The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

Which country is Charlotte’s homeland?

It’s Belvur.

Then, what country is Belvur modeled after?

It’s based on France and Belgium.

Ah, of course, that’s not to say that all French or Belgian people are obsessed with chocolate and wine.

There are Koreans who dislike kimchi, or who don’t eat spicy food, right? Granted, the standard for that might differ a little from that of foreigners.

Still, in subculture settings, characters often reflect the stereotypical traits of the nationality they’re inspired by. The reason is simple: it makes their personality easier to express and more entertaining. And as long as it doesn’t veer into outright mockery, people from those countries often like it too.

I’ve never actually been to France, nor have I had any French acquaintances, so I can’t really say how the French feel about their own cuisine, but—

“It’s delicious...”

As we ate the food Charlotte had served with such a proud expression, none of us could speak for a moment.

Although I had been back in my homeland for the past few months, the food I’d eaten for the last several years came from the Azerna Empire, whose cuisine matched the stereotypes of “British food you see floating around the internet.”

Ah, it’s not like the food was inedible. My status was that of an imperial princess, so naturally, the meals I ate were prepared to match that standard.

Even so, not all the food tasted good, and the variety wasn’t particularly impressive. And since I hadn’t entirely abandoned my Korean palate, there were some parts that just fundamentally didn’t agree with me.

So, without realizing it, I’d developed a kind of belief: “food in this other world isn’t that great.”

“Charlotte. I mean this seriously—you have a talent for cooking.”

“Do you think so?”

Charlotte answered a bit shyly in response to my comment.

It’s not like I hadn’t had Belvur cuisine in the other world, or that I hadn’t eaten Charlotte’s cooking in this one.

But those meals hadn’t been “properly prepared” dishes. Most of them had been made with the “Korean ingredients” I unconsciously bought out of habit.

We also often ate out or ordered in. We only started staying indoors regularly once the weather got noticeably colder.

Thinking back, the reason we wandered around outside so much in the morning was simply because our home was small. After we moved into the apartment, even five people in the living room didn’t feel cramped, but in our previous studio apartment, it had honestly been a bit tight.

So we didn’t really get many chances to eat “seriously prepared” food like this.

Recently, as part of our ongoing effort to “find new hobbies,” Charlotte had started trying her hand at cooking.

She decided to move beyond the student recipes I used back when I lived alone, and to try making food she genuinely liked.

Even though the languages of this world and the other one are different, because of the shared inspiration, there are some overlaps in proper nouns. Since the original work also had collectible items related to cuisine, dish names in particular often matched.

Take boeuf bourguignon, for example—a dish that sounds fancy just by its name, but apparently, in France, it’s considered home cooking.

This dish, which uses generous amounts of France’s pride—wine (though we used American wine)—and beef, had a warm and comforting flavor, just like the internet described it: a classic French home-cooked meal.

We had gone all out to recreate the dish with ingredients that were hard to find here, so of course it turned out delicious. It’s not that I’ve never had more luxurious food, but still...

Why does this taste so good?

“Maybe it’s because it tastes like home?”

Charlotte smiled as she spoke.

“...Does it taste the same as what you had when you were little?”

“No, not really. Actually, I didn’t eat it that often.”

Well, that makes sense. It’s home cooking, after all. Royals probably ate gourmet food made by palace chefs. It’s unlikely she’d have any particular memories tied to this dish.

“O-oh! Maybe it’s the atmosphere!”

As we were lost in thought, Mia suddenly blurted out.

“The atmosphere?”

Alice looked around at those words, and as if something had suddenly clicked in her mind, she murmured, “Ah.”

Charlotte nodded in agreement.

Cold outside. Warm home.

People who’ve spent a long time together in the same place.

And even though it’s a bit early, there are Christmas decorations. Of course, there’s no Christmas in Azerna, but they have a similar holiday. They celebrate the end of the year too.

Maybe that’s what it is.

“To be honest, I’ve hardly ever seen people gather around like this to share a meal.”

“...”

Classic Mia.

With her bleak life story, she occasionally drops emotional landmines like this.

“...Now that you mention it, me too. I almost never ate with my father—”

Alice, who had started to speak, suddenly closed her mouth.

She probably noticed me staring at her.

“What’s wrong?”

Claire tilted her head, clearly curious.

“Don’t.”

I hadn’t even said anything yet, but Alice quickly spoke up.

“What kind of story is it, to make you react like that?”

Charlotte asked, also looking intrigued.

“If you don’t say anything now, people might {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} start imagining something even weirder.”

I spoke casually, and Alice’s face flushed red.

“Why? What? What is it? What happened?”

Claire, sensing the story involved me, grew visibly impatient.

“Fine. You can tell them. Just a little, though.”

Realizing that the conversation had somehow shifted too much in her direction, Alice looked extremely embarrassed.

“‘Just a little’—can you clarify how much exactly that is?”

“...”

Alice shot me a glare.

I took that to mean she was resigned to the fact that whatever I said would expose her a bit, so I opened my mouth.

“There were a few times I ate with Alice because she was lonely.”

“Oh.”

Claire’s eyes sparkled for a moment, then she tilted her head again.

“But is that really something to be so touchy about?”

“Maybe if she thought it meant no one would eat with her because she had no social skills?”

Charlotte said that, though her tone wasn’t teasing at all.

“But it’s not your fault, Alice. I don’t know exactly what a royal does, but it’s probably not much different from nobility. My father was often busy, so I often ate alone too.”

“Yeah. When I was little, I often had meals with Leo.”

“...”

I quietly picked up another piece of beef and put it in my mouth, watching Alice’s face grow redder and redder with every word.

“...Fine. Just say it. It’s okay now...”

Unable to withstand the stares any longer, Alice finally surrendered.

“Are you really okay with that?”

“...”

She grit her teeth, but it couldn’t be helped.

She asked me to say it, after all!

“The first time I invited Alice to eat together, she threw food in my face.”

“...”

The dinner table fell dead silent.

Charlotte, Claire, and Mia stared at me with their mouths open, then turned to look at Alice.

“...I wasn’t thinking straight back then. I’m sorry.”

“That’s right.”

I nodded.

Trust isn’t something that’s just given. Especially with Alice, who had envied me for years as a child. Even the Emperor would openly show favoritism toward me in front of her, so it wasn’t entirely her fault.

Still, I never said anything cruel to her and did my best to accept her behavior.

She was just a child. And she’d always been timid, too.

The food she threw was bread—not something that would burn or hurt, and it wasn’t covered in anything.

And she didn’t even hit me. I turned back time and dodged it.

That made her even more pissed off.

But because I never got angry, those moments slowly built up the trust we have now.

Of course, I had one other motive.

I wanted to get close to the protagonists, and I also thought it might be useful to bring up Alice’s embarrassing childhood moments once she matured.

I had forgotten all about it—it happened years ago—but to think it would come back like this.

“You’re amazing for putting up with that...”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not supposed to admit it yourself.”

What does it matter? My true nature’s already been exposed enough anyway.

“...Alice. Don’t you think it’s a bit of a stretch to keep calling yourself her ‘older sister’?”

Charlotte said this with a straight face, making Alice blush even more.