My name was Mikel.
I had noticed it for some time, but Alfred-kun possessed some truly peculiar fixations. Whether it was the outhouses, the beds, or the baths, he was obsessed with them to a degree that frequently left me bewildered. That said, I wasn't particularly troubled by it since I came to no harm. In fact, I reaped nothing but benefits. I was grateful that the outhouses were always clean, and his plush beds were the height of comfort. While I had never been in the habit of bathing before, I eventually reached a point where I couldn't settle down unless I washed every single day. A clean body was a wonderful thing.
However, some of his fixations did occasionally cause me grief. The boats, for instance. Due to various circumstances, Alfred-kun had taken over the management of an uninhabited island. Since a boat was required to reach it, Alfred-kun insisted—for reasons known only to him—on building his own. I did what I could to help him, of course.
The first boat was constructed by lashing thin wood together. It floated, but it was clearly the work of an amateur. On the way to the island, it was smashed to pieces by high waves. I honestly thought I was going to die. I couldn't swim, after all. I liked to think I deserved praise for not screaming and crying in terror. I owed a debt of gratitude to the local fisherman who had come to our rescue.
Reflecting on that failure, we built the next boat using thick logs. We bound them together securely with heavy rope. While this one was sturdy enough to withstand the waves, it was so heavy that we couldn't row it properly. We barely moved a distance that could have been easily walked from the shore. The members of the Sea Race watched us with very strange expressions.
Next, he gave up on gathering separate logs and tried to hollow out a single massive trunk. It looked magnificent, but after it capsized for the umpteenth time, even Alfred-kun finally gave up. Those were the fixations that caused me trouble. Although, perhaps there was a benefit after all, as the experience forced me to learn how to swim. I could manage short distances now, driven purely by the desire not to drown.
The curious thing was that every time he failed, Alfred-kun would simply rent a proper boat to get to the island. Since he was tending a field there, not going wasn't an option. But I couldn't help but wonder—if he was going to rent a boat anyway, wouldn't it have saved a lot of time, labor, and dry clothes if he had just done that from the start? I never said it out loud, though. A man’s fixations were important.
Apparently, he was planning to add a sail to his next boat. It wasn't a bad idea. I only hoped he would successfully reach the island in a hand-built vessel before I became skilled enough to simply swim the whole way there.
Alfred-kun had an unexpectedly delicate side as well. There was a time when he had a bit of a dispute with the residents of a certain town. Or rather, it was less of a dispute and more of a failure in communication. We had been walking through town to buy boat materials when we were accosted by three burly men.
"Lend us some money, kid. We’re in a bit of a bind," they had said.
They ignored me entirely, likely because Alfred-kun looked far wealthier. I understood that much, but had they not seen the sword at his hip? Or did they simply take him for a weakling? Alfred-kun was skilled enough to spar with O'Brien-sama. Even if they had the advantage in numbers, he could have won without even drawing his weapon.
I stood there thinking a preemptive strike was the best move, but Alfred-kun didn't lash out. Instead, he wore a composed, arrogant smile as he grabbed a handful of coins from his purse and scattered them across the dirt.
"If you want them, pick them up," he had commanded.
I assumed he was provoking them into a fight. I took a step back to stay out of the way, making sure I could flee if they targeted me. But the three men completely betrayed our expectations. They fell to their knees right there in front of him, weeping as they scrambled for the coins.
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" "With this, we can finally buy food!" "Our brothers and sisters won't have to go hungry now!"
It turned out they were genuinely desperate for money. They thanked him profusely and told us they could be found near the south side pier of the port if we ever needed help. In the face of such genuine need, Alfred-kun’s act of scattering the coins like a villain was... well, it wasn't something to be proud of. It wasn't his fault, though. Those three had looked like thugs no matter how you sliced it.
Regardless, Alfred-kun had reverted to his usual self, become visibly depressed, and shut himself in his room. He wasn't the type to just shrug off a failure like that. It was an episode that proved just how sensitive he really was. He became much more cautious after that. He eventually had to return to his family home to recover his spirits, which was probably for the best. While he was gone, I suffered quite a bit because I couldn't eat his cooking. It was a painful time. I had even considered going with him. Delicious food was a terrifying thing.
Alfred-kun was a master in the kitchen. Once he began trading with the Round-faced Fox race, his repertoire grew significantly thanks to the new ingredients. Because of this, the princes refused to leave his side. I understood their feelings, but I found it hard to accept the complaints from the Royal Castle cooks, who were at their wits' end because the princes had started refusing their regular meals. I told them their only hope was to wait for Libic—the chef who had set out on a journey to find food better than Alfred-kun's—to return.
When I sent that reply, I received letters from the kings themselves, written in a roundabout way that expressed their own desire to taste Alfred-kun’s food. Why were they sending those to me? The princes must have been bragging to their fathers. Directing those requests to Alfred-kun was out of the question, so I told them they had to go through my mother, Fushu. That would surely make them give up.
Alfred-kun never hesitated to provide food when asked, and he used expensive seasonings without a second thought. I eventually felt bad and consulted my mother about the market price of the spices he used. I was floored by the answer. The amount he used for a single meal was worth enough to buy a decent house. I thought she was exaggerating, but given their rarity and the difficulty of importing them, the price made sense. We had to be very careful with the Round-faced Fox race.
Despite the cost, the princes and the Information Hall members clamored for his food at every meal. Well, I supposed I would just have to make them work that much harder. The princes’ toilet business was going to require an astronomical amount of capital. It was still in the planning stages, but the royal families wouldn't be able to foot the bill alone. I planned to ask my mother to see if the Korin religion could provide some funding. Her standards were strict, so I needed the Information Hall members to produce a flawless proposal.
It was nearly noon. In the Reiwight Kingdom and the surrounding lands, the custom was to eat a heavy meal at sunrise and a light one at sunset. Only high nobility ate two hearty meals. However, Alfred-kun preferred a balanced three-meals-a-day lifestyle. When you grew accustomed to his cooking, you naturally fell into that rhythm. I certainly had.
The problem was that the city didn't cater to that. There were no places that served lunch. Unless you were a royal with an exclusive chef, you had to make it yourself or find Alfred-kun. He was supposed to be making lunch at the Information Hall today—ramen, at the prince’s request. I recalled reading about ramen being a trend started by a king in a distant land. If that was the dish, I had no choice but to head over to the Information Hall kitchen myself.