Scones With Cream

I decided to make some scones, which I could whip up quickly.

I mixed together flour, sugar, baking soda, and a little salt, then added butter, followed by milk.

“Hey.”

As I was cutting out the dough with a round cutter, the brownie who had brought in the laundry earlier called out to me in a quiet voice from behind the cupboard.

“You never said you were making scones.”

“I only just decided to.”

“I’d rather have scones than cookies. Give me a scone instead.”

Brownies disliked showing themselves to anyone outside the household. It was unusual for one to speak to me while guests were present, but scones were his favorite, and apparently he couldn’t resist.

“That’s fine, but if you want cream with it, you’ll have to do another job.”

I whispered my reply to the brownie.

“Then I’ll polish the lamps and candlesticks for you.”

“Good. It’s a deal.”

With our bargain concluded, the brownie promptly disappeared.

“…Was that a fairy just now?”

The man’s voice came from behind me.

Much to my annoyance, this man was remarkably skilled at concealing his presence.

I hadn’t even realized he was watching.

“Yes. A house fairy. Apparently, most large houses have them living inside.”

“Apparently?”

“I knew about them in theory, but this is the first time I’ve actually encountered one.”

I simply didn’t know enough about them to make any definitive claims.

“This is my first time seeing a house fairy, too. So they really do exist. They’re spirits of good fortune that settle in good homes, aren’t they?”

The man seemed impressed.

“By the way, sir, did you need something?”

“Yes. I’d like another glass of water for my companion. But what are you making?”

“Scones. There’s a pitcher of water in the dining room, so please help yourself.”

I told him where the water was, but the man made no move to leave.

“What are scones?”

“A type of cake. They don’t require fermentation, so they’re also known as quick bread.”

“They don’t need to ferment?”

He didn’t look like someone who did much cooking, but he was surprisingly interested.

“That’s right. I use baking soda in the dough.”

“Baking soda?”

“It makes the dough rise without having to ferment it.”

The man watched my hands with considerable interest.

The unbaked scones were only a few centimeters tall at the moment. Once baked, they would rise to approximately twice that height.

“…That sounds convenient.”

“It certainly is.”

By the time our conversation ended, I had finished shaping the scones and slid the baking tray into the oven.

Now all I had to do was wait for them to bake.

Glancing sideways, I noticed that the man was also staring intently at the oven.

Why?

Perhaps sensing my gaze, he turned toward me and asked,

“How long do these scones take to bake?”

“About twenty minutes.”

“I’d like to try them. Make enough for two, please.”

He wanted to eat them?

“Well, certainly, but I’ll have to charge you.”

“Of course.”

“What would you like to drink? I can prepare coffee or tea.”

The man’s eyes widened.

“You have coffee?”

Coffee was an expensive import from a distant foreign country.

Even in the royal capital, it was a luxury that only nobles and wealthy people could afford. However, I looked forward to enjoying one cup of coffee every day.

“I do. But as you know, the ingredients are expensive, so I charge two silver coins per cup.”

“Coffee, then. Two cups.”

With two silver coins, an ordinary person could probably survive for an entire week if they were frugal.

This man, who casually ordered two cups, was apparently quite well-off.

Judging by his bearing and manner of speech, he was probably a knight of some renown.

If I remembered correctly, the margrave who ruled this frontier territory was himself an accomplished magic knight and had several outstanding magic knights serving under him.

The moment that thought occurred to me, I hurriedly shook my head.

…No, no. I needed to stop speculating about his identity. As long as I remained unaware of who he was, he was simply another passing customer. If I discovered his identity, however, things could become troublesome.

There were countless things in this world that were better left unknown.

I took the coffee beans and grinder from the cupboard and headed toward the dining room.

“Is the stove going to be all right?”

“Yes. It uses a combination of firewood and magic stones, so I can maintain a constant temperature.”

Besides, the brownies were eagerly waiting for the scones to finish baking.

They would surely alert me if anything went wrong.

When I entered the dining room, the other guest was already there.

He had taken off his cloak and was drying his belongings by the fireplace.

“I’ve been warming myself by your fire.”

The brown-haired man greeted me while studying me with interest.

Knights belonged to a privileged class. Although they did not enjoy the same status as nobles, they were a cut above commoners, and many looked down on ordinary people. However, I sensed none of that arrogance from either of these men.

“I borrowed one of the towels in the stable. I hope that was all right.”

I kept several old but clean towels there for wiping down the horses.

“Of course. You’re welcome to use those whenever you like.”

“We also helped ourselves to some fodder and water.”

“Please feel free to use those as well.”

As I answered, I poured him a glass of water.

It was only water, but the water from our well was delicious.

I placed the coffee grinder on the dining room table, but there was something I needed to do before grinding the beans.

I took the coffee beans out of their jar and poured them onto a flat plate with a rattling sound.

“What are you doing?”

The black-haired man leaned over to take a look.

“I’m separating the good beans from the bad ones.”

The reason I was doing this in the dining room was that it was brighter than the kitchen, thanks to the numerous magic-stone lamps.

“Hmm. What makes a bean good?”

“Good beans are properly roasted to a deep brown color. Bad beans are cracked or have poor coloring.”

I explained as I continued sorting through the beans. Once you got used to it, the task wasn’t particularly difficult. In fact, I found the simple, repetitive work rather refreshing.

“I’d like to try.”

Since the black-haired man seemed eager, I had him wash his hands first and then left the task to him.

Using his large hands, the man picked up the beans one by one, examining each with an extraordinarily serious expression before sorting it into the appropriate pile.

“What do you do with the bad beans? Throw them away?”

“Of course not. That would be such a waste. I save them until I have enough for a cup, then drink them with warm milk. Even inferior beans make delicious coffee if you add milk.”

Taking about four times as long as I ordinarily would, the black-haired man finished sorting enough beans for three cups of coffee: one for me and one for each of the two men.

I put the beans into the grinder and was just about to start grinding them when someone swiftly snatched it away from beside me.

It was the black-haired man.

“I’ll do it. I want to try.”

He made this declaration with considerable enthusiasm.

“Of course. Thank you.”

“Lord Alvin, allow me to…”

The brown-haired man spoke in an alarmed voice, but the black-haired man refused to yield.

“No, I’ll do it myself.”

The brown-haired man watched anxiously as his black-haired companion enthusiastically ground the coffee beans.

Apparently, the black-haired man was his superior officer.

While he was grinding the beans, I returned to the kitchen and took the finished scones out of the oven.

They had baked to a lovely pale golden brown and turned out rather well.

Personally, I thought strawberry jam went best with scones, but unfortunately, strawberries weren’t in season.

Instead, I served the freshly baked scones with chestnut paste, cranberry jam, and a generous helping of cream.

When I brought over the coffee server and cloth filter, the brown-haired man offered to brew the coffee himself.

I set down the dessert plates bearing the scones and was about to return to the kitchen when the black-haired man stopped me.

“Why don’t you join us?”

“…Are you sure?”

The black-haired man took a bite of his scone.

“Delicious.”

His straightforward praise put me in a good mood.

“Thank you.”

The other man offered his opinion as well.

“These are delicious. The cream is wonderfully rich, too.”

“Thank you. It’s made from the milk of a Milhy cow.”

“I’ve heard they’re rather temperamental, even after being tamed.”

“Our cow isn’t particularly difficult.”

“The coffee’s excellent, too.”

“Thank you. The water here seems to suit it.”

I chatted with them for a while, but then a clattering noise came from the kitchen.

Apparently, the brownies were growing impatient.

I hurried into the kitchen and prepared their portions.

Since I was in such a good mood after receiving all that praise, I decided to give them some nut cookies as well.

I returned from the kitchen with a plate of cookies in one hand, and the black-haired man spoke to me.

“I’m amazed that bread can be made so easily. What is that baking soda you mentioned earlier made from? And why isn’t it more widely used?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I’ve heard it’s made by refining trona. As for why it isn’t more widespread, I imagine it’s because it’s expensive.”

Baking soda was a revolutionary ingredient that allowed you to skip the entire process of making bread or cake rise. On the other hand, the same result could be achieved through fermentation with yeast.

Yeast could be cultivated by adding water to fruit and other ingredients. As for the cost, you could use parts of apples that were unsuitable for eating, such as the seeds and peels, so it was practically free.

With such an inexpensive alternative available, few ordinary people would go out of their way to purchase an expensive product.

However, cultivating yeast and fermenting dough required time and careful temperature control. Maintaining a constant temperature and baking delicious bread in an ordinary household was surprisingly difficult.

The black-haired man seemed quite astonished and began firing questions at me in rapid succession.

“I know trona. If that’s the raw material, surely it shouldn’t be particularly expensive? And can you even eat the stuff in the first place? It’s a rock!”

I had initially thought exactly the same thing, but rock salt, which was essentially a lump of salt, was also a mineral. Edible minerals did exist.

However…

“Apparently, unlike rock salt, trona can’t be eaten as it is. Baking soda is produced by combining trona with, um, something else and refining it.”

The black-haired man leaned forward eagerly.

“I see. Tell me more.”

Even if he asked, I wasn’t a scholar, so there was nothing more I could teach him.

“I’m afraid I don’t know the details. Our country produces hardly any trona, and we don’t have the technology to refine it, so all our baking soda is imported from abroad.”

“But it’s so convenient. I’d like to see it become widespread in our country.”

“Indeed.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.

Having heard that even beginners could bake bread successfully with it, I had purchased a huge quantity in the royal capital. However, it was so convenient that I had already used up a considerable amount of my supply. The thought that I would soon run out was rather frightening.

Well, compared to when I first started living here, I had become much better at fermenting bread dough without making mistakes. I was sure I would manage somehow, even if I ran out.

The sun would soon be setting, but the rain showed no sign of letting up.

Looking at the rain beating against the windows, the black-haired man spoke.

“We’ll stay the night.”

“Certainly. It’s two silver coins per person, including meals. Is that acceptable? Alcohol is charged separately.”

That was slightly above the going rate for a mid-range inn in town. There were undoubtedly cheaper places to stay if you looked for them, so my establishment was by no means a budget inn.

The men seemed entirely unconcerned by the price. Saying, “That’s fine,” they handed me a gold coin as an advance payment.

Then one of them asked with evident curiosity,

“What’s on the menu tonight?”