Crunch.

The Duke picked up one of the croissants piled like a mountain on the breakfast table and took a bite.

“…!”

His eyes widened at the sensation that filled his mouth.

The outer layers shattered delicately with each crisp flake, while the inside, soaked with layer upon layer of butter, melted softly and moistly on his tongue.

The rich aroma of baked butter spread throughout his mouth.

Chocolate—

No, strawberry jam.

Yes, he needed to spread strawberry jam on it and take another bite.

The Duke hurriedly scooped up a generous amount of jam with his knife and lavishly spread it over the remaining half of the croissant.

The moment he bit into it, the sweet and tangy flavor of strawberry jam came rushing over the richness of the butter like a wave.

The way the jam seeped between the crisp layers made each bite light and sweet, leaving him wanting more.

“Grandfather, please have this as well.”

Bael pushed another plate toward him.

At once, the Duke’s eyes sparkled.

Right.

An excellent idea.

If the croissants were this good, then the rest had to be even better.

Looking at the mountain of dishes spread before him, he smiled in relief.

He had nearly filled himself up on a single item.

Slide—

The Duke pulled the remaining plates toward himself one by one.

Bread soaked in egg wash and fried in butter, towering pancakes drenched in syrup, poached eggs, and mashed potatoes.

For such a tiny child, Luciella had incredibly generous hands. The table was so covered in dishes that the white tablecloth beneath them was no longer visible.

The moment the Duke touched the poached egg with his spoon, it burst open with a pop, spilling thick golden yolk.

“Mm.”

Mixing it with the mashed potatoes, he took a bite.

The hearty flavor of the potatoes and the rich, velvety taste of the yolk danced together in harmony.

Closing his eyes tightly, the Duke slowly savored every taste and texture.

How long had it been since he had felt this happy?

Sharing breakfast with his beloved grandson alone was enough to move him deeply, but the food itself was the finest he had ever eaten.

It was not merely a matter of skill.

Taste mattered just as much.

Whenever he was invited somewhere, people would serve goose liver, shark roe, mushrooms that grew only on some remote mountain—every sort of exotic delicacy.

Yet to the Duke’s palate, they all tasted fishy.

Other nobles took pride in gourmet cuisine, insisting that meals were experiences.

But the Duke preferred simple dishes.

The kind whose flavors you could imagine just by hearing their names.

Strawberry pie.

Chocolate banana crepes.

And somehow, Luciella had understood that perfectly, filling the table with dishes that struck directly at his tastes.

“Not bad.”

The Duke spoke in his dignified voice to Luciella, who was standing nearby.

“Wow, Your Grace, you’re amazing.”

Luciella said sincerely, genuinely impressed by his appetite.

A smug smile appeared on the Duke’s face.

“Hmph.”

“Bael actually threw his spoon and refused to eat the pumpkin soup I made at first.”

“Pumpkin soup? Oh, what did it taste—”

The Duke stopped halfway and coughed.

“—I mean, this brat’s manners were terrible.”

Bael lowered his head.

“Now he doesn’t even leave a single bite for anyone else. Thanks to that, his health has recovered.”

Cain added from the side.

For some reason, his voice carried a trace of grievance.

“I had a feeling Your Grace would enjoy it as well.”

“When did I ever say that?”

The Duke replied while taking a large bite out of a buttered scone.

“This brat insisted on treating me to a meal, so I am merely granting his request.”

His indifferent words and the speed at which his fork attacked the food seemed to convey two entirely different messages.

“She saved Bael, did she not? I simply wished to see her skills for myself.”

“Indeed, Your Grace. Then what is your verdict…?”

Cain, Bael, and Luciella all turned their eyes toward the Duke.

He cleared his throat and carefully wiped the corner of his mouth.

“Still too soon.”

“Huh? You just ate enough food for four grown men by yourself…”

“That is not what I mean.”

The Duke spoke stubbornly.

“The dessert has not arrived yet.”

“Bring out the promised fondant au chocolat.”

“Only then will I decide whether to throw her out or not.”

“……”

“Hurry.”

Ten minutes later, the Duke finally set down his spoon, his body trembling with emotion.

The fondant au chocolat had been magnificent.

At this point, it almost felt inevitable.

It looked perfectly ordinary, and yet the moment he cut into it, thick and rich chocolate poured out like lava from the center.

When he was a child and his mother baked cakes for him, he had always wanted to taste the dense batter before it went into the oven.

It felt as though, only now, at his age, had that wish finally been fulfilled.

After finishing the meal, the Duke solemnly wiped away the bread crumbs and chocolate stains around his mouth.

“Your name is Luciella, was it?”

“Yes.”

“…I will not extend your employment.”

“What?”

All three of them cried out at once.

“Grandfather, what do you mean—?”

“The previous agreement is void.”

“Let us draft a new contract.”

Luciella’s eyes grew round.

The Duke continued.

“One that can only be altered by my direct decision.”

“Those worthless children of mine will not be able to tamper with it.”

“Huh?”

Once again, all three cried out together.

Only this time, their voices had changed from shock to hope.

“How does one hundred gold sound?”

The Duke asked seriously.

“O-one hundred gold a year?”

Luciella’s eyes nearly popped out.

An annual salary of one hundred gold.

It was the amount she had dreamed of earning since childhood.

Back in the village where she had grown up, only three people made that much money.

And all three of them had strutted around so arrogantly it was infuriating.

Luciella had always wanted to strut around like that too.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

The Duke snorted.

“If I offered only one hundred gold a year, the Ervan family, the Marquis of Seladin, or even the Imperial Family would poach you immediately.”

“And you would happily follow them with that silly grin on your face, wouldn’t you?”

“Th-then…”

“One hundred gold a month.”

“I will pay in advance.”

Luciella was too shocked to speak.

She could not even comprehend what one hundred gold a month truly meant.

She had expected to earn the Duke’s recognition.

But this result far exceeded anything she had imagined.

Taking her stunned silence as acceptance, the Duke summoned the butler and ordered him to prepare the contract.

After signing her name nearly ten times on the thick stack of documents, Luciella stared blankly at the contract in her hands for quite some time.

Exclusive Chef Employment Contract of the House of Bellaon

• Monthly salary: 100 gold, paid in advance on the first day of every month.
• A minimum of eight days of leave per month guaranteed.
• Year-end bonuses shall be negotiated separately. However, payment shall only be authorized with the signature of the 13th Duke of Bellaon. (Should the employee prepare a special meal for the Duke once a month, the matter shall be viewed very favorably.)
• Termination of employment may only be executed through a document bearing the Duke’s seal. No third party, including direct descendants or collateral branches of the ducal family, may alter or invalidate this contract at their own discretion.
• Duration: The next fifty years.

Mother…

Luciella murmured inwardly.

I think I did it.

I secured both the high salary and the job security you emphasized so many times.

And just like you advised, I even made sure to get a good work-life balance.

Am I not incredibly smart?

That night, Luciella fell asleep clutching the advance payment of gold tightly in both hands.

It would only be many years later that she realized the cunning Duke of Bellaon had hidden a trap within the contract—

One that ensured that even if she wanted to resign, she would never be able to