Impossible, no way, I can’t.
Back at the manor in the domain capital, I gave my report to my parents.
"Every time, you always manage to find something new.”
"Truly. It’s such a waste that so many good things had been buried until now—and I feel sorry for the people of the domain too.”
"Mother, this sort of discovery is supposed to be the merchants’ job, originally."
"The exhibition turned out to be a great opportunity. Anything that raises the standard of the domain is a good thing.”
"But it’s a shame that the top winners can no longer live in their own towns.”
"Mother, this is just speculation, but I believe it’s because they’re planning an exhibition in the royal capital.”
"What do you mean, Chris?”
"There’s a high chance the merchants from outside the domain came here either through commissions or in anticipation of the royal capital exhibition. So the top winners in towns with inns are likely being flooded with recruitment offers," Brother Chris replied.
"So, they want to steal recipes from proven craftsmen as a shortcut to making a name for themselves?"
"Most likely."
They probably don’t realize the royal family and the upper echelons of the kingdom have been eating dishes from the Westland Exhibition… Normally, nobles wouldn’t eat something like that, so they must think they can get away with it.
"Since it’s causing trouble for the towns, I’d like to move to the new city soon. How’s construction going?"
"They’ve started with the buildings for the builders themselves and the plaza. It’ll still take some time.”
"Aren’t there quite a lot of those worker buildings?"
Apparently, many of the workers wanted to bring their families and settle there permanently, so houses big enough for families were being built.
"Then how about letting the townspeople live temporarily in those houses?"
"They can’t serve new dishes yet, but since many of them run eateries, we could have them cook for the construction workers."
At dinner, they served steamed vegetables and steamed orc meat with Chinese cabbage from the new city, using both the vegetables from Bambus Village and those prepared at the manor.
"The taste is completely different. The vegetables from Bambus Village—who knew vegetables could be this sweet?"
"So you plan to use Bambus Village vegetables for the steamed dishes in the new city?"
"Yes. I also brought back some of the fertilizer they use, to see if we can grow vegetables around the new city.”
"We’ll need to start recruiting farmers soon, or we won’t make it in time for the spring planting," Grandfather noted.
Grandfather, I’m counting on you—there’s no way I can handle all this myself.
It looked like construction in the new city would now prioritize homes for the residents.
After the meal, we moved on to tea time.
We served matcha lattes—both hot and cold.
The cold ones were served in glass cups, and the contrast between the green of the matcha and the white milk foam made them visually striking.
The head chef had even managed to prepare cold matcha lattes in such a short time. I couldn’t help but admire the skill level of our household’s cooks.
"Hardt, was the cold matcha latte your idea?"
"Brother Chris, I didn’t give any instructions.”
"Then it was the cooks. They came up with it in no time. It’s pleasing to look at, and perfect for summer.”
"They’ve made the matcha milk even better. I wonder how they created this foam," Grandmother mused.
"Hardt had the man he summoned at the exhibition make it," Father said.
"Hardt, show me how it’s done.”
Since Mother asked, I was about to ask someone to fetch a whisk when Georges appeared, pushing a cart with a pot, bowl, and whisk already on it.
Ever prepared, that man.
Georges set them on the table, and I poured in hot milk, then whisked it briskly to make foam.
Mother and Grandmother watched with fascination.
"Oh my, it really turned into foam!"
"I want to try it too.”
She tried, but it didn’t foam.
"Mother, you have to whisk just the surface of the milk.”
This time, it foamed.
"So there’s a trick to it."
"I’d love to use this for a tea party, but we can’t use glass cups in winter…"
Then both Mother and Grandmother looked straight at me.
No way. Absolutely not.
I don’t even know what materials are used to make heat-resistant glass.
"It’s impossible. I don’t know how to make heat-resistant glass.”
"‘Heat-resistant glass?’"
"Hardt, what exactly is heat-resistant glass?" Father asked.
"Just what it sounds like—a type of glass that doesn’t crack when you pour boiling water into it."
"… So, in other words, it could be made if one knew how?"
"I said I don’t know the materials. It’s impossible."
"Maybe we can ask Carlos.”
"Isn’t Carlos busy with those glass paintings—the pseudo-stained glass pieces?"
"The ones for the chapel in the manor have already been delivered and installed. The way the sunlight reflects off them is beautiful. It’ll probably become a highlight of the new city.”
Carlos, I’m so sorry.
Looks like you’re about to get even busier.
What do you think about this chapter?
