Chapter 22

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What if he says he doesn't like the food right in front of her? That would hurt her feelings.

"I see."

However, things turned out differently than the butler had imagined. The duke sitting at the table immediately picked up his fork and stuck it in the pancake. Then he cut it up and put it in his mouth.

'He ate it!'

Still, he seemed to eat it for the sake of sincerity. While the butler was stroking his chest, the duke once again stabbed the souffle with his fork.

One bite, two bites. As the number of meals increased, the people's expressions in the room changed. They all looked surprised.

'Is this the power of love?'

The butler admires the scene.

"Isn't it delicious?"

In response to the question, the butler even took out a handkerchief to wipe the flowing tears without himself knowing.

"Yes."

The duke said the food was delicious! That is the answer that never comes out. Until now, most of his comments are negative.

"It's not delicious."

"Tastes like trash."

"It's like dirt."

People were thrilled to hear that the food was delicious for the first time. It was said that love transcends everything, and it seemed to allow the Duke to eat food.

"Love is beautiful."

The butler said so and pressed his handkerchief against his eyes. It was a moment when many misunderstandings piled up. It was also a moment of resentment for someone.

***

Bang!

"What?"

The tall man who had just cut the chicken asked with a cold expression. The maid, looking at the trembling blade stuck in the chopping board, unknowingly took a step back.

"T-the duke said you don't have to prepare his meals anymore."

"Say it again."

"He said you don't have to prepare his meal."

Now the maid looked like she was about to cry.

"But what about the duke's meal?"

"There's someone who's going to prepare it for him."

The maid took one more step back. She couldn't help but be terrified when a tall, dreadful man spoke that way.

"There's a chef besides me?"

"W-well, I guess you can say that."

The chef's eyes got colder, and the maid started to tremble.

"That's enough, chef! She's going to cry."

The man with the brown-colored hair had a sour look.

"Garth, I'm not angry."

"Who would believe that?"

Garth, a man with brown hair, said with a look of bewilderment.

"You may leave. I'll explain it to the chef."

"Thank you!"

The maid immediately bowed and rushed out.

"Garth!"

"Why are you spewing your anger to an innocent maid?"

At that, the chef turned and glared at the cutting board.

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