The Possession-Spoon Chef Feeds the Empire - Chapter 23

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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 23
The old man stood tall, his back unbent.
Though time had etched deep lines into his face, he bore no stamp of decay.
It was the solid, weighty presence that only one who had stood at the summit of power for long years could possess.
His silver hair, worn nearly white by the passage of years, was combed straight back, and his sharp blue eyes still seemed to pierce through everything.
“You’ve come, Father.”
Osborn straightened first, offering a bow.
“Your Grace.”
Cain lowered his head as well.
The Duke surveyed them both slowly.
“Is it true that the two of you, masters of this house, were brawling in front of the servants?”
“I was wrong, Father.”
…….
Osborn bowed first, but Cain remained silent.
“Enough.”
The Duke spoke curtly.
“One of you cannot tell a lie to save his life, and the other is nothing but theater—I can see it written across both your faces.”
Cain’s jaw tightened.
The Duke’s piercing gaze swept across them both, moved to Lenar, and finally settled on Luciel’s face.
“So. All of this chaos over admitting a single child into the kitchen—is that the truth of it?”
“The child has done nothing wrong. It was simply a matter with Bael…….”
“Hold your tongue.”
The Duke cut off Cain’s words, furrowing his brow.
His gaze shifted back toward Luciel.
“Your name and age. Speak.”
“……Luciel. I’m fourteen.”
“At that age, you’re fit for running errands, not cooking.”
The Duke shook his head, dissatisfied.
“Precisely my point, Father.”
Osborn seized the opening.
“Better to transfer her service to Theo instead as a handmaiden…….”
“When I entrust the family’s affairs to you, I am not instructing you to seize from Cain the child he brought.”
At the Duke’s cutting words, Osborn flinched and pressed his lips shut.
Yet his eyes drifted covertly toward Lenar, conveying a silent signal.
“Your Grace.”
Lenar bowed and spoke in turn.
“As you say, the child is far too young. Were she to serve as a cook in the kitchen, she would answer to me, but she is simply not of an age I could command. Should she suffer injury, it would be most troubling.”
“……That is a fair point.”
“Your Grace.”
Cain stepped forward, but the Duke showed no sign of hearing him out.
“Cain, you are as my own son. As master of this house, if you wish to provide the child with room and board, you may do so.”
“This child surpasses any cook we have. She is not a young girl in need of charity, but…….”
“Yet if the kitchen will not accept her, find somewhere else for her.”
The Duke cut through Cain’s words.
“Whether she serves as a maid, or you send her away with coin—settle it as you see fit. And.”
He paused, furrowing his brow.
“Should you ever again permit such matters to tarnish the Family Honor, know that even you will not escape my judgment.”
“I cannot step back.”
“Cain!”
The Duke’s gaze and Cain’s collided with force.
“Since when do you refuse to hear my words?”
“This child is my benefactor. If I am a son of Bellaon, then she has every right to be here.”
“I alone shall decide who has such right!”
The Duke’s voice thundered across the room.
“This is intolerable. Should I witness such a spectacle again, both of you must be prepared for Expulsion.”
Cain moved to block him once more, but the Duke had already turned away.
Before that icy presence, no one dared stand in his path.
Save one.
“……What is this?”
The Duke’s eyebrow rose as he looked down at the girl grasping his mantle.
It was Luciel.
“How dare you lay hands…….”
“Please drink this before you go.”
Somehow, she held a small cup in her hand. Within it swirled an amber liquid.
“What in the world…….”
“It’s a decoction of Dawn Dew Grass. Your headache will improve.”
The Duke stared down at her in bewilderment.
Her eyes gazing up at him were too young and innocent for him to snap at her.
This was precisely why he had wanted to avoid dealing with her directly.
“My headaches are chronic. You cannot cure them.”
“You do suffer from chronic fatigue.”
Luciel spoke steadily.
“But the headache you feel now isn’t simply from exhaustion or stress. It’s a Magnesium deficiency.”
“Magne……what?”
“Magnesium. My mother told me it’s a nutrient needed to maintain bones and muscles. She said the older you grow, the worse your body absorbs it.”
…….
“Physicians often overlook it as mere fatigue or stress. But when Magnesium is deficient for long periods, headaches can feel chronic. Mother tested it and found that Dawn Dew Grass contains a great deal of Magnesium. A decoction seemed the fastest way for your body to absorb it.”
What nonsense is this.
The Duke gazed at the small hand offering the cup, then slowly raised his eyes to study Luciel’s face.
Though he did not fully understand her words, he knew that Dawn Dew Grass was indeed used as a tea leaf.
The Duke had avoided it for its bitter taste, but it was common knowledge that it posed no harm to the human body.
Though not his personal physician, he recalled that Aila Ruan, one of Bellaon’s doctors from long ago, had once recommended the tea to him.
Then this is not an assassination attempt.
“……Troublesome girl. You prepared this just now?”
He snatched the cup from Luciel’s hands and drained it in one gulp.
“Does that change my mind? It does not.”
…….
“Given your age, I shall excuse this once. But should you grasp my cloak again without leave, I shall hold Cain to account for——”
The Duke’s words faltered. He blinked several times.
Something was strange.
The moment he finished the cup, the dizziness that had plagued him moments before seemed to vanish entirely.
He slowly raised his hand to press his temple. Before, even the slightest touch had brought a sharp, throbbing pain, but now there was nothing.
Coincidence, perhaps.
And yet the timing was far too precise for that.
“……Have you been trained in medicine?”
“Not medicine. My mother taught me a little about Nutrition.”
“Hm.”
The Duke cleared his throat and nodded slowly.
“You are not entirely without merit, at least. But hear me well—nothing has changed. You cannot use the kitchen.”
“……Not even briefly, at night?”
“For what purpose?”
“For today, I was thinking of making Cheese Waterfall Tteokbokki for Bael.”
“Cheese Waterfall Tteok—hm!”
The Duke, who had been unconsciously repeating her words, shook his head sharply.
Whatever it was, it sounded delicious for a moment.
But this was not the time for such things.
A man who could not uphold principle was no patriarch at all.
“Your plea cannot take precedence over the authority of a ten-year kitchen master. You have neither shown qualifications nor proven service to Bellaon.”
“How am I to prove it, then?”
The Duke let out a long breath.
She had spoken of making food for Bael.
A sharp pang lanced through his chest.
When was the last time he had seen that child’s face?
The pale, gasping visage of the boy sitting on his bed cut into him with a dull ache.
“You cannot.”
What good would food be to that child?
If physicians and healers, shamans and the learned could not cure him, what could this girl accomplish?
Cain had brought the young girl, calling her a cook, likely hoping only to give Bael a companion of his own age.
But with the boy’s twisted nature, even that would come to nothing.
“Bael will not recover.”
He spoke these words as a final statement.
…….
Luciel seemed as though she would speak, then stopped, and only gazed at the Duke intently.
“Is there more you wish to say?”
“No, it’s not that……there, behind…….”
The Duke’s eyebrows rose. Upon closer inspection, she was not looking at him but at something behind his back.
Luciel was not alone in this.
At some moment, all eyes present had turned to a single point.
Tap, tap—
The sound of hoofbeats.
The Duke turned slowly.
A glossy black horse came into view.
Bathed in the last light of sunset, its mane rippled like flame, and its long legs struck the grass evenly as it approached.
And upon that tall back sat a boy.
“Cedric…….”
A low sound escaped the Duke’s lips.
No.
When he narrowed his eyes, it was not Cedric.
A boy with silver hair and sharp blue eyes, bearing his face as though cast from the same mold—emerging for the first time in two years from his bed.
When the Duke had last seen him, the boy’s face had been deathly pale and gaunt, his breath shallow. Now he sat tall upon the horse, facing the sunset squarely.
It was Bael.

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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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