“I wish to learn the identity of the maker of this particular loaf of bread – that’s it.”

Suspecting that something might have been wrong with his phrasing he asked again.

“!!!”

No one moved – some of the present people straight-up looked as if they stopped breathing.

“…seriously…?”

It was getting ridiculous and Zoemi wanted to start preparing the food for lady Miriette – this whole cold shoulder treatment felt unpleasant and completely undeserved, were they bullying him? Was that the case?

They wanted to kick the guy sticking out back into the line?

He was not only the attendant of the daughter of the esteemed Espine family – but also a student – the academy’s staff bullying a single student was straight up ridiculous!

“I politely ask for the one who made this bread to speak out. Now, if you may.”

Zoemi’s expression grew darker and put his hands together – away from any dangerous objects – to show that he does not have any evil intentions…

…but what signals he wanted to send, and what signals he was sending out were two different things.

“It was him, the washer kid! He wasted good ingredients to make that and snuck it into the stove we had the proper loaves bake!”

“Uwagh!”

…as proven within the next five seconds, as somebody shouted and pushed a brown-haired youngster to the front so roughly that the boy fell down.

|Geez, what an awful attempt to undermine a talented baker!|

Zoemi frowned and walked toward the youngster – who under closer inspection seemed to be around the black-haired attendant’s age, but it was difficult to say for sure because of how skinny the brown-haired baker was.

“I see…”

|Either thirteen or fourteen years old… Probably only works and sends all money to his family…|

Zomei nodded, kneeling by the boy and reaching out to him.

After all, to say that the light-brown-haired boy was skinny was an understatement – the young baker looked like he would snap in half in Zoemi even breathed slightly stronger towards him…

|…wasn’t the kitchen staff supposed to be well fed at least, or was that a thing only in the Espines castle?”

Zoemi thought to himself while reaching out for the white bread and showing it off to the light-brown-haired boy who looked as if he was going to burst into tears at any given moment.

“Did you make this?”

He asked lightly shaking the leaf in front of the boy’s face.

“Y-yes, your lordship…!”

“Oh~?”

Hearing the boy himself confirm it Zoemi face stretched in a smile – though because of his burns it looked more scary than reassuring – and started patting the kid’s head…!

“Good boy! It’s delicious! Every morning I want you to make sure to prepare at least one loaf of that bread for my master, lady Espine.”

“!!!!!!!!!!!”

Everyone in the kitchen – except for Zoemi and Veo – let out a collective gasp – including the young baker himself.

“I think my master would also appreciate the taste – can I have you make an additional one for the first prince Bellcephora?”

Veo peeked at the boy from over the scarred attendant and said in an emotionless voice as she clearly collected herself already.

“You hear that… umm… what’s your name?”

Zoemi cheered before suddenly realizing that the young baker never introduced himself, so he decided to allow him to make up for the mistake.

“I-I’m Patishi, sir!”

The light-brown-haired boy spoke up in exasperation fidgetting nervously.

“You hear that, Patishi? Each morning you have to prepare at least two loaves of that bread for my master, lady Miriette and for her master, the first prince Horeo! Congratulations on your promotion!”

The black-haired attendant put his other hand on Patishi’s shoulder and nodded.

“HAH!?”

Hearing the terrifying-looking youth’s words Patishi squeaked like a dog toy.

“B-but, kind sir, he’s only a washer boy, not even a kitchen hand…!”

Someone, probably the same person who has pushed Patishi before, exclaimed in anger.

“Hmmm…?”

Zoemi straightened his back and glared at all the gathered people with contempt.

“Excuse me, I’m talking to the new official baker of the future royal couple – show some god-damn respect you uncultured brute!”

“!!!!!!”

After scoffing at all the members of the annoying staff, the black-haired attendant turned back to the light-brown-haired boy who looked as if he was slightly dizzy and it wouldn’t be odd for him to think that it was all a dream from which he was dreading to wake up…

“Now, return to your quarter – you start tomorrow and you better be rested. Don’t worry about a thing.”

The scarred attendant had propped him up and declared with no hesitation.

“Y-yes, sir! Thank you!”

The boy got up and run from the kitchen with tears in his eyes, as he could not believe his luck.

“Hmmm~ Hmm~ Hmmmm~|

Zoemi returned to his spot, humming, and leaned towards Veo.

“Hey, miss Veo, when you will give the prince his breakfast, could you talk to him about the situation we just had on our hands?”

He asked in a hushed voice making sure that no one would overhear him and realize that he alone does not have enough power to grand godhood to a single mortal.

“Should I ask him to make that boy an official baker?”

The short girl looked up at him and asked.

“Yes.Exactly. Also, tell him I’m calling for a favor for – that time.”

“…?”

Hearing him be so vague Veo looked at Zoemi furrowing her brows, expecting an explanation.

“No, seriously – just tell him that I want him to do it as the return of a favor for that time – he will get it.”

After that declaration, in equal measures mysterious and disturbing, Zoemis started to skillfully chop the vegetables and slice the bread and fry the egg.

“…”

*WHAM*

“…!”

Meanwhile, Veo took a knife, then took a beetroot, she put the beetroot on the chopping board and chopped at it with far too much power.

“Hey, miss Veo, what even was tha…?!”

Alarmed by the noise Zoemi took his eyes from the frying pan and almost had a heart attack.

Veo’s hand red flesh was exposed and the dark blood-red liquid was dripping from the blade she was holding.

” Oh, no! Veo!”

Zoemi panicked took away Veo’s knife and grabbed her hand.