“Briel, do you happen to know how to cook?”
“Cook?”
Considering Butler Squawk was the one asking, it seemed my new assignment would be in the kitchen. I confidently nodded.
“Yes, I can manage.”
Being perpetually broke while living alone had made cooking a necessary skill.
“That’s great. Then you’ll help out in the kitchen for now.”
“Understood.”
Perfect. I’d been craving something specific for a while anyway. Working in the kitchen would give me the ideal chance to finally prepare it.
“If you’re helping, Briel, perhaps the quality of our meals might improve a bit.”
“Definitely! Leave it to me. I actually have a few original recipes up my sleeve.”
“Really? Now that’s exciting to hear.”
Butler Squawk’s wings fluttered in visible delight. I completely understood his enthusiasm.
Indeed, the meals served when I first arrived as a guest at the castle had been impressively high-quality. Unfortunately, I’d learned after signing my contract that such luxurious meals were exclusively reserved for Kalz and his guests.
The meals for employees were painfully basic. Salad and juice for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch, and hearty soup with bread for dinner. It wasn’t that the food tasted bad, but it had two glaring issues.
First, the menu never changed. The ingredients might vary slightly each day, but the core dishes were always the same. Even so, I could endure that—I’d long passed the age of complaining about repetitive meals.
The real problem was the second issue: everything was served cold. I could handle most things, but cold soup was outright cruel. Returning to my room after a long day’s work and sitting down to a bowl of chilled soup nearly drove me to tears.
Given these circumstances, it was only natural for my soul—one born in a land renowned for warm tavern meals—to desperately crave steaming hot gukbap.
“This is the kitchen. The chef should be waiting inside.”
“You’re not coming in, Butler Squawk?”
Strange. Usually, he’d introduce me personally. At my question, Butler Squawk stepped back slightly with a strained smile.
“I have certain… personal reasons preventing me from entering the kitchen. I’ll excuse myself here. Good luck.”
“Oh, all right. Goodbye.”
Was it my imagination, or had Butler Squawk hurried away faster than usual? Shaking my head, I opened the kitchen door alone.
“Excuse me.”
“Welcome.”
Wait…? Why did this voice sound like one from a dubbed movie?
An unexpectedly seductive voice sweetly wrapped around my ears. Spotting its owner perched gracefully atop the counter, I internally screamed in delight.
A cat!
Adorable! A Russian Blue cat wearing a neat white apron!
“I heard about you. You’re the new hire, right?”
The cat gracefully leaped down from the countertop and lightly padded over, stopping right in front of me.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Elizabeth, head of the kitchen here.”
“Oh, I’m Briel. Please take good care of me, Elizabeth sunbae.”
“Oh dear, that’s much too formal. Can you bend down a little?”
At her gentle command, I obediently knelt down to her level. Elizabeth reached out a paw, tenderly brushing it against my cheek.
“You have such a pretty face. How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-two.”
“Oh my, that’s far too young. That’s no good.”
What wasn’t good exactly?
“From now on, just call me Elizabeth. You don’t need the ‘sunbae’ part.”
“All right, Elizabeth.”
“Good boy.”
“Hehe.”
Captivated by her honey-sweet voice, my reply slipped out without a second thought. Elizabeth rewarded me with a soft, fluffy pat on the cheek. The delicate touch of silky fur combined with the soft, jelly-like pads of her paw melted my smile into something foolish.
“How were the meals I’ve prepared so far? Did you like them?”
Honestly, I had plenty of thoughts about the meals, but they all became meaningless in the face of Elizabeth’s gently waving tail.
“Yes, they were delicious.”
“Really? Was the portion size enough?”
“It was perfect.”
I’d recently learned during a fitting in the sewing room that my waist had shrunk by two inches. If I viewed it as dieting, that made it an unexpected success. Besides, interrupting Elizabeth’s pleasant purring for something so trivial didn’t seem right.
“I’m relieved. Honestly, preparing Master Kalz’s meals alone every day is exhausting enough. So naturally, employee meals end up a bit neglected. You understand, right?”
“Of course. Managing the entire kitchen alone is amazing enough already.”
“Thanks for noticing.”
Elizabeth’s eyes gently curved into crescents.
“By the way, are you alone? Where’s Almond?”
“Oh, Butler Squawk? He escorted me here but left right afterward—”
“Hiss!”
A sudden, terrifying hiss escaped her mouth, making me jump. Her gentle absinthe-green eyes now glowed fiercely, like something out of a horror movie. Apparently, hissing wasn’t enough, as she angrily smacked her tail on the floor.
Scary…!
“He ran away again, didn’t he? Such a spineless birdbrain.”
“I-I’m sorry…”
“Oh dear, why are you apologizing?”
Though my timid apology quickly calmed Elizabeth back to her usual self, the image of her sharp teeth remained vividly imprinted on my mind. Seeing a cat hiss up close was indeed a powerful experience I’d prefer never to repeat.
“Forget about that pathetic fellow. Let’s get to work instead. Could you help me prepare the vegetables for lunch?”
“Yes, of course.”
Just what kind of relationship did Butler Squawk and Elizabeth have, anyway? Curiosity gnawed at me, but there was no way I’d risk asking her directly. I was far too afraid she’d hiss again—and I definitely didn’t want to see that twice.
Maybe I’d ask Butler Squawk later, though I wasn’t sure he’d answer either.
Working in the kitchen wasn’t difficult. Elizabeth handled the main tasks like menu selection and cooking, so I naturally took on assisting roles. She mostly assigned me tasks involving strength, water, or knives.
“These paws make using a knife a bit tricky. I can do it, but it takes forever.”
“I can handle anything, Elizabeth, so feel free to pass me anything that’s difficult for you.”
“Oh, such lovely manners to match your lovely face.”
“Should I slice the carrots like this?”
“You even chop beautifully. Thank you, dear.”
Each time I finished a task, Elizabeth rewarded me by gently patting my cheek with her paw, showering me with praise. It felt like getting a special bonus, and it boosted my motivation to work even harder. Truly, this was a great workplace.
After a few days, I finally felt familiar enough with the castle’s kitchen facilities. Perhaps it was time to prepare that dish.
As we finished up dinner preparations, I asked Elizabeth, who was busy tidying up.
“Elizabeth, would it be okay if I used the kitchen privately?”
“What are you planning to make? It’s fine with me, but if it’s a dish you particularly like, do let me know. It might help me plan future menus.”
“Ah, it’s a spicy, hot soup.”
Elizabeth smiled softly.
“I’ll pass. Spicy and hot are definitely not my thing.”
As expected, Elizabeth had a sensitive cat’s tongue. That explained the mystery of why all the employee meals were served cold.
“You’re welcome to use the kitchen anytime outside working hours. Just let me know what ingredients you use later, since I need to keep track of inventory.”
“Thank you so much.”
Perfect. With permission secured, it was time to awaken my inner gukbap-loving soul.
Honestly, I’d never thought of myself as someone overly attached to Korean food. Whenever I’d watched travel shows where celebrities dramatically cried out for kimchi after only a few days abroad, I’d dismissed it as exaggerated theatrics.
But after getting thrown into a world without the slightest trace of Korean cuisine, I quickly realized it wasn’t an act after all.
I desperately missed everything—from side dishes loaded with garlic and red chili flakes, to the familiar flavors of my favorite snack-bar tteokbokki, fried foods, soondae, and even the instant ramyun I used to devour whenever I needed something quick. Especially after nights of drinking, my cravings for a hearty spoonful of spicy kimchi stew packed with pork were almost unbearable.
However, someone like me, who’d never even witnessed kimchi-making firsthand, had no chance of preparing proper kimchi stew.
After numerous attempts to recreate something similar, I’d finally come up with a satisfying alternative—this tomato pork soup currently bubbling away on the stove.
“Ah, smells incredible.”
I’d replaced kimchi’s tangy savoriness with tomatoes and lemon, adding dried chilies to mimic that spicy kick, simmering it all with plenty of pork until it was thick and hearty. This soup eased my homesickness whenever I missed Korean food. I’d cooked it so many times by now that making it had become second nature.
“Yeah, this is exactly it!”
As I took a spoonful for a final taste, nostalgia bubbled forth instinctively. It had the irresistible flavor of a hangover remedy—even though I’d never had one myself.
Frankly, it felt like a waste to eat this alone. However, this dish was far spicier than anything usually served here, and I doubted everyone would appreciate it—especially considering Elizabeth had already firmly rejected it.
“Wait a second, lions are technically cats too, aren’t they?”
Suddenly, an amusing idea crossed my mind, along with a vivid memory of how embarrassed I’d felt lately around Gold—so much so that my poor knuckles had suffered plenty of wall-punching episodes.
With a mischievous grin curling at the corner of my lips, I turned up the stove’s flame and dumped in every last chili pepper I had.
If I was going to do this, I might as well go all-out.
