Which country is Charlotte’s holand?
It’s Belvur.
Then, what country is Belvur modeled after?
It’s based on France and Belgium.
Ah, of course, that’s not to say that all French or Belgian people are obsessed with chocolate and wine.
There are Koreans who dislike kimchi, or who don’t eat spicy food, right? Granted, the standard for that might differ a little from that of foreigners.
Still, in subculture settings, characters often reflect the stereotypical traits of the nationality they’re inspired by. The reason is simple: it makes their personality easier to express and more entertaining. And as long as it doesn’t veer into outright mockery, people from those countries often like it too.
I’ve never actually been to France, nor have I had any French acquaintances, so I can’t really say how the French feel about their own cuisine, but—
“It’s delicious...”
As we ate the food Charlotte had served with such a proud expression, none of us could speak for a mont.
Although I had been back in my holand for the past few months, the food I’d eaten for the last several years ca from the Azerna Empire, whose cuisine matched the stereotypes of “British food you see floating around the internet.”
Ah, it’s not like the food was inedible. My status was that of an imperial princess, so naturally, the als I ate were prepared to match that standard.
Even so, not all the food tasted good, and the variety wasn’t particularly impressive. And since I hadn’t entirely abandoned my Korean palate, there were so parts that just fundantally didn’t agree with .
So, without realizing it, I’d developed a kind of belief: “food in this other world isn’t that great.”
“Charlotte. I an this seriously—you have a talent for cooking.”
“Do you think so?”
Charlotte answered a bit shyly in response to my comnt.
It’s not like I hadn’t had Belvur cuisine in the other world, or that I hadn’t eaten Charlotte’s cooking in this one.
But those als hadn’t been “properly prepared” dishes. Most of them had been made with the “Korean ingredients” I unconsciously bought out of habit.
We also often ate out or ordered in. We only started staying indoors regularly once the weather got noticeably colder.
Thinking back, the reason we wandered around outside so much in the morning was simply because our ho was small. After we moved into the apartnt, even five people in the living room didn’t feel cramped, but in our previous studio apartnt, it had honestly been a bit tight.
So we didn’t really get many chances to eat “seriously prepared” food like this.
Recently, as part of our ongoing effort to “find new hobbies,” Charlotte had started trying her hand at cooking.
She decided to move beyond the student recipes I used back when I lived alone, and to try making food she genuinely liked.
Even though the languages of this world and the other one are different, because of the shared inspiration, there are so overlaps in proper nouns. Since the original work also had collectible items related to cuisine, dish nas in particular often matched.
Take boeuf bourguignon, for example—a dish that sounds fancy just by its na, but apparently, in France, it’s considered ho cooking.
This dish, which uses generous amounts of France’s pride—wine (though we used Arican wine)—and beef, had a warm and comforting flavor, just like the internet described it: a classic French ho-cooked al.
We had gone all out to recreate the dish with ingredients that were hard to find here, so of course it turned out delicious. It’s not that I’ve never had more luxurious food, but still...
Why does this taste so good?
“Maybe it’s because it tastes like ho?”
Charlotte smiled as she spoke.
“...Does it taste the sa as what you had when you were little?”
“No, not really. Actually, I didn’t eat it that often.”
Well, that makes sense. It’s ho cooking, after all. Royals probably ate gourt food made by palace chefs. It’s unlikely she’d have any particular mories tied to this dish.
“O-oh! Maybe it’s the atmosphere!”
As we were lost in thought, Mia suddenly blurted out.
“The atmosphere?”
Alice looked around at those words, and as if sothing had suddenly clicked in her mind, she murmured, “Ah.”
Charlotte nodded in agreent.
Cold outside. Warm ho.
People who’ve spent a long ti together in the sa place.
And even though it’s a bit early, there are Christmas decorations. Of course, there’s no Christmas in Azerna, but they have a similar holiday. They celebrate the end of the year too.
Maybe that’s what it is.
“To be honest, I’ve hardly ever seen people gather around like this to share a al.”
“...”
Classic Mia.
With her bleak life story, she occasionally drops emotional landmines like this.
“...Now that you ntion it, too. I almost never ate with my father—”
Alice, who had started to speak, suddenly closed her mouth.
She probably noticed staring at her.
“What’s wrong?”
Claire tilted her head, clearly curious.
“Don’t.”
I hadn’t even said anything yet, but Alice quickly spoke up.
“What kind of story is it, to make you react like that?”
Charlotte asked, also looking intrigued.
“If you don’t say anything now, people might {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} start imagining sothing even weirder.”
I spoke casually, and Alice’s face flushed red.
“Why? What? What is it? What happened?”
Claire, sensing the story involved , grew visibly impatient.
“Fine. You can tell them. Just a little, though.”
Realizing that the conversation had sohow shifted too much in her direction, Alice looked extrely embarrassed.
“‘Just a little’—can you clarify how much exactly that is?”
“...”
Alice shot a glare.
I took that to an she was resigned to the fact that whatever I said would expose her a bit, so I opened my mouth.
“There were a few tis I ate with Alice because she was lonely.”
“Oh.”
Claire’s eyes sparkled for a mont, then she tilted her head again.
“But is that really sothing to be so touchy about?”
“Maybe if she thought it ant no one would eat with her because she had no social skills?”
Charlotte said that, though her tone wasn’t teasing at all.
“But it’s not your fault, Alice. I don’t know exactly what a royal does, but it’s probably not much different from nobility. My father was often busy, so I often ate alone too.”
“Yeah. When I was little, I often had als with Leo.”
“...”
I quietly picked up another piece of beef and put it in my mouth, watching Alice’s face grow redder and redder with every word.
“...Fine. Just say it. It’s okay now...”
Unable to withstand the stares any longer, Alice finally surrendered.
“Are you really okay with that?”
“...”
She grit her teeth, but it couldn’t be helped.
She asked to say it, after all!
“The first ti I invited Alice to eat together, she threw food in my face.”
“...”
The dinner table fell dead silent.
Charlotte, Claire, and Mia stared at with their mouths open, then turned to look at Alice.
“...I wasn’t thinking straight back then. I’m sorry.”
“That’s right.”
I nodded.
Trust isn’t sothing that’s just given. Especially with Alice, who had envied for years as a child. Even the Emperor would openly show favoritism toward in front of her, so it wasn’t entirely her fault.
Still, I never said anything cruel to her and did my best to accept her behavior.
She was just a child. And she’d always been timid, too.
The food she threw was bread—not sothing that would burn or hurt, and it wasn’t covered in anything.
And she didn’t even hit . I turned back ti and dodged it.
That made her even more pissed off.
But because I never got angry, those monts slowly built up the trust we have now.
Of course, I had one other motive.
I wanted to get close to the protagonists, and I also thought it might be useful to bring up Alice’s embarrassing childhood monts once she matured.
I had forgotten all about it—it happened years ago—but to think it would co back like this.
“You’re amazing for putting up with that...”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not supposed to admit it yourself.”
What does it matter? My true nature’s already been exposed enough anyway.
“...Alice. Don’t you think it’s a bit of a stretch to keep calling yourself her ‘older sister’?”
Charlotte said this with a straight face, making Alice blush even more.
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