The cook, who had been looking at Beril with a pitiable expression, cautiously gestured with his hand.

“Then please have this. It’s just leftovers anyway. I can’t eat it all by myself. It’s been a problem disposing of it, so this is good.”

At that time, she had eaten without thinking, but in retrospect, that food was steaming as if freshly made, despite being leftovers. She had received food like this several times.

“That cook…”

Beril mumbled as she reminisced.

After that dawn encounter, the cook seemed to occasionally wait for her and prepare food. Why did he do that? He couldn’t have known when I would arrive.

That cook was soon driven away from Orobas, either because of that morning’s event or for some other reason, on the pretext of heresy, without any evidence.

I couldn’t find out what happened to him afterward. I never even had the chance to thank him.

“…It was delicious.”

Beril sighed briefly. Suddenly, she realized she was the focus of attention.

Beleled was looking seriously at the demon manipulating fire, and the demon spoke while flicking fire from his fingertips.

“Are you talking about that cook?”

“Huh?”

Beril didn’t immediately understand his serious tone and asked again.

Then she remembered the words she had just muttered and raised her hand.

“No, not the person! The food he made!”

“Ah.”

The fire at the demon’s fingertips abruptly went out. Beleled also finally resumed picking up his tableware.

…Did Beleled also misunderstand?

Beril couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Several hours later, in Beleled’s office.

He was lost in thought.

To Beleled, what Beril ate was not a particularly important issue.

Of course, he was a bit surprised, but it was a misunderstanding, so it was okay. Any unnecessary misunderstandings were cleanly erased from his mind.

What bothered him was something else.

The cook…

Why did her words seem to weigh on his mind?

Because she’s upset that the cook is gone? Because she might not like this place?

Of course, it was a very different place from where she had lived.

Am I afraid she will leave this place?

Because I feel like I’ll die if she’s gone? Because I feel like the future where I turn into a monster will return? Is it due to that urgency?

…No.

Beleled couldn’t figure it out.

For hundreds of years, he had never felt this strange emotion. It surged into his mind like a tide, leaving only ruins as it retreated.

“Ronobe.”

As a result, Beleled, who had not been able to do any work, finally called for Ronobe.

“Did you call?”
Soon, a red mist surged before him, transforming into the figure of Ronobe as it descended.

Ronobe’s expression then quickly turned to surprise.

“What happened? You look pale…”

Beleled raised his hand to negate Ronobe’s words.

“Nothing happened.”

He almost added, perhaps, but stopped himself. He then slightly furrowed his brows.

Wasn’t there sincerity behind what he intended to add?

He was certainly going through something. He just didn’t know what it was.

“……Give me your orders.”

Ronobe awaited his command with a serious face.

Suddenly, Beleled asked out of nowhere.

“Does Didas know how to cook human food?”

Didas was a demon staying within the gates of Hell, a demon known for his interest in human culture.

Ronobe hesitated at the question. It was because he had also been informed about something that had happened during a meal.

“Didas is more interested in art than in food… Besides, he is in Hell.”

Beleled, being an Archduke of Demons with the ability to bring over abilities from demons residing in the human world, would certainly know that.

However, Beleled who asked the question looked rather serious. Almost as if…

“……You don’t intend to forcibly open Hell’s gate to bring him here, do you?”

Ronobe’s expression stiffened when Beleled gave no reply.

He couldn’t bring himself to ask if Beleled was in his right mind. Right now, when the lingering magical energy in the human realm was scarce, astronomical cost would be required to bring out just one demon from Hell.

Like, for instance, the magical energy that constituted the very essence of Archduke Beleled.

“……No, it would be better to find one in the human realm.”

Beleled shook his head as if such a thing was impossible. However, Ronobe distinctly saw a moment of agony flash across his face.

It would be more convenient to employ a demon rather than bring in a human.

Who among human chefs would want to come to this land, this chaotic territory that is now rumored to even have a Saint and a demon?

Especially to a land that knows no difference between day and night?

Moreover, if a human comes, it would be difficult to hide the true nature of the demons. They could deal with them if they tried to escape, but… the presence of an outsider is inconvenient in many ways.

“Risk is acceptable. Hurry and find a chef.”

Reiterating a command given during the daytime signified urgency.

“Understood.”

Ronobe bowed his head, all the while examining Beleled.

His master was never a playful person, but now he looked even more serious.
If the stakes had been just a bit higher, it felt as if he might have already slightly opened the gates to the underground hell.

Belede was sincere.

Seeing this, Ronobe became confused.

‘…If you delay work any further, it will disrupt the on-site operations.’

It seemed that Belede was clearly having trouble focusing.

After the meal, Ronobe took him to his office with a troubled expression. Beril deliberately didn’t follow him.

‘I also have things to do inside the mansion.’

It was true.

The temple visit.

Belede, who couldn’t concentrate because of her, was a good excuse.

…A good excuse to justify herself, who couldn’t take her eyes off him to a strange degree.

‘…It’s tradition.’

‘Might you not close your eyes for a moment when necessary?’

Belede mentioned tradition, but Beril deliberately said so.

Whether it was Ronobe’s reaction or Decarabia’s uneasy reaction, it seemed that this ‘tradition’ was unfamiliar to them as well.

If such a tradition existed, wouldn’t his desk have been devoid of work for the first week of their marriage, or at least lessened?

…So, did he make up that tradition himself?

Beril, who suddenly reached a conclusion, hesitated.

Why?

In a normal case, if you’re interested in someone, yes. Beril thought as she fiddled with the hem of her clothes.

Don’t expect too much.

Although she keeps getting her hopes up, expecting too much would only hurt her, something she had painfully experienced in her last two lives.

“Let’s change the atmosphere of the entire mansion.”

The first task that Beril identified was this.

When leaving the temple with gratitude, the first doubt she’d face was the appearance of the mansion.

If only steaks are served for meals, those who come for a meal or two might not find it strange.

However, the need to change the ancient tapestry hanging casually in the dining room and the overall gloomy atmosphere of the mansion was apparent.

Especially since a noble family’s garden, which they decorate thinking it’s equivalent to the family’s face, was completely neglected by Vain.

First, they needed to remove the dust-collecting items from the dining room and sort out the monster-repelling weapons or assassination devices that the demons had scattered or stored around the mansion.

‘Is there something strange there? Ah, it seems like something Naberus put up 70 years ago.’

Those traps that most demons couldn’t even remember were mostly set up by Naberus.
‘Should I clean up when Naberus comes?’

Decarabia answered her question succinctly.

‘Naberus won’t know either. He’s not the type to remember such things.’

‘…….’

Unable to refute, she ultimately decided to dismantle the traps laid out and forgotten around the mansion.

The issue was whether Beleth would permit it.

In the brief moment she visited his office to inquire, he greeted her at a pace that made her question if he was truly in the middle of work.