Chapter 141 - The Lion and The Summer Bloom
“Now, please sample the actual expedition rations here.”
After the presentation, the spacious lounge in the central building was turning into a dining gathering for the attendees.
Strangely enough, Volf had taken the lead, directing the attendants and maids.
During the preparation for the presentation, Dahlia had mentioned it would be nice to have a functional space, but the idea of borrowing the central building had seemed impossible.
Why were there so many compact magic stoves lined up on the tables alongside the expedition cooking stoves? There were definitely more than enough for everyone.
When Dahlia glanced back at Ivano for an explanation, he silently shook his head. He hadn’t been informed either.
“These are the previous expedition rations, and these are the proposed new ones. Please try both and compare. After that, we’d like you to sample various ingredients and share your thoughts.”
This was no longer the face of a Monster Subjugation Force member but that of a Rossetti Company salesperson.
Volf’s smooth explanation made it clear he was far more skilled at presentations than Dahlia. It was a bit frustrating.
On the table were two trays—one with simple expedition rations, the other with what appeared to be much tastier fare. The only exception was the wine, served not in leather pouches but in bottles and glasses.
The reactions from the finance department varied—some were shocked by the hard, dried black bread, others struggled to chew the jerky with bewildered expressions.
In contrast, the unit members took one bite of the old rations before eagerly firing up the smoked bacon and sausages, all wearing smiles so enthusiastic it made Dahlia worry the lounge would reek of food.
Still, as everyone ate and talked, the distance between them seemed to shrink.
At this point, Dahlia’s presentation could be considered a success.
But today, she had one more thing to do besides the presentation—getting Gild to retract his “pet cat” remark.
On the day she’d been called a “pet cat,” Dahlia had been concerned about the maid who’d stained her skirt and asked Volf about her well-being.
She didn’t want to believe Gild would do anything drastic, but if the maid had been forcibly sent abroad, it would have been cruel.
However, it turned out the maid had resigned voluntarily, received her wages and severance, and returned safely to her family home in the royal capital.
Dahlia had overreacted, and she felt guilty for making Volf go through the trouble of investigating.
Now was the perfect opportunity to approach Gild, the finance department head.
Straightening her back, Dahlia steeled herself and walked toward him.
Ivano followed slightly behind, and the Monster Subjugation Force members were also in the room.
Even if he refused to retract his words, she just wanted to make her stance clear.
“Do you have business with me, Chairwoman Rossetti?”
Gild had dismissed even his attendants and sat alone at the table—almost as if he’d been waiting for her.
“Yes. I’ve come to request that you retract your statement from the other day—the one where you called me a ‘pet cat.’”
“Oh, I’ll retract it. Chairwoman Rossetti, I hereby retract my previous remark about you being a ‘pet cat.’”
“I accept your retraction.”
His immediate compliance left her deflated.
Staring into his amber eyes, she noticed the faintest curl at the corner of his lips before he stood and gave her an elegant bow.
“Following the retraction, I’ll also apologize. I, Gildofan Diels, shall resign as the royal finance department head to atone for my disrespect toward Chairwoman Dahlia Rossetti. Will that suffice?”
“Huh?”
The man’s sudden declaration froze Dahlia in place.
“My disrespect toward Chairwoman Rossetti, as well as the matter with the maid—is my head not enough to balance the scales?”
“What are you talking about...?”
Gild’s dark joke made Dahlia laugh involuntarily.
A commoner like her causing the royal finance department head to lose his position over mere rudeness?
This man must just be terrible at sincere apologies—perhaps the stubborn type.
Even if he were serious, Dahlia wouldn’t feel the slightest bit of joy at his resignation.
Gild, Grato, and his younger brother, who had died after an expedition—she didn’t know the details, but she seemed to have been dragged into their affairs.
Now that he’d properly apologized, rather than having him resign, there was something else she wanted from him.
“Marquis Diels, in that case, instead of an apology, let’s just pretend it never happened. And from now on, please allocate the Monster Subjugation Force’s budget correctly.”
“...You don’t intend to have me step down?”
“No. You’re still young, so I’d like you to continue serving as finance department head for many years to come. Also... if it’s not too much to ask, could you speak with Captain Grato?”
“...Understood.”
Though his face twisted as if he’d bitten something bitter, Gild nodded.
If he heard the unit’s current situation directly from Grato, it might help him understand the budget needs better.
Gild silently returned to his seat.
On the table before him sat an unused expedition stove.
But no one approached. Sensing the distance everyone kept, Dahlia turned the stove on herself.
“What are you doing?”
It seemed strange to him that Dahlia had started grilling the ingredients. Gild was eyeing her with a suspicious look.
“I’d like to introduce you to one of the new expedition meal options. This... is the current ration.”
Picking up a piece of dried black bread from the silver tray, Gild began chewing relentlessly.
That bread was notoriously hard to bite through. Worried it might choke him, his attendant hastily prepared water and red wine.
Meanwhile, Dahlia cranked up the stove’s heat and grilled one of the ingredients.
As a savory aroma filled the air, she gently transferred it to a white plate.
“Would you like to try this?”
“What is it?”
“This is dried barracuda. It’s suitable for short-term expeditions.”
It was a high-quality, tender dried barracuda—salty enough to eat as-is.
Dried barracuda didn’t have a strong flavor. At the end of summer, it was not particularly fatty, but that gave it a more refined taste.
With that in mind, she figured even someone like the noble-born Gild might find it reasonably enjoyable.
“Dried barracuda...”
The butterflied, grilled dried fish was likely unfamiliar to a marquis like Gild.
With a deeply conflicted expression, Gild began poking at it with a knife and fork. Still, the fact that he tried at all suggested he was making an effort for her sake.
“...Surprisingly decent. This might pair better with ale than wine.”
“Eastern liquor would also work well.”
The words slipped out as she watched his stern expression soften slightly. Apparently, Gild could hold his liquor.
“I see. Eastern liquor does sound like a good match... Chairwoman Rossetti, had you served this with drinks first, you might’ve secured the contract at the initial price.”
“That... might have been a better strategy.”
In terms of presentation order, maybe it would’ve been better to start with something that had more impact.
Dahlia’s eyes grew distant as she wondered what the point of her desperate presentation had been.
Not to mention, she’d stumbled over her response to Grato’s proposal.
No one had laughed, but the memory alone was mortifying.
Honestly, she wanted to return to the Green Tower right away.
She wanted to grill dried barracuda, sip dry eastern liquor, and talk about today’s events with Volf.
“I was joking... I’ll personally cover the deficit from this price difference.”
“No, it’s fine. I’d rather not risk the name not being engraved properly. It’s just that, in terms of presentation, I was thinking starting with a tasting might have had a stronger impact.”
“Well, if you’d started with that, it might’ve made the following explanations harder to get across.”
“I see... In that case, would it have been better to serve both the usual expedition rations and this new option side by side to everyone in the finance department, letting them taste while I explained with the documents beside them?”
“Eating while listening to explanations... No, that might’ve been distracting. It’s better to separate them.”
Before she knew it, they’d fallen into a discussion about presentation methods.
All the while, Gild meticulously picked at the barracuda.
Before she knew it, Ivano had brought over another plate with extra barracuda.
“How long does this barracuda keep?”
As Dahlia started grilling the second piece, Gild muttered the question.
“Two days as-is. With a preservation bag and ice magic stones, about ten days. Though... not everyone likes fish, so we can’t rely on it entirely. But having options beyond jerky might help people eat even when exhausted.”
“I see... Judging by your reaction, you’ve already heard about my brother?”
“Ah... I’m not sure what to say, but... it must have been difficult.”
“I heard about your father’s sudden passing and what happened afterward today. That... must have been hard for you as well.”
He didn’t say who’d told him.
But his voice carried the same pain of losing family abruptly that Dahlia knew too well.
“Chairwoman Rossetti, do you have any wishes for the future?”
“Well... I’d like the Monster Subjugation Force to have proper meals, rest, and return safely from now on.”
Gild paused mid-sip of his wine.
What he was asking about was future convenience—money, titles, or political backing.
But Dahlia couldn’t quite grasp it.
Right now, her only concern was when to flip the barracuda in front of her.
“...I see. You’re the squad’s ‘Summer Bloom,’ aren’t you?”
“Goodness, no! That doesn’t suit me at all!”
Dahlia vehemently denied the sudden comparison.
“Summer Bloom”—it was a metaphor for a dazzling, beautiful woman, the kind everyone admired.
The description felt utterly alien to her.
“Oh! There’s a saying that goes ‘I would even ask a cat for help,’ so if anything, I’d rather be a cat!”
The “pet cat” remark still fresh in her mind, she blurted it out without thinking—then immediately stiffened.
After finally making progress, what if Gild took it as sarcasm?
Worried, she glanced at him, only to find him wide-eyed.
Then, covering his mouth with one hand, he burst into laughter as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Well said… No, you’re no cat. You may look delicate, but you’re more like a ‘lion’ guarding the unit.”
“W-Wait, now I’m a ‘lion’?!”
Dahlia’s voice bordered on a shriek.
No etiquette book for nobles mentioned comparing women to “lions.”
Was this praise, an insult, or sarcasm? She had no idea.
Right before Dahlia’s eyes, Gild was still unable to stop laughing.
His laughter was so intense it brought tears to the corners of his eyes, and it didn’t seem like it would subside anytime soon.
・・・・・・・
“Chairwoman Rossetti managed to get the finance department head to retract his statement. Impressive.”
“More than that—she’s stripped him to the bone, hasn’t she?”
“I don’t think she’s doing it on purpose...”
At the vice-captain and the veteran knight’s words, Volf responded with a wry smile.
He’d been listening to Dahlia and Gild’s conversation the entire time with enhanced hearing.
He’d wanted to stand beside her, but Ivano was already positioned diagonally behind her. Behind Gild, Randolph had been keeping watch from the start.
Grato had also moved to a nearby table, observing the situation.
Until just now, Volf had been engaging with the younger finance department members, serving food and making conversation where he could.
He’d asked his brother for tips on “getting acquainted with others” and tried to follow them, but it was harder than expected. Building connections wasn’t something that could be done half-heartedly.
Even this venue had only become available because his brother casually mentioned this morning, “The central building’s lounge is free.”
Honestly, Volf suspected it wasn’t “free” so much as “cleared” through his brother’s influence.
But if it meant people could try the expedition stove, he’d gratefully take the opportunity.
For the ingredients, he’d consulted Grato. Since the expedition stoves alone wouldn’t be enough, he’d borrowed compact magic stoves from the barracks.
And now, the lounge buzzed with lively tasting sessions.
“Still, wanting to engrave names on the stoves... Now that’s quite romantic.”
The veteran knight chewed his smoked bacon as he mused.
“It certainly is romantic. If I remember right, it comes from an old custom in the early days of the kingdom—when women would send men off to war. The embroidery on the back of their clothing meant, ‘I want to support your back as you fight,’ didn’t it?”
“Ah, yes. When my wife and I first started dating, she made a small embroidery of her name on the back of my undershirt before an expedition.”
“What a heartwarming story. I’m envious.”
Listening to their exchange, Volf froze mid-grill of his salted kraken.
“This time, Chairwoman Rossetti is ‘showing her support’ for the entire Monster Subjugation Force. We’re truly grateful.”
“...Yes, we are.”
Grizelda’s cheerful voice left Volf with little else to say but a nod.
After an oddly long silence, the older knight offered him red wine.
“Volf, you’ve really got a ‘frightening woman’ at your side, haven’t you?”
“She’s a friend of mine. Though... I suppose when she’s angry, she’s not the easiest person to endure.”
He’d teased her during conversations only to be scolded, brawled with Marchella only to be reprimanded.
Looking back, he’d caused Dahlia a lot of trouble.
“If even you find her hard to handle, then perhaps ‘lion’ isn’t so far off?”
At Grizelda’s words, Volf glanced at Dahlia again.
The composed confidence she showed during the presentation was nowhere to be seen now—she was struggling to flip the barracuda, and even the grill mesh had stuck to it. She was desperately trying to peel it off.
Smiling, Volf answered the vice-captain.
“No, she’s exactly what her name suggests—a ‘Summer Bloom.’”
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