The Villainous Princess Wants to Live in a Gingerbread House - Chapter 55

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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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The Villainous Princess Wants to Live in a Pastry Shop
Episode 55

‘It’s just how I feel about it. And that elf, Ahti—there’s something wrong with his gaze. The way he’s eyeing Kalno is unsettling.’
Besides, could those people who glare at Kalno like that truly look after Iven properly?
The reason Asha was thinking of sending Iven to them wasn’t out of fear of the future—the future in which Iven, harboring a grudge against the original Asha for her cruelty, would kill her. Rather, she’d wondered if the answer to managing Iven’s emotions might lie with the elves, the very source of his power.
‘……Seeing the way they look at Kalno, it seems I shouldn’t send him after all.’
There had been war, and war meant blood had been spilled, so it was perhaps only natural that resentment lingered. And so it seemed unlikely the elves would take careful, tender care of Iven, who was a half-blood with humans.

‘Does Pibi feel the same way?’

When Pibi spoke of sinister designs, he meant only one thing: matters connected to the Sword of Sin. And those who had wielded the Sword of Sin were those who had sought to separate the spirits from humanity.
‘Is that elf also carrying Frasti, whatever it is?’

Pibi’s voice carried a gravity it had not possessed before.

‘……!’
Asha pressed her lips together firmly.
“Shall we begin the meal, then? The Head Chef has put considerable effort into the preparations, though I do wonder if it will suit your tastes.”
Asha sat demurely in the chair Kalno had drawn for her, her fingertips barely brushing the small spoon.
“……Why are you staring at me?”
As Asha glanced back and forth between Kalno and the Nocti Elves, Kalno—who had just picked up his spoon to meet the appetizer—whispered in a low voice. In a setting such as this, it was merely his way of politely saying “what are you looking at?”
“I was thinking you look rather hateful.”
“……Suddenly?”
“Would you prefer I send a warning first?”
“I went to the trouble of bringing you all this way and even pulled out your chair, and this is what I get in return?”
“That’s enough. Let’s eat the soup. It looks hot, so blow on it before you eat.”
“…….”
While whispering quietly with Kalno for a moment, Asha felt eyes upon her. When she glanced up, Lilmari and Ahti were regarding them both with expressions difficult to describe. But they quickly turned their gaze away when their eyes met.

* * *

“I hope the meal has been to your liking.”
“How could I not appreciate such thoughtfulness? I can only express my gratitude.”
Lilmari spoke with a gentle smile. Though the Nocti Elves had occasionally regarded Kalno with cool-eyed disapproval throughout the meal, the banquet hall itself had maintained an atmosphere of relative warmth.
Then, as the appetizer and main course drew to a close and dessert finally emerged, Asha—her expression tense—carefully set down her fork and composed herself.
The Imperial Palace’s Head Chef Fyodor appeared with a trolley bearing a gleaming cloche. Inside it lay the cake Asha had made—the one she and Pavel had labored to create all through the previous afternoon with every ounce of their strength.
They had first carefully prepared the batter mixed with finely grated carrots and baked it into cake layers, then waited for it to cool before slicing it horizontally in half. Between the layers of cake, they had spread a jam made from finely chopped apricots, then piped a smooth, snow-white cashew cream on top, and finally crowned it with a white marzipan bird perched atop the white frosting.
This was Asha’s first time seeing Head Chef Fyodor in the banquet hall. Her first impression of him was curious—it had nothing to do with cooking at all, but rather the vague sense that “he would know how to stand in line properly.”
“You have waited long. This is the final course of this evening’s banquet. The dessert: Lumen Basilica.”
And the moment Fyodor opened the cloche with a graceful flourish, the atmosphere around Lilmari and Ahti transformed entirely.
“……Lumen Basilica?”
As the warmth that had pervaded the banquet hall until now suddenly gave way to rigid tension, and Fyodor searched for some sign of understanding, Asha found herself closing her mouth in haste, having opened it in alarm.
There was only one reason for this silence.
Lilmari and Ahti, confronted with that dessert—which now bore the name of a land lost to the Kaiye Lus Empire, and which appeared to be crowned with a cream made of milk—had not yet decided whether they should be incensed or enraptured by it.
Suddenly, a cascade of dark imaginings flooded through Asha’s mind. What if the peace treaty fell apart right now? What if war erupted again? What if Kalno was dragged to the battlefield forever convinced his spirit was a spirit of death, and what if Iven had nowhere to go……?
“That’s——!”
Asha rose abruptly from her seat. Kalno, who had been beside her, stopped mid-motion as he was setting down his fork and looked at her. Asha rushed to continue speaking.
“That cake is——it’s meant to symbolize a bridge of peace between the Nocti Elves and the Empire going forward, and the white bird will carry peace between our two nations from this day onward.”
“Asha.”
The Emperor interjected in a tone of mild rebuke at her sudden outburst, yet did not tell her to stop. Asha pressed on with passionate explanation toward the startled Lilmari and Ahti.
“The white cream on top represents the eternal snow at the peak of the Lumen Basilica range, and not a single drop of milk went into it! It’s made from cashews, you see.”
“……It seems the Imperial Heir truly understands this cake well.”
“Yes! I made it myself for all of you. And this cashew cream especially——I made it together with Commander Kalno.”
“Heh.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m sorry—what did you say?”
Asha drank from the crystal glass of cold water, and Kalno, whose expression had been difficult to read—caught between a smile and something else—let out a small cough.
In that moment, not only the two Noctis Elves, but Commander Elmin Sherib and Tariei as well turned to stare at Asha and Kalno in turn, astonished.
“Are you saying the Imperial Heir prepared this cake herself?”
Lilmari’s question, addressed to the Emperor and Asha, was answered not by the two of them, but by Alexei, who nodded with a quiet smile.
“Yes. For a month before your arrival, she worked tirelessly. I do hope it suits your taste.”
Alexei gave Fyodor a meaningful glance. Fyodor swiftly grasped that something catastrophic had nearly gone wrong—and narrowly been corrected—and with practiced efficiency, he portioned the cake.
The Lumen Basilica, cut with geometric precision into eight pieces, was plated and set before each guest. Only then did Asha finally release a breath, settling quietly into her seat. Beside her, Kalno fixed her with a look of utter exasperation.
“Why did you mention that I helped make it?”
“Because it’s the truth. You ground all those cashews and made the cream filling.”
“I have told you repeatedly that there is nothing to be gained by speaking of my involvement in such matters.”
“Reconciliation requires compromise on both sides.”
Kalno shook his head with something like resigned bewilderment, while Asha fell silent, keenly aware of the suddenly awkward attention from Lilmari and Ahti.
‘Did I speak too loudly?’
She seemed to have behaved with unseemly levity during an affair of state. Asha shot Kalno a reproachful look for having started the conversation, then turned her attention to her plate. The cake she had labored over for days sat before her.
And slowly, the eight diners lifted their forks. For a brief moment, pleasant small talk circulated around the table.
The Imperial Heir appears to be quite skilled, the girl is young but clever, how fortunate we are to receive such distinguished treatment, we look forward to enjoying Lumen Basilica in the future……
But the conversation lasted only minutes before bursts of silent fireworks—visible only to Asha—began to bloom throughout the hall. The loudest exclamation came from Tariei Nelin.
Alexei and Kalno had tasted the cake before, the Emperor was not inclined toward vocal expression, Elmin Sherib was naturally composed by temperament, and the elves had to maintain their dignity—but Tariei let slip a breathless “Ah!” of wonder.
At Tariei’s words about tasting something like this for the first time, the elves too allowed themselves to voice the admiration they had been holding back.
Such humble ingredients—carrots, apricots—woven together with such beauty and delicacy, achieving such perfect balance of flavor. Anyone would be moved to praise it. Even elves from the Northern Region could not resist.
At first, the elves had been uncertain how to respond to a cake bearing the name and form of territories that would be surrendered as war reparations. But they quickly found their answer.
Had this been mockery, such radiant, painstaking excellence of flavor would be impossible. This cake, then, as the Emperor’s granddaughter had said, must represent a hope for peace to become a foundation for reconciliation. The elves, recognizing the Empire’s earnest commitment to the negotiation, found the conversation flowing more smoothly.
And later that night, in a corner of the Imperial Palace Garden. Lilmari, who had been standing as still as a phantom or a statue, suddenly spoke.
“The other dishes were truly impressive, but that cake—I confess I would take its recipe back with me if possible.”
At his words, Kalno, who had been gazing distantly with an expressionless face, slowly turned his head to face Lilmari.
“Indeed? I shall mention it to the Imperial Heir.”
At that flat response, Lilmari broached an entirely different subject.
“Until now, I had thought you were not quite human.”
“Hmm? That is an intriguing remark.”
Kalno’s sardonic expression. Of all the faces Lilmari had seen him wear today, this was the only one he recognized.
Lilmari thought that had he possessed even a fraction less awareness of his role as representative of the Noctis Elves, he might have cried out in the banquet hall moments before. Kalno Neisuetter—quarreling with a small, delicate-looking child seated beside him……
Had he mentioned this to the other elves, they would have rebuked him for such an unpleasant joke.
‘Even I find it objectionable and absurd.’
Their war had always unfolded in silence. More precisely, every battle that followed Kalno Neisuetter’s appointment as deputy commander of the Imperial forces had proceeded in absolute, merciless quiet.
If one could even call such one-sided slaughter a battle.

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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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