Report
Chapter 208: The Gloom of Mr. Essen
“I really want stew! I want to eat stew!”
Mom rolled across the floor, still holding Phe in her arms.
I was studying for the Rank 4 exam at my low desk, so luckily, I wasn’t caught in the rolling attack.
“Ouch!”
Or so I thought, until my mother (with Phe wrapped up) tackled me head-on.
That’s the problem with floor-level desks.
“Phe loves stew! Phe wants seconds!”
Stew is a rare treat here. We usually only get thin soup.
The old man in the kitchen, Hank, is skilled, so we don’t have many complaints, but the main house doesn’t send us the best ingredients.
So our meals aren’t exactly fancy.
Still, we’re lucky to have enough to eat. There are plenty of poor people in this world who struggle to get by.
“Ohhh! I want to make food for you two! I want to make you stew!”
“Phe loves cream stew! But Phe likes beef stew too!”
They were both happily rolling around on the floor, saying whatever they wanted.
If this were Earth, I would’ve quietly slipped away to the library for some peace and quiet.
I thought of escaping to Abel’s room, but unfortunately, my teacher isn’t home. It wouldn’t feel right using her room without permission, even if she probably wouldn’t mind.
(Maybe I should go study in the workshop instead?)
No, that’s pointless.
They’d just follow me there.
Changing locations wouldn’t change the situation. The workshop is even riskier with all the tools lying around.
“Hey, Al! Don’t you think I could cook once a week, just a little bit?”
I can’t decide that for you, Mom.
But it’s probably a no-go. Hank is really strict about his kitchen.
Even Mia once told me, close to tears, how she got scolded just for moving a utensil.
“Niita, Niita! Phe wants stew!”
It seems like in Phe’s mind, “loving stew” has shifted to “wanting stew right now.”
Mom wants to make stew, and Phe wants to eat it.
This isn’t going to resolve itself. And with them rolling around nearby, I can’t focus on studying.
“Guess I’ll go talk to Hank.”
I had no choice but to pause my studies and stand up.
“Don’t be ridiculous. No way, absolutely not!”
Hank’s answer was blunt and to the point.
I wasn’t surprised, so it didn’t bother me.
“Both are a no?”
“Of course!”
Both Mom’s request to cook and Phe’s request for stew were denied.
“What?!”
I heard stereo complaints from behind me. They’re definitely mother and daughter.
“Phe loves stew, but Phe can’t eat it…?”
“Aww, I just wanted to cook again…”
Hearing their sad voices made me want to help, but this wasn’t a simple request. It was more like a selfish whim, so I didn’t feel too eager to fulfill it.
“I’m busy! If you’re done talking, get out!”
Hank does more than just cook.
He also handles kitchen cleaning, equipment maintenance, and negotiating for ingredients from the main house.
As you know, our Cranput family isn’t on good terms with Thorn Lady.
That’s why we get lower-quality ingredients.
However, many of the servants here come from good families.
Meals for the detached house’s staff are also prepared in this kitchen.
The nobles don’t want the servants to suffer, so despite the low-quality ingredients, there’s a minimum standard to maintain.
Hank is the one handling these negotiations, so we can’t burden him unnecessarily.
Besides, today’s Wednesday, and that means it’s Hus’s turn in the kitchen—he’s known for bringing trouble, like when he once brought in poisonous mushrooms.
“Looks like it’s a no. Let’s give up.”
“Aww, that’s disappointing…”
“Nyuuu…”
They understood the situation to some extent and although they were upset, they didn’t throw a tantrum. They can be reasonable sometimes.
“Hm? What’s that?”
I glanced back at the kitchen one last time and noticed a peculiar tool.
Hank seemed to notice too.
“What is it, kid? You curious about that?”
He picked it up.
“You probably don’t even know what this is used for.”
Actually, coming from a world with advanced cooking tools, I might know more about it than you do, Hank.
Not to brag, but I even know about tools that don’t exist here yet!
And that tool is…
“I got this recently. It’s a pretty handy gadget.”
Well, thank you for your purchase.
That’s my invention, a peeler, courtesy of Charles Essen.
“Cooking is my job, but I sometimes ask the maids to help peel vegetables. With this, they can do it quickly and without getting hurt.”
Hank smirked proudly, showing off the peeler.
“When I showed it to the main house’s chef, he said he might start using it too. Finding good tools quickly is part of being a good chef.”
Well, if it sells well, I won’t complain.
In the end, our requests were denied.
But the real problem came afterward.
As we left the kitchen and walked down the hallway, I heard a voice behind me.
“Well, well, I saw what happened…”
I turned around to see Hus Bock, the lazy man who works on Wednesdays.
It seems he was hanging around the western detached house today.
Hus had an unpleasant grin on his face. It’s not a smile you’d want to look at for long.
“You want to do your own cooking, huh?”
Hus’s grin turned toward Mom, and even her usually gentle smile faltered a bit.
“So, what’s it gonna be? Do you want to or not?”
“Well… I do want to cook, but…”
“Huh. Alright then, I’ll help you out.”
“Huh?”
“I’m saying I’ll put in a good word for you, help you get what you want.”
Hus chuckled to himself.
This guy isn’t on our side. He clearly looks down on our family. There’s no way he’s helping out of kindness.
“What’s your angle?”
“Oh, come on now. Don’t be like that. I’m just offering a little help. Not trusting someone’s goodwill makes you worse than an animal, kid.”
The way he’s talking just makes him sound even less trustworthy.
“You’re living like royalty, eating for free without lifting a finger. It must be a dream life for someone like me, a hardworking commoner. Seeing you trying to step out of that cushy bubble… It’s touching. Of course I’d want to help.”
“Mind your own business.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, brat! I was asking the lady here. Don’t get all high and mighty just because you get looked after!”
What is this guy’s deal? He’s acting like a complete thug.
Why does the Marquis even employ someone like him?
Hus shouted, and Phe stepped forward to shield me.
“If you bully Niita, Phe won’t forgive you!”
“Oh, wow. What a splendid older brother, getting protected by his little sister. Tell me, how does it feel?”
He smirked, clearly thinking he’d made a clever remark.
“Oh yeah? How does it feel to try and intimidate a kid half your age? Tell me.”
“You little punk!”
“What’s going on here?!”
Right as Hus snapped, Hank burst out of the kitchen.
Hus clicked his tongue and muttered,
“Nothing.”
“Fine then. I’ll make sure the lady’s wish comes true. Just wait and see.”
With a sneer, Hus walked away.
It was an unpleasant encounter.
The day feels ruined now.
I just hope this doesn’t turn into more trouble later.
