by Yu Sakurai
Next, I placed the pot over a strong flame.
The trick to making good jam is to get it boiling almost right away. This usually preserves the flavor of the strawberries and gives them a stronger scent.
This was another reason why I chose to use a copper pot. Copper is a good conductor of heat and can reach an even temperature in a short amount of time. It’s the perfect material for making jam.
“Good. Now I’ll turn the heat down…”
I carefully scooped out all the foam formed from the boiling mixture and then placed it in a bowl on its own instead of simply throwing it away. In my mind, I was imagining using the foam for something like a lightly flavored strawberry drink.
I let the mixture simmer for a while, stirring it continuously with a wooden spatula, careful not to let it burn. The more I stirred, the more glimpses I caught of the copper pot underneath the jam.
I think it’s just about ready.
I scooped out a bit of jam with the spatula and dropped it into a cup of water. The jam just sank to the bottom of the glass and showed no sign of dissolving in the water.
This test meant the jam was the perfect consistency—not too dry, but not too diluted.
I removed the pot from the flames, waited for it to cool, then poured all the jam into a glass jar. While it cooled to room temperature, I made myself busy by cleaning out the pot, when I felt someone’s eyes on my back.
“……”
Staaare.
The Gardener Cat had appeared at the kitchen door with its eyes fixed on me.
The smell of the strawberry jam must have woken it up.
I could feel its silent demands weighing on me already. “Feed me this instant!!”
This Gardener Cat didn’t appear to meow like regular cats. Instead, it preferred the quiet method of begging.
I thought I could at least pass the time by petting the cat, but once again, it made its escape before I could even touch it.
It had just fallen sound asleep in my arms, and now it wouldn’t even let me near. The heart of a cat is truly an enigma.
I stayed like that for a while, with the tiny source of pressure still locked on me, just out of reach, until it was time to continue.
Now that the jam was cool, there was no point in waiting to eat it. I reached in and scooped out a portion with my spoon. The thick heap of jam glistened under the light.
I’d always thought of strawberries as aesthetically pleasing fruit, but they were transformed into beautiful gems like little rubies as a jam.
I took my first bite. Immediately, the sour-sweet scent reached my nose.
It was thick and velvety, but I especially loved the occasional solid chunk of strawberry I encountered. I hadn’t added much sugar, so the taste was actually more refreshing than anything else. I felt like I could eat it all on its own.
“……”
Yes, it was delicious, but hard to enjoy with the constant stare coming from behind me.
“Hurry up and give me jam!” the Gardener Cat was silently begging me.
I scooped more jam from the glass jar and placed it on a small dish. I set the dish down on the floor, but the cat just stood and sniffed at the jam, making no attempt to actually eat it.
“Don’t you want to try it…?”
The cat looked up at me and started to motion with its right front paw, like it was trying to scoop up water. It kept repeating the motion, clearly trying to convey something, until it finally clicked in my mind.
“…A spoon?”
I could hardly believe it, but still, I placed the spoon down on the plate. To my shock, the Gardener Cat reached its paws out immediately.
“Whoa…!”
It managed to grip the utensil with the soles of both paws.
The Gardener Cat was now holding the spoon with perfect form.
Somehow, it even looked pleased with itself for that accomplishment.
Next, the cat happily turned the spoon toward the jam. I watched as that first spoonful disappeared into its mouth.
“Meow?!”
An adorable little sound erupted from the Gardener Cat.
I was so delighted to finally hear its first cry. The cat continued to gobble down spoonful after spoonful, appearing deeply pleased with my offering.
Little by little, the cat polished off all the jam that had been on the plate.
Once it finished licking the spoon clean of the last morsels of jam…
“Thank you for the meal.”
The cat meowed at me once more, as if to show its appreciation, then drew closer.
Wait, am I getting a reward? Is it letting me pet it?
I watched as the cat made its way over to my feet, curled up into a little ball, and immediately fell asleep. When it’s tired from growing strawberries, it takes a nap. When its belly is full of strawberry jam, it takes another nap.
This little gourmet and its adorable toe beans never held back when it came to its desires.
I picked up the Gardener Cat, still out cold in a deep sleep, and took it to the couch in my bedroom, taking a minute to stroke its soft fur along the way. Once I’d given it a brief petting, I returned to the kitchen.
It was time for the chefs to give my strawberry jam a try.
“Oh, this is good.”
“Hmm, couldn’t it be a bit sweeter?”
“I like how it’s kind of sour at the same time.”
“But this came from those fruits that look just like ‘Demon Gems’…”
“Shh! Don’t bring that up.”
“Promise you won’t talk about that. Just accept delicious food for what it is.”
“They’d actually be delicious if I didn’t know what they looked like beforehand.”
“Actually, I think I’m even starting to like the shape now.”
“Nothing’s more important than a good flavor, after all.”
“Agreed!!” came the other four voices at once.
By the sound of that, it appeared the chefs were satisfied overall with the taste of the strawberry jam. Some wanted it to be sweeter, but they might be won over simply by adding more sugar to the jam or eating it with something creamy or sweet.
After that, the last obstacle would be the shape of the strawberries themselves.
I’d eaten the jam in front of the chefs to prove that it wasn’t poisonous.
But the looks on their faces after that hadn’t been very encouraging. Now that they had tried it for themselves, though, their expressions were much more positive. This was proof that the actual flavor was satisfactory.
It seemed to be erasing their prejudice toward the shape issue as well. I would continue to tackle that obstacle by cooking even more strawberry dishes for them.
“And I need to cook up some offerings for the Gardener Cat too.”
For the sake of the Gardener Cat and for the sake of my own strawberry desires, it was a challenge I had to take on.
◇ ◇ ◇
“HEAVY…”
For the past few mornings, I’d been awakening from sleep to the sensation of a weight on my chest.
I forced my eyelids open and looked down.
“……”
A pair of light-green eyes were staring back at me.
The Gardener Cat’s gaze was fixed on me as she sat on my chest, as if to demand that I get out of bed immediately.
“Good morning, Berry.”
I’d named the Gardener Cat “Strawberry” after her favorite food but called her “Berry” as a nickname. Fifteen days had already passed since our first encounter.
I didn’t know if it was just thanks to my strawberry jam, but Berry had decided to settle down here at the villa with me.
Though she looked exactly like any other cat, this was a Mythical Beast perched on my chest.
She always seemed tired after spending her days acting like a cat, so I started inviting her into my bedroom at night. Perhaps liking the bed I had prepared for her, she began to sleep in my room eve
ry night.
I rang the bell by my bedside to summon a maid. Soon, one appeared in my room with a cup of black tea and a small bowl of strawberry jam, among other treats.
“Come here, Berry. It’s finally breakfast time.”
Once the maid left the room, I held out the bowl for Berry, and she raced over to me impatiently.
In her left paw was a small spoon she’d hidden in a corner of the room.
I’d transmuted her this perfect cat-sized little spoon earlier.
Gripping her precious tool, Berry began to dig into the strawberry jam, once again getting to enjoy her favorite treat. Cats may be carnivores, but Gardener Cats apparently preferred plant-based foods in general. They also had a few strange traits that made them resemble actual plants themselves.
First, Gardener Cats didn’t seem to produce any waste.
Their food was converted through magic, or something of the sort, never to leave their bodies as excrement.
The second trait was their need to be exposed to sunlight.
Maybe a few days without it was fine, but after a few weeks without any, the Gardener Cats were said to break down and die.
They looked just like any other cat on the outside, but I wondered if they were actually conducting photosynthesis or something like that.
Berry often took naps in front of the sunnier windows, whenever she wasn’t busy. It made her look exactly like a cat craving warm, sunny spots in the house to curl up in, so it didn’t give away her status as a Mythical Beast.
Berry finished her jam around the same time I finished my tea.
Instead of water to wash down her meal, Berry drank strawberry milk made with some remnants of the jam.
She set the cup back down carefully, then left to go to the window.
Under the light of the sun, the strawberry leaves seemed to glow with life.
Inside the flower pots that lined the windowsill were the roots of different strawberry plants.
Berry had grown these roots with her own magic.
It was possible to use a Gardener Cat’s powers to make a plant reach all the way to the fruit-bearing stage.
However, to make a plant bear fruit, Berry apparently had to use quite a lot of her energy. The most efficient use of her powers was to grow the roots to a certain point but stop a bit before the berries were formed.
Fortunately, it was the right season for strawberries, so they would grow on their own after that. Five plants here at home and around ten plants in the woods were starting to show small green fruits already.
Berry was still busy with making more strawberry plants, so our harvest would only increase with time.
“I’m looking forward to seeing them grow.”
After ten more days, the plants should bear plump red strawberries.
Excited about the prospect of the approaching strawberry festival, I dressed myself for the coming day.
I took some time to read over documents relating to the management of the villa and stamped a few papers, and then, it was time to head to the kitchen.
“Gilbert, let’s work on another chiffon cake today.”
“I’m at your service. I think we’ll finally get to see the results we’ve been waiting for.”
Gilbert nodded with more force than I was used to seeing from him.
After some planning, the two of us set out on our next chiffon cake endeavor.
Together, we were testing a few tiny adjustments to the amount of sugar and when exactly we added it. There were more parts of the process we tweaked along the way as we went.
Each change was small, but they added up into a huge transformation.
We took the cake out of its mold and it was perfectly smooth, without a single rough patch along the surface.
“How delicious…”
The chiffon cake was smooth like silk in my mouth, with a texture both light and moist.
The sweetness hadn’t been lost either. It was an elegant taste
Between the original recipe I knew from before, and the changes brought on by the different tools and ingredients in this world, the chiffon cake had been perfected.
I could even imagine our cake selling as a gourmet product if we brought it to Japan.
“We did it, Your Majesty…!!”
“We sure did. Thank you, Gilbert. This is all because of the effort you and the other chefs put in.”
He gave me a shy smile in response.
The other chefs had been watching over our efforts too, as if to bless our work.
Gilbert really was an amazing chef.
His first time ever laying eyes on a chiffon cake was only twenty days ago now, and yet he had immediately grasped its unique qualities as a cake and even how the recipe could be improved as well.
The cake was already looking much better than it had when we first started. If I were on my own, I doubt I would have ever made it this far at all.
Both Gilbert’s knack and passion for cooking were not to be underestimated.
“A chiffon cake like this will be a fitting present for the ceremony in five days, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely. With this unique texture and the sweet flavor, it will make a fine gift for His Majesty.”
It sounded like I’d earned Gilbert’s seal of approval.
In five days from now, it would be the king’s birthday.
Here in Wolfvarte, royal birthdays are celebrated with gatherings of influential people inside the main palace. On top of that, whatever birthday gift you offer is seen as a physical valuation of your own status.
And here I was, a newcomer in the kingdom.
While I wanted to give a memorable present that wouldn’t be looked down on by the guests, I didn’t want to spend too much money either, so I decided to cook something for His Majesty’s birthday instead.
Most cakes in this kingdom are the heavier kinds of desserts like pound cakes. On top of that, their shapes are typically round or rectangular. I knew that a doughnut-shaped cake with a hole in the middle would be a rare sight. It made my chiffon cake a brand-new experience, both in visuals and in texture.
I wasn’t sure if the taste itself would be to everyone’s liking, but it should make quite an impact for the other two aspects alone.
…Another reason I became so immersed in cooking lately was because I’d planned on gifting His Majesty a dish of my own making for his birthday.
Sure, it was a fun hobby, but it was nice to get something practical out of it too.
Since about 80 percent of my cooking was for my own entertainment, I felt like that much was acceptable.
I would be presenting this chiffon cake as a cocreator, along with Gilbert and the other chefs.
Hopefully, that would help boost Gilbert’s reputation, if even just a little.
Still eating the chiffon cake, I gave a deep nod at that thought.
Suddenly…
“Y-Your Majesty, this is bad!!”
One of my chefs, his face looking ghastly pale, had just rushed into the kitchen.
Chapter 6: The Birthday Party Plot
ONE of the younger chefs rushed into the room.
He wasn’t supposed to be on duty today, so the man was dressed in simple beige clothes from head to toe.
The chef took one look at the chiffon cake and froze.
“I knew it…!”
“What’s the matter? You seem quite upset.”
“I’ve just seen it! Lady Natalie went and—”
“Pardon me, Your Majesty, but a guest has arrived for you.”
Borgan, the butler, entered the kitchen at that moment.
I guess it’s just one urgent matter after another today.
Borgan was a kind and capable man, and he always respected my cooking hobby. Normally, he would always wait for me outside the kitchen if he had anything minor to discuss.
If he came straight to me for something, then it must be important.
I left the kitchen and began to ask Borgan, with his do
g ears now slumped, what was going on, when…
“Oh, there you are, Your Majesty.”
“…Diaz.”
Diaz had arrived with Giran, her head chef and one of her supporters. The woman smirked as soon as she saw me.
“Your Majesty, I know your title is in name only, but should the queen really present herself in such attire?”
I was wearing a simple dress with an apron on top and had my hair tied up so that I could cook. She was right that this wasn’t a suitable outfit for a queen, but I didn’t want to hear that from someone who had shown up in my home without invitation.
“I see your point, although I think it’s a fitting outfit in the presence of such an impolite guest. I don’t have time to entertain your sudden visit, and I still have yet to receive an apology for your previous treatment.”
“Apology? We’re the ones waiting to hear some gratitude from you, Your Majesty.”
“Oh my. What could you mean by that?”
“See for yourself.”
Giran, the chef, uncovered the serving tray in his hand.
“A chiffon cake?!”
I had seen this yellow cake before. The exterior was a little rough, but the doughnut-shaped chiffon cake was exactly like mine.
“Your Majesty! That’s it! Lady Natalie’s people have been passing around that cake! I couldn’t stand it, so I went to complain to her myself, but she wouldn’t hear me out…!” I heard the young chef run up to me from behind. “They’ve stolen your chiffon cake, my queen!!”
“Stolen? What evidence do you have of such a scandalous claim?”
“What?! Don’t be ridiculo— Your Majesty?!”
I stopped the young chef and physically put myself between him and Diaz.
I understood why he wanted to vent his anger, but in the end, this man was a commoner. Lashing out at a noblewoman like Diaz could land him some form of punishment, unfair as it may be.
“May I ask what’s going on? That cake looks identical to the one my staff and I created.”
“You’re mistaken. We invented this cake at my home, held a tea party so everyone could enjoy it for themselves, and now we’re going around gifting our neighbors with the leftovers. It’s merely a coincidence and nothing more.”
