The meat on the iron plate sizzled and emitted a tempting aroma at high temperatures, with the rising oil fumes being taken away by the circulating airflow created by the alchemy array in the shop. Most of the diners were quietly waiting for the 1,200-pound bluefin tuna that would be the star of the night.

Except for a few individuals.

"Say, Miss Tiran, are you really sure that your mother has never been to an iron plate buffet restaurant?" Aya forked a piece of meat from her plate, blew it twice, then swallowed.

"Even if you ask me about that, it's hard to say for sure..."

Tiran and Aya sat side by side at a square table, trying to figure out how to handle the iron plate in front of them.

How should I put it? Most of the other customers were here for the special bluefin tuna tonight. They only sampled a few other dishes as accompaniments, and most didn't even bother to light the stove under the iron plate. Even if they did, it was just a casual searing to satisfy their appetite.

If their dining table were compared to a painstakingly crafted blade by a master blacksmith, the Princess's table would probably resemble a production assembly line straight out of the industrial age, or something along those lines.

"Miss Moros, these ones are done, take them away!"

"Oh, okay!"

Vivienne tied up her hair in a simple bun, took off her coat and threw it on a nearby chair, not minding her fair skin being exposed to the sizzling oil fumes. With one hand on the tongs and the other on the knife, she skillfully cut the pieces of meat into bite-sized chunks, which Moros then arranged on the plates ready on the side.

The large iron plate was divided into three sections, with batches of ingredients being seared on both sides, cut into pieces, and plated, with Moros reheating any undercooked items and arranging them. It operated like a production line, generating food round after round...

Despite having met just today, their cooperation was remarkably seamless...

"By the way, as a maid, is it appropriate for me to feed the master?" Aya murmured softly.

"It's fine... probably?" Tiran smirked, "My mom seems to be having a great time."

The variety of meat, including steaks, lamb chops, chicken, pork belly, and sausages in various positions, was already overflowing. Each plate was piled high like a small mountain, far more than any normal person could finish.

Of course, such quantities were not really suitable for the diners here, but it seemed the Queen went a bit overboard, didn't she?

Aya kept up with Vivienne's pace of producing food, quietly musing as she ate the earliest cooked meat, "Tiran, you should eat more, or Aya will tease you about your small chest."

*Cough, cough!*

The Princess, who had just finished devouring two whole T-bone steaks, was caught off guard and choked while sipping on an iced lemonade. As Aya gently patted her back to help with her breathing, the Princess looked teasingly at Vivienne, "You don't need to worry about that, and besides, you already know, Aya prefers girls with smaller breasts, right?"

Actually, having a bit more wouldn't be bad, and Miss Tiran seemed to be showing signs of growth recently...

As Tiran playfully pinched her waist, Aya quickly straightened up, "Yes, Aya loves girls with small chests the most!"

"Ah, well..."

The Queen let go of the tongs, rested her chin on her hand, and gazed at Tiran with a gentle smile, "I just realized I haven't really cooked for you like a regular mom would. It's just a small wish fulfillment."

"Eh... is that so?"

Tiran pondered for a moment. It did seem like her mom never cooked for her and her dad, even when they were in the palace during her childhood.

As for Brad... well, how could he have something that even she didn't have?

"Mmm! Your mom is actually very skilled in cooking, your dad has praised her before."

With clenched fists and a determined nod, Vivienne's eyes sparkled, showing her excitement after a small wish was fulfilled.

"But simple grilling and searing can't showcase your mom's skill; the real attraction is yet to come."

...

In the underground facility of the royal capital, Gustbode Palace.

Bang!

Another explosion rang out.

This was already the sixteenth blast in three days. The experienced craftsmen had reinforced the doors and surrounding walls early, so the damage was contained within the basement.

The slightly deformed door was pushed open from the outside, and His Majesty the King walked in, covering his nose and mouth. The first thing he saw on the left was his son, shimmering with a pale Magic shield, slammed against the wall by the impact.

The blast was powerful, and though Brad wasn't injured, he was all over the place.

As for the experimental platform in the middle of the room, made of an alloy workbench from the magitech capital, it survived the blast perfectly, but the machinery on top was reduced to deformed remnants.

"It seems to be progressing well. Even if it can't create the steam engine you desire, it could serve as a bomb on the battlefield."

Whether mocking or serious, Brad was used to this kind of interaction with his father, so he didn't pay much attention to it.

Mist filled the room but was quickly blown away by the ventilation system, and Brad stood up and started examining the wreckage.

"How's the progress?"

Granzon stepped closer, also showing concern.

"The sealing issue with the cylinders. The sealing compound I made couldn't withstand the required pressure, so we have to wait for the sealant we ordered from the magitech capital. Besides, the lack of component precision will lead to cracks after running for some time... The precision of the components made in our country's magitech research institute is not up to standard."

"Anyway... keep it up." Granzon patted his son on the shoulder.

"By the way, why are you here?"

Brad put down the piece of debris he had picked up and turned to look at his dad.

While this basement was his laboratory, it also functioned as his prison. Normally, Granzon wouldn't come down here.

"Tsk, I heard an explosion! If I didn't know better, I'd think your mother was cooking in the kitchen..."

"My mom? But isn't she in Gilliast?"

Granzon shrugged, smiled wryly, and said, "Even though I know that, I still instinctively get worried. After all, you know your mother's culinary skills."

"...I guess so."

Brad recalled a certain unpleasant memory and let out a sigh. Maybe deep down, the reason he chose to run away and learn cooking from others as an excuse was influenced by that.

"Oh no, I forgot to remind Tiran!" Suddenly, Granzon shouted, regretting it as he scrambled through his pockets for the alchemic mirror that could communicate with Tiran.

"Forgot to remind? Remind her of what?"

Brad was puzzled.

"To not let your mom cook!"

"Tiran doesn't know?"

"Of course she does. How could I bear to let my daughter eat food cooked by her mother?"

"...And can I bear it?!"

Brad had a dark expression. Indeed, in his memories, whenever Vivienne cooked, it was always just him and his dad present.