The corridors of the mountain palace wound downward in smooth spirals, lit by veins of crystal that pulsed softly through the stone. The air grew warmer with every step until the scent of roasted herbs and baked bread reached them.

  When the heavy doors opened, James forgot to breathe for a second.

  The kitchen was not a room. It was a cathedral.

  Dozens of long counters stretched beneath vaulted ceilings. Steam rose in silver ribbons from copper pots large enough to drown in. Elves moved like dancers, graceful and silent, while dwarves hauled heavy pans and stirred cauldrons with rhythm born of centuries. The harmony of motion was so perfect that even the flames seemed to keep time.

  Then Villen stepped inside. Rennalinda followed, her presence slicing through the air like a silent command.

  Every hand stopped. Every sound died.

  Rennalinda’s voice was soft but absolute. “Clear the kitchen.”

  No one hesitated.

  Elves bowed, dwarves lowered their heads, and within seconds, the grand chamber stood empty except for the four of them.

  As the workers left, James’s eyes widened. “Pointy ears, flawless faces, elegant posture... Villen, are those—”

  He caught the look on everyone’s face and cleared his throat. “Yeah, got it. I’m the weird one.”

  Still, his thoughts lingered as he watched them leave. None of them, though... not one, could compare to her.

  He turned slowly, taking in the massive space. “You call this a kitchen? I’ve seen smaller kingdoms.”

  Polished marble counters, glimmering steel tools, spice racks carved into the walls, crystal-runed ovens; the place looked like a dream sculpted for chefs who prayed instead of cooked. He exhaled a low whistle. “Now this... this is holy ground.”

  Then it hit him.

  “Oh, right,” he muttered, snapping his fingers. “The system reward. I never checked it.”

  A flicker of blue lit up before his eyes.

  [Inventory Accessed]

  [Mishlin Sage Kitchenware – Special Equipment]

  +50% Taste Increase

  Never collects dust or stains

  Auto-cleaning and self-maintaining enchantment detected.

  James grinned. “Oh, the system really doesn’t want me touching laundry or dishes again. Honestly, best perk ever. I’m a walking hygiene commercial.”

  His gaze drifted over the floating icons, knives, ladles, spoons... and then froze.

  Among them, a sleek silver pot shimmered with runic lines.

  “Wait. Is that an espresso pot? For coffee?” His jaw dropped. “Oh my god, there’s a full coffee set. What more could a man want?”

  Villen raised an eyebrow. “What are you muttering about now?”

  “Checking my kitchenware,” James said quickly, trying to sound professional and failing.

  Villen’s expression darkened slightly. “If you were carrying cooking tools all this time, why in the world did you use a shield to make dinner?”

  James narrowed his eyes. “Because I didn’t have these yet. They just arrived.”

  “Regardless,” Villen said, voice clipped. “You are in a royal kitchen now. Use whatever you need here—”

  James cut him off. “No thanks. My gear’s better.”

  Nyindnir, who had just entered to stand by the door, let out a short laugh. “Human, even in your kingdoms you will not find tools like these.”

  James smiled, almost smug. “Good thing I’m not an ordinary human, then.”

  The words hung in the air, bold and quiet.

  For the first time, even Rennalinda looked at him, really looked at him.

  “Besides,” James said, a sly smile tugging at his lips, “I don’t think you have what I need... but I do.”

  He reached into his inventory, and a faint shimmer answered his call. When his hand reappeared, he was holding a small, polished coffee pot, its curved sides engraved with thin runic veins that pulsed with gentle blue light.

  Villen arched an eyebrow. “What is that?”

  James ignored him. A panel blinked open before his eyes, painting his face in pale blue light.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  [Skill Activated: Seed Maker Lv. 1]

  Generating 130 Coffee Seeds...

  Soft light rippled around his hands. The beans materialized directly into his inventory, stacking neatly in rows. The process took seconds before another line slid into view.

  [Seed Maker Lv. 1 → Lv. 2]

  You’ve mastered the basics of replication. Now has a 50% chance to create one extra seed per use.

  James grinned. “Finally, a skill that cares about my workload.”

  But the grin faded quickly. His knees wobbled, and the air felt heavier. His mana pool had taken a hard dive. Muttering something that sounded suspiciously like why am I like this, he rummaged through his inventory and pulled out a familiar vial, the Enhanced Mana Potion Villen had given him before.

  He popped the cork and gulped it down.

  The blue glow returned to his fingers.

  [Mana Restored: +100]

  “Alright,” he said, rolling his shoulders. “Round two.”

  He poured mana into the skill again, focusing on efficiency. The air shimmered, and one after another, new beans filled his inventory.

  [Coffee Seeds +150]

  [Total: 280]

  James exhaled loudly, his breath shaky. He looked up and started blinking rapidly at Villen, one eye, then the other, then both in frantic rhythm.

  Villen frowned. “Out of mana again, aren’t you?”

  James nodded, expression frozen like a bobble-head toy.

  “Nyindnir,” Villen said dryly. “Two large mana potions.”

  “Make it three,” James added immediately.

  Villen’s sigh echoed off the walls. “Three, then.”

  The dwarf pulled out three thick-necked bottles, each glowing faintly from within. “Why in the world do you need so much mana?”

  “It seems,” Villen replied, watching James work, “this particular drink demands an absurd cost to create.”

  Nyindnir tilted his head, intrigued. “Or perhaps the human hasn’t yet mastered his ability.”

  James went stiff, color draining from his face.

  Villen’s tone hardened. “I’ve seen his craft. The man’s not inefficient. If anything, that cost means his skill runs deeper than most.”

  “Hmm.” Nyindnir folded his arms. “Interesting.”

  James gave a lopsided grin. “You’ll think it’s fascinating once you taste it, master dwarf. Oh, and I’ll need milk this time.”

  Villen blinked. “You didn’t use any before.”

  “Last time,” James said, adjusting the coffee pot with exaggerated care, “I wasn’t serving a Queen.”

  For a heartbeat, the air stilled.

  Rennalinda’s head tilted ever so slightly. Her expression didn’t change, but curiosity flickered behind those violet eyes before the mask of calm authority returned.

  James downed the potions, his mana rising once more. The system chimed.

  [Seed Maker Repeated]

  [Coffee Seeds +450]

  [Total: 730]

  He set thirty aside for future planting. The rest he transferred into a pan, heating them over the magical stove. The runes beneath the metal glowed red, warming the air with a low hum.

  Soon, the beans began to pop and crackle, turning from pale brown to deep amber as a smoky, caramel aroma spread through the royal kitchen.

  He poured the roasted beans into a heavy mortar and pestle, grinding them slowly until the powder was smooth. Then he filled the espresso pot, letting the mixture brew over steady heat until dark liquid frothed at the edge.

  When it was ready, he poured the espresso into cups, each one half-filled, and carefully added a swirl of hot milk foam on top.

  “If the gods are watching,” he murmured, “they’d better take notes, because this one’s a cappuccino.”

  Steam coiled upward, carrying the scent of roasted heaven through the room. Even Rennalinda’s gaze softened for a heartbeat as the warmth brushed against her senses.

  James placed each cup gently on the counter, the aroma curling up in thin, golden threads that danced through the air. The kitchen felt smaller somehow, warmer, alive.

  “If I’d been properly prepared,” he said with a grin, “I’d have served this with tiramisu. Maybe a cheesecake. Sweet cuts through the bitterness.”

  Nyindnir tilted his head. “Tiramisu?”

  Villen lifted his cup, inspecting the creamy surface before bringing it closer. “It smells sweeter this time.”

  Nyindnir leaned in to sniff. “Rich too. Like roasted sugar and smoke.”

  Rennalinda said nothing. She simply stood there, silent and still, her gaze fixed on the small porcelain cup as though it might reveal something sacred.

  Villen took the first sip.

  “Ah.” His eyes half closed. “Lighter. You balanced the bitterness with the milk. The heaviness from before, it’s gone.”

  Nyindnir followed, taking a cautious sip. His eyes widened. “By the Forge God, this is divine.”

  James gave a modest shrug. “Not bad for an Earth beverage.”

  Villen chuckled. “The foam on top is a nice touch.”

  Still, the Queen did not move.

  She watched them all quietly, Villen savoring his drink, Nyindnir already halfway through his cup, James waiting with that insufferably smug smile.

  Nyindnir frowned. “But I don’t feel any special effect as you described, Sir Villen.”

  Villen swirled his cup lazily. “It comes shortly after you finish the whole thing.”

  Nyindnir blinked, shrugged, and downed the entire cup in one go.

  Villen continued drinking at his own pace, savoring the warmth.

  Then, at last, Rennalinda lifted her cup.

  The moment the liquid touched her lips, something unseen stirred. Her violet eyes widened as if the world itself had shifted. A breeze swept across the room, her hair lifting like silk caught in invisible wind.

  Acidic yet sweet, rich, deep, layered. The foam crackles like tiny sparks across my tongue. There’s warmth beneath my ribs. What is this? It feels alive. No wine, no tonic, no elven nectar ever felt like this. My body, it’s as if it glows from within. Jade Dragon, did you truly send this man to me?

  The world seemed to hum around her.

  Villen, watching from the corner of his eye, smiled faintly. “Well, Your Majesty? What do you think?”

  Rennalinda blinked, regaining composure. Her gaze flicked toward James, who waited expectantly, arms folded, wearing that playful half-grin that begged to be punched.

  Her expression hardened. “It’s terrible. I expected more.”

  James blinked. “Terrible? Really?”

  “Yes. It’s beneath what a Queen deserves.”

  The dwarf nearly choked. “Terrible? Are we drinking the same thing?”

  Before James could respond, Nyindnir’s face flushed. “Ah! Sir Villen, do you feel that? The surge, it’s incredible! My body’s thrumming with energy! I could work the mines for three days straight!”

  Villen nodded slowly, the faintest smirk on his lips. “There it is. The aftereffect.”

  Nyindnir was almost trembling. “If we served this to the miners, our production could triple!”

  James turned to Rennalinda, brows raised. “Terrible, huh?”

  She ignored him and took another sip, though her words were sharp. “If you wish to impress me, you’ll have to do better.”

  James smirked, his tone turning theatrical. “Then allow me another chance to prepare something you’ll actually like.”

  Rennalinda placed the cup down with practiced grace. “Hmph. I doubt that’s possible.”

  “Please, Your Majesty. Give me a chance to change your mind.”

  She turned, the silken folds of her gown trailing behind her as she walked toward the door. “Fine. If you wish to prove yourself, make something better. Until then, stay out of my sight.”

  She paused just before stepping out.

  “This time, the human stays. For my people’s sake. But he is not to appear before me without reason.”

  The doors closed with a low echo.

  James stood frozen for a moment, the silence heavy. Then his shoulders slumped.

  “Man, she’s impossible.”

  He looked at the empty cup she had left behind, his reflection rippling in the last drops of coffee.

  Under his breath, he whispered, “You’ll see. I’ll make something you can’t say no to.”

  And for the first time that day, his grin was not just playful. It was a promise.

  Author’s Note

  Chef’s deal of the day: leave one advance review, get one bonus chapter fresh from the oven. Offer valid until I pass out from editing.

  Kaywye, thank you for your amazing review! I’m really happy to see people enjoying the chapters as much as I enjoy writing them!

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