Betrothed to My Sister's Ex

Approaching the guest dining hall of Granado Castle, we could hear the voice of the marquis. He was talking to someone.

Lord Cyrus and I exchanged glances. We also signaled to Nanny Ella, putting our index finger to our lips, and pressed our ears against the door.

…Even through the door, we could tell he was in a good mood. Marquis Dario was chatting away alone in a sing-song tone.

“Hmm! Chef, you’re quite impressive. The taste is superb, and the menu and presentation are perfect!”

“Thank you very much, monsieur.”

The responding voice was from Toppo, the head chef of Granado Castle.

“With this, it wouldn’t lose to court cuisine. But you rely a bit too much on the sauce, don’t you?”

There was the sound of silverware tapping on a plate.

“In our homeland Sphain, we cook by making the most of nature’s bounty. The base flavor is garlic and olive oil. We don’t escape into heavy sauces but savor the fresh ingredients themselves.”

“I see…”

“Well, this is probably a sophistication that Dilz people can’t understand. Their agriculture and fishing are underdeveloped, and fresh ingredients are scarce. Their food is mostly like preserved foods—they eat nothing but potatoes and sausage, or so I’ve heard.”

“That’s true… As you say, so Toppo adds color to the table with sauces learned in Flaria.”

“In that regard, Sphain is mostly surrounded by the sea! Seafood is the pillar of the table, and preserved foods are more advanced than in Dilz. Chef, are you familiar with the concept of ‘dashi’? Do you know the taste of the broth that comes from boiling live shellfish?”

“Yes, before coming to Granado Castle, I also traveled to Sphain—”

“Even if Dilz cuisine develops in the future, it’ll be pointless. Their people’s palates and self-awareness aren’t cultivated; they’d probably say everything tastes the same no matter what they eat. Ha ha ha ha!”

Hmm, that’s rude. Sure, I usually eat most things deliciously, but that’s because I endured extreme poverty for a long time and every nutrient was precious. I do have my opinions about what tastes good or not. Putting me aside, the slander against Dilz is terrible. It’s not true that there’s nothing but potatoes and sausages, and Lord Cyrus is a gourmet. Toppo’s dishes are diverse, and every single one is always delicious. There’s no reason to mock us.

Perhaps encouraged, Marquis Dario let out a snort.

“And… this variety in such a short time. Surely this is just leftovers from last night, or someone’s scraps collected together?”

“Huh!? N-no, that’s not true. It’s because we heard that master would be returning soon—”

“Lying too, are you? I’ll make a note of this insult so I won’t forget it for the rest of my life.”

“N-no, that’s…”

Toppo’s panicked, almost tearful voice sounded. That’s awful, it’s a false accusation. I can’t forgive them for making the crybaby Toppo want to cry. I wanted to storm into the dining hall with fire in my nostrils, but Lord Cyrus stopped me.

“Watch over Nanny Ella.”

He whispered quietly to me, then quietly pushed open the door to the dining hall alone.

Granado Castle’s guest dining hall is very spacious. It’s also used for banquets, with a huge table that can seat thirty people and plenty of space for servers to move about. Marquis Dario, sitting alone in such a place, wasn’t surprised by the sudden appearance of the lord of the castle. Instead of standing, he just looked up from the fork with a piece of meat on it. He smiled slyly and spoke lightly.

“Count Cyrus, welcome home.”

“...Marquis Dario. I wasn’t informed of your arrival and apologize for having been away.”

Though his tone was polite, it clearly carried the pressure of “You should have at least notified me in advance.” But Marquis Dario was indifferent, flicking the fork wet with white sauce.

“You have a fine cook in your service. Quite skilled. Though it’s just leftovers.”

“That’s not true…”