Abandoned Empress's Survival Manual Beside the Male Lead - Chapter 50

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 50
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After continuing to inspect the Kitchen and issue instructions to the servants, I came up to the Bedroom early in the evening.
The reason was that something kept nagging at me.
That box Sherkan had sent.
The Bedroom was always warm. It had the coziness of a meadow where the Spirit of Abundance might pause to rest its eyes for a moment.
“Hmm……”
I sat heavily on the bed and began carefully to unwrap the box Sherkan had sent.
The knots were extraordinarily tight, perhaps from a long journey. It took nearly ten minutes to undo all the seals and finally open it.
When I opened it, a light like polished gold glimmered. I reflexively narrowed my brows, then reached out to touch the Gold Coins and Banknotes piled high within.
He’s sent this much again.
I’d seen the Emperor’s Spoils Inventory List, but that hadn’t arrived yet.
So this must be from Sherkan’s personal funds again.
Another payment for my life, then.
I was toying absently with the cold coins when I found three Letters tucked carelessly inside.
My eyes widened.
“A reply?”
My hands moved faster than I intended as I opened the Letters. I read through the contents once, and my eyes grew wide. Then I read again.
“Why are you making that face, Rel?”
Ratku tilted his round head from where he sat on the windowsill.
I let out a quick, awkward cough.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.”
“You’re too young to need to know.”
“Ratku is not a baby! Ratku is not a baby!”
I took a deep breath and looked back down at the Letters.
Three pages. Only a single line on each.
[You’ll probably be able to see.]
[I think I can make it.]
[I’ll come see you then.]
“……”
I stared at his handwriting for a long time. There wasn’t a single grandiose word. The lines were short and blunt. And yet my eyes kept returning to the first line.
Three lines was all there was. That was strange somehow.
I turned the Letter over. The back was blank—the blank space left by someone who had nothing more to say.
I could feel the passage of time between each page.
When he wrote the first, the Imperial Banquet schedule hadn’t been finalized yet. The second suggested the situation had improved slightly, and perhaps he could attend after all.
And the last……
[I’ll come see you then.]
The final Letter I had sent came back to me.
[Will I be able to see you at the Imperial Palace then?]
It was so brief that I remembered every detail, even the question mark. In fact, all my Letters to Sherkan were like that. I’d never written at length.
Not because I had nothing to say, but because the more I wrote, the clearer it would become what I truly wanted.
That was something I wished to avoid.
So I kept cutting and cutting until all that remained were trivial details……
“……Will I be able to see him?”
At least those words were sincere.
I found myself fiddling absently with the edge of the Letter. Each time the paper’s corner grazed my fingertip, something scraped against my skin. It didn’t hurt, and I had no desire to make it stop.
Meanwhile, Ratku, who had been rolling about on the bed, asked:
“Why is your face turning red, Rel?”
“It’s just a bit warm?”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“……”
I often found myself choking on Ratku’s manner of speaking.
After a brief, lighthearted scuffle with Ratku, I succeeded in wrapping him up completely in a blanket.
“Stay still!”
“Mmmmph.”
Only after I let out a small sigh of relief did I open the rosewood drawer.
As always, I counted out Sherkan’s Gold Coins one by one and arranged them neatly.
The coins chimed softly as they touched. I didn’t dislike that sound.
So why couldn’t I bring myself to spend them?
“I’ll see you at the banquet…….”
I murmured as I sealed the letter.
At the same time, I decided I ought to call for Gavin.
A sudden doubt had seized me.
The fact that Sherkan hadn’t yet returned meant the situation on the battlefield wasn’t entirely resolved.
So why had Sherkan sent the Gonnet Order ahead to the estate? Was there some other reason?
“Mew…… Mew…….”
Ratku had fallen asleep at some point.
“Mrrr…… Mrrr…….”
Cradling the sleeping Ratku and drawing the blanket over us both, I stared at the ceiling for quite a long time.
Outside, the world was slowly growing dark.
The half-drawn curtains; through the window, night was arriving, having consumed the sunset, while the room remained caught in that half-light warmth of day.
I closed my eyes several times, then opened them again.
Sherkan’s gaze kept returning to me. His eyes were like dying embers growing pale.
The sort of coals you think have burned out completely, then look inside and find still burning red at the core.
That color lingered behind my eyelids. It wouldn’t fade, and I didn’t want it to.
It was a strange thing.
4. How to Become Obsessed with a Former Deposed Consort
Four days later.
Erih shouted.
“Oh, merciful gods!”
Abandoning his abacus somewhere behind him, he charged toward the pot with both arms spread wide.
“It’s stew! Not gruel! Stew! And bread too! Sausages!”
I’d felt it even when Oswald and his daughter arrived, but the Grand Banquet Hall of the Ancestral Estate was truly vast and high.
Could it not hold ten thousand people?
I moved forward with a smile.
The long table set in the center of the hall seemed to stretch beyond sight. Across it lay food in steaming heaps, with not a single empty space.
Erih clung to the pot and cried out.
“Stew! Stew! Not gruel! Stew!”
What first caught my eye were three pots of stew.
The one made by simmering pork bones down to richness and finishing with cream was pungent and fragrant from the start. Above the creamy broth, steam rose in thick, white wisps.
The spiced version had boiled down to a rich red; the scent of chili pepper pricked the bridge of my nose sharply.
Each ladle-full brought up carrots and potatoes and whole mushrooms that had softened in the broth, heavy and substantial. Above them were scattered blanched leeks, tiny green jewels scattered across the crimson surface.
“Look here — the vegetables are too much for the broth to handle!”
The knight who accepted the ladle tapped his neighbor with it.
Mushrooms and potatoes tumbled onto the plate almost faster than they could be served.
Erih shouted again.
“Bread! Wheat bread fresh from the oven! Not gruel!”
Freshly baked loaves were piled high as a mountain.
The crusts had puffed up golden and crisp; torn open by hand, warm steam burst forth from within.
Butter lay generously beside them. Tear the bread, spread the golden butter, and feel it melt and run through your fingers in the heat. Thick slices of cheese were offered in abundance.
“Just smell the fresh-baked aroma. The scent of baking bread has seized the entire hall.”
One of the serving maids carrying trays sniffed the air and whispered to a colleague.
The sausages were roasted over the hearth until golden, glistening with rendered fat.
Their thin casings were pulled taut and shiny; the moment a knife touched them, they burst with a snap, steam exploding forth.
Though the meat itself was scant, the bold seasoning and minced mushroom filling that took up the bulk was quite ingeniously balanced.
It was worth having squeezed four or five butchers dry.
While ordering the sausages, I’d also swept up the leftover pork bones at a pittance after the meat had been stripped away.
Those bones were now steeping in that cream pot, releasing their deep, rich broth.
Looking nearby, Gavin was eating quite enthusiastically himself.
‘Well, half those mushrooms came from him foraging anyway.’
The Sweet Potato Chips and Potato Chips were quite eagerly being heaped onto the knights’ individual plates.
The Boiled Eggs were popular too.
The knights at first whispered whether they might be goose eggs, then quickly began tapping the shells with spoons and earnestly popping them into their mouths.
And at the very end came dessert.
‘The most expensive thing here. Truly expensive.’
Sugar was terribly dear. The nobles use it lavishly enough, but our Gonnet Order’s coffers are not so flush.
Preparing something sweet as a final course proved harder than expected.
So what I chose was this.
“Will the knights perhaps recognize the Pumpkin Pie with its whipped cream piped into flowers? No — let them simply enjoy the sweetness as it comes. Grand Duchess, might this Bridget presume to show off her humble skill?”
So saying, Bridget set about making a pumpkin pie.
‘Pumpkin pie!’
She used sugar sparingly, compensating instead with cheaper ingredients to marshal every hint of sweetness.
Over the round pie, golden filling puffed luxuriously, and the surface baked with cinnamon glowed with a soft sheen.
When she cut a slice, steam curled upward and a sweet, honeyed aroma bloomed across the room. The pumpkin filling, made from reduced molasses, was genuinely rich.
“Sweets at a banquet, no less.”
“Aren’t you pushing yourself too hard? Though I hear the Commander goes foraging for mushrooms at dawn every day.”
“I heard that too. But why on earth?”
“Who knows? Let’s just eat.”
Knights gathered around the plate where the pumpkin pies were stacked, murmuring softly. Vitality and joy spilled over everywhere.
It was a banquet of common, cheap things laid out in abundance.
No rare meats, no expensive spices. And yet the table looked as though it might burst with plenty.
Most of all, the knights’ reactions were delightful.
“This is delicious!”
“How long has it been since we’ve had something warm like this instead of rations?”
One man dunked bread whole into the stew and stuffed it into his mouth; another speared two sausages on his fork and bit into them.
The sound of jokes exchanged with neighbors, clinking cups, raucous laughter—all of it rose to the ceiling.
These were the same men who’d stood in silence not long ago on the parade ground.
I sat at the head of the table, watching the scene unfold quietly.
With a bandaged arm I tore bread; with an injured leg stretched beneath the table, I drained my cup.
They were people who had survived the battlefield. In any case, their efforts had played no small part in Sherkan’s amassing of such extraordinary war spoils.
My cheeks warmed without reason.
Though the table was not lavish, seeing everyone eat with such pleasure eased my mind.
“Your Grace, forgive my tardiness.”
As the banquet reached its height, Bridget returned. She came quietly to my side and produced a ledger.
It was the Spoils Inventory List brought from the Council of Elders.
For four days, the Council had resisted, dragging out the delivery of the spoils list.
But who was Bridget?
Once I sent along an escort of knights, her resolve shone all the brighter. Even as Bridget helped with the banquet preparations at the Ancestral Estate, she pressed the Council daily until she brought back this thick ledger.
Bridget spoke with a cunning smile.
“When sweet words no longer worked, I took the liberty of persuading them more firmly.”
In other words…
‘She squeezed them.’
“You’ve worked hard, Bridget. Your knee is all right?”
“All well, Your Grace. But Your Grace! If it were for you, this Bridget would hang my head from the very rafters!”
“No, no—thank you… Go eat. And rest properly after this.”
“I wish to remain at your side, Your Grace.”
“I want Bridget to eat.”
“I shall return at once, Your Grace.”
Bridget descended toward the banquet table.
I laughed softly, then opened the spoils list and began to read.
‘Hmm.’
As I turned the first page, my eyes betrayed me.
‘…The Imperial Palace sent how much?’
Three hundred thousand Rebe?
For a moment I wondered if I were dreaming.
‘Thirty billion won all at once?’

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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