The following day brought an unexpected surprise.
I awoke, my mind still muddled with sleep, and shuffled into the kitchen as usual, retrieving the prepped dough from storage. But then, the sound of the front door creaking open caught my attention, followed by a soft murmur.
Stepping outside to investigate, I couldn’t help but exclaim in astonishment.
There, in the living room, stood a stand mixer.
While it wasn’t quite as sophisticated as the electric ones back in Seoul, it closely resembled the blueprint that Bike had sketched out earlier, albeit ten times larger.
Bike stood beside it, wearing a proud grin.
“If you step on this pedal here, it spins,” he explained.
The motor of the mixer was simply a bicycle pedal.
As I sat in a chair-like contraption, teasing the pedals with my feet, the kneading apparatus whirled around inside the bowl.
The bucket within was sturdy and capacious, capable of handling up to five kilograms of ingredients or more.
I couldn’t help but applaud, in awe of his invention.
“Where did you get all the materials to make this?” I asked.
“I can find anything. I am the key material, here,” Bike replied confidently.
“That’s incredible!”
“Miss, you need not exert too much. I’ve added another element to give it extra energy,” he whispered to me, as if sharing a secret.
I knew exactly what that element was.
He always carried with him a gemstone powder imbued with mana.
It was an exceedingly rare substance, and according to the original novel I’d read, it would have been a challenging feat to acquire, too.
Yet, here he was, willingly incorporating this precious powder to perfect my stand mixer.
‘Wow…’
My chest swelled with joy, standing next to his machine.
I hugged it affectionately, cheering aloud.
“You’re amazing! The best!
“Thank you! If it pleases you, Miss, it pleases me!”
Perhaps because of the noise we’d generated together, both David and the crown prince emerged simultaneously.
David shook his head incredulously as Bike and I hugged each other in celebration.
Meanwhile, the crown prince stood stoically in the living room, scrutinizing the machine.
“Did you really manage to build the design you drew yesterday in just one day?” he inquired.
“Of course. I stayed up all night, so that I could construct something of which Miss Irene would approve. And it’s not too shabby, I don’t think,” Bike replied.
“You’re not bad.”
“Like I’ve mentioned before, I’m a genius. If it were anyone else attempting this, replicating the design would realistically take over a month.”
“I’ll teach you how to fight.”
“I’d rather learn from Miss Irene.”
“You’re weak. You need to build your stamina. Just like Irene does.”
The crown prince’s tone was grave, his gaze shifting from the mixer to Bike, and then to me.
He seemed to be appraising us, scanning over our very beings.
His scrutiny unnerved me for some reason I couldn’t quite explain.
It felt as if he might pull out a whistle, and start yelling like a drill instructor would.
A shiver ran down my spine.
“I’m perfectly strong and healthy!” I protested.
“Starting next week, you both will undergo training. Wake up at five in the morning,” he declared, his expression stern.
“W-What? I go to bed at 5 a.m.! I’ve been awake all night!”
With that, the crown prince pivoted on his heel and strode away.
I instructed David to relocate the stand mixer to the bakery’s kitchen
He begrudgingly complied.
As I followed him into the kitchen, I began to imagine assembling even more machinery.
With the prospect of mass production looming on the horizon, I felt a surge of energy coursing through me.
I realized that I could now actively promote the bakery. Previously overwhelmed with the burden of churning out batch by batch of fully handmade goods, I now had the means to supply the demand in only a fraction of the time.
We’d finally eliminated the obstacle delaying our marketing efforts.
‘David…’
I looked at him, a glimmer of hope sparkling in my eyes.
He sighed, seemingly unconsciously resigning to his fate as my promotional partner.
‘Finally, your time to shine has come…’
David, with his affable and amiable boy-next-door demeanor, possessed boundless potential.
Oh, the clientele he could attract… the patrons he could entertain…
‘Hmm… And come to think of it, Bike isn’t half bad either…’
Didn’t he mention having attended an aristocratic academy of some sort?
Despite his playful nature, he exuded a certain elegance, keeping his formal speech short and sweet.
Though, there was a part of me that felt compelled to protect him, sensing a vulnerability beneath his bravado.
As I envisioned his potential target clientele, students clad in school uniforms and ladies adorned in gorgeous dresses, a faint smile tugged at my lips.
* * *
Later that morning, Patty paid a visit to the bakery.
She produced a bottle of wine, elegantly wrapped in a pristine paper, from the bag she carried. It appeared to be quite pricey.
“Mrs. Susan intends to enjoy this wine with dinner today. Please prepare a suitable dessert,” she instructed.
“May I unwrap it?” I inquired.
“Indeed. It’s a gift from her. She’s also arranged another bottle for a separate dessert,” Patty confirmed.
True to form, Mrs. Susan was one to spare no expense when it came to indulging in life’s pleasures.
I couldn’t believe she’d gifted me an entire bottle of wine just to pair with one dessert for her.
A satisfied grin crept across my face.
After Patty had conveyed her message, she took her leave.
As David emerged from the bathroom, his eyes widened at the sight of the wine.
“Is this from Miss Rosie’s maid? Wow, this is a fifty-year-old vintage. Is she really giving this to us as a gift?”
“Is it expensive?” I asked.
“Expensive doesn’t even begin to describe it! I couldn’t even dream of affording it. Are we drinking it now?”
“We should taste it. It’ll inspire a dessert.”
I emerged from the kitchen, three small cups in hand.
I handed the cups out to David and the crown prince, though, the prince declined with a shake of his head.
“I don’t drink,” he stated.
“Why not? We’ve finished all our deliveries for the day. We can enjoy it at Rosie’s. And just a little bit won’t hurt,” I reasoned.
“Yes, Joseph. You should have some. When else will we get the chance?” David chimed in.
“It’s alright. You two enjoy it.” the crown prince replied.
David regarded him with a skeptical gaze, a smirk playing on his lips.
“So… Can’t handle your drink?”
“…It’s not that.”
“Come on… If you’re not interested, then I’ll gladly take your share,” David teased.
“That’s a shame. I hear it’s quite a rare find,” I added.
“That’s enough, Irene. You didn’t even know how special it was a moment ago. Just have a glass of milk!”
David clenched his fists at the crown prince’s words, barely containing his frustration.
The tension between them was palpable, their unspoken rivalry simmering beneath the surface.
Undeterred, I poured the wine into our glasses, its aroma wafting gently through the air.
David’s eyes refused to stray from the crown prince until I filled his cup.
Then, in a surprising turn of events, the crown prince swiftly downed David’s glass in one gulp.
Caught off guard, David watched in disbelief as the crown prince finished off the wine intended for him.
“Hey, hey! If you wanted some, you should have said so! Why drink mine?” David exclaimed.
“I assumed you wouldn’t want it. So, I took the liberty,” the crown prince replied nonchalantly.
“What? Why wouldn’t I want it? This is precisely the reason why I’m even trying to make a living!”
“Do you even know who sent us this wine?”
“What are you talking about? Lady Rosie sent it, for Irene to prepare a complementary dessert.”
“No, it’s from the person trying to take Irene away from us.”
“W-What? Is that true?” David turned to me, his expression one of bewilderment.
I nodded in confirmation. David ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“You fuss over Irene like a child, yet you don’t hesitate to drink the wine sent to bribe her into leaving us? And yesterday, you swore off anything to do with her.”
“…I swore off anything to do with that witch…”
David muttered, his voice trailing off.
“Is a fifty-year-old wine made from some rare northern grapes really more valuable than Irene, who you treat like your very own sister?”
“…I won’t drink it. Damn it,” David declared, sinking into the sofa with a scowl.
I refilled his glass nonetheless. Unlike the crown prince, David’s attention remained fixed solely on the wine in my hand.
Handing him the freshly poured wine, I gestured to implore him to partake.
“Will this change anything?” he asked, his tone resigned.
“…It’s not for me to decide,” I replied.
“I won’t drink it! If I do, I know I’ll regret it later!”
David stormed out.
“In that case, I’ll have it,” the crown prince said.
“Your face is already flushed,” I remarked.
“…The sun was rather strong today,” he quipped.
Despite his increasingly flushed complexion, the crown prince showed no signs of slowing down the rate at which he consumed the wine.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he was alright. To make sure I could watch over him, I limited myself to just a small sip.
The flavor was subtle yet bold in a way, with a dry finish.
Since the taste of the wine wasn’t too sweet, I thought that perhaps the accompanying dessert would be well served to have a stronger flavor.
‘Last time I made her something cheesy… This time I’ll go for something with cream.’
I decided on custard cream puffs.
Although our supplies were running low, Bike’s stand mixer made quick work of the dough.
“Joseph, lend me a hand,” I requested.
Joseph stumbled into the kitchen and seated himself in the chair attached to the mixer. Heat radiated out from his body, his face flushed from the exertion.
‘Can he manage this?’ I worried.
His condition seemed to deteriorate by the minute, leaving me increasingly concerned.
“Joseph, are you alright?” I inquired.
“How presumptuous… Who’s Joseph? Where did you come up with such nonsense?”
“Are you drunk?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Joseph… What an insignificant name… What’s the point of being called Joseph?”
He rambled on.
“Can you sit here and pedal? If not, you should go to sleep.”
“There’s nothing I can’t do,”
He began to pedal with all his might.
The kneading apparatus spun rapidly within the bowl, propelled by his fervent efforts.
He measured out flour as quickly as he peddled and added it to the bowl.
At this rate, I estimated the dough could be ready in only ten minutes.
“Alright, now pedal about a hundred times. I’ll prepare the cream.”
“A hundred times? No. I can do a thousand.”
“No, you’ll overwork the dough and ruin it.”
“A thousand times? No. I can even do ten thousand.”
“But then the dough will be ruined!”
“Everything is already ruined,” he muttered.
‘Oh dear…’
It was clear he’d drunk a little too much. I couldn’t help but check on the dough periodically as I made the cream.
Fortunately, his drunken fervor didn’t last long.
He soon grew weary, his energy waning as the dough neared completion.
Drenched in sweat, and his complexion less flushed than before, he appeared somewhat sobered.
However, a sickly pallor had replaced his earlier vigor.
I ran to grab blankets from the storeroom and laid them out in the hallway leading to the kitchen.
Turning to Joseph, still seated by the kneading machine, I urged him to rest.
“Joseph, get up. You’ll be more comfortable lying over there,” I directed.
“I… I must win… My father… My father…”
He continued mumbling to himself, his drunkenness showing no signs of abating.
“Alright, let’s get you up,” I said, supporting him as I led him to the hallway.
Thankfully, he didn’t resist, waiting until we’d reached our destination to collapse onto the blankets in a heap.
‘Maybe he should avoid alcohol in the future…’
How could someone so large be so easily overcome by a few drinks?
Then, I realized why exactly the crown prince had so desperately avoided social gatherings during the plot of the original novel.
‘Well… Everyone has their flaws.’
I covered him with a blanket, just watching him as he lay there with his eyes closed.
Long lashes, a prominent nose, and lips tinted red from the wine. The color was harmonic in combination with the redness of his hair.
Yet, beneath that serene face laid so many scars, marring his otherwise flawless exterior.
I pulled the blanket up to his chin, and he slowly opened his eyes.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
“Irene… Come here…” he murmured, his voice laden with vulnerability.
*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･:.｡..｡.:･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*
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