His Majesty the King will be visiting. Elena Violet had sealed the invitation bearing that single line the night before, and she'd been awake since three in the morning the next day. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say she hadn't slept at all. The kitchen of Tsukikage-tei. The scent of wood and the lingering sweetness of caramel prepared the day before dissolved into the thin light of the magic lamp. Elena spread her prep list across the counter, tapping the back of her quill against her lips as she checked each line. "Special course for His Majesty. Prin de Royale—caramel burned to exactly 127 degrees—coffee ground fresh from beans, then soup, bread..." The list spanned three pages. A high-end full course from her previous life, combined with this world's ingredients and Elena's cooling magic—a mid-tier spell that converted her internal magical power into temperature control, adjustable in 0.5-degree increments—all brought together in a prep she'd never served to anyone before. The problem was that she had to do it all alone starting at five in the morning. (Even the last inspection of the Jade Round Table, I had three people helping me. But this time, I'm doing it entirely myself. I can't afford any unnecessary chaos in front of His Majesty.) The moment that thought crossed her mind, there came a knock at the back door. Three times. ...Then three more times. ...And three more, but this time the rhythm was different. Elena stopped what she was doing. "...There are definitely three of them." She muttered, then opened the door. It was exactly as she'd suspected. Alphonse stood on the right, his gleaming golden hair catching the light, holding a paper bag labeled "Reference Materials Regarding His Majesty's Preferences." His face, which broke into dimples when he smiled, was currently shining at maximum brightness. On the left stood Sebastian, his long silver hair swaying, both arms cradling wooden boxes from which an extraordinary fragrance wafted. And Leon stood with a bundle of parchment pressed to his chest, his black hair with its single red streak flowing as he regarded her with calm golden eyes behind his glasses. The three of them looked at each other. "...Why are you here?" Alphonse asked. "Why is the prince here?" Sebastian asked. "Why are both of you arriving at the same time?" Leon asked. All three voices overlapped perfectly. "All of you are interfering with my prep work," Elena stated quietly. She spoke as calmly as possible, but with absolute clarity. "But listen—" Alphonse began. "I had a prior engagement—" Sebastian started. "Mathematically speaking, it was inevitable that I would come here—" Leon said. Three excuses came flying from three directions. Elena waited three seconds before speaking. "Everyone, state your reason in one sentence, please." Alphonse held up the paper bag. "Father enjoys sweet things. In exchange for providing information, I'm requesting permission to enter the shop," he said in the tone of someone conducting formal negotiations. Inside the bag were several handwritten notes. The cover read "Unofficial Investigation into His Majesty's Food Preferences." From the irregular handwriting, it was clear he'd written it all night to use as a bargaining chip. Sebastian raised the wooden boxes. "In the historical records of the Northern Expedition, there's documentation that His Majesty favored spicy dried rations! We've assembled the historical basis for presenting spicy ramen to the throne!!" he declared with all his might. Elena had no energy to point out why the captain of the Royal Knights had been researching in the library. Leon quietly extended the bundle of parchment. "These are magical circle designs that will improve the connection efficiency of your cooling magic by 42%. I finished them through the night and brought them to make the inspection deadline," he said in a voice devoid of emotion. Elena looked at each of them in turn. "...Does anyone have anything to say about the fact that all three of you arrived at the same time despite coming for different reasons?" "It's a coincidence," Alphonse said. "I had a prior engagement," Sebastian said. "Mathematically speaking, it's not uncommon for three people heading to the same destination to arrive simultaneously," Leon said. Elena didn't have her ledger with her, but she made a mental note. (Three overlapping coincidences constitute necessity. To be recorded in ledger.) "...Please come in. However, all of you must follow my instructions. If you cannot follow them, you will be asked to leave immediately." ──────── The moment the four of them entered the kitchen, a physical problem arose immediately. Tsukikage-tei's kitchen was only three tatami mats in size. With the counter, the stove, and the cooling magic circle carved into the floor, it was sufficient for one person, but mathematically impossible for four. Whenever Alphonse and Sebastian moved simultaneously, their elbows collided. When Leon shifted a step to the side to spread out his parchment, he encroached on Elena's work space. "Everyone, please step back," Elena said. "This is the minimum area," Alphonse replied. "I can prove it mathematically," Leon said. "It's the densest knight formation," Sebastian said. Three responses came from three directions. Elena took a deep breath and exhaled. "...I'm assigning tasks. Prince Alphonse, you'll whip the heavy cream. Captain Sebastian, you'll measure the spices—though the spicy soup prep is a separate matter. Lord Leon, you'll sit in that corner and look at the designs." "Just sit in the corner and look?" Leon asked. "Right now, not being in the way is your greatest contribution," Elena replied. Leon paused for a moment, then sat down in the corner chair. He unfolded the parchment and began writing something. He didn't object. ──────── The kitchen war escalated in stages. First, Sebastian began his "presentation of spicy ramen to His Majesty" in earnest. The set of spices he pulled from the wooden box was so red it hurt just to look at. Three minutes after he started preparing the soup trial, Sebastian spectacularly fell apart after a single spoonful of tasting. Tears streaming down his face, his long silver hair disheveled, his 188-centimeter frame clinging to the counter. "...This still requires adjustment," Sebastian said. Alphonse, while whipping cream, glanced over and remarked, "Your training is insufficient." "Then perhaps you should try a taste, Your Highness!" Sebastian offered. "...No, I'm assigned to the cream, so..." Alphonse said. His withdrawal came within three seconds. Elena directed her criticism at both simultaneously. "First, spicy ramen presentation to His Majesty requires my approval," Elena said. "So it's possible if you approve!?" Sebastian asked. "It is not," Elena replied. Crash! Bang! Clatter! Sebastian jumped up and caught his foot on the wooden box, sending two bottles of spices rolling across the floor. Leon calmly observed from his corner. "The volatile components of the spices may affect the precision of the magic circle," Leon said. "Pick them up immediately," Elena said. "...Understood," Sebastian replied. The next commotion arose when Leon announced he would "draw an additional magic circle on the floor to achieve the 42% efficiency improvement." "You can't draw on the floor during—" Elena began. "It's not business hours," Leon said. "During inspection prep, it counts as non-business hours," Elena said. "That's the same thing," Leon said. "It's completely different," Elena said. After five rounds of back-and-forth, Elena made a decision. "Everyone, please step outside for a moment." The three of them stopped what they were doing and exchanged glances. Then, obediently, all three went out through the back door. Elena stood alone in the kitchen and took a deep breath. She continued with the custard prep. She activated the cooling magic circle and gradually channeled her magical power. She carefully cracked eggs, measured milk— One minute later, the back door was knocked on again. Three times. A pause. Three more times. Another pause. Three more times. "..." Elena opened the door. The three of them came in from three different directions, each saying they'd "remembered something they wanted to help with." "Regardless of what you've remembered, please come in," Elena said. ──────── As the prep work reached the midpoint, the atmosphere in the kitchen shifted slightly. Sebastian continued measuring spices quietly—after Elena told him that "I have the final authority to confirm whether it suits His Majesty's palate," he complied without objection. Leon temporarily suspended the additional magic circle work and instead continued writing adjustment proposals for the existing circle while studying the designs. Alphonse quietly whipped the heavy cream. As Elena adjusted the custard mixture beside him, Alphonse murmured as if to himself. "I don't actually know what Father likes to eat." Elena didn't stop her hands. But her ears turned toward him. "As a king, he's in a position where he can't voice his preferences. At official meals, he always eats what suits the occasion." His golden hair shimmered in the magic lamp's light. His face without its dimples. It was a rare expression. Elena answered slowly. "That's why I think sometimes a warm plate, rather than formal protocol, can convey more." Alphonse stopped his hands. He looked at Elena's profile after a brief pause. His azure eyes quietly captured her. Feeling the weight of that gaze, Elena tried to pretend she didn't notice—or rather, she tried to pretend. "Spicy ramen is a warm plate too!?" Sebastian interjected with all his might. Elena and Alphonse turned toward him almost simultaneously. "It's not," they said in unison. A single beat of silence fell between them. Alphonse looked at Elena. Elena looked at Alphonse. Then, almost simultaneously, they both faced forward. A faint warmth rose in Elena's cheeks. (This is just... a reflexive reaction to our voices overlapping...) She stopped the diagnosis midway. Without her ledger, she couldn't record it anyway. ──────── One hour before the inspection, a problem arose. It was the consequence of continuous magic use. After repeatedly adjusting the cooling magic circle and controlling the custard temperature in 0.5-degree increments, her internal magical power reserves had dropped to dangerous levels. The basic magical power management taught at the Court Mage Academy—overuse causes dizziness, and in the worst case, magical power depletion syndrome—was about to hit, and Elena knew it herself. She knew it, but the moment she tried to finish the last custard, her knees gave out. Her feet wavered. Something wrapped around the back of Elena's waist. It was Alphonse's arm. The motion was unhesitating. As if he'd been standing there all along, with a natural movement, he supported Elena's back and gently guided her to the kitchen wall. Elena's back was settled against the wall, and the two of them went still. Alphonse's body heat reached her from the front. The distance was close. The warmth of his breath reaching her neck made Elena's heart pound harder than it had all day. Alphonse's hand was still around her waist. Just supporting her, she knew, yet that body heat spread through her skin in a slow wave. (Magical depletion symptoms—confirmed—need to record in ledger—) Her ledger wasn't in her hands. Realizing this fact, Elena gave up. "You pushed yourself again," Alphonse said. His voice was low and quiet. Not quite reproachful, but with a hint of exasperation, yet concern seeping through. "...Just a little," Elena replied. The moment those words left her mouth, she realized something. She'd thought she could do it alone. In her previous life and in this one, she'd lived treating the asking for help as synonymous with weakness. Now, in three syl