Chapter 51: A Culinary Conundrum and an Unexpected Visitor

“Well, there’s no need to concern myself with such matters for now. In any case, I should first return to the Demon Lord’s Castle and claim the long-awaited reward from the Demon Lord.”

After exchanging a glance with the Demon Lord’s projection, the rune stone, flickering with spiritual fire, returned to Noah’s hand.

As she placed the rune stone back into the alluring valley of her cleavage, the cool touch elicited an alluring breath from Noah.

Reaching out her hand, pure magic flowed from her fair, jade-like hand into the blood-red coffin before her.

While rousing Clennina from her slumber within, Noah mused leisurely, a pleasant smile gracing her face.

She had already begun to fantasize about what delectable reward the adorable Demon Lord was preparing for her excellent work.

***

However, the ‘Demon Lord’ whom Noah yearned for was currently standing before the stove in the maid’s kitchen, a troubled expression on her face as she gazed at the recipes and ingredients Astolfo had prepared.

The Demon Lord’s Castle boasted two kitchens: the grand kitchen on the first floor, and the maid’s kitchen on the third floor.

The grand kitchen on the first floor was primarily managed by burly minotaur and satyr demons.

Their muscular physiques allowed them to skillfully handle all manner of ingredients, providing suitable daily meals for the entire Demon Lord’s Castle.

Conversely, the maid’s kitchen on the third floor was exclusively reserved for the maids to prepare exquisite dishes.

If the grand kitchen on the first floor exuded a philosophical ambiance of muscle and sweat clashing with passion, then the maid’s kitchen on the third floor resembled an elegant flower garden, permeated with the scent of lilies.

Should Her Majesty the Demon Lord desire afternoon tea or a late-night snack, the maids on standby would prepare it for her in the maid’s kitchen.

This elegant maid’s kitchen was also where Noah had previously prepared bento boxes.

“What should I make, then…”

Letitia, caught in the throes of indecision, furrowed her brow as if contemplating a grand proposition capable of altering the cosmos on a macroscopic scale. Beside her, Astolfo let out a sigh.

A full half-hour had passed, yet the cooking utensils and ingredients before Letitia remained untouched.

The reason for this situation was that Letitia, having taken over and completed her official duties, had sought out Astolfo and posed a question to her:

“I wish to do something for Noah,” she had inquired. “From your perspective, what would be suitable for me to make?”

Astolfo’s reply had been:

“In that case,” she had suggested, “would you perhaps consider following Lady Noah’s example and preparing a meal for her in return?”

“Even if it’s just a small dish, as long as it expresses your feelings and you personally feed it to her, I believe Lady Noah would be delighted.”

Astolfo, uttering these words as if they were self-evident, failed to notice an obvious truth:

A sheltered young lady, over a thousand years old, simply possessed no culinary skills whatsoever.

Moreover, creatures like liches only required absorbing the essence of the earth to sustain their existence.

Their sole culinary expertise involved slicing meat, salting it, marinating it for a period, and then consuming it directly. For a lich, this was already considered a delicacy akin to wine or coffee.

Incidentally, liches only favored cured meats, turning their noses up at kimchi or pickled vegetables.

Her inability to cook would not have been an issue. Following Astolfo’s recipes, Letitia’s capabilities would have allowed her to master them swiftly.

Yet, Letitia had agonized for a long time over what exactly to prepare, a dilemma that had caused her more distress than even the prospect of initiating a war.

For her, ordinary dishes were, of course, out of the question. It had to be something special, something that could instantly conquer Noah’s palate and broaden her perception of their relationship beyond the confines of a narrow bed!

She had even prepared succubus milk, stored at a low temperature, intending to transform this delicious ingredient—sourced from Noah herself—into a dish that would mark the first step in her conquest of Noah!

‘Hmph, hmph~,’ she could already envision the scene: Noah, murmuring about how delicious the food was as Letitia fed her, while nestling against her shoulder, and praising, ‘The Demon Lord is so amazing~’.

“Um… Your Majesty,” Astolfo interjected, “I believe Lady Noah isn’t looking for something ‘special,’ but rather a romantic and sweet everyday experience.”

Astolfo’s face was lined with exasperation. Although she didn’t know exactly what Letitia was thinking, seeing the Demon Lord narrow her eyes and let out an evil ‘kukuku’ laugh, she knew it had to be some impractical fantasy.

Through her observations these past few days, she believed what would truly move Noah was not any special treatment, but rather a warm and meticulous everyday life.

Having frequently dealt with all sorts of irrational occurrences, Noah was capable of maintaining a relatively stable composure when faced with unusual events.

Conversely, when spending a truly memorable ordinary day with a loved one, she would, ironically, find herself somewhat at a loss.

However, such matters were best left for Her Majesty the Demon Lord to comprehend on her own.

After all, she was merely a maid, only able to offer suggestions, not to overstep her mistress and make decisions.

Just as Letitia became lost in her fantasies, a polite knock sounded at the kitchen door.

“Pardon the intrusion, Your Majesty.”

Clad in a pale blue ballet dress, the doll-like Beatrice, as elegant and graceful as a swan, pushed the door open and entered.

Her raised chest, flat abdomen, slender thighs, and slightly tilted head all proclaimed the Tower Knight’s unparalleled elegance and confidence.

She offered a slight bow to the two individuals in the kitchen, her frosty, delicate face as exquisite as a goddess’s visage.

“Beatrice, do you have something to report?”

Letitia swiftly smoothed the wrinkles from her apron, hastily straightened her posture, and casually wiped away the drool that had nearly escaped the corner of her mouth, presenting herself as a dignified Demon Lord before her subordinate.

Her swift actions made Astolfo roll her eyes involuntarily.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Beatrice replied, “I wish to inquire about Lady Noah’s whereabouts. Yesterday, I noticed the ring on her hand seemed familiar, and I hope to confirm it with her.”

The earnest and innocent Beatrice naturally failed to notice the Demon Lord’s state. Her long eyelashes drooped slightly, beautiful and captivating as if dusted with snow, as she spoke in a respectful manner.

“Noah is not in the Demon Lord’s Castle,” Letitia replied. “She will likely return in the evening.”

Letitia, currently absorbed in overcoming her culinary predicament, did not react sufficiently to Beatrice’s words. She casually added a question:

“By the way, Beatrice,” Letitia asked, “do you have any experience with cooking? What kind of dessert do you think would be most delicious to make with succubus milk?”

“Ah, yes,” Beatrice replied, “in my humble opinion, it would be quite delightful if made into ice cream.”

Beatrice blinked her beautiful eyes and effortlessly provided the answer that Letitia had painstakingly failed to deduce.

The next moment, a fragrant breeze swept past, as Letitia seized Beatrice’s hand, her dark red eyes fixed intently upon her.

“You… what did you just say?”