9
Natsumi Schwartz successfully secured a seat next to Emilia at the table. But as he sat there in his flawless ensemble for the evening, he secretly made a sour face to himself.
“Don’t let your guard down yet, Subaru.”
—Yeah, yeah, I get it. I won’t slip up.
As his made-up face smiled, Subaru frowned at Puck’s warning voice in his head. It was spirit-induced telepathy—the ultimate form of encrypted communication. With this, Subaru and Puck could coordinate perfectly to create the facade of Natsumi Schwartz.
When Subaru discovered the conspiracy hidden in the night’s dinner party, he went over the intel he’d gathered on the chef and quickly determined that cross-dressing was the only way to go.
Luckily, this wasn’t his first rodeo—he knew what he was doing.
—After all, I flawlessly passed for a girl my first day of high school and had everybody fooled for a whole three days!
His unexpected affinity for makeup and his gender-neutral name of Subaru had been crucial. He even joined a group of girls at school and got dangerously close to living out the rest of his school days as a girl.
“Y’know, something tells me I’d rather not hear more…”
—Yeah, it’ll just open old wounds, so let’s drop it.
Telepathically nodding to his tactful partner, Subaru looked down to make sure his disguise was still in place. He had masked his fierce eyes with dark eyeshadow, and with a combination of false eyelashes and a handy tool, he had attained perfect albeit temporary double eyelids. He had added a dewy luster to his skin with foundation and a contrasting dark lip color, and the long brunette wig had been borrowed from the dressing room. The tight dress that hid his masculine body came from the same room—it likely belonged to a taller maid who once worked at the mansion.
If he ever were to meet this maid, no amount of apologizing could make up for what he did that day. But for now, he owed this mystery maid his gratitude for a perfect Natsumi Schwartz transformation.
Once he had mastered the physical appearance, the mannerisms and movements required to perform the role of a well-bred lady were small potatoes for Subaru. He was more talented than he gave himself credit for.
But there was one element that Subaru could not change, no matter how hard he tried, and that was his voice. That was what caused his prior cross-dressing adventure to fail—his falsetto had cracked catastrophically on the third day.
However, Subaru embodied the lessons he learned that day and managed to overcome the issue with a little help from his spirit friend.
“I am quite looking forward to dinner. Lady Emilia, do you have confidence in your etiquette tonight?”
“Er—me? Ummm…I’m still learning. But I’ll try my best to avoid embarrassing myself.”
“O-ho-ho, excellent. We mustn’t let ourselves get carried away in the splendor of the feast.”
With a hand daintily covering her smiling lips, Lady Natsumi boldly initiated conversation with Emilia. She spoke not with a deep man’s voice but with a husky sort of androgynous voice. This was not Subaru’s doing, but his partner’s—namely, Puck.
Puck had nestled himself in Lady Natsumi’s shawl at her breast and was sneakily speaking instead of Subaru. In a way, Natsumi Schwartz was a ventriloquist performance put on by Subaru and Puck.
“………”
Two people were staring intensely at Lady Natsumi—Ram and Beatrice. From the obvious strain on their faces, they knew Lady Natsumi’s true identity. But it was less the quality of the disguise and more the fact that there was nobody else she could be.
Of course, Rem was staring at Lady Natsumi for the same reason, but in her case, she was using the same mothering gaze she always gave him. It was unclear how she felt about the situation in her heart of hearts, but as she was simply staring quietly and not compromising the facade, she could tentatively be counted as an ally.
And as for Roswaal, the person who set this whole operation in motion, and the adversary they needed to heed most—
“Pfft—hee-hee…”
He was genuinely amused by the farce and seemed to have no intention of blowing Lady Natsumi’s cover. Evidently, Subaru had been spot-on when he’d predicted that Roswaal would not go out of his way to stop them.
Incidentally, Emilia still seemed genuinely oblivious to Lady Natsumi’s true identity, and he was ready to assume he could pull off the charade from start to finish with her. (Because E M T.)
“Dinner is served, my lovelies.”
Dias (the following omitted) returned and carefully served the meal one plate at a time. Silver cloches were removed to reveal whitefish. The sweet aroma was stunning.
“Laute Loix Poisson in Ragudishu sauce.”
He spoke briefly, and not a single word in the dish name was recognizable.
However, no explanation was needed to see how the lustrous gold and green sauces blended as they rested atop the white of the lightly grilled fish. And the warming aroma passing through Subaru’s nostrils seized him by his stomach. Drool pooled in his mouth, and he almost felt faint.
“Wh-whoa there, Subaru!”
—Ah! D-disaster narrowly averted!
Right as Subaru was about to pick up the plate and lap at it like a dog, Puck’s voice brought him to his senses. He had almost ruined his social life, never mind blown his cover. A quick peek confirmed that Emilia was also entranced by her plate, and everyone else at the table showed similar reactions, more or less.
The impending gourmet experience clashed horribly with the chef’s obsession for strictly enforcing good table manners. Its aroma alone threatened to peel away the veil of civilization, awakening the primal instincts that lay beneath. Subaru—nay, Lady Natsumi—swallowed the drool collecting in her mouth and grabbed her knife and fork before anyone else.
“Know what you have to do, Subaru?”
When he heard Puck’s telepathic question, Subaru grinned like a villain and nodded.
—I’ve already come this far. Time to put my money where my mouth is…or fish, I guess. I’ll finish faster than anyone else at this table.
“My, it looks absolutely scrumptious. Almost feels a waste to eat it.”
Synchronizing with her lips, Puck gave Lady Natsumi a graceful yet bold voice. It was crucial that Subaru not do anything to ruin this stylish arrangement, so he kept his cool and focused on his table manners.
He pressed his fork against the fish, cutting a bite-sized piece with his knife. It was grilled to perfection, so tender that it gave way with a gentle press of the fork. The way it danced with the sauce was so visually appetizing that Subaru almost lost control. He held his breath, willing himself to resist the tantalizing anticipation of sumptuous flavors that were just one bite away.
If he let his guard down now, there would be no coming back.
He couldn’t let this glorious feast incapacitate him right when he was supposed to be guiding Emilia. Armed with a steely resolve and a love for Emilia, Subaru readied himself to conquer his plate. He opened his eyes with renewed determination and slowly brought the bite of fish to his lips.
“………”
His order of operations, appearance, movements, elegance, and all other aspects of his performance had been polished to a beautiful sheen…but the moment the fish hit his tongue, his efforts were instantly crushed.
For a moment, Subaru thought his eyes would fall out of his head.
Overwhelming flavor shot through his entire body, shocking his brain, the blood in his veins, every muscle and every bone, down to the cellular level. In that moment, Subaru’s underbaked determination and resolve melted away.
Crushed, humiliated, and utterly defeated, Lady Natsumi quietly slipped out of her chair. She walked over with the click-clack of her heels and stood before Dias (the following omitted).
The chef gave her a dubious look and asked, “Is something the matter?”
She took a quiet breath, then dropped to her knees.
“Please forgive me—I licked the plate clean!”
His head pressed against the floor, Subaru promptly surrendered in his own voice.
“Welp…guess that’s our loss.” Puck muttered telepathically from his hiding spot in Subaru’s bosom. But he was absolutely right. They had failed.
Echoes of Subaru’s emotions reached Puck through their psychic link, so he tasted the defeat just as keenly as the boy. Subaru let those crushing feelings guide him and prostrated himself before Dias.
“That food was freaking amazing. I tried to eat it with poise and grace. But that was utterly impossible. I don’t think anybody could do it. I know we’re supposed to have good table manners, and I absolutely agree. But please consider that maybe it’s also a good thing to talk about the food, smile, laugh, and say how tasty it is while you eat it!”
Unable to see the chef’s face, Lady Natsumi—nay, Subaru—apologized with dogged desperation. It was both an excuse and the bitter complaint of a man defeated by conspiracy, and yet it was also genuine and heartfelt praise. This cooking was so powerful, it robbed people of their manners.
Once Subaru had finished sharing his ridiculous rambling, Dias’s eyes widened in surprise. It was an understandable reaction. But Subaru hoped that if anyone should be axed that evening, it would only be—
“Bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Subaru’s moment of prayer was shattered by the sudden burst of laughter. He jerked his head up and spotted someone shamelessly guffawing by the dining hall entrance. This person overflowing with mirth was short and wore a head covering—
“Ha-ha, I’m terribly sorry. Hearing of my reputation and trying to seduce me at my dinner table with evasive words, surely a fellow can only be so cunning.”
The individual pulled the head cloth up, revealing her face. The young girl’s high-pitched voice and daring smile were at total odds with the oddly archaic way she was talking.
When the person they assumed to be Dias’s assistant made her grand entrance, Subaru was at a loss for words. But the girl studied Subaru’s blank stare, bared her teeth in a satisfied smile, and said, “I don’t encounter many dinner guests who let my cuisine defeat them and respond with such sincerity. Oh, Marquis, you are a sly fellow. So this is what you meant when you said I would enjoy myself!”
“I figured the honest reactions would be mooost suitable. Personally, I was expecting it to come from someone else…but, aaaaall’s well that ends well.”
As the girl cackled, Roswaal responded in kind with a knowing smirk. Subaru gave them both a confused look, still not following.
“All sorts of rumors circulate about my master, but they’re nothing but lies and fabrications. My master deliberately allows those tall tales to spread and doesn’t refute any of them, because she finds it terribly enjoyable to use her divine cooking to torment the poor souls who put too much stock in rumors.”
The one who answered Subaru in his nasally voice was Dias (the following omitted)—though of course it was now obvious that he was not who he had claimed to be.
“So, does that mean the real Dias—the following omitted—is…?”
“’Tis I. By the by, the rumor about my prodigious anger when I’m not addressed by my full name? That one’s true. I suggest you commit it to memory so that you may say it without error.”
Sticking out her chest with pride, the girl gave the floor a mighty stomp and declared, “My name is Dias Lepunzo Elemanso Oplane Fatsbalm VI! Your struggle against the rumors and your overwhelming defeat at the hands of my cooking was a joy to watch! Splendid work!”
As the girl—the real Dias—cackled, all Subaru could do was continue staring blankly into space. The real Dias walked over to him, extended a hand, and helped him to his feet. Before he knew it, she had escorted him back to his seat with flawless poise.
“Rather bold costuming, if I do say so myself—also splendid! I have no choice but to counter with my specialty! Come, Rodriguez!”
“Yes, Master!”
With that declaration, Dias raced back into the kitchen with her apprentice in tow.
The banquet resumed, and the next set of dishes was brought to the table—or that was what happened in theory, but the actual events that followed were as turbulent as a hurricane.
“Well, then! Noooow that we have passed the esteemed legendary chef’s trial by fire, let the banquet resume. To Suba—Lady Natsumi, let’s raise a glass to her sacrifice.”
Seizing the moment, Roswaal raised a glass and toasted Subaru’s glorious death in battle.
“Good going, Barusu—I mean, Lady Natsumi Schwartz.”
“You were a splendid disaster. But Brother was as lovely as always, I suppose.”
“Lady Natsumi, you’re so lovely. A very good transformation. I would love for you to give your Rem some fashion and cosmetics tips sometime.”
When Ram, Beatrice, and Rem followed Roswaal’s cheers with their own comments as they toasted Suabaru’s epic failure, Subaru’s only wish was to find a hole he could bury himself in.
And as Subaru wrestled with his roiling emotions, Emilia patted him on the shoulder and said, “I don’t really understand what happened, but can I ask just one question?”
Sensing the trepidation in Emilia’s preamble, Subaru awkwardly muttered, “Go ahead…” while he awaited his doom.
And then Emilia pressed a finger to her cheek, and with a sweet but confused smile, she said, “Your voice sounds really similar to Subaru’s… Have we met before?”
Right at the moment of his greatest defeat yet, Emilia mercilessly delivered the absolute worst response possible.
And still in Subaru’s—nay, Lady Natsumi’s—bosom, Puck smirked and telepathically delivered the final punch line of the day.
“Womp, womp.”
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