As expected, the potato croquette was a hit. It could be served as a legitimate side dish too. And its nutritional value was on par with edamame.
“But it doesn’t take long to get sick of croquettes.”
Croquettes today, croquettes tomorrow... There was a song like that that came out in the Showa period.
“Originally from the Taisho period. The one you’ve heard of is a remake.”
There went her trivia again. As soon as I gave one little fun-fact, she pounced on it.
“While it was a high-class western food at the time, you would get sick of it eating it every day. A satire.”
“What, really?”
Wasn’t it about a housewife who couldn’t cook anything else thanking her husband for happily eating the croquettes day after day?
“The connotation changed when it was remade. By the late 1950s it wasn’t expensive or high-class anymore.”
“I see...”
Culinary history is our history. Still, Tiamat hit the nail on the head. The croquettes, now fresh and popular, would soon become mundane. We weren’t nearing an actual solution unless we popularized the habit of eating a balanced meal. Pork would make things a lot easier, but alas.
“No sense wishing for the impossible. I just had an idea though. How about a dish using rice bran?”
Well, we wouldn’t struggle for supplies. So much is produced as a byproduct of rice refinement. But what could we make from rice bran...?
Oh.
“Pickled vegetables?”
“Mm-hm. Bran pickling, wasn’t it called?”
It was. And rice bran contains plenty of vitamin B1, which meant that bran pickled foods could yield a good amount of it too. Unfortunately, I didn’t know how much that amount was.
“I think so. Don’t know much about it, though.”
“Can’t be helped. I don’t eat pickled things either.”
Like Tiamat said, it couldn’t be helped. Pickles and vinegar-y things weren’t really my cup of tea. Naturally, I didn’t know how to make any, as well as their nutritional contents. I doubted we could just shove vegetables in a pile of rice bran.
Tiamat, or my fiancée, didn’t like pickled vegetables either. Nor did she like natto. Of course, she had her trivia databank, so she should have known how to make it.
How do I put this... We didn’t really feel like making something we didn’t like. Please understand. We would’ve had to taste it ourselves and advertise how good it was.
“Perhaps we can teach them the method as a means of preserving food.”
Even Tiamat backed out. The hungry-hungry-dragon was being a little chicken.
“Besides, we won’t be staying in this country for long.”
“True.”
A week had passed since we started selling croquettes. It was about time the king made his next move. The buyouts of edamame didn’t yield the results they expected, and our dishes still continued to save people. The kingdom’s reputation fell as the Hermits’ reputation rose. I doubted that the leader of Azur was so deep into la-la land to be a jolly, happy fellow in this situation.
“Their next step must be to illegalize it.”
“Yep. And ask us to leave the country, I guess.”
I shrugged. They wanted to avoid us gaining even more of a positive reputation, but it was proving difficult for them to take care of us with blunt force. The best solution for them now was to have us leave the country.
“Sir Eiji, Lady Tiamat. Are you still up?”
There was a polite knock on the door, followed by a voice. It was Mister Milon.
“Yes. What is it?”
“A royal messenger.”
“Here we go.”
We stood up from the edge of the bed. A week had passed since we started selling the croquettes, and twenty days had passed since the throne monopolized edamame.
The messenger was the Viscount Zahreed from the other day. Beside him was a figure whose face was cloaked under his hood. I recognized him. I may have been stupid, but not enough to forget my own killer.
“Nice to meet you, King Reinhart Mishima.”
I audaciously addressed him... as my voice kind of cracked. It seemed that I still wasn’t over it. Our guests jolted, having been discovered before revealing the face under the hood. I could sense their fear. Now we were even. I was scared of my killer, and he was scared that I knew who he was at our first meeting. Finally we were on equal grounds.
“...You said to come here if I wanted something from you. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Then please, have a seat.”
We all sat down, the meeting room table between both pairs. King Reinhart sat across from me and Viscount Zahreed across from Tiamat. Slowly, the King pulled back his hood. He seemed to deem it useless since I knew who he was.
“Then let us hear what brought you out here.”
Tiamat remained silent, but I could sense that she was on edge from her portrait. To her, having me killed right under her nose was an unbelievable mistake. If I could put a little faith in myself here, I would have been the same way if my fiancée was killed before my very eyes. There would not be a second time. Never again.
“Sir Eiji... Uh, Master Hermit.”
Why did you switch it up?
“Yes?”
“Please. We need your help to save our country.”
“Hm? I have acted with that very intention since the day I’ve arrived at Lishua.”
I didn’t understand. What did they think we’ve been doing all this time?
“The other day, we suffered a casualty in the royal army. The first death from that strange disease,” the king said, keeping his voice down.
I scoffed internally. That was a lie. Out on the streets, people have been dying for years; I was sure that many soldiers had already died, too. It’s a little too convenient for their first death to hit now.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
I put on my best sympathetic expression I could find. I had enough mind and decency to not laugh off such news, true or false.
“Why did this happen?! I told him to eat the Hermit Beans! Why did he die?!” King Reinhart raised his voice.
Well... because he didn’t eat them. You think people will just eat what you tell them to, Your Highness?
“Did you take away your blessing on them after we bought out the Hermit Beans?!”
I realized his understanding. Not that there was any kind of blessing to begin with. But I doubted that this king would believe the truth if I told him. People only see and hear what they want to. King Reinhart and myself were no exception.
“A Hermit’s blessing can’t be withdrawn or tacked on so easily.”
“Then explain his death!”
“Did that soldier really eat the Hermit Beans, as much as he needed to? Did you watch him eat them, Your Highness?”
“...I...”
“Of course you didn’t. You can’t be expected to supervise every soldier’s every meal. They could throw the beans away while you’re not looking. Besides, who would want to eat such a thing when they’ve only known it to be livestock feed, just because of an order?”
“...”
“Do you realize why we had been using them in appetizing meals to serve the people?”
I decided to dig a little deeper into King Reinhart as he fell silent. Surely, I was allowed to give him a little taste of his own medicine. He had derailed our operation when we had finally got it on course. And, he killed me once.
“Same goes for gagd meat. Instead of forcing them on people, I believe we need to use them in a way where the people would want to eat them, even when no one is looking.”
The ruler of this nation sulked into his seat.