Being a prince, Elliott had a number of jobs he had to do daily. Moreover, there had recently been a massive increase in the amount of paperwork he had to sign and the number of inspections he had to perform, so his days were so busy that he forgot all about that aggravating dungeon.
Unfortunately, Elliott was forced to remember its infuriating inhabitant when he looked outside during tea time and spotted smoke rising from near a building he was all too familiar with.
“Fine weather we’re having today,” Elliott remarked.
“Can you see that, Your Highness?” Sykes asked. “There’s smoke.”
“Maybe I’ll take Margaret out for a long ride up the hill.”
“That’s near the dungeon, right? Is she burning firewood or something?”
“Now that I think about it, I’ve been overworking recently and not getting enough exercise. That’s not good.”
“Huh? I smell meat cooking. Whoa, this is really getting my appetite going.”
“All right, let’s head out of town for the day! We’ll set out as soon as Margaret arrives, so go get the horses ready!”
“Your Highness, are you listening? Rachel’s up to something again.”
“Sykes, His Highness is trying not to notice...” George cut in.
Elliott dragged himself down to the dungeon—partly out of a sense of obligation—and when he arrived, he saw two men by the door, packing up a barbecue. Based on their dress, they were chefs in training. Elliott ignored them and proceeded inside.
“Huh? You’re not going to interrogate them, Your Highness?” Sykes asked, tugging on Elliott’s sleeve.
Elliott turned around with a sour look on his face. “Look at them. They’re just flunkies. Whatever’s going on here, the main attraction is downstairs. And so is the cause of it. Of that we can be certain.”
“After all, my sister can’t leave her cell,” George noted.
Elliott and George nodded at each other, but Sykes kept on going, unwilling to accept their answer so easily.
“But, Your Highness...” he started.
“What, did you have something more to say?” Elliott replied.
“If you don’t leave Miss Rachel alone and stop them right now, they’re going to pack up and leave without cooking any for us.”
“That’s your priority?! Food?!”
Down in the dungeon, a well-set chef was standing in front of the bars and explaining the various dishes.
“This is today’s main dish, prison-style rare beef fillet. Normally, I cook the meat on an iron plate so that it looks nice, but this time, I chose to cook on a grill to create the image of iron bars. As for the sauce, I couldn’t use the juices to make it, so I cooked it directly in the charcoal flame in order to give it a fragrant, smoky flavor that I think has a certain rustic charm to it.”
After Rachel put a small slice of the steak in her mouth, she cheerfully declared, “It’s delicious! This sauce is so different from what I’ve had in the restaurant.”
“I took my inspiration from your own beauty, Lady Ferguson, and used bitter chocolate as the base for the sauce.”
“Oh, you are such a flatterer!”
As the customer and the chef happily exchanged opinions on the food, Elliott called out, “Isn’t it about time you listened to what we have to say?”
The blank looks on Rachel and the chef’s faces seemed to say, “Huh? What does he want?”
Elliott glanced at his associates. George nodded slightly and stepped forward. He glowered at Rachel, pointing at the plate in front of her.
“Sister, about all of this food... How did you get the plates into your cell?”
“That’s not what I wanted to know!” Elliott yelled.
The chef bowed. “My apprentices put the plates in ahead of time, and then I placed the meat on them with tongs and put on the finishing touches inside.”
“So that’s how it worked!” George said excitedly.
“I told you, that part doesn’t matter!” Elliott shouted, pushing George aside. “Rachel, I told you before, didn’t I?! No ordering food in.”
Rachel swallowed the bite in her mouth, nodding earnestly. “Yes, you did say that.”
“I see. Then what is this, exactly?”
Rachel looked down at her plate. “Goodness, Your Highness. This isn’t order-in food.”
“Oh? Then what is it?”
“This is catering,” Rachel answered, flashing Elliott an innocent smile.
“That’s the same thing, you idiot!” Elliott looked around with bloodshot eyes. “I’m sure I ask this every time, but what is the prison guard doing?!”
The moment Elliott said that, his eyes met with those of the guard, who was sitting in his chair. He held a plate with the same food Rachel had and was munching on a mouthful of meat. When his eyes met the prince’s, he hurriedly swallowed, then grinned and shot the prince a thumbs-up.
“It’s all good! Nothing suspicious has come though! I’ve been carefully testing it all for poison!”
“You’re not testing it for poison, you’re just tasting it! And I don’t care what’s in this wretch’s food! You let her buy you off for a measly scrap of meat!”
“No, Your Highness. I’m not nearly so cheap. I insisted on a full course meal from the beginning.”
While Elliott considered summarily executing the guard, Rachel finished her steak and laid down her fork.
“Your Highness. All I’ve done is order in...catering, you know?”
“Just now, you were about to say you ordered in food, weren’t you?” Elliott prodded.
Ignoring Elliott’s reasonable objection, Rachel replied, “There is going to be a party at the House of Ferguson soon, so I was taste-testing the food we’ll be serving.”
“There’s no need for you to taste-test the food in prison when they have me, sister,” George pointed out.
Tragically, George was ignored too, because Elliott burst out laughing and interjected, “You, taste-testing party food?! When you can’t attend yourself?! What, are they going to put up banners saying you sponsored it?! Or maybe read a little message from you saying you’re wishing for their success from afar?!”
Rachel might have pulled a lot of nonsense, but she clearly wasn’t going to be attending a gathering at her house. It was comical how diligently she was helping plan a party she couldn’t go to herself. Did Rachel not realize how ridiculous she looked? It was the first time Elliott had been so satisfied by anything that involved Rachel, and he just couldn’t stop laughing.
Rachel watched Elliott cackle triumphantly. She thought of the letter hidden beneath her plate and smiled.
I’m glad it’s to your liking, Your Highness. You’ll be attending too, of course?
When they saw how adorable Margaret looked all dolled up, Elliott and her other orbiters all smiled broadly.
“You’re beautiful, Margaret. Like a flowery fairy,” Elliott said rather dreamily.
“Oh, Your Highness!”
The way Margaret glared at him in embarrassment was just the cutest. Instead of the perfected beauty of an adult face, hers was full of that girlish charm that existed in the fleeting moments on the path to maturity. Elliott had thought that the evening dress with the low-cut neckline might be too gaudy for her still-youthful beauty, but... Actually, the incongruity worked in her favor!
Seeing how good she looks in it, I’m glad I gave it to her, Elliott thought, grinning.
Wolanski walked up next to him, a goofy grin on his face—essentially the same expression as the prince.
“She’s marvelously beautiful, Your Highness,” he commented.
“Yes, Margaret is truly adorable,” Elliott agreed.
“Yes, truly. The strapless tube dress was an especially good choice.”
“I know, right? It took me some time to decide when I went clothes shopping with her, but I thought that keeping the frills and ribbons to a minimum and going with a simple, mature design might be good.”
Elliott was proud that someone was complimenting his choice, and Wolanski kept coming up with more points to praise.
“Yes. By squeezing them so that it doesn’t slip down, the dress accentuates her modest breasts in a truly wonderful way!”
“That’s a rather...unique perspective,” Elliott muttered.
“Is it? I think it’s quite normal, myself. As chairman of the Flat Chest Society in our kingdom, I would like to award Miss Margaret with the title of Flat Girl of the Year!”
Everything this man was saying was strange.
“I don’t think her breasts are that nonexistent...” Elliott contested.
“What is a man of your stature saying, Your Highness?! The flatness must be subtle yet still assertive! We don’t go for just any sheer cliff or washboard, no! If you can’t understand the subtlety of this line, Your Highness, then you’ll never be more than a second-rate flat-chester!”
“If I am ever first-rate at that, I think it’ll be the end of me,” Elliott said as Wolanski breathed heavily through his nostrils. “You act like this, and yet your family name is Booblansky.”
“Wolanski, Your Highness.”
After Margaret finished savoring her new dress, she struck one last pose before running to Elliott’s side.