The Villainous Princess Wants to Live in a Gingerbread House

“Why should I?”

“You came all the way here to meet her.”

“No.”

Lise let out a bitter sigh at Tarjei’s tone of voice.

“Her Highness Anastasia will never come to see Lord Nellin.”

“…”

“She doesn’t even know who Lord Nellin is. She hasn’t seen your face before.”

“I don’t want to meet her…!”

“Irina!”

Startled by her own reflexive outburst, Lise quickly suppressed her breath and took slow, deep breaths.

“…It was Lord Nellin who rejected the princess first.”

Tarjei’s stern face was distorted. It was unimaginable for someone as stern as him to be bound by loyalty to a noble and form a relationship with one. And when his daughter committed such an act?

Tariey angrily shouted at her to never show her face again, and Irina heard those words loud and clear. She had left the kingdom forever with that prince.

Lise sighed briefly and went on.

“And Her Highness Anastasia is also worried about Nellin’s true intentions.”

“What… What… My true intention? What do you mean?”

“Anyway, you’re a lowly maternal relative. Her maternal grandfather, whom she hadn’t even contacted for the past ten years, returned as soon as she entered the palace…”

“…A ten-year-old would think nothing of it.”

“She’s a brilliant girl.”

Tarjei frowned heavily at what Lise said firmly.

“Hmph, if what you’re saying is true, you shouldn’t worry about it. Do you have any doubts?”

Lise turned a blind eye to the grunt.

“…So Her Highness will never come first.”

“I didn’t come back just because I wanted to see my granddaughter!”

“How many days do you have left to live? Don’t be stubborn.”

“What, what did you say!”

Tarjei screamed. Lise pretended not to hear and winked at Ivan, who was still running.

“You’ve seen enough of that kid now.”

“…Fine. Kid, come in!”

At Tarjei’s cry, Ivan looked at Lise, and when Lise nodded, he stopped running and returned to where they were.

“What’s with you? Do you only listen to her?”

“He only listens to Her Highness. Since she told him to listen to me, he’s listening to me.”

“Darn it. Where did you find this stubborn kid?”

Lise was partly sympathetic to Tarjei’s grunt. Princess Anastasia looked at Ivan and described it as “a lot of shyness,” but Lise thought the expression only represented Princess Anastasia’s brilliance and consideration. Nevertheless, Ivan had improved considerably lately.

“Well, then… Make him my retainer. Kid, starting tomorrow, come to the training grounds. Be here by six in the morning.”

“…”

“From now on, you can follow Nellin’s words.”

“Darn it! Should I tell you who I’m going to listen to one by one?”

Tarjei grumbled, but he didn’t hesitate to say yes.

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

“Is this the kitchen His Majesty gave you this time? Oh, my…”

“I don’t have to owe Pavel more now. Thank you very much, Pavel!”

“Why are you saying something upsetting like that…”

Pavel, who came to see Asha’s kitchen, turned to her and said. Asha only smiled.

“What, aren’t you making something today?”

“I want to make something, but it’s our appointment time soon, right?”

“Until then, I’ll just do the preliminary preparations. Let me help you.”

“Then today…”

Asha mumbled while already placing a basket of lemons she had prepared on the island cooking table.

“What are you planning to make?”

“Pound cake. I feel bitter for not being able to use butter because of the Elves. I’m going to use a lot of butter.”

Pavel burst into laughter and began zesting the lemon peel.

By the time the ground lemon peel was marinated in sugar and covered with a lid, the main character of today’s appointment appeared.

“Your Highness, Chef Marka? They told me to go this way… Ah! Here you are.”

“Come! You’re here? This is my kitchen from now on. From now on, if you come here… Olga? Are you okay?”

Asha, who was about to show off the kitchen to Baroness Saratov with a bright smile, made eye contact with her and faltered.

Baroness Saratov had a thin face as if she had lost weight and had been cut in half. It was very dull under her eyes, too.

“Oh, really. Baroness Saratov, what happened?”

Baroness Saratov, otherwise known as Olga Byshovets, with an ambiguous expression whether it was crying or laughing, put a small bag he carried on the countertop.

“I brought what you said.”

Baroness Saratov brought a lump of chocolate that Asha asked for.

“If that carrot cake you showed me tasted so good, the Noktis Elves would have loved it too, right? By any chance, could you share the recipe with me…”

Baroness Saratov made a lot of noise, but it seemed that she was changing the subject.

“No, Olga before the recipe, are you really okay? Why is your face like this?”

Baroness Saratov opened her mouth. As if it were hard to say.

“…That’s actually…”

“What’s the truth?”

Asha grabbed her skirt again and shook it. Baroness Saratov sighed deeply and began to speak cautiously.

“The patisserie that we decided to operate is almost finished.”

“Oh, really? I’d like to see it once.”

As Asha clapped her hands and said, at that moment, Saratov looked like she was about to cry.

“Oh, Olga?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Really…”

Baroness Saratov tried to control her expression as if she thought she could not tell young Asha this yet, but Asha was a step faster.

“Opening a shop with my recipes is a big deal for me. I have the right to know what’s going on, right?”

“Well… um…”

“I told you I’d listen, right? Just go ahead and talk. It can be relieving to just speak your mind, you know?”

Baroness Saratov, who had been hesitant and conflicted for a long time, carefully opened her mouth.

“Well, nobody… wants to work…”

“What? Why?”

“That’s because, nobody… wants to do it…”

“They don’t? Do what?”

“Work in our pastry shop…”

“What? Why?”

Pavel sighed as if he had noticed something when Asha was embarrassed.

“Well, you see…”

“Why? Do you know, Pavel? What’s going on? Is the salary too low?”

“No matter how much we offer… there are limits to what we can give, and still, there’s no one willing to do it…”

“Why, why is no one willing?”

As Asha blinked her eyes, Pavel’s expression turned bitter.

“It’s not even their own shop, and they have to make cakes using someone else’s recipes, so I guess it hurt their pride. There might be clauses about maintaining secrecy as well…”

“No, that…”

So, the story was that they tried to solve the problem in various ways, which led to the current situation under their eyes.

“…”

“…”

“…”

The three were silent side by side. Then Asha jumped up.

“Let’s do something for now. Something delicious, pleasant, and full of butter.”

“Those three seem to be the same…”

“You’ve already learned the basics of baking, Olga.”

Baroness Saratov looked puzzled, and Asha rolled up her sleeves and dragged her away.

“First, roll up your sleeves, wash your hands. Have you ever measured flour?”

“Yes? My… Am I doing it?”

“Olga now runs a patisserie. You have to be able to do the basics. Right, Pavel?”

“It would be great if the person running the shop would, ah! If they would know how to do it.”

Pavel rubbed his waist and made a quick correction.

“Fill the scale with flour until the number is fifty-two. Just scoop it from the flour sack until it’s enough.”

“Fifty-two?”

“Yes.”

Baroness Saratov acted as if she had never seen a flour bag before, and Asha soon found out that it was not an illusion.

“…Oh.”

“Wow.”

“Uh-oh, whoops!”

After scattering the flour, Baroness Saratov went on to throw the flour into the bowl like tossing oranges into a basket.

The white powder billowed up and settled around her, leaving Baroness Saratov standing there, looking quite flustered.

“The powder… I need to dust it off.”

“Phew, sorry, kuh, kuh!”

Asha held back a laugh, dragged a footrest, and placed it in front of Baroness Saratov and stood up. Even so, she was a little low, so she had to step up a little.

“Y, Your highness. No, I’ll do it. I apologize, kuh, kuh!”

“Stay still. I’ll keep it a secret.”

“But, but…”

“Well, but before you go home, you’ll have to wash your face or take a carriage.”

“…”

“…”

Asha called the cake she was about to make “Picnic Cake.”

She put sugar that had been pickled in lemon peel into egg whites. Pour a little honey there, stir gently, and make a white foam like cream with a whisk. This part was taken over by Pavel.

“Really, really, I can’t take it anymore, really.”

“What do you mean?”

“This foam maker.”

“The foam is coming from me… No, it’s not like that. Cough. But still, this is a real masterpiece. It’s made from a unique tree found only in Sedvoyer Territory…”

“Yeah. So, it’s just a bunch of twigs. This isn’t a foam maker.”

Pavel didn’t quite understand Asha’s strong words, but he didn’t bother arguing further.

“Is this amount of foam enough?”

“Well, let’s see.”

Asha was handed the whisk that Pavel was holding, and slightly scooped the egg foam to draw a ribbon.

“One, two, three. There you go.”

It was complete when the egg foam maintained its shape for about 3 seconds and then dispersed.

On top of that, Baroness Saratov mixed the steamed flour and starch that she had completed after a hard struggle with the egg foam. It was done by mixing melted butter, lemon juice, and lemon peel with the dough several times, pouring them into a mold, and putting them in the oven.