### Chapter 19: Family Feast (Continued)
Unfortunately, she didn’t notice my little antics under the table. Her suspicious gaze lingered on our faces for a moment before she couldn’t find any clues. Seeing that Her Majesty the Queen had no intention of explaining, she could only say to me, “Pepé, just sit there and don’t mess around; just eat your doughnuts.”
That tone was just like the usual scoldings I received at the dining table in Shanter Castle.
“…Oh.”
I could only respond sullenly.
I grabbed a doughnut pinched by Captain Gray and scanned the table. It seemed everyone was present. Everyone looked quite cheerful, except for Tarlasya at the end of the table who remained silent… Hmm, Aunt Bella was still a no-show.
So—
“Where’s Uncle Pagos?”
I noticed that the usually drunken giant from the workshop was missing. Since my mother was still watching me, I asked to divert her attention.
“Oh, your Uncle Pagos, ha ha.”
Dad was chatting with Annie and, upon hearing that, chuckled: “Any feast with alcohol is bound to scare him away; he’s too much trouble.”
Then he turned to explain to Viki: “Pepé is talking about our finest blacksmith from the central workshop. He’s great at everything, except he’s as addicted to booze as a fish to water. If he were here tonight, we’d all be done under the table…”
Viki nodded at this.
After a brief conversation, the snow wine was served, and Hoover’s eyes lit up. Excitedly, he shouted that drinking from a bowl would be the true flavor; ideally, he wanted to chug straight from the barrel. The equally spirited “Fake Viki” raised both hands in agreement. It seemed everyone was familiar with her now, except me.
However, though the snow wine barrel wasn’t large, chugging it all at once would likely knock anyone out cold. Even Pagos wouldn’t dare to drink like that. My mother, annoyed, stopped him with a few words, saying that Her Majesty was still present, and it would be highly inappropriate. Hoover reluctantly abandoned his idea.
The maids were pouring wine for everyone. During that time, Dad asked about my “attendant,” the always-silent Sword Demon Miss. He wondered if they should call her over to eat something, as she had saved his life—not that I’d been able to voice my gratitude while on the road, but the Empire should reward her with honors and medals. We could talk about what she wanted tonight. However, I declined.
Ever since the war ended, I’d let the Sword Demon Miss roam free. She said she wanted to see what was happening in the city. I guessed she was looking for those heretics exiled from town, perhaps to ask about my mother.
She mentioned wanting to figure out who was behind all this, and I had thought it was that old man Anseier, but it seemed that wasn’t the case.
Anyway, where she was now, I had no idea. It would have been easy to summon her by firing a flashy ice ball into the sky, but I knew the Sword Demon didn’t enjoy bustling places with many people. She wasn’t interested in chatting with Viki or Dad; she preferred simple and direct orders.
“The medal can be skipped; she probably wouldn’t care about titles and lands,” I mused. “Dad could find her a place to settle in Winter City… she no longer has a home, and now she doesn’t even have family.”
“Wouldn’t that be too simple?”
“She doesn’t like complexity. She’s a very straightforward person.”
Dad nodded, acknowledging my thoughts.
Once the wine was poured, the servants stepped aside. Everyone, except me, had a glass of snow wine in front of them, with its rich aroma wafting in the air—a smell that promised a strong kick.
“Cheers to our great victory!”
Dad raised his glass, and everyone followed suit, including me. However, I was only raising a glass of mostly water with a splash of wine—about eighty percent water and maybe twenty percent wine. That was pretty much my limit. I hadn’t planned to drink, but everyone seemed to feel that we ought to toast on such a night, and even Dad thought so. Mom didn’t stop it either.
“To our sacrificed warriors, to the history we’ve created, to our people, to freedom, to the friendship between the Empire and the Kingdom in times of hardship! To our homelands, may we face storms unafraid, sail together, and forge ahead. Down this drink!”
“Hee hee, down this drink!”
At Dad’s toast, accompanied by an excited cheer from “Fake Viki,” everyone downed their shot. I followed suit, feeling guilty for not sharing, so I downed my diluted wine in one go just as “Fake Viki” began to cough violently.
“Cough, cough… Wow, wow, wow… What is this? Do Northerners really drink this spicy water? Cough…”
I set down my glass and turned to see tears streaming down her face.
“Ah ha ha!”
Hoover erupted into laughter: “No wonder Her Majesty the Queen didn’t let you drink, Princess Aiyarela! You’re just like Pepé; her first taste of snow wine was exactly like yours, and she was only fourteen then.”
?
Why drag me into this?
“This wine…”
On the other side, Viki set down her glass, frowning as it went down her throat—her enchanting profile visibly flushed with a hint of redness.
She wasn’t used to this…
Ha.
“Pepé, you little rascal, why did you chug it down all at once?”
Mom began to chastise me, but Dad interrupted her with a wave of his hand: “It’s fine, it’s fine! Tonight’s worth a little celebration; it’s rare to see the child happy. Let her be…”
“Exactly!”
Uncle Hoover seemed to be joining in: “Another drink! I see Pepé’s been building her alcohol tolerance! Here’s to you, for your contributions to the Northern Army!”
As he said this, he poured himself another glass of snow wine, rising to clink glasses with me. His b*tt barely left the seat when Annie yanked him back, tugging at his armor: “Shut up! We haven’t eaten yet…”
“No, no! I need something to go with this—it’s too strong!” Fake Viki was wiping her tears with a silk handkerchief, still coughing. “I can’t handle it…”
“Let’s eat, let’s eat! It’s a relaxed evening; it’s not formal, so everyone just relax,” Dad said while picking up his kn*fe and fork.
Upon seeing this, everyone else started to dig in. I bit into my doughnut while glancing at “Fake Viki,” who was cramming a huge chunk of meat into her mouth. It seemed she was overcome by the spiciness; her table manners were anything but royal. Even during her first meal with the new emperor of the Empire, she seemed entirely unfazed, letting juices run down the corners of her mouth which she scooped up with her hands.
In contrast, Viki picked up her soup spoon, ladled half a spoon of soup, and only leaned down to sip quietly, barely making a sound while drinking.
“What a unique flavor.”
After tasting a bit, her gaze turned to Mom, genuinely complimenting her: “The fragrance is fresh, the texture glides down your throat like soft silk. The spiciness of the wine dissipates instantly. Lady Catherine, being royal, I didn’t expect you to have such skills.”
“It’s just ordinary winter mushroom soup,” Mom said, looking a bit pleased while still being modest. “Northerners love to drink it to soothe their throats.”
Mom’s smile brightened, despite her words of humility. “The ingredients are straightforward; it just requires careful timing when simmering. I added my own blend of spices, so compared to the exquisite delicacies served at the palace, I fear I might have embarrassed myself.”
“I’ve never tasted something like this before.”
Viki shook her head lightly and took another sip of the soup: “The imperial chefs can’t replicate this; you’re far too humble.”
“As long as the Queen enjoys it, would you like to try something else?”
“Sure.”
So, Mom began to introduce each dish she had prepared for Her Majesty. Upon hearing the soup was soothing, Fake Viki quickly scooped a big spoonful and started slurping it down loudly. Dad and Annie were also busy eating, while across the table, Hoover was tearing into a large poultry leg, taking a few bites before immediately wanting more wine, so he began buddying up to Tarlasya.
“Pope Knight, here’s to you! If it weren’t for you in Baihao City, we’d have been in big trouble!”
Tarlasya raised his glass and clinked it with Hoover’s: “The one who saved us was Miss Silvya; I merely lent a hand…”
In the meantime, I finished off four Captain Grays and was working on my fifth.
Mom’s Captain Gray was still tastier than the ones I made myself. They were way better than the ones “Fake Viki” had made for me in Baihao City. The chefs at Ethanbel didn’t seem very good at making desserts, even the royal cooks who accompanied Viki couldn’t compare to Mom’s cooking.
Or perhaps…
It was just because I hadn’t had this in so long.
Captain Gray…
Is still my favorite…
That’s something that probably won’t ever change…
Ah.
Wait?
As I kept eating, I suddenly stopped.
I had just downed that whole glass of wine…
Although it was watered down, it was still wine. Given how fast I drank it, I should be feeling a bit tipsy by now, right?
I furrowed my brows and glanced at my empty wine glass.
Yep, I really downed it all…
I wasn’t feeling a single bit tipsy?
Is this even logical??
“What are you thinking about, Pepé?”
Out of the blue, Mom, who had been watching me closely, asked: “What’s wrong? Is the dessert not to your liking? Your brows are knitted together…”
She seemed a bit insecure about it, standing up to grab a doughnut, tearing off a small piece to pop into her mouth for a taste. She sighed in relief and said, “Isn’t this quite good?”
That expression of hers seemed to carry a hint of tension.
Then it hit me…
Mom probably hasn’t done this in a long time.
Once culinary skills fade away, picking them up again isn’t easy. This big platter of Captain Grays was nearly indistinguishable from what I remembered… Mom must have put in a lot of effort, more than I’d imagined.
So she’d been keeping an eye on me since earlier, concerned that I wouldn’t like what she made…
Even Viki said her dishes were great.
But I hadn’t said anything…
“It’s not that.”
Upon realizing this, I hurriedly smiled at her: “Mom, this time, the Captain Gray is even better than before! I couldn’t resist eating several!”
“Really?”
Mom sighed in relief: “Then don’t just munch on sweets; come, try this dish I made… It’s been ages since you’ve had Northerner cuisine, hasn’t it?”
“Um…”
—
My mind was off, needing some recalibration.
I’m sorry, this isn’t an update.
By putting this out there, everyone knows I definitely didn’t deliver again today.
Actually, I didn’t have much to do today, that’s why I said I’d update normally—thought there wouldn’t be a problem. But trouble popped up immediately: I couldn’t sleep until almost five last night.
Should have been close to five, right? I was dazed, hardly slept, only to be jolted up this morning by the loudspeakers for nucleic acid testing. After finishing the test and returning home to boot up my computer, I typed a few lines only to feel like they were total nonsense. So I figured I’d catch a quick nap first. One nap turned into three hours until three in the afternoon. I hadn’t even eaten, wasn’t hungry, groggy, and when I finally sat back in front of the computer to write again, I thought with this time I’d easily write over three thousand words. Yet three hours later, I’d only managed to put together 400 readable words.
My state was off.
Though I really hoped to keep my promise, having missed the double update two days ago and not completed the double update yesterday, here I was with just one update today. Why couldn’t I get it out?
Thinking along that line made me even more anxious, and then I couldn’t write at all.
I felt I needed to take some time to adjust my mindset.
The final volume… I couldn’t keep rushing onward like this.
After some pondering, I decided to slow down a bit.
No more hurriedly thinking about how everyone’s waiting for updates, scrolling through comments asking for updates. So today I’ll try to write more and faster; if I don’t write enough, I have to double-update tomorrow.
I want to slow down to explore more details.
Umm…
Sorry.
I’m thinking this way now; tonight I’ll go to a lakeside, catch some fresh air, possibly jog a bit while listening to some music, clear my head and inspire more interesting plot points.
There should be one update tomorrow.
But if my state doesn’t adjust smoothly, then for the next while, I might update a big chapter every couple of days.
Of course, this won’t last long; at most a week.
This isn’t the first time I’ve needed to adjust my state. I should be able to manage my time, and it shouldn’t be more than a week.
But after that, I still want to slow down, aiming for at least one update a day. If I feel there’s a gap in ideas or something isn’t working, I won’t force an update.
In short, the last volume has the most clues and complex events.
I don’t want to sacrifice quality for speed too much, losing the sense of pacing in the story as I rush things—I can’t allow myself to write poor content while holding onto that kind of mindset.
Once again, I apologize to everyone.
I hope for your understanding.
