The Possession-Spoon Chef Feeds the Empire - Chapter 82

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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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Episode 82
The kitchen had finally fallen silent.
Luciel rested her chin on her folded arm atop the counter, gathering her thoughts.
Serion had returned to the Imperial Palace.
Though he hadn’t obtained what he’d wanted, the gleam in his eyes as he followed the Emperor and Empress out was not that of a defeated man.
‘He met with Osborn after all.’
Melina had said that Osborn had sought him out.
He’d used the excuse of bringing food, but then spent an hour in conversation with him.
‘The way that talk went is predictable enough.’
The two of them had clearly joined hands.
Though they didn’t seem to care for each other, they would nonetheless believe they could offer each other what they wanted.
Perhaps for that reason, Serion’s eyes held a subtle smile as he departed the Mansion.
His anxiety carefully suppressed, yet his gaze never wavering from Luciel.
That look—as though gazing upon something that would one day be his—lingered upon her for quite some time.
“Hah.”
Luciel exhaled a small sigh.
She’d acquired a more dangerous rival than Osborn.
‘Mother told me to keep my distance.’
Instead, everything had gone the opposite way.
Yet she harbored no regret.
Luciel had always learned from her mother’s actions rather than her words.
Her mother would urge her to prepare to flee, yet she herself frequently rushed toward danger.
To save the Empire, and later, to find her father.
There had been no choice but to do so.
If she simply let things be, the game would unfold exactly as written.
‘So I do everything I can, too.’
She reaffirmed her resolve.
Even though the immediate task seemed complete, one final and most difficult trial remained.
Click—
As she finished organizing her thoughts, the kitchen door swung open and Bael appeared.
“I thought you’d be here.”
“What happened?”
“More or less settled.”
He moved to stand beside her as he spoke.
“Uncle Cain is in discussion with Aunt Loren right now. He says we need to properly understand the Nobility Council before we begin—he seems to have much advice to offer.”
“…….”
Though Devron had been the one attending lately, it was Loren who truly had the substance to contribute.
Luciel found herself nodding along somehow.
Though both couples claimed to dislike politics, there was a difference between Loren, who understood politics well enough to avoid it, and Devron, who simply felt exhausted and wished to have nothing to do with it.
If one sought counsel, naturally the former would be preferable.
“Uncle says he should have tried to engage in politics or whatever far sooner—he’s been avoiding conflict for too long. He’s taking it quite seriously now.”
Luciel let out a soft laugh.
Cain, who had kept himself as low as possible to avoid getting caught between the Direct Line members, had now changed.
The road ahead was long, but he had found his direction.
And Cain Bellaon was the sort of man who could push forward forcefully once he’d made a choice.
“We needed allies in the Council anyway. Even more so if this turns into a prolonged conflict.”
“A prolonged conflict?”
“Yes.”
In answer to Bael’s question, Luciel drew forward a small wooden box that had been resting at the edge of the counter.
“……Chocolate?”
Bael’s head tilted in confusion.
Inside the wooden box lay a single piece of chocolate, refined like a polished jewel with a cool lustrous sheen.
“It’s a gift.”
Despite her words, Bael did not immediately reach for the chocolate.
“Why?”
He simply met her gaze and asked.
His eyes held a mixture of wariness and concern as they fixed upon her.
As though he’d already sensed something.
‘Quick to catch on, as always.’
“Luciel.”
Bael spoke again.
“Are you planning to send me somewhere?”
“……What?”
Luciel’s eyes widened.
How had he figured it out?
“……Because you’ve changed.”
Bael answered. His eyes had grown distant and grave.
“That day, after Aunt Loren returned, when you, Aunt Melina, and Uncle Devron were all here together.”
“…….”
“Something shifted then. As though you were entertaining thoughts you hadn’t before, looking in directions you hadn’t noticed. And…….”
He hesitated a moment before continuing.
“I heard you speaking with Aunt Loren. About what lay in the Faiton Territory, what the conditions were like there, whether it was safe.”
“…….”
“You don’t concern yourself with such details for just anyone. As far as I know, you only do it for me.”
His eyes darkened further as he spoke.
As though he feared what her answer might be—what she was thinking.
“……Yes. I’m going to send you far away.”
She opened her mouth slowly.
“Just as you grew anxious after meeting the Crown Prince, I feel something similar. If you stay here idle, something terrible will happen.”
Luciel spoke as calmly as she could manage.
What had she told Edwin?
She’d advised him that if a path was set before you, you had to walk it.
That counsel applied equally to both Bael and Luciel.
“You need to go, Bael.”
She looked him directly in the eye as she spoke.
“There are enemies both inside and out, you’re still weak, the Duke won’t cast Osborn out without clear proof, and he’s now joined hands with the Imperial Family. Both the Mansion and the Imperial City are dangerous for you.”
“…….”
At the words “still weak,” Bael’s brow furrowed, though he offered no rebuttal.
Since he didn’t protest, Luciel continued.
“Go north. To the Faiton Territory. Loren and her family will help you.”
This was certain.
Now that Devron had made his position clear in a letter, the Faiton Marquess House would have accepted that Devron and Edwin had no interest in advancement or politics.
Loren had never cared for Osborn, and upon hearing of Cedric and his wife’s deaths, she had expressed complete revulsion.
There would be no friendship between Osborn and the Faiton House.
That meant the future of Bellaon, as the Faiton House saw it, came down to very few people.
Melina, Cain, and Bael, essentially.
If Bael came to them, they—those harboring ambitions to entrench themselves in the Imperial City through Bellaon’s connections—would have no choice but to welcome him warmly.
“Just as the Faiton House needs you, you need them. The Imperial City has limits to how much you can grow there, and you will always be in danger.”
It was a conclusion she’d reached after days of unrelenting thought.
In the original story, Bael died without exception—always before coming of age.
No matter what her mother or the game’s other players did, he couldn’t survive within the Bellaon Mansion.
She couldn’t take comfort in having cured his illness. The source of that suffering still dwelt here.
Osborn’s people would be scattered throughout the Mansion, and there were countless ways to kill beyond poison.
But Luciel was not a game player—she was a person living and breathing in this world.
What they could not do, she could.
That was to send Bael far away.
To make him flee the Imperial City, which had been the game’s setting, to the distant North.
So that the game’s scenario could never repeat itself.
“Come back when you’re stronger.”
Luciel smiled faintly as she spoke.
In her mother’s phrasing, it meant to accumulate Stats.
In a place farther and safer than the Imperial City. Enough to succeed in rebellion.
“Stats accumulate fastest through Quests, after all.”
Wasn’t that what her mother had said?
“……Luciel.”
“I don’t want to tremble every time the Crown Prince moves.”
Bael had begun to speak, but she cut him off.
If she didn’t finish saying everything quickly, if he made that pathetic, rain-soaked puppy expression, it would become too hard to continue.
“I want to take control. Now that I’ve made contact with Prince Arnen, we need to shift from defense to offense.”
“Luciel.”
“Expand outward. Beside people you can trust…….”
“Come with me.”
This time it was Bael who cut her off.
“You said you’d listen to everything I said, so I won’t refuse. But come with me.”
“…….”
Luciel smiled softly.
Not a puppy caught in the rain crying, but rather one that would follow its master to the very end.
“I’m not going.”
At her answer, the look in his eyes—so much like that of a lonely dog—grew darker still.

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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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