READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 60
The sun began to set, casting an orange hue through the gloomy clouds of Obsidianberry, and smoke gradually started rising from the chimneys of the port and city.
The smoke was the herald of dinner preparations.
In winter, the sea is notoriously harsh. As the weather warmed, outsiders began to venture into the previously quiet port of Obsidianberry, and it started regaining some of its lost vitality.
However, before a full-blown surge commenced, a large entourage led by the Duke entered the city.
Some who were inadequately prepared were caught off guard by the sudden influx of guests.
Yet, regardless of the era, there are always those who manage to get wind of news first.
Conversely, some took advantage of this to rally as many guests as possible.
The luxury inns and taverns of Obsidianberry were prime examples.
Those who had gotten wind of the Duke’s visit in advance were scrambling to attract guests to their establishments.
Bribes for smooth planning were a given.
From spreading false information, betrayal, employee under-the-table deals, and headhunting, to sabotage in rival territories and food theft—anything was on the table.
The victors achieved their targets.
The vanquished had no choice but to look to the next opportunity.
While there were wins and losses of all sizes, one thing was indisputable: there was a top contender.
That was the Horizon of Iceland, who successfully bribed the city chairman faster than anyone else, brushing off the interference of other competitors to attract the Duke himself.
Of course, it wasn’t only the Duke staying there.
The two sons who accompanied the Duke, as well as the Duke’s personal attendants, were all equally important guests.
However, that didn’t mean they could neglect the treatment of other guests.
The staff of Obsidianberry put their utmost effort into hospitality.
While the loud chatter of guests in the dining area and guest rooms echoed through the inn’s walls, only the sound of clinking tableware filled Catherine’s room.
Of course, it hadn’t always been this way.
Godwin, who had come with Catherine, brought a large grilled salmon and a basket full of assorted bread, claiming it was a gift for himself and William.
When Mary accepted it and set the table while dishing out food and filling glasses with water, there had been plenty of chatter.
Then, the atmosphere took a sharp turn, much like turning off a faucet, once they tasted the chunks and broth of the bouillabaisse.
And Viktor thought to himself that there was no way it could be different.
What kind of dish was bouillabaisse?
It could be a meal for the fishermen of Bersengzeto, or part of a banquet for court nobles, depending on the type and quality of the ingredients.
But to have bouillabaisse made with a treasure crab?
While it did have a smell, he never imagined a whole crab would be included.
Even Viktor, who had extensive experience, had never seen anything like this in such a setting; he had only seen it at noble parties.
He never would have imagined it could be found in the backwoods of the continent of Europa.
“A whole one? Karem, how on earth did you get this?”
“The fishmonger was mumbling about it. Apparently, a rival noble suddenly broke a contract, leaving him in a tough spot.”
“Oh, I see.”
Viktor accepted that explanation by himself.
William, who was tapping the clams and fish submerged in the broth, turned his head.
“Viktor, what’s that about?”
“This was probably a smuggled good. While contracts being broken in smuggling isn’t uncommon, it’s my first time seeing a treasure crab smuggling go to pot.”
“This is smuggled?”
“Of course, young master. Just taking this to Bersengzeto could mean someone would never have to worry about money for the rest of their life.”
With no fishy taste, the resilient crab meat carried the essence of the sea, making Karem suddenly raise his head and ask.
“Just how much is it worth to make a lifetime claim?”
“I haven’t checked since ten years ago, but back then, in Servianus, it was traded for the same price as its weight in gold.”
The price was indeed eye-popping.
However, William, the questioner, only pouted.
“I don’t get what’s so great about this fishy stuff.”
“Didn’t you have cod, young master?”
“I can’t eat this; it smells fishy.”
“Back in the days of my previous lord, when starvation was the norm, you would have been in big trouble.”
“But grandfather isn’t here; he’s up there.”
While Viktor seemed determined to make William overcome his picky eating habits, he muttered back, “Sir Atanitas, starving was normal?”
“It’s nothing much. It hasn’t been long since all of Iceland gets by without starving. Nobles, too, were said to eat black bread during famines,”
The employer replied as he took a piece of bread dipped in the bouillabaisse broth that Mary offered.
Before the miracle of nitrogen fertilizers created food from nothing, it was common for people to starve just decades ago, and even now, the technology to feed the entire world eludes modern Earth.
Yet, this was a time vastly different from modernity.
Even the barren lands of Iceland honestly had no conditions conducive to growing crops.
Unless there were certain unique crops native to this area, like the Fire Witch Finger.
Speaking of which, half of the wheat consumption came from Adobice.
So until trade deals were executed—whether through imports, farming, or looting—people must have suffered from hunger.
However, on the way to Coldon, he didn’t recall seeing any starving people or beggars. While nowhere near lavish, there seemed to be no lack.
“That makes it a crucial contract. Tomorrow, a delegate might arrive sooner than expected, so it makes sense to rehearse once more. Just as the market mayor got to meet the lord after his rehearsal was complete.”
Catherine, chewing on the crab claws, murmured as if it were obvious.
The value of Obsidianberry functioning as a foreign port was exceedingly important.
But compared to renewing a contract with the country that fills half the bread basket of Iceland, there’s simply no contest.
Even if this place were to vanish, they could quickly shift to another port in Iceland, but any disruption with Adobice would throw Iceland into chaos.
“Anyway, young Prince William, do you think the bouillabaisse is subpar?”
“Yeah. The crab and that fishy smell are too much!”
“Then I’ll have to make something else.”
Of course, Karem wasn’t full yet.
But it felt inappropriate to sit idly when a guest was dissatisfied.
Karem immediately focused on the now-cold salmon, untouched by anyone, and began to prepare it.
At first, those watching were puzzled.
After all, it would be dry, and he was cutting only the meaty fish rather than the softer belly portion?
“I don’t like salmon because it smells, either.”
“Don’t worry. There likely won’t be any fishy smell.”
Karem received curious glances from everyone except one as he swiftly headed to the kitchen.
However, Karem didn’t have any grand culinary ambitions.
The ingredients left in the kitchen were more than enough to whip up something a kid would love.
Except for the eggs needed to make mayonnaise, which he had to ask an employee waiting in the inn’s corridor to fetch.
Karem disassembled the salmon in the bowl with a fork and added mayonnaise.
Then he chopped celery, onions, and pickles, seasoning it with pickle juice, salt, and pepper.
All he had to do was mix it all together, and he was done.
Thus, the salmon mayonnaise salad was complete.
Karem quickly understood why William was a picky eater.
After all, Karem had avoided seafood when he was around William’s age in his previous life.
The reason was the same: the smell.
While some liked that fishy scent as being from the sea, Karem’s palate had changed with age and he could finally eat it, but the seafood dishes he had enjoyed before were tuna mayo and salmon mayo.
As William initially eyed the finished salmon mayo with great suspicion, he soon lit up when he tasted it.
“There’s no fishy smell at all? It’s nutty.”
“That’s only natural.”
That was due to the onions, pepper, and mayonnaise.
Even though he had complained about the fishy smell, William wasn’t starving either, so he immediately began to shovel the bowl filled with salmon mayo toward himself.
“William, I’m curious; could I try just a little?”
“No way! You’re gonna eat most of it all over again!”
“Oh dear. You must learn to trust your family; you shouldn’t doubt.”
“It’s because of the mayonnaise, isn’t it? No way!”
While Godwin wasn’t even trying to hide his greed and William was doing his best to defend what was his, Catherine took a bite of the food Mary offered.
It was a piece of bread topped with salmon belly.
“I wondered what you could make with just the dry top of the salmon.”
“Seems the belly has less of a fishy taste, doesn’t it?”
The origin of the good or bad smell in meat typically lies in three things: coagulant blood, parts that wrap the innards, or fatty areas—it’s unavoidable.
Thus, the skin was completely avoided.
He only filleted the comparatively lean back meat and mixed it into the mayonnaise.
“There seems to be some similarities with potion-making.”
“Potions? You mean alchemy?”
“Yes. There are many animal and plant-based ingredients that dissolve in oils, though I never thought to apply it to cooking.”
That was self-evident.
Oil is the source where all the scents and flavors of the dish permeate.
He once had a bitter experience of skimming all the oil off spicy beef soup only for it to turn into a mere spicy broth.
The interrupted dinner resumed.
Although the amount of bouillabaisse was a bit lacking compared to the number of people, everyone was able to fill their bellies thanks to the leftover salmon belly grill and the basket full of bread, as all that remained in the pot were empty bowls, clams, and crab shells.
*
As Karem saw off Godwin, William, and Viktor, he returned to find Catherine sprawled lazily at the table with half-closed eyes.
Wondering if she was drowsy from a food coma, Karem spotted a piece of parchment in her hand.
“A letter, or is it work from Winterhome?”
“I’m not that busy. Can you believe the old man is finally of some help? This is a note about the schedule when the emissary from Adobice arrives.”
The first paragraph was filled with praises for Alfred, alongside sentiments about the friendship between Adobice and Iceland, places the emissary would visit, the historical ties to those places, and a jumbled schedule.
To be honest…
“It seems a bit disorganized.”
“Hmm? Most documents tend to be like this.”
“It must be hard for you to read.”
“Paperwork is usually like that. Once you get used to it, it feels familiar.”
Any document that must be read by someone must, by all means, be precise.
However, the schedule she had just read, even if it wasn’t technically a document, was filled with subjective, in other words, trivial information besides the factual schedule, and that’s how it usually was.
It was hard to comprehend completely.
Yet, Catherine interpreted it differently, rolling up the parchment and lightly tapping Karem’s head.
“If you’re sleepy, go sleep.”
“I suppose that’s for the best.”
“Right. Thanks for your hard work.”
Either way, she wasn’t wrong, so Karem washed his face lightly in the designated area of their lodging and promptly lay down on his bed.
The cook’s morning had to come sooner than others.
Considering the rehearsal for welcoming the emissary from Adobice that would follow, Karem closed his eyes immediately.