Let’s Eat Golden Wheat

The attractions presented by the three princes were a hallmark of the “Founding Festival.” Arthur, who had not cared about such things, could not have known it, but in his previous life Rod had not been as wary of him as he was now, so Rod’s program had been safe and conventional, while Arthur’s booth—where he demonstrated his powerful healing—had been by far the most crowded.

Seeing that sight, nobles from other countries had concluded Arthur would take the throne—and indeed he had.

But now the future had changed, and nobles without fixed factions, as well as people from neighboring states, hesitated over what to do.

A major reason was the difference in the two princes’ standings and in their programs compared to the previous life.

Unlike before, Arthur was no longer a puppet of the nobles; he had come to be called a reformer leaning toward the commoners, and his open rivalry with Rod, champion of the nobles, meant both the nobles and the surrounding countries were closely watching the two.

Had Arthur chosen healing again, people could still have made excuses like “I’m bringing my acquaintance for treatment,” but this time the two princes’ attractions overlapped as food. In other words, it had become a preliminary skirmish in the succession struggle—an implicit choice of which side to support.

“Prince Arthur… could you explain this dish?”

In that situation, the one who came straight to Arthur was Elaine. As a member of the neutral Church, unaffected by state factions—and someone who liked Arthur—her choice was natural.

“Hmm… Ah, this is called rice. On its own, it doesn’t have much flavor, but if you eat it with side dishes, it brings out their taste. Try it.”

“Yes… thank you.”

Though she was his hateful rival, a guest was still a guest. Besides, he’d already put her in her place with that dance—so in good spirits, Arthur himself served Elaine rice and side dishes.

For a moment Elaine grinned, thinking they looked like a married couple, then quickly returned to a straight face. She accepted the plate, looking a little nervous, and put it in her mouth without hesitation.

Elaine was an elf, a forest-dweller, and since rice was a plant, she had no prejudice against it. And she didn’t actually have a dull palate—she simply loved spicy food and believed that if she made anything spicy enough, she could eat it; even if it tasted bad, she didn’t much mind.

As she tasted the rice, the eyes of the hall focused on her at once.

“Delicious… This is… different from bread—an entirely new kind of dish. If mass production is possible, I would love to see it distributed in Jerusalem as well.”

Her clear voice, smiling with delight, rang through the hall, and several onlookers began moving toward Arthur.

Hearing the Saintess of the Church praise it—and emboldened after their bafflement at an unfamiliar ingredient—people started to come.

“If you like it, I’m glad. There’s also a dish where rice is simmered with ingredients. It’s called paella.”

While advertising to the nobles who approached, Arthur nodded in satisfaction at the growing crowd—when Elaine tugged at his clothes.

To onlookers, it looked like a shy Saintess adorably begging a foreign prince—but when Arthur saw what was in her hand, cold sweat broke out.

“Hm? What is it?”

“Lord Arthur… if you like, would you use this? I made it myself. I think it will make it even tastier.”

Beaming, Elaine held out a jar filled with black powder. Before Arthur could answer, she opened the lid and sprinkled it on.

“A small thank-you for before, Lord Arthur. Please.”

She had scattered pitch-black spice over the rice and side dish—and for some reason his eyes started to sting. Normally, Arthur would have snapped, “Like hell I can eat this!!” and pushed it back, but this time the goal was to popularize rice. Even he knew enough not to do anything careless.

“Ah… thanks.”

Was this woman getting back at him for earlier…? Arthur glared, but Elaine only smiled happily. He steeled himself and took a bite.

The heat surpassed anything before; he barely kept smiling through sheer willpower.

‘Damn it—just you wait, I’ll put you in your place again!!’

As Arthur stared at her with open hostility, Elaine, murmuring “Ah, an indirect kiss…”, turned her face away—making Arthur think she was laughing at him, and stoking his rivalry further.

“Well… in the elves’ village we put this seasoning into soup when we eat, but I think it would also suit rice. What do you think?”

“Yeah, if we make it soup-like, it might go down easier… As for a name… karai… no, how about curry?”

“Wonderful. I would very much like to try this dish called curry.”

Of course Arthur was being sarcastic, but Elaine, happy that her idea had been accepted, didn’t notice. The two continued to miss each other completely.

Meanwhile, those around them would later recount this as a heartwarming episode of Prince Arthur and Saintess Elaine sharing food and exchanging ideas.

“What a nightmare…”

Having been made to eat Elaine’s unhinged cooking, Arthur chugged water and retreated, then looked toward Morgan. She seemed too busy greeting guests to look his way.

‘All right—this is my chance!!’

“Kei, let’s go to Rod-niisan’s station!! The dishes made with Golden Wheat are insanely good!!”

“Eh, but… Lord Arthur, is it all right for you not to be here?”

“Yeah, Morgan is handling things here, so it should be fine.”

“I see. Then I’ll join you.”

Kei nodded with a beaming smile at Arthur’s words. Normally, each prince was supposed to host his own guests, so in fact this was improper—but in his previous life Arthur had done nothing but heal at Greed’s insistence and left dealings with nobles to them, so he didn’t know.

“Excuse me, I’d like to try the cake made with Golden Wheat…”

“Yes, right awa—eh, Lord Arthur!? Why are you here…?”

When he spoke to one of Rod’s hanger-on nobles, the man yelped as if he’d seen something unbelievable.

He turned to Rod, sending a helpless plea with his eyes about what to do.

“W-What… Arthur, what are you doing here?”

Seeing Rod storm over with a fearsome expression, Kei instinctively stepped between them to shield Arthur and whispered.

“Lord Arthur… perhaps you shouldn’t have gone to another prince’s station after all?”

“What are you saying? Rod-niisan and I are close. He’s just shy, isn’t he?”

“I see, so that’s how it is… A tsundere, perhaps?”

Arthur laughed as if to say “What are you talking about?” and Kei, deciding royalty was complicated, accepted it—she couldn’t help believing him.

Then, from among Rod’s bewildered camp, one man stepped forward.

“Come now, Prince Rod. Since he has graced us with his presence, let him enjoy the Golden Wheat.”

“Grr… but…”

“Oh, Hervé. It’s been a while.”

The man who stayed Rod’s anger was a dignified, bearded noble of about fifty. His name was Hervé, one of the great nobles like Greed.

He was kin to Rod’s mother and one of the leaders of Rod’s faction.

“Lord Hervé… If I recall, you focus on wheat production in your domain and manage fifty percent of Britannia’s food supply, do you not?”

Seeing Hervé, Kei whispered what she had learned from Marianne into Arthur’s ear, just to be safe. She wasn’t showing off her knowledge.

When planning to serve rice at the Founding Festival, Marianne had warned them to be wary of this man, so Kei was following that advice.

“Since you’re here, please enjoy our ‘Golden Wheat,’ grown in my fields. As I recall, Lord Arthur, you like fruit as well.”

Kei tensed, wondering what he would say, but contrary to her fears, Hervé carefully plated the cake with extra fruit—the most lavish among those on display—and offered it to Arthur.

“Oh, that was made from wheat grown in your fields? Impressive. I’ll gladly try it. Here, Kei—since we’re here, have some too.”

“But…”

Kei glanced at Arthur, asking with her eyes if it was acceptable for a maid—especially one from a rival faction—to accept food from a great noble.

“Hm? Hervé, could you prepare one for Kei as well?”

“My apologies. Lord Arthur’s esteemed maid should certainly partake.”

“Th-thank you…”

Confirming that Hervé himself handed it to the nervous Kei, Arthur tasted the cake.

“Whoa—this is insanely good!! Kei, try it—you’ll love it.”

Delighted by how delicious it was, Arthur urged Kei. She glanced at Hervé for a moment, then took a bite.

Her eyes widened at the sponge, richer in sweetness than usual and perfectly highlighting the fruit and cream.

“This is… truly amazing!! And… Lord Arthur, you’re incredible as always—your exclusive maid couldn’t be prouder.”

“Hm…? Ah, right.”

Kei was impressed at Arthur behaving as usual in what was, so to speak, enemy territory—but of course he didn’t notice.

He assumed he was close with Rod, and he knew Hervé by sight. Still oblivious to people’s hearts, Arthur failed to notice the pressure Hervé was directing at him.

“This cake is so delicious. Since we’re here, I’d love some of Kei’s tea. Could I ask you?”

“Yes, leave it to me… but will you be all right on your own?”

“Hm? Ah, it’s not like this is enemy territory. I’ll be fine alone. In fact, hurry, or there might be none left for you.”

“Understood. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

“Oh… not enemy territory… is it…”

As they traded such light remarks and Kei stepped away, Hervé addressed Arthur.

“I’m delighted you enjoy our ‘Golden Wheat.’ Now… a question, if I may. You chose to present something here that could become a rival to my wheat… What are your intentions, Lord Arthur?”

Hervé was smiling as ever—but his eyes did not smile at all. Arthur, absorbed in his cake, failed to notice.