The kitchen of Marquis Julius’ mansion.

The chef, who was busy cutting, was perplexed by the sudden question.

Is there a dish that can confirm if someone has a mushroom allergy?

“Well, that would be a mushroom dish, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, is that so?”

The chef became bewildered.

What’s the deal with holding up the chef during the busy dinner time?

The chef’s voice, holding a knife, sharpened.

“Is there a need to cook? Just feed them mushrooms and see. Or better yet, why not just ask if they have an allergy? Why, does someone have a mushroom allergy?”

The cook’s shoulders hunched.

“I don’t know. They didn’t tell me. They just asked to prepare such a dish.”

“Who?”

“Lady Hurst.”

Oh dear. Not someone who can be ignored, is she?

The chef’s intense eyes clouded with irritation.

The housekeeper and the chef were always the highest-ranking employees in the mansion, vying for the master’s favor and power.

While the chef was no pushover, he couldn’t ignore Olga Hurst, who manipulated the mansion behind the scenes with the favor of the Marchioness.

Moreover, when there was friction with the housekeeper before, the Marchioness had sided with the housekeeper, not him, ruling that the housekeeper’s orders should always be followed as the highest priority, which remained a great wound to the chef’s pride.

The chef became even more sensitive.

“What, so are we supposed to make just one mushroom dish? Or make all the dishes like that?”

“I don’t know either. What should we do? Our dinner serving time is almost here, time is… What should we start with?”

The chef’s irritation surged.

The kitchen was a busy place.

But this is ridiculous.

“If someone has a mushroom allergy, they won’t eat mushroom dishes anyway, right? So what’s the point of serving it as a test? Are we supposed to sneak mushrooms in? What if something goes wrong? If anything happens, it’ll all be my responsibility.”

Is this some kind of trap?

“That’s true… What should we do?”

They should give detailed instructions when ordering.

Anyway, there was no time.

Either way, Olga Hurst’s instructions had to be followed as ‘top priority’.

The chef swallowed a curse and quickly instructed.

“For now, put mushrooms on all dishes. But place them visibly on the side. So people with allergies can avoid them on their own. Remove all dishes with ground mushrooms and mushroom broth.”

“Yes, Chef!”

People with allergies would surely leave the mushrooms aside, right?

That should be test enough.

[This is the timeline separator]

“Are mushrooms a specialty of Julius?”

“It’s surprisingly fitting. Haha. I should tell our chef about this when I get home.”

The merchants laughed heartily, glossing over the imbalance in the dishes.

Facing pudding, chocolate cake, and crème brûlée topped with mushrooms, the Marquis and Marchioness smiled forcedly through their embarrassment.

Serving the best cuisine to visiting guests was a matter of pride for nobles.

It was a means of showing off the mansion’s wealth, and also a process of evaluating the hostess’s sense.

In that regard, their chef had always been satisfactory.

But chocolate cake topped with mushrooms and crème brûlée garnished with mushrooms!

To showcase the family’s capabilities, a talented chef and cooks were essential, and naturally, Julius, the continent’s largest conglomerate, had employed the continent’s best chef.

For years, the Marchioness hadn’t needed to check the cooking like other ordinary hostesses after hiring him.

She only had to boast about her wealth in front of admiring visitors by saying she had merely hired the best chef, and pretend to be modest while giving credit to the capable chef.

But at such an important time when the empire’s top merchants were flocking to visit the mansion!

Chocolate cake topped with mushrooms!

They might be pretending to be happy and pleased now, but they would surely mock them elsewhere, saying, “Can you believe it, they serve chocolate cake with mushrooms at the Julius mansion!”

The Marchioness couldn’t believe such a mistake had occurred.

Mushrooms surprisingly went well with most dishes.

So she hadn’t noticed until the desserts were served.

But as the desserts started coming out, she could tell.

They had put mushrooms on every single dish!

Was it because of the order to check for mushroom allergies?

But even so, there should be limits!

Wait.

Don’t tell me these dishes were served to Arthur too?

The Marchioness felt her head spinning.

How on earth are they handling things?!

[This is the timeline separator]

“How on earth are you handling things!”

As soon as the office door closed, the Marquis threw his hat down and bellowed.

The Marchioness shouted back.

“You were the one who gave that order!”

The Marquis, not backing down, yelled.

“It’s your job to do the final check on the dishes served to guests! Do I have to interfere in even these matters?! You can’t do a single thing right!”

The Marchioness trembled with anger.

It was true that it was the hostess’s role, as the Marquis pointed out.

But both the Marquis and Marchioness had been busy meeting with distinguished guests and merchants, leaving no time to separately check the dishes.

Far from checking the dishes, the Marchioness was barely keeping up with changing into appropriate dresses and getting ready between appointments, depending on the type and timing of engagements.

The Marquis should know this well, having been with her the whole time!

The Marchioness, her face red, stomped her foot.

“You’re one to talk?! Who’s responsible for all of this happening in the first place!”

“…”

Christina, who had been quietly watching the Marquis and Marchioness fight, calmly tapped her cigarette ash into an ashtray and said.

“Shall I check from now on?”

The Marquis and Marchioness, who had been yelling at each other, looked at their daughter in disbelief.

Christina exhaled the last of the smoke in her lungs with a ‘hoo’ and spoke calmly.

“Mother and Father have been busy meeting with merchants lately. With appointments piling up nonstop, you haven’t been able to focus on other matters.”

“…”

Christina looked at the Marquis and Marchioness and continued.

“I have nothing else to do besides getting dressed up every day and waiting for his forgiveness, so I think it’s appropriate for me to do it. I’ll soon have to take care of the household with Arthur anyway, so if Mother entrusts it to me, it would be good practice too.”

Christina…!

The surprised Marchioness looked at her mature daughter with eyes of admiration, covering her mouth.

Christina continued.

“After all, I will eventually be in charge of this mansion’s household affairs.”

The Marchioness was overjoyed.

“That’s right! Christina. I can’t believe I didn’t think of you! These are all tasks I should pass on to you. My goodness, I’ve been so overwhelmed!”

The Marchioness was delighted, newly realizing that she could keep her daughter close instead of sending her away like other families.

“Now I can rely on you!”

If she had married out, she would have taken charge of her husband’s household, but since they had brought in a son-in-law…

Christina would eventually become the mistress of this place.

It was certainly true, but…

The Marquis eyed his daughter suspiciously with a look of disbelief.

Christina met her father’s gaze and smiled.

[This is the timeline separator]

“I was merely busy. I didn’t think such an order was as important as madam’s perfect grooming.”

Lady Hurst said without batting an eye.

Christina smirked and nodded towards the jeweled accessories on the table.

“Take it.”

[This is the timeline separator]

“…”

“…”

Reina and Arthur sat in silence before the dinner table.

Mushrooms topped every dish laid out on the dinner table in front of them.

Reina’s pupils trembled.

What is this?

Mushrooms were blatantly placed on every dish.

Not just on dishes where mushrooms naturally fit, like salads, meat dishes, or hot pots.

Even on yogurt with fruit, pure white milk pudding, and in the center of the golden-brown crème brûlée.

On all dishes where mushrooms normally wouldn’t belong.

Cute little mushrooms with obvious white cross marks on their backs were placed on everything.

Seeing mushrooms decorating even the chocolate cake made her think something was definitely wrong.

“…”

Reina couldn’t believe this result.

It must be because of the note I wrote and sent.

Could they have taken such petty revenge over me saying Arthur dislikes mushrooms…?

But isn’t this… too childish?

Was this their intention…?

I wrote that note quite seriously, thinking I was secretly informing them about Arthur…

What’s the point of sending secret notes like this?

This way, Arthur will know I’m conveying something about him to others.

He’ll even figure out that it’s about his picky eating.

“…”

Arthur was staring at the mushroom-filled table with a puzzled look, resting his chin on his hand.

“…”

Feeling like she had unintentionally participated in a mean friend’s prank to tease him, Reina watched him nervously with a red face.

Arthur muttered.

“I feel like a child being severely scolded by my parents.”

“…”

Arthur spoke calmly.

“…I know being a picky eater is bad. I’ll follow your advice.”

And Arthur picked up his utensils.

He poked at a mushroom on the plate.

Reina hurriedly stopped him.

“Let me!”

Reina quickly picked up her fork and started picking the mushrooms off the dishes, popping them into her mouth.

Then she stood up with her now mushroom-free plate and quickly moved next to Arthur.

She swapped her mushroom-free plate with his.

Clatter.

“…”

Hurriedly swallowing the mushrooms in her mouth, Reina said.

“Please eat from this one.”

“…”

Arthur looked at her.

Reina’s face turned red.

She felt very sorry towards Arthur.

He dislikes them because of bad memories of eating poisonous mushrooms on the battlefield.

She didn’t want him to have an uncomfortable meal recalling those memories.

How petty. Over food…

She hadn’t expected the Marchioness to do this with her report.

Someone who suffered for five years due to poor rations…

“My lady.”

Arthur smiled and took her hand.

“Just leave it. I’m not a child. It’s not like I can’t eat them at all. Seeing you eat them deliciously, they look fine.”

“No.”

Reina pulled the plate back, embarrassed.

“I once got terribly sick after eating bad fish, so I don’t eat fish dishes well either.”

Reina picked up another plate with mushrooms and continued.

“No matter how fresh it is and how delicious everyone says it is, the memory of being sick makes me hesitate, and I can’t really taste it. You can’t have a pleasant meal if you force yourself to eat something you don’t like. Don’t eat it if you don’t want to. There are plenty of other delicious things.”

She wanted to defend that his avoidance of mushrooms wasn’t childish picky eating.

However, Arthur’s expression changed slightly at those words.

His face frowned as if doubting his own ears.

“…You ate bad fish? How did that happen.”

Reina closed her mouth.

It was a slip of the tongue.

Of course, Miss Christina had never eaten bad fish.

Arthur became serious.

“Did Julius feed you bad fish?”

“Ah, Arthur.”

Arthur looked at Reina with a hardened face and said.

“I went to the battlefield thinking my wife would be safe and comfortable. But tell me, how exactly did you live while I was away?”

Reina was at a loss for words.