Chapter 8 Let’s Cook Dinner Together
Who jumped off the building?
Who can jump off a building?
Darien was confused for a moment, and the magic book ended up rushing towards him.
Pluto didn't know what was going on and jumped directly from the open window. The levitation magic was unable to support his rapidly growing weight, so he fell directly and made a hole in the lawn.
"Don't come up and rub against me if you're so dirty." Darien flashed behind Seville and hit Mr. Crow right between the eyebrows with the magic book covered in mud and grass.
Seville reached out and took the brick-thick magic book off his face, leaving a solid red mark on his forehead.
"Hahahahahaha——" Darien laughed with gloating joy.
Sewell let go.
Pluto merrily shook the tassels, staining Darion's wizard robes.
Crows are very vengeful creatures. I hope Mr. Mage can learn from this.
"Um, are you all okay?" Princess Yolanda appeared at the window. She had been there for a while.
It was Leon who just shouted to jump off the building. Darien connected all these things and immediately knew why Pluto fell from the window.
It must be that Princess Yoranda happened to come visit when they were out, so Leon had to let Pluto come out to find them.
But Pluto gained a lot of weight and fell down the stairs, making a hole.
"I'm sorry for being so rude. Please wait a moment. We'll go upstairs now." Darien said, "Find me some new clothes... Never mind, go make some tea first."
"Okay." Sewell nodded, turned sideways as he passed by him, quickly patted his collar twice, then took two quick steps and entered the tower first.
Darien snorted softly, thinking that this would make him forget how his clothes got dirty.
Princess Yolanda was still waiting upstairs, so he quickened his pace to go to the store.
"I brought the letters and manuscripts you need. They've been sitting there for too long, so you need to be very careful when you look at them," Princess Yolanda said. "They're too fragile and could easily turn into dead leaves and fly away like butterflies."
"Thank you very much for your help. Come and have some hot tea. It's the fine tea from Lorenbu, picked by the elves before the first rays of dawn." Darien said with a smile.
"They smell very special, as if they were still on the treetops. I can smell the fresh scent of dew." Princess Yolanda's words were very touching, making Darian feel that his collection of fine tea was not wasted.
Sewell placed another cup of tea in front of Darien, without adding two sugar cubes as usual, because this special tea has a sweet taste in itself, and adding sugar will ruin the flavor.
"I heard that King Soren has gone insane?" Darien began to chat with Princess Yolanda.
"Yes, that's right. It seems this is already a semi-open secret." Princess Yolanda took a sip of tea. "It seems my dear father is about to lose his reputation. Before that, I hope he can get rid of all my troublesome brothers."
"It's time to open the door here to him." Darien also laughed. "He was much younger than you are now, and he made the same wish."
"What did he give?" Princess Yolanda was curious. "His wives?"
Princess Yolanda's joke is devilish, and none of King Soren's wives have a good ending.
A slightly better outcome was to be imprisoned in a monastery for the rest of their lives on the charge of blasphemy. The most miserable one was beheaded after being imprisoned for half a year.
Yolanda's mother was in the middle, she died of illness.
"It's his integrity," Darien said. "He has such a rare and shining quality."
"Then I can quite understand why he became so twisted, but are you sure you didn't buy his kindness along with it?" Princess Yolanda asked her question.
"I can guarantee that I didn't buy his kindness. He once possessed this quality, but the passage of time and the erosion of power completely consumed it," said Darien.
"Humans are so fickle." Sewell sighed softly.
"He was a good monarch and, at rare times, a good father," Princess Yolanda said softly. "Thank you for your hospitality. It's time for me to leave."
"goodbye."
After Princess Yolanda left, Darien and Seville prepared two pairs of silk gloves and delicate silver tweezers. After putting Pluto in solitary confinement, they began to look through the manuscripts left by Cynthia.
I have to say that Orlando is very reliable. There is not only a stack of letters in this box, but also a diary.
There is a seal on the pages of the diary. If you are not a wizard or a witch, you will not be able to detect such a seal at all and will just think it is an ordinary diary.
Darien, with a little curiosity, did not remove the seal for the time being and flipped through a few pages at random.
"Today, it's sunny. I met my fiancé. He is very handsome and polite. I should like him very much..."
"My uncle is here. It's raining, and I'm worried about him."
"The apples were ripe, and they became the apple tarts for my wedding."
…
The sealed page simply records what was seen and done. I wonder what it will become after the seal is removed.
Darien removed the seal on the diary without spending much magic power.
What was recorded above was immediately different.
"The apple hit my pony, and I don't like apples."
"I don't like them very much. Any of them looks at me like an object. Kahlan is different. We've met him before, an older version of him. That's my secret."
"They killed him! They killed him! They killed him! They killed him! They killed him..."
The more Darien flipped through the real diary, the tighter his brows furrowed.
The first half of the diary is peaceful and tranquil, just like the diary of an ordinary girl, while the second half is like a flower that suddenly turns pale and gradually withers. The life in the palace ruined this girl.
Cynthia's diary recorded many important things, and the Karan she recorded in such a loving tone was Avery.
Callan, whose full name is Callan Easton, was a minor noble from the small town of Edgehammer. He and his team died in a murder.
A ridiculous sacrifice.
They were clearly on their way back home. Even if all the honors of battle were taken away by the Scorpion Duke and his guards, there was nothing left that could be taken from them.
However, however... only the dead can cover up the truth, and there happens to be a necromancer who is willing to pay a fee to buy these souls.
One soul is only worth 10 silver coins.
Cynthia's handwriting was shaky and sloppy, and some of the words were blurred and smudged.
Karan and his team were buried forever on that rocky beach, and then the truth slipped by as a joke between the clinking of wine glasses. Her father, her uncle, her husband... They chewed on the blood and flesh of others and fed themselves into bloody power-hungry monsters.
Darien closed the journal.
Sewell gently folded the fragile letters and placed them back into the envelope.
These letters are written for others to read, and a girl's forced smile is not that good-looking.
"Show this diary to Avery, maybe it will help him remember something," said Darien.
"It always feels particularly cruel to let the tragedy happen again," said Sewell.
"Then let's follow the usual practice and tell him about this after dinner. What are we going to prepare for dinner tonight?" Darien asked.
According to custom, the guests whose souls will be collected can enjoy the last supper as a practice.
"How about asparagus and pea soup, roast lamb with rosemary, and sponge pudding with maple syrup? Cynthia said it's Karan's favorite dish," said Sewell.
"That's all. Ask Avery to help in the kitchen before dinner." Darien was still more accustomed to the old name.
So later in the afternoon, all the creatures in the tower, except for those hanging on the wall and unable to move and one who was just making trouble, gathered in the kitchen.
"How can I help?" It was Avery's first time in the kitchen, and everything he saw seemed new to him.
"Oh, child, I think you should help me move these potatoes." Mrs. Fitch was a little covered in dust as she mixed in the potato pile. These big potatoes almost buried her.
"I'll be right there to help you." Avery picked up one potato after another, and finally picked up Mrs. Fitch as well.
Mrs. Fitch looked like a big, stuffed potato in an apron, only with ears and a tail.
"160 grams of sugar, 140 grams of room temperature butter... Where is the cabinet for butter? It's not here, and it's not there." Darian, who is in charge of making desserts, is rummaging through boxes and cabinets at this moment.
"Here." Sewell stopped peeling the lemon and pointed to a small bowl on the table. "It's looking for you too."
Darien grabbed a lemon and threw it in his face.
Sewell caught it with his free hand.
Another lemon followed.
Boom——
Right between the eyebrows.
Mr. Mage pretended nothing happened. Mr. Crow pinched his brows, believing that Mr. Mage would be able to control his crow's mouth next time.
Everyone else in the kitchen pretended to be busy, counting the freckles on the potatoes and removing the bubbles from the boiling water...
Darian found all the ingredients and began to direct the spoon to stir the batter.
Sewell rubbed the peels of several lemons into fine crumbs and slowly squeezed out the lemon juice with a spoon.
The skinned lamb was soaked in rosemary branches and wine. Fitch held the spice jar, and Mrs. Fitch scooped up handfuls of fennel with her little paws and sprinkled them into the wine like sowing seeds.
Avery squatted in front of the fireplace, tending to a kettle half full of green peas.
Everyone was busy with their own things, chatting casually about some ordinary things, from the weather in the wilderness to old nursery rhymes, and the aroma of food slowly overflowed with the chat.
The lamb, soaked in spices and wine, is sizzling over charcoal. Beneath the crispy, browned crust lies tender pink meat filled with juices, which can only be seen when pierced with a knife.
Darian took the soft sponge pudding out of the mold. The sponge-like, fluffy cake had pores of varying sizes, and hot steam was coming out of it.
The maple syrup is boiled in the pot until it becomes thick, and when it is poured over the sponge pudding, it looks like golden magma slowly flowing to the foot of the mountain.
Sewell took the spoon out of the pot. The thick green asparagus and pea soup had a fresh smell, like a meadow after rain, full of life.
As the last supper, there was of course not only this little food on the table. Fragrant oval-shaped buns were also served, as well as a pot of sour cream stewed chicken.
"Tonight is a little unusually grand," Avery said. Although Darien and the others didn't show any unusual emotions, he still noticed something.
"Let's eat first," said Darien.
The meat cleaver in Sewell's hand fell, and the roasted lamb made a crisp snap.
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