking in silence now, so I called his name. “Klaus.”
“What is it?” He glowered at me.
“Back to the topic at hand, which one is flour?” After I had finished measuring the ingredients the first time, I’d put away all the surplus ingredients so they wouldn’t get in the way. I knew flour was in one of the jute bags, but there were multiple. Every single one contained whitish powder, and I couldn’t discern what was what.