By the Grace of the Gods

“It’s about time for lunch.”

By the time we had gathered a fair amount of data from repeated experiments, Ms. Luluneze murmured this.

“Is it already that time? Well then, let’s wrap up today’s experiments around here. Everyone probably has their meals to attend to as well.”

“Understood.”

That single word became the signal, spreading through the group via Ms. Luluneze.

Watching everyone clean up, I noticed the madam looking rather gloomy...

“Madam, are you alright?”

“Ryoma-kun? Nothing in particular is wrong.”

When I called out, she replied as usual.

It didn’t seem like she was hiding any health issues.

Maybe I had just misinterpreted it earlier?

“You just looked a bit down, so I wondered if you weren’t feeling well.”

“Oh, is that so… thank you. But it’s nothing serious. It’s about the lunch coming up…”

Lunch?

Her answer was unexpected, and I’m sure the doubt was clearly visible on my face.

The madam chuckled and continued explaining.

“You know, winter—especially around the New Year—is the social season for the nobility. There are many large and small parties, so there are plenty of opportunities to dine with others. But, to be frank... the food at those events is really awful.”

“…Now that you mention it.”

It feels like ages ago, but it’s been less than a year—the time we held the completion party for my shop.

“You mentioned something like that back then too. That noble cuisine is expensive but tastes bad, or something of the sort.”

Since she praises my cooking so highly, I had thought nobles normally eat much better food. But I remember getting a strong counterargument on that point. However, all the meals I’ve had at this mansion have been delicious and luxurious…

“The dishes for parties are quite different. Quite a few noble families actually eat what they call ‘noble cuisine’ regularly, but I, or rather we, don’t think much of it, so we eat normal meals most of the time. The dishes we serve guests also depend on which type they prefer.”

I see. So it’s better to think of them as entirely different types of cuisine.

“So, now that you’ve brought it up, are we going to have party-style food for lunch?”

“Yes. If you’re hosting a party, you need to decide on the food to be served. Plus, we often get invited to parties, so we have to eat that style of food there, right? That’s why during this season, we gradually eat those dishes to get used to them. ...Are you perhaps interested?”

“It wouldn’t be a lie to say I am, but…”

I’m curious about the cuisine the madam is talking about.

But party food must be more expensive than ordinary meals.

To ask to try it out of mere curiosity...

“I don’t really recommend it, but if you want to try, that’s fine. I really don’t recommend it, but since these are test dishes, there should be about one extra serving made. If you mention it to the head chef, I think he can prepare it. Still, I don’t recommend it.”

“...Then, may I ask you to do so?”

Curiosity won over me...

“Alright then, I’ll send someone to call you to the room once it’s ready.”

Before I knew it, the cleanup from the experiments was complete.

And now it was lunchtime.

“Hey Ryoma-kun, how did the experiments go?”

“Thanks to everyone, they were meaningful.”

While chatting until the party cuisine arrived, I reported the results to Mr. Reinhardt.

“From the morning’s experiments, we’ve gotten a clearer direction for the product we aim to create.”

I was worried that those who helped with the experiments might still be a bit tense due to the circumstances, but they relaxed more than I expected and openly gave honest opinions.

The two most common opinions were:

- They want a sugar scrub with a strong fragrance.

- They want a sugar scrub with no fragrance.

These were completely opposite opinions, and the supporters were almost evenly split.

I, who thought adding fragrance was better, was a bit surprised.

So I looked into this more closely and found that the desire for strongly scented sugar scrubs came mainly from the “commoner women” who were simply hired servants.