Ishar’s steps slowed as he returned to his quarters.

The eyes that were once full of vitality, like the sprouts of spring, gradually sank into a deep abyss.

‘How did she make this? The information I provided should have been insufficient.’

‘It was enough.’

He had said that when the Empress admired the spicy food he had made for her once upon a time.

It was a lie.

Even until the promised day arrived, Ishar couldn’t grasp the taste at all.

‘Does such a dish really exist?’

He had searched through cuisines from one end of the continent to the other, but there was no such dish. He even checked ancient scrolls, wondering if it was a dish from a long-lost ancient kingdom, but it was in vain.

Where could the Empress have tasted such a dish?

Ishar couldn’t fathom it at all.

Making a few ingredients might have been easy, but how on earth do you make that red and spicy seasoning?

He stayed up all night trying various things, but he couldn’t produce anything remotely similar in taste or appearance. This was the first time he had faced such a situation.

‘Nothing can be done.’

He had climbed to the rank of a duke, the closest aide to the Emperor, and even the prime minister of the empire. Failing to make one dish wouldn’t harm his reputation.

Since the Empress didn’t seem to have high expectations, she would probably accept another dish without much complaint. However,

‘Damn it.’

He couldn’t accept it himself. His first failure in his life was related to the Empress.

He wanted to avoid that.

‘Why are you worrying so much? Isn’t it unlike you?’

When he was in distress, a friend asked him.

Since it was something he would eventually find out, Ishar confessed.

‘Why bother with such a thing.’

He chuckled and said.

‘Go check the tribute storage. You’ll find the answer there.’

Ah… Why didn’t he think of that?

There was a separate warehouse for storing rare ingredients among the tributes coming from abroad.

As time was running out, Ishar hurried his steps. Suddenly, he turned around and asked the friend who had reminded him.

How did you know that?

‘Just had a feeling it might be the case.’

With a vague smile and an ambiguous answer, Ishar raised his eyebrows in surprise.

‘Hurry and go. If you’re late, it might tarnish your reputation.’

Ishar put aside his suspicions and turned away.

Sure enough, the ingredients were all there.

He rolled them into a lump according to the recipe the Empress had provided… and finally, the taste came out.

It was a bit spicy for his taste, but he was confident that this was the taste the Empress desired.

And sure enough.

When she took a bite, she exclaimed. She said it was delicious, reminiscent of old times.

‘Old times… I see. Did the Verium Marquisate eat such food in the old days?’

Although noble families wouldn’t usually eat such stimulating food, it could happen. At least it wasn’t crucial for Ishar.
What was important to him was the fact that Reese cried.

To him, who had always thought of crying people as pathetic, the fact that it might not be the case brought about an unusually unfamiliar emotion.

His feelings became peculiar as he looked into Reese’s moist eyes. It seemed beautiful even to him, thinking that it was because of him.

“Where did you get the ingredients?”

“In the warehouse where the tributes from foreign envoys are stored. I found them there, neglected because I didn’t know how to use them. Fortunately, I found them now.”

He wanted that admiration to continue to be directed at him. He didn’t want to deflect credit to someone else. So, he didn’t mention his friend’s name.

Besides, he didn’t expect it from him. Rather, he hoped that he would continue to cook dishes that suited her taste, gaining her trust as the Empress.

Rationalizing it this way, Ishar felt relieved.

Sometimes, he wondered how his friend knew about this unfamiliar dish. However, he could easily dismiss such thoughts because, in the first place, his friend knew a lot.

From academia to arts and martial arts, he was well-versed in all knowledge, including miscellaneous facts.

So, it could be just one of the many things he knew.

“But there are things he doesn’t know.”

Ishar, who had returned to his office, murmured quietly while looking out the window.

Although the pine shrubs emitted occasional green lights, it was generally a desolate winter garden.

Looking down at it, Ishar quietly glanced over the promenade he had pushed the wheelchair along a while ago. There was no one on the path. Then, Ishar quickly lost interest and returned to his desk.

He immediately pulled out a document.

It was an informal declaration given by his friend.

“In the year 725 of the Empire, on the 15th day of Hespel, I approve the elevation of the Baldermion Marquisate to a kingdom and its permanent independence from the Rosenzia Kingdom.”

Ishar understood the contents of the document in a matter of seconds and… tore it into pieces in front of him.

“I didn’t know I would do this.”

The torn letter covered more than half of his face. However,

His disrespectful gaze couldn’t be concealed.