The Black Iron Glory
You have to be a chef

Chapter 95

You have to be a chef

"Good morning, Madam."

"You're late, Claude," Mary answered a second later, putting down her book.

Claude did not meet his gaze. It was not even nine yet, his father had taken him to the foot of the hill, but he still had to walk on it. . .

"You're wasting your time like this. Stay tonight. Rodan will prepare the room. Don't worry, I'll tell your father," said Maria; again in a decided voice.

"I did whatever Milady said."

Claude had spoken at length with his father in the study about the baroness' background and decided that it was best to do what he said. After all, it was only for ten days. He faced much worse before.

"good. Remove rifle. You and I know you're not here to shoot a pig. You'll be my assistant. Come on; change this."

The clothes look like doctor robes. But it's gray, and it's made of linen.

Maria started handing out orders as soon as they set foot in the lab.

"Cut off all unnecessary parts. With Magus' Hands and Fine Control, of course. Then separate the bone scales from the skin underneath."

"Understand, Madam."

Rodan brought tea and snacks an hour after they started.

The baroness sat down, very gracefully, enjoying her tea as she observed her newest servant, and the youngest, working on the crocodile at her price. One might be forgiven for thinking the two were just sitting, meditating, if not for the crocodile skin, which was split and folded as if touched by an invisible hand.

The morning ended in sweat and hot tea with a third of the work done.

"It's lunch time" Maria announced suddenly with a clap of her hand, "Then take a short nap before we go back to work. You can sleep or read. The food is good, by the way. You got a versatile set from your hand, maybe I should turn it into parchment – "he smiled mischievously. "–You'll take care of dinner tonight, won't you?" his face said it wasn't a question. "–Just tell Rodan what you need."

Claude smiled bitterly, but not without proper obedience.

"As far as you are, Milady."

Damn it's his dad! It's all his fault! All he had to do was agree to his request. He didn't have to make her stay for dinner and then make Claude prepare the food! At first he only offers dinner, but the baroness refuses and in her desperation to keep him, she says that Claude is a great chef and he will be the one to prepare the dinner.

His inferior interest is shaken and his father vows to hell and returns to make the best meal he has ever made. Now he's not only a boar hunter, but also the head chef!

He didn't think he might give him such a promotion at that time, otherwise he wouldn't have put in so much effort. But he did not, so he had prepared eight dishes of the best dishes he remembered and could make with what was at hand. Everything felt a bit strange to him, as many of the materials used on earth were not here, or it felt different, but the baroness did not know that, and she was more than impressed.

He had never eaten a plate of what was served that night, even in the biggest restaurant in the capital. He had to fight for his saliva not to flow down from his mouth, while not swallowing too clearly. After all, he had to maintain his dignity. He arranges that, what he does not manage, is to stick to the female portion. He ate until he felt full.

Morssen, once an ambitious man, soon begins to wonder if he should change his plans for his second son and have him serve as a baron chef rather than send him to his godfather.

Claude knew as he looked at the look of sadness on Maria's face as he swallowed the last bite of the dessert he wanted. And now it's coming. His mind returned to the conversation his father had in the study after they saw the baron leave.

"Isn't he just a baroness?" she asked.

"Who do you think Lady Maria is? Baroness or not, she's Fen Normanley! He has, if not the king's ear, then his advisor. His words were more precious to the king than the entire Council of Lords!"

The rest of the night, what was left at the time, was spent in research listening to his father recount the history of House Fen Normanley, with some substantial sidetracks about how Claude Habis' grandfather had made the biggest mistake of his life not to continue serving in the military because he could also be in the Normanleys position.

As it turns out, the founder of the house was born the son of a cobbler, in Whitestag, no less. Afess Normanley took over her father's trade and became a cobbler herself. He joined the forces of Stellin IX like Claude's grandfather, but, unlike Claude's grandfather, he remained afloat after the city was captured. He served the future king faithfully for the whole war and behaved honorably, which won the king's respect and trust. At the end of the war he was awarded a rural barony outside the Whitestag, and became a descendant of Baron Fen Normanley.

While all the twenty survivors of the city who fought for the king were made nobles, only Afess was granted the land, and thus became a hereditary noble. Indeed, the special award was thanks three times Afess saved the king's life. The king wanted to make him a viscount and give him his own Whitestag, but his low birth made it difficult, as no noble vassals of the king agreed. Afess is an ordinary birth, and they will never be satisfied with her more than either of them. He could only be made as a noble lowest tier.

Baroness Maria Fen Normanley was the daughter of Baron Afess Fen Normanley, and one of Stellin X's closest friends, second only to her brother, who was captain of the royal guard under her husband, Stellin X, Viscount Kartoff, who succeeded his father as Captain of the Guards, made him a general, regardless of his position. In reality, he was a viscountess, though, but tradition refers to a noblewoman with her birth title rather than the title she holds due to – marriage because she is not in the line of succession for the title held by – marriage unless she has there is no birth title.

He did not mind at all, because his brother had been made a viscount by the king, given his own viscounty, and had decided to leave the barony of their father, and his title, to his sister. She preferred to be known as a baroness in her own right, rather than a viscountess blessing only for her marriage to her husband.

Then there was also his fame as a middle-class apothecary and a de facto apothecary, if not a de jure, royal apothecary. Even the prime minister did not dare to go through it.

The baroness has always been humble in public, despite her great power and influence, and she has obviously never been involved in politics. He didn't even do the favors. His only interest, it seems, was his study of herbal medicine.

His father planted wood in their land. However, neither her father, her brother, nor him, came here often. They largely ruled in the absence of the capital, leaving the land for their butlers. They don't come to town, or interact with anyone when it comes to a short visit, so few know when they're coming home. Getting his help was extremely difficult, but doing so would open most doors in the kingdom in one fell swoop. This opportunity Claude gave was extremely rare, and even far more precious. If he succeeds, he will have little difficulty rising to the top of whatever career he chooses. However, if he were to pass through it, he would not succeed, no matter how diligent, diligent, or talented he was. And no amount of network, no support, can help him if that happens. He has to take this seriously.

Morssen was happy and also scared. If his son succeeds, his family will be hereditary. If she failed, it was over for them, no matter what the other children would achieve, in fact, it was over, everyone was convinced that they would accomplish nothing if Claude made the baroness angry. Most importantly, one needed a strong backer if he were to pursue the title of nobility. Merit is not enough. In the absence of war, it was a multi-generational effort to build up support with the nobility that was necessary to become comrades, but if they could get the baroness on their side, it was the baroness, a few good words will suffice.

Claude shivered as the reality of the situation, both potential and danger, settled. His back was drenched in cold sweat when he thought of how he thought of killing him. If he succeeds, he will have the entire kingdom, not to mention the king, personally, after him. And he did not doubt the king would not rest until he died, even if he had to chase him to Nubissia and return.

The only option is obedience. So, she returned to work that afternoon without a buzz or complaint, and served the best dinner she could that evening.

"Alright, now that the silt is free of the slab, it's time to clean the inside," said the baroness the next morning, "Do it with the Magus' Fine Hands and Control like yesterday."

"If you may, Milady. Why not use the Magus Hand and hold the real knife? Why use Smooth Control to turn my manifest into a knife? It used far more Mana."

"Crocodile skin is damaged by contact with physical objects, especially metal. We will only get the best quality if we only use mana. My best choice to know is wooden slats made of bamboo. You don't have to use a physical knife, however, and you shouldn't. "

"Understand, Madam."

"Also, I'll have more of that – fried noodles, right? – tonight too."

"As far as you are, Milady."

The second day went like the first day.

"Alright, now split the skin into two pages. Put them in this solution -" He pointed to the prepared bucket at the nearest table. "–and soak it for a day. Then hang them dry. No physical tools, okay?"

"Understand, Milady. What's the solution, if I may ask, Milady?"

"This is called skystar solution. The book" He stuck his finger into a book at the end of the table. "- describe it. You can read it later. Just know it's used to heal the skin, which makes it more resistant to wear than use and more efficient at doing mana."

"so. Thank you, Madam."

"good. But actions speak louder than words. Thanks for a nice dinner."

"I will, Milady."

Then comes the fourth day.

"We had nothing to do today. The sheets are still drying, so go hunting a little. I'd like a fried liver for dinner, the same way you made it last time. I don't believe that things are edible, much less tasty. And you say the heart is good for sight? Hmm .. I have struggled with my eyes for a few years now. "

"If I dare, Milady, you just sit there watching me every day."

"That's right," said the baroness as if it should have told her everything she needed to know.

"Am I your assistant or chef, Milady?"

"All right, I'll be honest, Claude. You should not waste time with magic or herbal medicines. You're much better as a chef. With your expertise I have no doubt you can become a Royal Chef just in time, with some recommendations from myself – "

"Mrs!"

"A joke! A joke! By the way. We're wasting time. Go!"