Volume 1 Episode 9 – Even the third son of a noble family can cook


I Just Wanted to Call Off the Arranged Marriage With the Princessโ€”Someone I Could Never Possibly Be a Match Forโ€”But for Some Reason, She Took a Liking to Me and Is Now Closing in on Me


โ€œDeliciousโ€ฆโ€

Iris murmurs as she takes a bite of meat coated in cheese with her fork. I say, โ€œThanks,โ€ and start eating my own portion. Itโ€™s a meat dish baked with cheese on top. It doesnโ€™t have a specific name, but the rich cheese gives it a great flavor.

Actually, there were all sorts of spices laid out, so just looking at them was fun. As youโ€™d expect from a princessโ€™s residence, thereโ€™s no shortage of luxury items. I feel a bit guilty about taking advantage of thatโ€”not really, though; Iโ€™m just going with the โ€œuse it while you canโ€ mentality. I might not get to eat this again.

The vegetable soup is delicious, too. Salt and pepper really are the best.

Iris sets down her spoon and half-closes her eyes. She bites her lower lip lightly and stares at me with a look of dissatisfaction.

โ€œWhat? Was there a vegetable you donโ€™t like in there?โ€

โ€œI hate beans.โ€

โ€œYou can pick them out.โ€

Since Iโ€™m not her mom, I have no intention of lecturing her about not being picky. Just as I was about to continue eating, assuming she just had a childish palate, she stopped me again, saying, โ€œThatโ€™s not it.โ€

Whatโ€™s with you?

โ€œDonโ€™t get a big head just because you can cook.โ€

โ€œIโ€™m not.โ€

Why am I getting criticized for cooking? Me.

โ€œI could do it too if I wanted to. I just wasnโ€™t allowed toโ€”itโ€™s that easy.โ€

โ€œOh, wow, thatโ€™s impressive.โ€

โ€œListen to me properly.โ€

โ€œThis cheese is so good.โ€

โ€œListen!โ€

She kicked me hard in the shin.

It didnโ€™t hurt, but Iโ€™m not sure I like that habit of hers.

โ€œIโ€™m making food tomorrow.โ€

โ€œIf weโ€™re done here, Iโ€™d like to go back to my parentsโ€™ house.โ€

โ€œNo way, Iโ€™m definitely doing it.โ€

It seems Irisโ€™s competitive spirit has been ignited. Itโ€™s not like itโ€™s unusual for a princessโ€”or rather, a noble ladyโ€”not to know how to cook, but for her, the fact that I can do it and she canโ€™t seems to be a huge blow to her pride.

Is she surprisingly competitive?

Her dark eyes are burning. Is she actually the passionate type? It doesnโ€™t really fit her appearance.

โ€œBut why can you cook?โ€

โ€œโ€ฆBecause I can?โ€

โ€œDo you really think thatโ€™s what Iโ€™m asking?โ€

I donโ€™t think so, but if thatโ€™s all you say, I wonโ€™t know what you actually want to know.

Iris gently set down her spoon. That single gesture was graceful and truly befitting a princess.

โ€œThe reason I decided to cook. I mean, thereโ€™s no need for me to, right? We have chefs at home, and the maids handle the housework. Thereโ€™s no way we nobles would do that ourselves.โ€

โ€œWhen a princess says it, the words carry so much more weightโ€ฆโ€

โ€œI actually do plan to do it myself.โ€

She lifts her nose in a slight snort.

Thatโ€™s more of a hope than anythingโ€”itโ€™s practically an admission that she hasnโ€™t put it into practice yetโ€”but if I point that out, sheโ€™ll probably kick me in the shin again, so I, being the kind soul that I am, keep my mouth shut. I donโ€™t have a hobby of enjoying getting kicked. Even if itโ€™s by a beautiful girl.

โ€œThe reason I wanted to do itโ€ฆโ€

Sipping my fruit wine, I dig through my memories.

The triggerโ€ฆ what was it? I donโ€™t remember clearly. But thereโ€™s a reason Iโ€™m still doing it now. I could state it clearly, but when I see those expectant eyes, I donโ€™t feel like telling her.

Above all, I hate looking like a wimp.

โ€œMy dream for the future is to be a chef.โ€

โ€œOh, really? So?โ€

โ€œNo, โ€˜soโ€™. I said I want to be a chef.โ€

โ€œIโ€™ll recommend you to His Majesty to be a chef at the royal castle.โ€

โ€œIโ€™m sorry.โ€

Please, give me a break.

Being a chef at the castle isnโ€™t just something Iโ€™d spit out. Plus, itโ€™s scary to think that His Majesty would probably just say โ€œOkayโ€ without batting an eye. Canโ€™t I even brush it off with a clumsy joke?

Oh well, I guess Iโ€™ll just tell her.

Itโ€™s not like Iโ€™m hiding anything, but Iโ€™m feeling pretty pathetic about this, I thought to myself, when Iris let out a sulky-sounding โ€œFine, whatever.โ€ She propped her chin on her hand, lifting her cheek.

โ€œIf you donโ€™t want to talk about it, whatever?โ€

โ€œThat doesnโ€™t look like a โ€˜whateverโ€™ face to me.โ€

โ€œWhatever.โ€

Sheโ€™s rolling her tongue way too much.

Thatโ€™s nothing more than a threat disguised as politeness. โ€œYouโ€™re such a kid,โ€ I muttered under my breath.

โ€œWell, Iโ€™m the third son.โ€

โ€œโ€ฆโ€ฆHmm, I see.โ€

I wondered what kind of face Iris was making as she snorted. I kept my head down, pretending to focus on the cooking so I wouldnโ€™t have to look, when Iris spoke up.

โ€œIโ€™m the third daughter.โ€

โ€œIt must be tough for both of us having so many siblings.โ€

โ€œYeah.โ€

I offered a small, brief nod of agreement.

We werenโ€™t saying much, but I felt like the atmosphere at the table had improved a bit compared to before.

ใ€€ใ€€โ—†ใ€€โ—†ใ€€โ—†

โ€”W-w-wake up?

A sensation tickling my ear sent a shiver running from my toes to the top of my head. I jumped out of bed with a start, and Iris, looking startled, blinked at me.

She had her hand cupped over her mouthโ€ฆ Hey, cut it out.

โ€œWhat are you doing?โ€

โ€œPlaying newlyweds.โ€

Is she trying to kill me first thing in the morning?

Sheโ€™s wearing her usual baggy clothes, not a shred of princess-like dignity in sight. Sheโ€™s picked up some bad habits. That smirk on her faceโ€”I really wish sheโ€™d stop.

โ€œWaking you up is fun, too.โ€

โ€œI was about to fall into an eternal slumber, wasnโ€™t I?โ€

โ€œHuh.โ€

She doesnโ€™t seem interested. In my life, that is.

โ€œI broke out in a cold sweat first thing in the morningโ€ฆ Wait, whatโ€™s this smell?โ€

A scent that tickles my noseโ€”too burnt to be called savory. I sniffed the air, and there was another smell as well; if I had to describe it, it was probably the smell of cooking.

But why?

As I wondered that, I recalled the conversation at the dinner table last night.

[Iโ€™ll make food tomorrow.]

[If youโ€™re done with your business, Iโ€™d like to go back to my parentsโ€™ house.]

[No way, Iโ€™m definitely doing it.]

โ€œWait, no way?โ€ I thought, staring intently at Iris, and she nodded with such smug satisfaction as if to say, โ€œExactly as I thought.โ€

โ€œBreakfast is ready.โ€

โ€œOh, r-right.โ€

I see.

โ€œThe Last Supper, is it?โ€

โ€œExplain exactly what you mean, please?โ€

โ€œGive me some stomach medicine.โ€

She gave my shoulders a firm shove, and I sank back into the bed.

I wanted to just stay in bed like this. I truly did, but the princessโ€”who had cooked for the first timeโ€”pulled my arm, saying, โ€œItโ€™ll get cold,โ€ and wouldnโ€™t wait for me.


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