A Flat-Chest Believer Reincarnated in a World Where Women with Small Breasts Aren't Treated as Women ~ I Ended Up with a Flat-Chested Harem. - Chapter 51

After spending a night at the estate of Count Redding—my mother’s family—we resumed our journey toward Kolibe. It was the same route Risty and I had taken during our previous trip.

As was customary after returning from the royal capital during the summer, Father would conduct an inspection of Kolibe.

We passed the time admiring the scenery, snacking, and chatting idly.

Eventually, the carriage arrived in Kolibe without incident. This time, there were no troubles with intruders.

Crossing the bridge into Kolibe, we were greeted by the retainer managing the village as its headman.

From there, we visited the cotton fields, observing their condition and receiving explanations. The cultivation of cotton appeared to be progressing smoothly.

Afterward, we entered the estate used by the headman and others for administrative duties.

For the people of Kolibe, Father’s inspection was a significant event.

The act of the lord himself viewing the “cotton trees” wasn’t the important part. What mattered was the feast that followed, during which the Gustique family would provide food and drinks as a gesture of appreciation to the farmers.

The feast’s highlight was meat. Livestock brought in alive from outside the village would be slaughtered on-site, and the meat would be cooked—boiled or grilled—at the village square. The quantity prepared was far more than could be eaten in a single day, making it an all-you-can-eat meat festival. There was also an abundance of beer and wine. In my mind, I called it the “Kolibe Meat Festival.”

The farmers of Kolibe seemed to eagerly anticipate this event, and their excitement would grow as the day approached.

Preparations for the “Meat Festival” were already underway in the square. Butchered pork, chicken, and lamb were being carried back and forth, and temporary ovens were being set up.

If we were Japanese politicians, we’d surely be grilling meat ourselves with gloves on. But of course, we wouldn’t do that. We didn’t even enter the square, instead opting to relax inside the estate.

It might seem lazy, but the square was meant to be a space where the farmers could drink, sing, and enjoy themselves. The presence of nobility would only make them feel obligated to behave, ruining their fun.

So, we stayed inside the estate to eat meat. Since there wasn’t a large dining hall, we didn’t gather as a family either. My parents and sisters were in separate rooms.

As for the retainers who accompanied us, they were crammed into the barracks with the Kolibe guards for the night.

In my room were Risty, Kudell, and me. On the table was a metal grill along with meat and vegetables. There was no firewood or fuel because I would be cooking everything with magic.

At that moment, Rita returned. She had been checking on the two girls who had relocated to Kolibe after being rescued from the bandits.

“Welcome back, Rita. How were they?”

“They seemed healthy. It’s hard to say what’s in their hearts, but they’re managing to appear normal.”

“I see. Not bad, then.”

It wasn’t something to celebrate, but there didn’t appear to be any major issues.

All the farmers in Kolibe were employed and received wages from the Gustique family, so they wouldn’t face financial difficulties.

“As a noble, I know this kind of interference is out of line.”

These were people who had simply been unfortunate in another lord’s territory. By all rights, there was no reason for me to be involved or concerned.

When I spoke with a hint of self-deprecation, Risty gave me a gentle smile.

“I think it’s fine. Sure, it might not be ideal from a noble’s perspective, but I love this side of you, Folca—the part of you that lets your emotions guide you to kindness.”

Risty… what a wonderful wife. As I thought that, Kudell nodded vigorously beside her.

“I also hope Lord Folca stays the same—the kind of person who smiles and forgives me even when I accidentally start small fires.”

That’s not the same thing. Perhaps I should reflect on that and be stricter.

“Kuu, let’s be careful with fire hazards, okay? Anyway, Rita’s back, so let’s eat.”

“Alright, leave the heat to me.”

I constructed a fire magic spell and heated the metal grill, spreading a thin layer of oil over it.

I took the role of the “grill master.” First up was pork. Using tongs, I placed the slices on the grill, where they sizzled and released a delicious aroma.

The flavoring was a soy sauce-based marinade, with salt and lemon available as alternatives. It was essentially Japanese-style yakiniku.

“It’s ready. Let’s eat.”

I dipped the slightly charred meat into soy-based sauce and brought it to my mouth. Delicious. It’s a shame there’s no white rice to go with it.

“This soy-based sauce is amazing.”

Risty’s voice was filled with happiness.

“It really is. But soy sauce… it’s nostalgic, isn’t it? Now that I think about it, trying to make soy sauce with Lord Folca and Rita was how The Lab started.”

Kudell’s gaze seemed to drift into the distance. It really was a fond memory. Rita nodded in agreement.

“Indeed. Lord Folca was so excited when he got hold of koji mold and the method from a migrant from the East. He even developed thermometers for temperature control… But after the Griffis War, priorities shifted to things that strengthened the nation and military, so soy sauce never became a full-fledged project.”

“So, the reason soy sauce is still only produced for personal use is because the Gustique family lacks the capacity, right?”

“Exactly. We can’t just keep adding retainers endlessly.”

“Then why not have another family take it on? Now that teriyaki is popular in the capital, someone might step forward.”

That was a good idea. While soy sauce alone might not be profitable, teriyaki sauce was definitely a marketable product.

“Sounds good. I’ll propose it to Father next time.”

This is a valuable skill. It should be put to good use.

Well, back to the task at hand. Next up was lamb. The grill master’s work was never done.

Once cooked to perfection, I took a bite. Lamb had a bit of a gamey taste, but that was part of its charm.

From the window, I could see the square. The “Meat Festival” seemed to be in full swing, accompanied by the lively sounds of laughter and celebration. It’s a pleasant background music.

Yes, the meat was delicious.

◇◇ ◆ ◇◇

Duke Manjula, Timon Stola Manjula, had returned to his main estate within his territory.

Entering his private chambers at the back of the mansion, he sank into a sofa and let out a deep sigh.

“My lord, you seem quite fatigued… Perhaps you should allow for more flexibility in your travel schedule?”

This concern came from the Manjula family steward, who had been overseeing the management of the territory while the Duke was in the royal capital.

“It’s unnecessary. While I am tired, I’m not so old as to let it affect my health.”

“Understood. My apologies.”

“No need. I appreciate your concern. You’ve done well in my absence. Now, how are things… on the other side?”

“To the extent of what we’ve been able to observe, no issues have arisen.”

“I see. That’s good to hear.”

Despite the steward’s vague answer, Duke Manjula seemed satisfied.

The current operations being conducted by Duke Manjula and his faction were akin to grasping at clouds. If one were to answer with complete sincerity, phrases like “proceeding smoothly” wouldn’t apply.

“The encrypted letter I sent recently—has it been delivered?”

“Yes, it has. The directives are being carried out as intended, without any issues.”

This meant the false information they intended Griffis’ spies to uncover had been successfully planted.

“She’s excellent. Truly remarkable.”

The Kingdom of Griffis wasn’t foolish. They likely attempted to verify the authenticity of any information their spies obtained. However, while Duke Manjula carefully selected what information to leak, he refrained from disseminating anything false. The more Griffis verified the leaked information, the more credibility it gained.

The “poison” of false information was something to be administered only at the most decisive moment. Now was not that time.

“Let’s continue the preparations. It’s a burdensome task, but I trust you’ll see it through.”

“It’s no burden at all. I couldn’t rest in peace if things remained as they are.”

With a soft “Thank you,” Duke Manjula expressed his gratitude in a quiet voice.