Days pass as I’m jostled around in this covered wagon.
The silence is rather lonely, with no conversation to be had.
Well, it’s Shuri here. I’ve been kidnapped.
Ah, it’s been… probably about three days since I first regained consciousness.
You know, there’s quite a difference between preparing meals as part of my castle duties and being forced to cook as a hostage. The passage of time feels completely different, and it’s rather troubling.
What I mean is, Ryufa somehow gets his hands on ingredients, makes me cook them, and then eats everything without so much as a word of appreciation before going right back to handling the reins.
It’s frustrating that he gives absolutely no feedback. And then…
“Ryufa, what kind of place is Grand-Ende?”
“…”
“I hope it’s at least somewhere pleasant to live. What’s the climate like?”
“…”
This is what I’m dealing with!
It’s currently daytime. Though the sky is cloudy, there’s no sign of rain.
The wind that slips through the gaps in the covered wagon is somewhat cold, as if reflecting the current atmosphere. Haha! Though this is hardly a laughing matter.
“Ryufa…”
“If you attempt any more meaningless conversation, this humble one will have to strike you.”
Scary!
“It’s just that I’m so terribly bored…”
“This humble one recalls that you are, in fact, being kidnapped. Why would a kidnapping victim complain about being bored?”
“I’ve always been kept busy with work until now. I’m just not used to suddenly having nothing to do.”
“I see.”
Oh, we finally had a conversation that lasted more than a moment. Even if it was brief.
“Back when I was with the mercenary group, we traveled to all sorts of places, and I worked pretty hard up until being kidnapped.”
“What sort of things, pray tell? This humble one wouldn’t mind hearing about that.”
Oh? …Ah, I get it.
While he won’t talk about Grand-Ende or himself due to security concerns, he’s willing to engage in conversation about me and Gungrave to gather information.
Though I want to grimace, it’s no big deal once I understand his purpose.
I just need to make sure I don’t reveal any crucial information.
“Well… The first thing I was involved in was—”
And so begins my tale of the past.
Who knows how much time has passed?
I carefully choose my words to avoid any mistakes while keeping the conversation flowing.
To be honest, during the conversation, I thought maybe I shouldn’t be talking at all… but I decided to continue since stopping abruptly would seem unnatural.
“And that’s how things were in Nouviche—”
“That’s enough.”
Ryufa cuts me off mid-story.
“Huh? What’s wrong?”
“It’s about time for dinner.”
What? I look outside and indeed, the sky has grown dark. It seems the clouds will persist, and we likely won’t be able to see any stars tonight.
“…I’m getting hungry. Are there still ingredients available?”
“Yes.”
These mysterious supplies that Ryufa got from who knows where.
While there’s certainly enough left… honestly, I’m hesitant to use these supplies.
But I have to cook, or who knows what Ryufa might do to me.
“Then I’ll leave it to you. This humble one is hungry.”
“I see…”
With that, Ryufa pulls the wagon to the side of the road and begins tending to the horse.
Now then, what should I make… I’ll go with something simple.
Today I’m making Scotch eggs.
The ingredients needed are eggs, mixed ground beef and pork, salt and pepper, flour, breadcrumbs, and oil.
For preparation, first boil the eggs to your preferred firmness. I’ll make some soft-boiled ones too.
Mix the ground beef and pork with flour, add salt and pepper, and knead until it becomes sticky. Keep at it until you get the right consistency.
Then wrap the boiled eggs in the meat mixture and shape them, coat them in flour mixed with water and breadcrumbs, and fry them.
“Alright, this should do it.”
I let the fried Scotch eggs drain on paper and arrange them on plates.
I’ll prepare extra just in case. I wonder if he’ll eat a lot.
“Is it ready?”
As I finish preparing them, Ryufa enters the wagon.
He plops down and stares at the plates.
“…This is it?”
“Yes. These are called Scotch eggs.”
“No explanation needed.”
Ryufa produces a fork from somewhere and starts eating.
They’re still quite hot, but he keeps eating with an unfazed expression…
“…”
As he silently continues to eat, I hurriedly start eating as well.
Yes, they turned out piping hot. Both the hard-boiled and soft-boiled Scotch eggs came out delicious.
“How are they, Ryufa?”
“It’s edible.”
Oh, is that so. They’re “edible,” are they?
I think they turned out quite tasty though… I’ve never heard this person say “delicious” even once.
The hard-boiled ones have a firm yolk texture and umami flavor that goes great with the meat.
The soft-boiled ones have that runny yolk that mixes in your mouth, creating a different kind of delicious flavor and aroma.
They turned out well, but Ryufa doesn’t say anything.
“Hey.”
“Pardon?”
While I’m lost in thought, Ryufa speaks up.
“As I said earlier, this humble one will tolerate your daytime stories. This humble one will eat your food. Beyond that, do not involve yourself with us.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“This humble one has no intention of getting friendly. That’s all there is to it. Now that I’m done eating, I’m going to sleep.”
With that, Ryufa leans back against the wagon and closes his eyes.
…Even if he says he’s sleeping, I’m sure there’s no chance for me to escape.
But hey, at least I’ve found something to occupy my time.
I want to make this person say “delicious.”
Despite being kidnapped, that’s what I find myself thinking about.