A Maid Who Knows How to Cook Always Gets Extra Points

“Young Master, it’s time to eat.”

At the sound of Anne’s voice, Ewan’s eyes fluttered open.

Her call was so gentle, so achingly familiar, that for a fleeting, tragic moment, he was transported back to the past, to the soft, warm, cloud-like bed where she would wake him every morning with a smile.

But that was just a memory.

He was now a prisoner in a cage, his bare skin pressed against steel colder than his own desolate heart.

“How long has it been?” Ewan looked up at Anne, a flicker of deep, bone-weary exhaustion in his eyes.

“A whole night has passed,” Anne said with a light, cheerful smile, placing a food container in front of him. “Did the Young Master sleep well in his new quarters?”

“What do you think?!” Ewan rattled his chains, a cold, bitter sneer on his face. “Take off these shackles, bring me a two-meter-wide bed with velvet sheets and pillows, and stop making me sit naked on a freezing-cold floor, and then maybe, just maybe, one day I’ll be able to sleep well.”

“I’m afraid I cannot grant the Young Master’s request. After all, if you were to accidentally slip away, I would be very, very sad.”

“I’m just a useless, profligate son that you yourself meticulously raised to be this way, aren’t I? Is this kind of treatment really necessary? Even death row inmates have it better than this!”

“It never hurts to be a little cautious, now does it?” Anne slowly took the breakfast out of the container, her smile never wavering. “Seeing that the Young Master was a bit… tired yesterday, I have specially prepared a Ten-Ingredient Great Tonic Soup for you.”

“A ‘Ten-Ingredient Great Tonic’?”

“Mm. I saw it in a rather old book. It’s a restorative soup made from things like tiger’s… weenie, bull’s weenie, goblin’s weenie, troll’s weenie, and Morolita Giant Bear’s weenie. I hear it’s very, very good for a man.”

“What in the seven hells is a Morolita Giant Bear?” Ewan’s face paled, a sense of deep foreboding washing over him.

“It’s a magical beast. It is said that when a male Morolita Giant Bear is in heat and cannot find a mate, many new, mysterious tree hollows will appear in its habitat overnight. That is why they are also commonly known as ‘Tree Hollow Bears’.”

“Tree hollows…”

Ewan decided, for the sake of his own sanity, that he did not want to know how those tree hollows were made.

He looked down as Anne, with her slender, delicate hands, opened the container and poured a black, pungent, and deeply unsettling liquid into a bowl. For some reason, as the soup flowed, he felt his own liver tremble in sympathetic terror.

“Are you sure that concoction is even safe for human consumption?”

“Of course it is,” Anne said, her voice full of pride. “You may not know this, Young Master, but I have been secretly adding these ingredients to your food since you were ten years old. Of course, given your tender age at the time, the dosage was much, much smaller.”

“What?”

The color drained completely from Ewan’s face.

“Since I was ten?”

In other words, he had been drinking this so-called “Great Tonic Soup” for eight whole, horrifying years!

“One must always be prepared for a rainy day. Actually, what I really wanted to add was dragon’s penis, but dragons are not so easy to catch. I suppose I will just have to find an opportunity to procure some for you to try in the future.”

“Please don’t talk about catching dragons so casually! You’re scaring me!”

“Why should you be scared, my dear Young Master? As long as you are obedient, I will never, ever harm you.” Anne held up the bowl and brought the spoon to his lips. “Come now, Young Master. Open your mouth. Say ‘Ahhh’—”

“I won’t drink it!” Ewan shook his head violently, dodging the spoon. Who knew what kind of horrific, long-term side effects this stuff would have! Perhaps the reason the original Ewan was such an incompetent moron was because of this very soup!

“You won’t drink it?”

The sweet smile on Anne’s face suddenly froze. She leaned in, her eyes level with his. In those mesmerizingly beautiful eyes, Ewan saw a deep, bottomless darkness swirling, threatening to erupt and consume everything.

“Are you certain?”

Although her words carried no threat, Ewan felt as if a sharp, gleaming, and very real hatchet were pressed against his heart. If he gave the wrong answer, it would surely pierce through him, sending his soul flying.

“No, I’ll drink it. I’ll drink it,” Ewan nodded with a sheepish, defeated grin, then craned his neck forward and slurped the tonic soup from the spoon. A wise man knows when to bend and when to stand tall. It was just a stupid tonic soup. What was the big deal? He’d been drinking it for eight years already; what was one more time?

Hm…

You know, it’s actually surprisingly delicious.

…

After spoon-feeding Ewan the entire bowl of tonic soup, Anne suddenly stood up. Before Ewan could even process what was happening, her maid’s uniform fell to the floor in a soft heap, revealing her pale, slender, and impossibly beautiful body.

“AGAIN?!” Ewan’s eyes widened in grief and indignation. “Has it even been that long?!”

She wasn’t even wearing any underwear.

She had planned this from the very start!

“It can’t be helped.” Anne licked her crimson lips and leaned down, crawling toward him like a graceful, predatory cat. Her eyes were full of a playful, dangerous light. “I must leave my mark on you as soon as possible, my dear Young Master~”

“You wicked woman, don’t come any closer! Ngh…”

“Mmm… the Young Master says no with his mouth, but his body is quite honest, isn’t it—”

“N-no, it’s not!”

“Is that so? Mmm… but you’re moving on your own, you know…”

“Damn you…”

…

(Two hours of intense, educational, and deeply humiliating re-marking later.)

…

After the deed was done, Anne dressed herself with a look of deep, profound satisfaction on her face.

Ewan, on the other hand, stared blankly at the cold, metal ceiling, like a young maiden who had been violated by a villain, feeling as if all hope in life was well and truly lost.

Perhaps feeling that she had been a bit too rough on him, Anne knelt by his side, cupping her cheek in her hand as she said with a hint of genuine apology, “It seems I may have been a little too harsh on the Young Master.”

“…” Ewan shot her a withering glare but said nothing.

“Seeing you like this, my conscience is truly, deeply pricked.”

Ewan rolled his eyes again. Conscience? After everything you’ve done to me, you still have the audacity to have a conscience?

“In that case, how about I grant you one, single, small request?”

Ewan’s eyes lit up, a flicker of hope in their desolate depths. “I want my freedom—”

“That will not do.” Anne pressed a soft, delicate finger to his lips, silencing him. “I said, a small request.”

“Then take off these shackles.”

“No.”

“I want my clothes.”

“No.”

“I want a bed.”

“No.”

“You won’t agree to anything!” Ewan wailed, his voice cracking with despair. “Just how small does this ‘small request’ have to be?!”

“Let me think.” Anne pondered for a moment, a thoughtful look on her face. “It would be on the level of… deciding what you would like to have for lunch.”

“…That really is small.” Ewan sighed, the last of his hope draining away. “But I suppose it’s better than nothing.”

“So, has the Young Master decided?”

“Mm, I suppose so.”

“And what is it?”

“It will be autumn soon, won’t it?” Ewan didn’t answer directly, instead choosing to be cryptic, his voice taking on a sad, poetic tone. “Around this time of year, I would usually be boating on the pristine waters of Lake Bepor, admiring the breathtaking scenery and enjoying the sweet, delicious autumn fish caught fresh from its depths.”

“Does the Young Master wish to eat fish from Lake Bepor?”

“Ah, the autumn fish are the most plump and delicious. Steamed, and paired with a fine red wine from Count Locke’s estate… what a sublime delicacy it would be.”

“But Lake Bepor is so far away. By the time the fish is delivered…”

“Ah, last year I was boating on that very lake, so full of life and vigor. And now, I am trapped in this small, dark, cold cell. How tragic, how pitiful. What meaning is there in such a life? I might as well just die,” he lamented, a single, perfect tear rolling down his cheek.

“…Very well.” A muscle in Anne’s cheek twitched, but she maintained her serene smile. “I will procure the fish for you. Please wait patiently, my dear Young Master.”

“Oh?” Ewan immediately stopped his tragic wailing and looked at her, a single, challenging eyebrow raised. “In that case, I shall be waiting, Anne.”