Chapter 15: From Slave to Chef: A Lord’s First Meal

“You let go!!!”

Lia suddenly rushed between the two of us, pushing Vilya away with surprising force. She then threw herself into my arms, hugging me tightly, and looked up at me with her small face puffed with anger. She pounded my stomach with her tiny fists.

I smiled wryly, stroking her head, my gaze shifting to Vilya with a hint of concern. Vilya, standing opposite me, shook her head once, then returned her longsword to its scabbard. When she looked up again, her face had reverted to its usual emotionless, blank state. She observed us, specifically Lia, then glanced at herself.

‘I couldn’t quite fathom what she was thinking.’

However, Vilya soon walked back to my side. Ignoring the trembling townsfolk around us, she proceeded down the path. Trailing behind her, I inquired, “Do you know where we should be going?”

“No.”

Vilya turned her head, nodding with utmost seriousness.

‘Then where exactly are you heading right now…?’

I scratched my head, looking at her helplessly. “I do know where we need to go,” I began. “But aren’t you going to say anything to these townsfolk first? After all, you’re the mayor of this town now, aren’t you? No, wait, you’re the lord of this entire region. With what just happened, don’t you plan to say something to calm the people?”

“No.”

Vilya’s reply was remarkably swift and direct. I understood, of course; Vilya was hardly one to excel at public speaking. Having her try to soothe the townsfolk with a speech would be less effective than if I did it myself.

Yet, I wasn’t Vilya’s aide; I was merely her s*ave.

I had grasped this earlier: my relationship with Vilya was no longer one of cooperation. Before, I possessed a degree of autonomy, and within certain limits, my superiors found it difficult to reject my decisions.

Now, however, with Vilya, everything was different. As her s*ave, any decision I made could be easily overridden by her, and I would have no right to object.

If Vilya had killed that group of people just now, what could I have said? I would have been powerless, able only to watch as she eradicated them, utterly destroying the fruits of my labor.

We hadn’t properly discussed this matter, but would Vilya truly heed my advice?

I led Vilya to the building. Although she arrived as the lord to her official residence, no one paid any attention. Everyone who had been imprisoned there, now finally free, simply wanted to return home. Not a single person cared about the newly arrived lord.

Vilya, however, seemed unfazed. It appeared she didn’t quite grasp what it meant to be a lord. To her, this town held no significance for governance; it was merely a new dwelling. After all, she still considered herself a soldier.

Yet, this particular location didn’t seem very suitable for an office.

After dealing with the people and then walking, dusk had slowly begun to fall. It was probably around five or six in the afternoon, but being in the north, night descended quickly.

The moment we stepped inside, we were met by that same frigid air and scattered ruins. Confining a large group of people here, preventing anyone from leaving, inevitably meant an accumulation of all sorts of trash and filth. The deserters, it seemed, hadn’t cared. Now, the mansion reeked of putrefaction and was littered with refuse. Lia, repulsed, hid behind me. I, too, felt a strong reluctance to set foot in here a second time. During my first visit, with so many people present, I hadn’t noticed the squalor as much. Now, with the place deserted, it felt truly sickening.

Vilya, however, appeared oblivious to the environment. She strode into the main hall, surveying her surroundings without acknowledging the squalor to her left or right. Then, she turned back to me. “Are we going to live here from now on?” she asked.

“No, I think this place is just for gatherings,” I replied. “The lord’s living and working quarters should be further back.”

This hall was likely where the lord held assemblies and banquets. For now, we could ignore this area, but it couldn’t be neglected indefinitely. However, Vilya hadn’t brought any staff. To clean this place, we would have to rely on the townsfolk’s efforts, which seemed unlikely today.

I gently covered Lia’s nose and mouth; the stench here was truly problematic.

Next, we headed towards a hidden door at the back. Vilya reached the door, pushed it open, and revealed a corridor beyond. At the end of this corridor lay another house, situated horizontally. The long passageway was open on both sides, merely a colonnade supported by pillars. From this vantage point, the house appeared square, with a massive flowerbed and a fountain in the central courtyard. However, the fountain was now broken and dry, and only bare soil remained in the flowerbed.

‘Perhaps this place wasn’t particularly luxurious even in its prime…’

We walked through the corridor. Lia gazed curiously at the open space in the middle, then looked at me with a hint of envy. “Papa, can we plant flowers here?” she asked.

“Flowers? Of course, we can,” I replied. “But with this season and temperature, it’s probably not possible right now.”

I looked at Lia, standing before me, and gently ruffled her hair. Her expression showed a touch of disappointment, but being a sensible child, she understood it couldn’t be helped. She tugged lightly at my clothes, whispering, “When I was there, I never saw any flowers. I always wanted to see them. I heard flowers come in so many different colors, all sorts of kinds. Is that true?”

Lia lifted her small face. In my eyes, she was the prettiest flower in the entire winter. My heart ached slightly as I gently pinched her cheek. “Yes,” I said earnestly. “Papa promises you, as long as the weather permits, Papa will plant flowers all over here. All sorts of colorful flowers, Papa will plant them for you.”

“Really!!”

Lia looked at me, happily embracing my arm and exclaiming with excitement.

I nodded, then pulled my little daughter close. I hadn’t listened closely to what Lia had endured in her early childhood, nor did I intend to delve into it. The darkness of the past was precisely that—past—for Lia. From now on, I would not allow her to suffer anything more. Lia was fortunate; for her, childhood was just beginning. It was now my turn to ensure my Lia’s happiness.

We reached a doorway. Vilya touched the door, then turned back to me. “It’s locked,” she stated.

“Ah… yes, that makes sense…”

‘Well, thinking about it, it’s quite normal. I just don’t know who has the key now. What are we going to do about this door? Are we really forced to go back and sleep in that awful place? No way, I’d rather sleep outside, despite the cold, than in that reeking dump. I feel like I’d get sick there.’

Before I could even decide where to sleep outdoors, Vilya simply lifted her leg and kicked the door open.

I stared blankly at Vilya. Well, this kind of thing had happened before; Vilya could kick open the town gates with a single blow, so kicking open this door was no issue.

However, once the door opened, I froze completely. This was clearly a residential house, with a corridor stretching before us. Yet, this corridor was absolutely crammed full of burlap sacks.

The burlap sacks appeared to be bulging. I eyed them with curiosity, but Vilya, seemingly unconcerned, walked straight into the house.

‘Hey, hey, hey, aren’t you going to check for supplies before going in?’

I, however, opened one of the sacks in front of me. To my surprise, it contained unhusked rice. Yes, rice, not yet processed, just harvested grain. And it seemed the harvest hadn’t been long ago.

In several other sacks, I even discovered furs and dried meat. Some of the jerky wasn’t fully air-dried. The moment I opened a bag, a putrid stench of decay wafted out.

I observed the corridor, filled to the brim with a multitude of burlap sacks. The sheer quantity of grain here seemed excessive. If this were a granary, such an amount would be normal. But this was the lord’s residence; why would all this grain be piled here?

Or perhaps, had the soldiers brought all this grain here? That would make sense, as the deserters likely intended for a prolonged struggle. These provisions must have been confiscated from the townsfolk.

If so, the townsfolk would have no grain left. The deserters certainly wouldn’t have considered leaving any for planting. Now, most of the townsfolk would be utterly destitute.

In that case, we wouldn’t starve, but what about the townsfolk below? Without grain for winter, the townsfolk would surely perish. It seemed these provisions absolutely had to be distributed. As I’d said before, a lord is nothing without their people, and Vilya needed these people to govern.

“Papa!! Is this our food? Did those people give it to us?!”

Lia stared at the burlap sacks before her, exclaiming in surprise.

I shook my head. “This food belongs to the people below,” I clarified, “not to us.”

“But if we eat just a little, no one will find out, right?”

Lia gazed at the cured meat strips, her eyes brimming with yearning.

I glanced at her and Vilya. I suspected that once these two started eating, they’d consume quite a bit. However, if we didn’t eat these supplies now, we would have nothing. Vilya hadn’t brought any food, and while I’d assumed there would be provisions here, it seemed the amount of food we’d found was quite substantial.

However, as a lord, levying a small tax was perfectly normal. Therefore, consuming some of these provisions now shouldn’t be an issue.

But first, I needed to ascertain Vilya’s thoughts. I looked at Vilya; she met my gaze, then stated, “I don’t cook.”

“…Are you implying that we can eat this stuff?”

“Why not? Aren’t these ours?”

Vilya, for her part, looked completely unconcerned. I observed her, realizing she was indeed much like Lia—or rather, Vilya was a magnified version of Lia, save for her strength. I sighed, then explained, “This food was likely taken from the people below.”

“Isn’t it normal for the people to support the army?”

“Firstly, people support the army only when they can afford to. Secondly, we are not an army now. We are the lord. A lord must levy taxes judiciously. Killing the goose that lays the golden eggs is wrong.”

“Kill a chicken? There’s chicken to eat!?”

“…No, Lia, I was just making an analogy…”

“Then let’s find a chicken and kill it.”

“No, no, no!! You’re a lord, not a bandit!! Don’t just go around robbing people at the drop of a hat!”

‘Alright, these two, I swear they’re just like children.’

Since neither of them could cook, it seemed I was the only one capable. I was actually quite adept in the kitchen; after all, when living alone, if you didn’t cook for yourself, there wouldn’t be anything good to eat.

Aside from the lack of seasonings, the provisions were decent. There were no spices, only salt, but with plenty of meat and something resembling potatoes, a stew seemed appropriate.

Although there was no rice, I found a very similar substitute: a white, floury substance, though not in long grains. Surely, it would be edible.

As I selected the ingredients, a flicker of firelight appeared from behind me. Vilya had ignited the cold hearth.

Warmth and light now danced within the room. The once frigid house finally held a touch of comfort.

Vilya rose from beside the hearth, looked at me, and asked, “Need help?”

“Just help me light the stove in the kitchen,” I replied.

Unsure of what the kitchen would look like, I carried a pile of ingredients over. To my surprise, the stove here was similar: an earthen hearth with a cooking surface above it, where a stew pot rested.

Honestly, I always thought food cooked in an iron pot tasted better. But there was no room for pickiness now.

Vilya knelt to light the fire, while I stood by the chopping board, picking up a cleaver. After a moment’s thought, I put it back down.

The knife was unusable, entirely covered in rust.

“Vilya,” I asked, “could you help me chop these vegetables and meat into pieces?”

I glanced at Vilya’s longsword as I spoke.

Vilya turned, nodded, and walked over to me.

The kitchen was not large. With the two of us inside, it felt rather cramped. I tried my best to avoid bumping into Vilya, but since she needed space to wield her longsword, I had nowhere to retreat. I could only stand to her left.

As a result, Vilya and I were pressed close together.

I leaned my body away as much as possible. Yet, Vilya’s face was mere inches from mine, and her scent enveloped me. She meticulously used her longsword to slice the vegetables and meat into pieces, her left elbow lightly brushing my chest. I found myself at a loss for words.

It felt somewhat intimate, yet incredibly awkward.

Just then, a small body suddenly squeezed between us. Both Vilya and I paused in surprise. I looked down to see Lia’s tiny form tightly hugging my stomach, her face wary as she eyed Vilya beside her. Vilya looked down at Lia, then at me. A moment later, she lowered her longsword and turned, walking out of the kitchen.

I instinctively reached out to stop her, but Lia, quick as a flash, grabbed my arm, her face etched with anger. I offered a wry smile, then bent down to kiss Lia’s forehead. “You can go anywhere you like,” I told her, “Papa needs to cook now.”

“No… I want to stay here and watch Papa…”

Lia pouted, her brows furrowed into a ‘W’ shape. She plopped down on the kitchen floor, clearly determined not to leave.

I chuckled helplessly, left with no choice but to begin cooking under Lia’s watchful gaze.

Soon, I finished preparing the meal and placed it on the table. Potato stew with meat was a fundamental dish, and paired with steamed rice, it should taste quite good.

Since there were no chopsticks here, I set out three spoons.

Placing the kettle on the still-burning stove to boil water, we then sat down at the dining table. Lia and I sat on one side, with only the hearth’s glow behind us. The food before us, however, emanated an incredibly tempting aroma and warmth. At this moment, Lia eagerly picked up her spoon, scooping a large portion of stew, rich with meat and gravy, onto her plate.

“Papa!!! This… this is too delicious!!”

After her first bite, Lia covered her mouth, her face filled with disbelief.

“Good, then eat plenty; there’s still a lot,” I said, smiling as I ruffled her hair. The pride of cooking lay in the praise and happiness of family afterward. This was everything I was experiencing now; seeing Lia’s joyful smile brought me absolute contentment.

On the other side, Vilya curiously took a bite. I watched her with a touch of nervousness. However, Vilya barely chewed at all; instead, she began eating heartily.

I had prepared a generous amount.

Normally, it would have been enough for five or six people.

But it seemed that, thanks to Vilya and Lia’s diligent efforts, almost nothing was left.

After the meal, I smiled gently at Lia, who lay contentedly on my lap like a cat. Opposite me, Vilya wiped her mouth, stood up, and declared, “So, from now on, you’ll be responsible for our three meals a day.”

And so, I transformed from a s*ave.

Into a chef.