Master and Slaves

"Um, Helene. Can I borrow the kitchen... of this maid? The cooking area?... Anyway, can you ask the maid if I can use the place to cook?"

Helene looked at me with a puzzled expression and asked.

"I’m going to cook something easy to eat for Muriel."

"I’ll do it myself!"

As soon as I answered Helene, Cathy immediately barged in.

"It’s fine. I’ll do it, so, Cathy, can you nurse Muriel?"

"... Yes."

"Then, I entrust it to you, Cathy. Tiria too. Sophia, get along well."

I stroked the head of the reluctantly agreeing Cathy, left the room with Helene.

On the way, the maid who guided us to the kitchen area.

It was a fairly wide space.

In the center was a large table with various ingredients placed on it, probably for dinner.

Several ovens were lined up near the wall, with pots on them and fire lit underneath.

Several people were busily moving around the kitchen.

The maid who had guided us spoke to one of them, a man in his fifties cooking in the back.

This man was the head chef and responsible for the kitchen of this house.

"Ah, excuse me, but I was told by a guest that I can use this...."

"Eh? No way! Absolutely not!"

"However...."

"You’re in the middle of preparing dinner for tonight! Later!"

"Just a little."

I cut into the maid’s and the head chef’s conversation.

"That guest of yours is Freit-sama. It’s full of preparation for dinner right now. Later, please."

"I just want to cook a little. I beg you."

I bowed my head as I said that.

"Hey hey, don’t bow to me. You’ll anger Freit-sama.... Haa, fine, fine. Raise your face. But don’t get in my way."

"I understand, thank you. Thank you too."

I thanked the head chef and the maid, rolled up my sleeves, and entered the kitchen.

"Then, I’ll return."

"Ah, thank you, Helene. I’ll return as soon as it’s done."

"Yes. Then."

Helene bowed and left.

I followed the head chef deeper into the kitchen.

We went all the way to the back, where there was a table.

"If you have any business, ask the one over there."

When the head chef pointed at the boy around 10 years old washing dishes at the sink next to the table, he was the one.

The head chef approached the boy and called out.

"Hey, Mirco. This customer wants to cook here. Teach him a lot."

"Understood, boss."

Mirco, called by that name, stopped washing and turned back, answering the head chef.

"Are there any ingredients you need?"

"A pot, and rice...."

"There’s a pot on the shelf there. The rice is in the barrel over there, so use as much as you like. They said they’re done using it. But rice, what are you using it for?"

"To cook. Um, the pot... ah, there’s a clay pot. Let’s use that. And...."

While I was answering Mirco and searching the shelf, I found what looked like a clay pot.

It wasn’t flat, but it was ceramic-like, so it would probably make better rice.

"’Tak’... what is that?"

"Ah, um... to simmer...?"

"I can’t ask you about that...."

I didn’t know what to answer, and Mirco also tilted his head in confusion.

"Well, watch."

I told Mirco that, transferred the rice into the clay pot, and rinsed it with the water in the water jar.

When I touched it with my hand, I realized the grains were long and thin.

This was probably long-grain rice.

After rinsing it about seven times, I flattened the rice, added quite a lot of water, and left it without heating.

"...What are you doing?"

"I’m letting the rice absorb water."

"...And that makes it delicious?"

"It should...."

I really wanted to leave it longer, but since I was in a hurry, I heated it after a little while.

"You have a good hand."

"I’ve been doing this for a while."

"Did you eat rice?"

"Yeah."

I covered the pot, placed a stone on top.

"Now, wait a while."

"Hm, but you make it so easily, is it delicious?"

Mirco kept staring at the pot and asked.

He had been watching me the whole time, but were the dishes not washed?

"Enjoyment after it’s done. By the way, can you make this fire weak?"

"I can manage, but the oven over there has a weaker fire, so you’d better move it there."

I see. That’s why there are so many ovens.

"Understood."

After answering Mirco, I stood still and watched the pot without doing anything.

Mirco was watching the pot like me.

From around, I was being watched with strange eyes, but I didn’t care.

"...Ah, it’s probably almost time."

From the pot came gutsu gutsu, and it immediately sputtered.

"Uwa, the pot is boiling over!"

Mirco tried to take the lid off.

"Don’t touch it!"

I warned Mirco, grabbed the pot with a cloth, set it on the weak oven, and shifted the lid.

"Okay, we’ll wait a while again."

I lifted Mirco, who had flipped because of the outburst, and patted him.

"It’s a rough kind of cooking, isn’t it."

While laughing, Mirco said that.

After that, we waited a little longer.

In the meantime, I left Mirco with the pot and went to check on Muriel, who was sleeping in the room.

The room only had Muriel sleeping, Cathy, and Tiria, and Sophia seemed to have left.

After watching for a while, I entrusted Muriel back to Cathy and went back to the kitchen.

"Mirco, how’s the pot?"

"Yeah, it’s fine."

Mirco had been staring at the pot, his eyes half-closed.

No, I didn’t mean he had been staring the whole time.

"Hahaha, if I do this, you won’t be able to make the boss wash the dishes."

That was his real feeling....

So, was it time now?

I moved the pot to the table, closed the lid.

"What are you doing? Let’s open it and see."

"It’s not done yet. It needs to steam properly."

I explained that to Mirco.

Well, while waiting....

"Eggs, are there any?"

"There are, but I can’t use them without asking the boss."

"I see."

Come to think of it, eggs were precious back then.

No choice, just salt....

"Use this."

The head chef suddenly handed me an egg.

"Eh? Is it okay?"

"Ah, well, you’re a guest of Freit-sama."

"I see. Thank you."

I thanked the head chef.

I cracked the egg into a small bowl on the table and... with chopsticks....

"Chopsticks... aren’t there? Um, straws... no. Hm, a knife will do. Can you lend me two knives?"

"Yes. But why two?"

Mirco quickly washed one of the knives from the sink and lent it to me.

"Thank you. You’ll understand when you watch."

I held two knives like chopsticks, stirring the egg.

It was a bit inconvenient, but it was fine.

"Hm, you do it that way."

"This way, the eggs melt finely."

I explained to the amazed Mirco, stirred the eggs until they were done, and opened the pot’s lid.

Unn, unn.

It had properly become porridge.

"Hm, it’s white like that."

"Yeah."

I gave Mirco an appropriate answer, sprinkled salt, and added the stirred eggs while mixing.

Then I tasted it with a spoon.

"Hm, it’s good."

"U~n, the taste is weak but it feels sweet."

Mirco was also tasting with a spoon without realizing.

Sweet, huh.

Was it the taste of rice?

"But it’s delicious."

Mirco smiled happily and said.

"Oh, this is surprisingly elegant."

For some reason, the head chef was also standing beside Mirco tasting it.

I thought the taste here might not suit him since it was unfamiliar to the people here, but if the head chef said so, it should be fine.

"...Ah, cucumbers, are there any?"

"Cucumbers, there aren’t any. They’re out of season. If it’s pickles, there are...."

"Ah, that’s fine."

I took the pickles from Mirco and cut them diagonally.

"...Aren’t you taught cooking by anyone?"

"Normally, but why?"

"Because you asked if there were cucumbers earlier. You know nothing about ingredients but you’re good with your hands."

"Well, yeah."

I answered Mirco’s question.

In the previous world, cucumbers were always available.

A small plate with pickles, and then....

Since I couldn’t carry the pot with one hand, I...

"Mirco, can you take this?"

"Yes. Um, which one do you need?"

Mirco asked me, and I gave him a small ceramic bowl, a wooden spoon, a spoon, a fork, and the small plate with pickles.

"Thank you. Then, come with me."

I thanked the head chef, carried the pot placed on the wooden tray, and left the kitchen with Mirco.

While avoiding maids who almost ran into us, we somehow reached the room where Muriel was sleeping.

"Ah~ Mirco. Sorry, but can you knock on the door?"

"Yeah."

Mirco knocked on the door with the hand that was free.

"Ha~i."

The door opened a little, and only Cathy’s face peeked out to check outside.

"Who are you?"

"Ah, no. This way. Me, me."

"Ah, it’s Master."

Cathy tilted her head at Mirco and called out.

When Cathy confirmed it was me, she opened the door wide.

"Uwaah, so-sorry!"

Suddenly, Mirco turned around.

What was wrong?

When I looked at Mirco, he was pressing his crotch with the empty hand.

Mirco slowly turned back and looked at Cathy’s chest, his face turning red before turning back again.

I see, that’s the meaning.

"Ah~ Cathy. Um, this boy is Mirco. He was helping in the kitchen."

"Ah, I am Cathy.... Um, nice to meet you."

Cathy came in front of Mirco to introduce herself, but Mirco turned even more backward.

"...Cathy, can you hold this? It’s hot, so be careful."

"Yes, Master."

I gave Cathy the pot on the tray, and Mirco took what I gave him.

And thanked me.

Mirco, whose number of words had suddenly decreased after seeing Cathy, bowed his head to me and ran off to the kitchen.

I hadn’t seen such an innocent guy in a long time.

But if he stayed in this mansion, he would probably see more extreme people like Lotty or Laura....

Well, whatever.

"Cathy, place that on the table."

"Yes, Master."

Cathy placed the pot on the table and opened the lid.

"This was made by Master, it looks so delicious."

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