When the carriage-cage finally stopped again it was sunset, and Leo was more dead than alive with his stomach in turmoil and delighted to be finally about to be thrown into the prison or the torture room. At least it would have stood still.

Chevel immediately approached him, opened the door and tied him again like a salami before loading him on his shoulder.

“I wonder about the highest and most massive enemies. Do you still carry them like this?” said Leo, with the little voice that he was still able to pull out. That position wasn’t helping his nausea.

“Shut up” the knight admonished him.

“Okay... last question: the tortures are already done in the evening or I can sleep a little first?” Leo knew he had to play along, but he couldn't not speak. It was one of his weaknesses.

And talking helped him fight the nausea.

“You're the most unbearable person I've ever had the misfortune of interacting with” Chevel muttered, irritated, but without answering.

“Well, the dislike is mutual” Leo whispered, trying not to be heard.

Chevel probably heard him, because when he put Leo down, it was much more abrupt than necessary.

“Oh, my coccyx!” Leo lamented, biting his lip to stifle the pain.

He was betting all he had (which at the moment wasn't much, to tell the truth) that he would soon get a big bruise.

Since for a second he had actually seen the stars, it took him a while to realize where he had been thrown.

It wasn't a dusty prison, as he'd expected, but it looked like a small… kitchen?

Leo looked around for a few seconds, as far as he was allowed by the ropes that held his hands and feet in place, then returned to look at the knight, who was staring at him with his arms crossed and very annoyed eyes.

“There are fewer mice than I thought in this prison” Leo commented, trying to make finger guns, but unable because of his tied hands.

"Oh, Jahlee, give me the strength not to kill him," Chevel said, rolling his eyes.

Jahlee… probably a deity. Nice, one more piece of information.

Leo prayed that they would really give Chevel the strength not to kill him, but he avoided expressing the hope out loud.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and a couple of women appeared, dressed as maids exactly as seen in manga and manhwa. Wow, how strange.

They carried heavy sacks of unknown contents on their backs.

“Good evening, Messer Chevel. I came to bring the required ingredients, as ordered by your majesty Prince Daryan” the eldest of all, an old woman whose sharp eyes denoted great leadership and experience, bowed to the knight and announced what she had come to do.

“Nice to see you again, Mildred. May Jahlee protect you” Chevel returned the greeting elegantly.

So when he wanted he could also be nice. Wow, Leo hadn’t expected it.

“May Jahlee protect you too, sir” Mildred smiled.

Then, as the other women placed the ingredients in the kitchen, she looked around.

“So, where is the new recruit?” she asked curiously.

Her smile faded when she noticed the tied man. “Her?” she asked, pointing at Leo.

“Him” Chevel replied coldly, marking the masculine form.

The waitress wrinkled her nose, while the others leaned out to see him, curious and surprised.

But seriously, no man had ever started cooking in that place?! What if Leo had talked about women in the army and men who stayed home to take care of the house, would they have had a panic attack from the shock?! What a narrow mindset! And also… ironic to think that in the real world the high-ranking culinary world was controlled by men... a bit like all working sets, to tell the truth.

"Is this a joke?" Mildred asked, softly but loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I’m only following the orders of His Majesty Prince Daryan” Chevel shrugged. You could see a mile away that he didn't approve of those orders.

More than anything, Leo wondered why the prince had decided to give him a chance, especially after the outburst. Maybe he wanted to test him? Well, Leo was sure he could pass any test with his cooking skills.

Though…

“I don't know if it is because I am a man and therefore inferior, but if I have to cook, and as I understand it I have to cook, I am sorry to inform you that it is quite difficult for me with tied hands and feet” he pointed out to those present, raising his hands to make his impediment even more clear.

Chevel sighed, and cut the ropes that held Leo bound, both hands and feet, with a clean swipe of the sword.

Rubbing his wrists, Leo got up, and looked at the ingredients brought by the waitresses.

Eggs, milk and flour... wait a moment.

Ohhhh, he had a guardian angel disguised as a princess!

Although… they said it was the prince who ordered that stuff.

“So... let me understand, I have to cook?” he asked to be sure, measuring the ingredients, checking the pans and utensils and looking for something else he could use to invent a bit.

Given the quality of what he could use, the difficulty level was 'one-on-one pressure test'.

In fact, a bit of tension was starting to rise.

“Either that, or you admit you lied” Chevel provoked him, with his hand on his sword.

There was probably some deity that was actually stopping him from making a massacre, because his eyes showed a clear murderous intent.

Leo had actually lied, but not about that, so he rolled up his sleeves, and started preparing the ingredients.

Crepes were perhaps the easiest recipe in the entire universe. Even I, the writer, know how to make them, so Leo would have won easily. But perhaps too easily? If he had had some cocoa or some fruit he could have made a crepes cake, or some nice composition.

After all, the plating was almost as important as the taste.

And he wasn't cooking for his high school mates, but for the royal family.

Although the prince deserved nothing, he wanted to make a good impression on the princess.

He began by reviewing the ingredients and placing them in front of a wooden bowl. Then he checked the bags better, and barely rejoiced to find cocoa, vanilla and sugar.

Perhaps with milk he would also be able to prepare whipped cream to put on the crepes.

“Is there any fruit?” he asked, out of curiosity.

Everyone in the room was staring at him, checking every single movement.

No one answered.

“Okay, I was just asking” Leo raised his hands in surrender, and began to mix the ingredients, calmly and trying to ignore the people who were staring at him.

To concentrate better he began to whistle, and just danced to himself, as if he were in his own kitchen, making crepes for his sister and mother.

“Is this a magical ritual?” Mildred asked Chevel, shocked.

“Almost certainly, stay back” replied the knight, ready to intervene if sparks were fired.

After finishing the dough, and having mixed it as much as possible to prevent lumps from forming, Leo covered it with a cloth that looked the cleanest of those available, and placed everything as close as possible to the window in the absence of a fridge.

Then he took advantage of the waiting time to make chocolate, whipped cream, and other small toppings to make his vision come true.

After about twenty minutes, he resumed the dough, and after putting the pan on the stove, he began to cook the crepes. He had also put cocoa into the dough to make them directly into chocolate, a very personal specialty of his.

In all this, some very brave maids had approached to better observe his movements, and seemed enchanted admiring him.

Mildred and Chevel were still wary, ready to sprint at any moment to stop whatever he was doing.

But Leo paid no attention to them, he paid no attention to anyone.

When he cooked he was in his element, and there was no world around him.

For him, cooking was not just a passion or a hobby, it was a form of art, the closest thing to magic that existed.

...no, well, considering he ended up in an alternate universe, there were probably more magical spells than a well-cooked dish, but the point was that making something good from raw ingredients was a form of magic, in some ways.

Leo unleashed all his tricks for those crepes. Weird shapes, from the simplest ones like a heart or a star, to real small paintings that represented characters from cartoons or video games.

What could they understand anyway, right?

Eventually, a lot more crepes came out than he bargained for, and considering he had nothing to measure the doses and had gone by eye, it wasn't that unexpected.

He prepared a plate with the finest, and left the others on a plate.

It was late in the evening when he was finally done, so as his stomach rumbled a lot, he took the worst of it and ate them with a light garnish.

Wow, they were the best he'd ever done.

Or maybe he was just hyper-hungry since he had only eaten one pancake and some stale bread all day.

“So… do you want some?” he asked, turning to the spectators who remained staring at him all the time without being absent or distracted for even a second. Leo didn't know if it was dedication or just immense suspicion, but he tried to be proud of it. Maybe he had kept them attached to the screen with his culinary charisma. The more interested maids approached with longing eyes, but Mildred hastened to stop them, grabbing them by the bows on the back of their dresses.

“It is forbidden to taste food intended for the royal family. Every good cook knows this” she reminded her subordinates, then glaring at Leo, who still had his mouth full and a chocolate stain in one corner.

“If you don't taste it, how do you know if it came out well?” asked Leo, obviously.

Mildred jumped, caught off guard.

Chevel interrupted any possible discussion.

“You, take the plate and follow me!” he encouraged Leo, who did what he ordered and already began to imagine what reaction the prince might have.

Worst-case scenario, he would have spat it all out saying “And you call this cooking?! I'll give you twenty lashes as punishment!” and then he would have killed him.

…But the crepes were great, no sane person could have thought they weren't.

So the best-case scenario, which was the prince bowing at Leo’s feet, taking his hand and asking him with bright eyes if he could become his official cook was much more plausible, right?