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“So uh, does anyone here actually know how to gut a fish?”
“It can’t be too hard, right? There’s the inside of it, and then the outside…”
“And then everything else in between.” Claude concluded. He and Dimitri peered over Edelgard’s shoulder at the aforementioned fish that laid still on the cutting board.
The Emperor herself stared unflinchingly into the aquatic fauna’s lifeless optics, tapping one finger rhythmically on the kitchen table while her grip on her knife tightened. With its perpetually gaped maw and unblinking gaze, Edelgard could practically feel the beast mocking her. Her grip tightened further, and she had a sudden urge to impale the uncooked ingredient.
Sensing the silent threat of violence from the Emperor, Claude spoke again. “There’s gotta be something in the library on this stuff, right?”
Edelgard merely sighed at his words, letting her head hang low. “I already checked there. Thrice. The only literature not related to history, magic, or weapons were various fables written by Seteth and illustrated by Bernadetta, the latter of which were delightful, but ultimately useless.”
The Emperor was rather perturbed at the lack of written instructions for something so basic as fish-gutting. For all the knowledge Garreg Mach’s library held, it seemed ironic that it was devoid of anything related to practical and commoner-style food preparation.
Of course, that was the heart of the matter. Commoner. The intricacies of preparing a fish were such common knowledge amongst the common man that nobody even considered writing it down, instead passing the technique along by word of mouth from parent to child.
On one hand, she knew quite a few people who could probably demonstrate the procedure she sought, while on the other her pride demanded she find the knowledge herself. Dimitri was similarly clueless and only really came along in case they needed someone to quickly declare an emergency, and Claude’s knowledge of food preparation began and ended with how best to identify or conceal poisonous substances.
Suffice to say, the threes’ culinary skills were sorely lacking, and none of them wanted to endure the embarrassment of falling into the ‘sheltered noble’ stereotype and ask for assistance. Besides, the Emperor really wanted to do something special for her beloved, and she knew there was no greater way to satisfy Byleth than through her stomach.
Edelgard sighed again, bringing her gaze level to her opponent’s literal dead eyes. Lilac irises wandered to the ice-chest in the corner, and she tried to recall exactly how many of the fish’s allies laid in reserve.
“Well,” Edelgard straightened her back, staring downward at her prey. “We shall simply have to treat this as any other training exercise.” She raised the knife dramatically above her head, prompting the other two lords’ eyes to widen in alarm.
“Practice makes perfect.” She lined up the edge of her blade with the invisible line just below her foe’s challenging eyes, and then brought the knife down.
“NO MERCY!”
~~~~
Byleth hadn’t expected to find the kitchen on fire while searching for her wife. However, once Flayn had told her that her wife was the source of the blaze, she wasn’t entirely surprised. The two stood just outside and watched as the chaos finally began to die down in the wake of Seteth’s frantic trips back and forth from the pond to the dining hall. Rhea joined the pair after a time and sipped at the cup she’d been drinking at before her tea break had been interrupted by shouting and smoke.
The three perpetrators filtered out one after another, each with varying levels of defeat written on their faces. Dimitri sulked out first, hunched over and nearly half his actual height and covered in chunks of seafood. Edelgard came next, her crimson atire blackened with a fine layer of soot and eyes glued firmly to the ground. Claude walked out last, caked in a multitude of spices and eyes firmly shut, clearly fearing the effect of the spices on his tear-ducts.
All three lords planted themselves in front of the professor like lost puppies. Rhea seemed unimpressed, Flayn was relieved no one was injured, and Byleth merely shrugged with a bemused look.
“It’s a miracle you three didn’t burn down the monastery.” Rhea took another long, loud sip from her cup, ignoring the pointed look Edelgard gave her.
It was then that Sothis conjured herself out of thin air, appearing behind Byleth and startling the group.
“If we’re to talk about cooking mishaps, then perhaps I shall tell these younglings about the time a certain child nearly rendered half of Zanado to ash because she incorrectly assumed that the size of the flame directly correlated with how quickly the stew would cook.”
Rhea crushed the tea cup in her grasp, blushing furiously. Byleth clutched her stomach with one hand and covered her mouth with the other, failing miserably to suppress the fit of snickers that had her on the ground moments later. The others followed soon after, and Seteth was left wondering what exactly was so amusing that no one could bother to help him clean up.