291. Beggar Siblings - Chicken Dish
As the darkness lifted, Minseo’s vision swept across the vast plains. The sprawling fields, crops swaying gently in the warm sumr breeze, filled Minseo with relief.
It was the beggar siblings.
Yet, the anger did not subside easily.
No rewards for this round.
Was it because they had already seen the true ending of the betrothal route? Was the system implying that once you earned the true ending, no further rewards would be given for future rounds? Minseo’s insides churned with the feeling that Ray’s hard work had all gone to waste.
This was beyond unfair. They hadn’t even severed their ties with Rera, and yet, despite doing their best...
Minseo cursed the deity on Ray’s behalf. No, filled with frustration, he spat out every curse he knew. But the video didn’t slow down or speed up; it simply continued to move toward Orville.
His view crossed the city walls and penetrated the narrow alleys of the southern market. Turning left, then right, Minseo, now in the body of Lean de Yeriel, entered the shadowed alley where he sat slumped.
In that mont, all his anger dissipated. It wasn’t because he felt the frail body or the overwhelming hunger. Nor was it because the history he knew had changed.
[Achievent: ‘22nd’ Leo - The speed at which the player synchronizes with Leo increases slightly.]
[22/24]
[Achievent: King 4/6]
[‘Nobility Society’ information has been updated.]
The Astin & Aster Kingdoms no longer existed. The achievent ‘King’ which was 5/7, had its starting and ending points reduced, and the Aslan Kingdom had risen to power, dominating the northern regions with unbroken strength.
The era of the Six Kingdoms.
Ray Dexter, or rather, Ray’s wish had been fulfilled, but Minseo couldn’t bring himself to care.
Next to him, Lerialia was dozing off, her head bobbing. Minseo’s heart ached as he clutched his chest.
Flooding mories.
When Lean was a child, he escaped the Nevis royal castle, led by Sir Bart.
Grabbing his wailing, hungry little sister and crossing the corpse-strewn plains.
- “You must head to the Kingdom of Bellita in the northwest. If you hide in a village near the border, the royal guards will co looking for you.”
Sir Barin.
The last advice from his loyal guard was all Lean could rely on. Surviving on the provisions left by Barin, Lean trudged north with the steps of a child. After a long journey, they arrived at the domain of Baron Monarch.
The Baron Monarch’s domain bordered the Kingdom of Bellita to the northwest and the Kingdom of Aisel to the northeast.
It was a place teeming with beggars trying to cross the border for their own reasons, and there, Lean took the ‘silver ring’ Lerialia had.
It was Sir Barin’s engagent ring. After saring dirt on his sobbing sister’s face, he used the ring to buy the help of another beggar to cross the border.
Although he fought fiercely with the beggar along the way, Lean decided to forget it. The man had taken a fancy to boys.
They crossed the border and hid near a village, but the royal guards who were supposed to co never showed up.
Were we too late?
Or was there never anyone looking for us in the first place? By then, Lean had beco a beggar wandering the villages near the border.
At least it was a warm southern region. Despite his gauntness, his handso appearance elicited pity from many. So adults even tried to show him kindness.
But Lean, who had encountered the ugly desires of adults at a young age, always shook his head cautiously. And at the sa ti, he hid his sister fiercely.
When he went begging in a village, he hid Lerialia under a wall. If anyone saw his sister, no matter how good or bad they seed, whether they saw her face or not, he never returned to that village again.
If it hadn’t been for his sister, Lean might have had many ways to survive.
He had grown into a boy so beautiful it was frightening.
Sohow, all the people who gave him food were won, and the girls followed him with affection at first sight, chasing after him once he finished begging.
As Lerialia’s existence was discovered, the list of villages they couldn’t go to grew longer and longer.
For him, his appearance was both a ans of survival and a curse.
His sister too, was caught in the sa curse, becoming breathtakingly beautiful and unable to move freely.
Lean was afraid of growing older.
What should I do about this? Increasingly excessive kindness and people looking at him as if he were a stud horse. The {lineage} that couldn’t be revealed to anyone... his sister whom he couldn’t take his eyes off for a mont.
As he wiped out mories of the warm southern villages of the Kingdom of Bellita and traveled north, Lean reached a giant city and made up his mind.
I’ll hide and live here. It seed better to hide among the throngs of people, and thankfully, it was the right choice.
rchants from various countries gathered here, and the people, struggling to make ends et day by day, were harsh and unkind. The na of this giant city was Orville, the capital of the Kingdom of Bellita, and Lean’s life as a common beggar in the city began.
Minseo didn’t care much for the pain and fear Lean felt.
Even Lean himself did not bring them to the forefront, so Minseo, who was rging with him, looked pitifully at his sleeping sister.
His extrely lazy sister.
The reason Lerialia could easily sleep for 16 hours a day was rooted in Lean’s past.
Like a sleeping beauty, whenever her brother went begging in the village, Lerialia would sleep. She too had found her own way to survive, and it had beco a habit.
Lerialia learned and saw the world only through ‘dreams.’
Minseo, guessing what Lerialia’s wish might have been, felt a pain so intense it seed to squeeze his heart as he clutched the necklace.
Lerialia had never seen a happy ending. Despite having one of the simplest and most humble dreams, the damned {lineage} of hers, the path that would have made Lena a princess, turned the lives of this beggar siblings into unending suffering.
The reason why the ‘The Princess’ ending they had achieved after driving out Prince Eric de Yeriel in the previous round had been a re clear and not the true ending, lay in this.
It felt as if his insides were being twisted and torn apart.
He rembered his sister, who had drunk filthy water, walking alongside him saying, “Next ti, let’s build a house there.”
He understood why she had gone to the brothel to earn money.
Why she fell ill after deciding to beco an adopted daughter of Marquis Tatian, why she stubbornly insisted on bidding farewell to the people of the Launo family after becoming their family, and why she ended up living an unhappy life as a princess after losing her brother.
Lerialia wanted to have a ho. She always talked about having a ho and wanted to live with her brother. That was all.
The ending of the beggar siblings in the previous round had not happened because Lerialia beca a princess. The ending had triggered when she finally saw the royal castle as her ho, amidst the cheers of the people during the coronation of Arquinne.
That must have been the true ending.
She must have thought that she would live forever in that castle with her brother!
Lerialia believed her dream had co true, which triggered the true ending. But after being married off to the Kingdom of Aisel and separated from her brother, it was downgraded to just a "clear."
That’s right. In the resurfacing mory, his sister was writing a letter to her brother, foolishly happy, saying she had finally cleared the beggar siblings’ scenario.
Minseo wrapped his arm around his dozing sister’s shoulder. “Eek?!” Startled awake, Lerialia looked up, and he said to her,
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry... You must be thirsty, right? I’m sorry I couldn’t get any water. Here, drink this instead.”
The ti granted by his sixth death achievent ended here. Lean de Yeriel, who now rembered his entire past, overwheld Minseo’s consciousness.
He quickly covered Minseo’s slip-up by offering a ‘cup filled with rainwater.’ “Oh? It’s filled up quite a bit.” Lerialia hastily gulped down the water.
Though he was thirsty too, Lean, rembering Minseo, took care of his sister first. He didn’t mind Minseo’s outburst of emotions.
A commoner who peered into his deepest secrets. A stranger who, with misguided judgnts, threw him and his sister into suffering multiple tis.
Yet, for the two of them who only faced a bleak future, he had been given a chance, and there were monts in the flood of mories where he wondered if it was really the sa Minseo who had acted so selflessly.
Despite escaping back to the world he had lived in, Minseo chose to return here. He kept the promise—one he never really believed any of the other Leos would keep—not to run away alone.
‘Thank you.’
Lean appreciated Minseo’s thoughtful heart. Just then, his sister, who had been sipping the water sparingly, handed the cup back.
“Brother, here... You should drink too.”
She hadn’t even drunk half.
He wanted to tell her to finish it, but Lean accepted his sister’s gesture. After moistening his throat a little, he lifted his body from the damp ground.
Despite drinking the water, the thirst still burned, and the hunger was tearing his stomach apart.
But he was used to it.
He placed his bony, twig-like leg, and his skin-and-bone hand on his knee.
Despite the dire situation, Lean de Yeriel smiled.
Even the countless tragedies of past rounds seed insignificant in the face of a brighter future.
Lean reached out his hand.
“Let’s go. Ti to eat.”
Let’s go, to be happy. With a puzzled look, Lerialia placed her thin hand in her brother’s.
*
For so reason, business was slow today.
The owner of the chicken shop stood idly by the entrance. It was around the ti custors would start ordering lunch, yet the shop was empty.
Was it just a bad day, or did he really need to focus on promotions?
When business is bad, a rchant’s heart grows restless by the minute.
He had always believed that as long as the food was good, the restaurant would succeed, but even his stubborn conviction was starting to waver.
At that mont, raggedy beggar children appeared from a narrow alleyway between the shops.
Dressed in horribly filthy clothes, they headed straight for his shop, as if today was truly an unlucky day.
‘Of all places, why are they coming here? What a bother.’
The owner of the chicken shop scowled as he rose from his seat.
He picked up a rounded bat used for tenderizing chicken and blocked their path.
“Hey, I’m telling you nicely—get lost.”
“I apologize for our appearance. But if you’d allow, could we have a al inside?”
What kind of beggar talks like that?
The rchant took a second look at the beggar boy.
With his head calmly held high and those rare golden eyes, he had a handso face.
It didn’t have much effect on him, being a man, but there was a peculiar sense of dignity about him.
The rchant felt the need to be cautious with his words. Now that he looked closely, the thing hanging from his waist wasn’t a stick, but a sword.
“...Well, um. Sir, I’m sorry, but you don’t seem to have any money.”
Of course, no matter what, he had to confirm this.
It was already embarrassing enough that he had hidden the bat behind his back and was speaking so politely. That was how terrible the beggar children looked, but fortunately, the beggar boy pulled out two silver coins.
“I believe this should be sufficient. Please prepare us a seat and bring so warm drinking water. Also, a bowl to wash our hands and... a towel. We’ll place our order inside.”
It was a good thing he had been careful with his words. He’s a noble. The rchant bowed his head.
“Of course, sir. Please, co inside. I’ll serve you right away.”
The rchant, now holding the silver coins, busied himself.
He flung the door wide open to make the noble guest’s steps more comfortable and laid out a tablecloth.
He adjusted the chairs to make them easy to sit in, waited for them to be seated, and then ran to the kitchen.
It had been a long ti since he had served a noble.
In his past, he had once dread of becoming a chef for a noble family.
He had wandered from one noble’s house to another, trying to showcase his skills, but unfortunately, he had never made it as a head chef.
He had even dread of serving the king, princes, and princesses.
His culinary skills, honed over ti, were now going to waste. For a while, he drowned himself in alcohol, and eventually, he opened a chicken shop to make a living. Dealing with ordinary custors had dulled his skills, but today seed like a day to put them to use.
The rchant washed his hands first.
The shop owner changed his dirty apron, stained from separating the chicken head and legs, for a fresh one. He then brewed a pot of his favorite tea in the boiling water. Two silver coins weren't enough to justify this level of service, but he was determined to do his best.
He had been asked to bring a bowl for washing hands.
Pouring the freshly brewed tea into a cup, he mixed the leftover water with cold water and filled the bowl. He brought it to the table where the guests were chatting quietly.
“Brother, where did you get this?” he heard the girl ask as he placed the bowl before them.
“Here’s a towel as well.”
“Thank you.”
Even the hand accepting the towel displayed elegant manners.
‘He really is a noble,’ the shop owner thought as he handed over the nu. It was so old and wrinkled from disuse that he felt embarrassed.
“It seems I’ll need to pay more.”
Back when he had first opened the shop, the nu had been filled with ambitious recipes. Dishes that no one ever ordered, using expensive ingredients, had ended up being discarded. To his surprise, the noble lord in front of him paid three more silver coins and said,
“I see you have poulet au vin blanc. We’ll have that, please. It might take a while; do you have any appetizers?”
“...I’m afraid we don’t have any prepared.”
“That’s understandable. Then please shred so of the chicken displayed outside and bring it. We can wait. I’m looking forward to your wonderful cooking.”
“Of course, right away. I’ll prepare it imdiately.”
The shop owner was a bit moved.
He thought he had turned into just another greedy rchant, but he was grateful for the patience shown.
The shop owner—no, the chef—quickly shredded so chicken and mixed it with fresh vegetables. He served it to the noble guests and, after getting their permission, went outside.
He didn’t have the ingredients needed to make poulet au vin blanc in the shop. The chef rushed to the market to gather what he needed. Just then, a neighboring rchant approached him.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing, letting those beggar kids into your shop? Are you even listening to ?”
“Just shut up.”
He didn’t even listen to the other rchant’s nagging.
Rice, mushrooms, white wine, butter, and... Oh yes, cream.
As he gathered the ingredients for the poulet au vin blanc, a strange sense of nostalgia washed over him.
I had a dream once, too. I had forgotten the joy of cooking.
Arms full of ingredients, he returned to the shop with a lively step. He planned to ask for the guests' understanding once more before preparing the dish, but the chef nearly dropped everything in his arms.
Sitting there was an astonishingly beautiful girl. With a mouth full of shredded chicken, she smiled brightly.
“What’s the matter?”
“N-Nothing. I an... I’m back. If you could wait just a little longer...”
He fumbled his words and turned back around. Then, he rembered the dirty towel and the bowl of black water on the table and cleaned them up.
Was that the sa girl from before?
There was still so dirt left in her golden hair. Even so, she was radiantly beautiful... He began to doubt whether these people were really just nobles. Perhaps they were royalty, figures far beyond his reach.
Back in the kitchen, he began to prepare the poulet au vin blanc.
First, he soaked the rice and marinated the chicken in wine. It would have been better if he had done this earlier, but it had to be done now.
He lted butter in the pot and mixed in the soaked rice, letting it cook. anwhile, he placed the chicken in hot oil for 2–3 minutes until it was a pleasing golden brown, then transferred it to another pot.
Stealing a glance at the guests waiting for their al (specifically, the girl), he sprinkled the prepped mushrooms over the chicken.
It was now ti to infuse the dish with flavor.
Pouring the remaining half-bottle of white wine over the chicken and mushrooms, he cooked it uncovered for three minutes.
He left the lid off to evaporate the alcohol from the wine, leaving only its aroma behind.
Now, the chef was too busy to steal glances at the girl as he whipped the cream in a bowl. He stirred it vigorously until it was light and frothy, then added it to the rich-slling chicken and mushrooms that had begun to release a heavy aroma.
He let the sauce, a mix of white wine and cream, simr until it thickened slightly, cooking for another three minutes with the lid off. Stirring with one hand and preparing the plates with the other, he took a mont of pride in his work. His skills hadn’t rusted after all. He had preheated the plates on the stove to keep them warm. He layered the yellow, buttery rice on the pleasantly warm plate, then carefully placed the chicken on top.
The yellow rice soaked in the rich white sauce, complented by the deeply flavored mushrooms and chicken. It was a perfect poulet au vin blanc!
Holding a plate in each hand, the chef strode out confidently.
“Wow!” The beautiful girl’s exclamation was followed by the noble lord’s delighted smile. Awkwardly, the chef bowed and hurried back to the now chaotic kitchen, where he slumped down.
He thought back on his dream.
“Is it good?”
“Mm! Mm! Mm!” His sister’s face was full of joy as she ate the rice and chicken, shaking with happiness. Lean smiled brightly as well.
This ti, he was determined to make his sister happy. That’s why he had co here, to the chicken shop, to ensure her first al was satisfying.
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason he ca here.
Before Cassia broke free from her constraints, he had sought her out at her shoe shop. After discovering that his lover, Jenia, was waiting for him out in the rain, he had gone to her.
But this ti, he couldn’t do that. Though their encounter had begun the sa way—with a spilled drink while she was out for her morning walk—
- “Who are you? Don’t spout nonsense and get out of the way! Do you even know who this person is?”
Jenia wasn’t alone.
She was being guarded by the red-haired swordswoman, Katrina.
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