Megri didn't rush to clear the table.
She looked at the remaining mashed potatoes on the plate, paused for a moment, as if a thought had just struck her.
"…There's still some left," she said.
Chino immediately looked up.
"I can still eat."
Aaron nodded as well.
"We could save it for a midnight snack."
Megri shook her head.
"No."
"I want to make one more dish."
All three of them froze.
"More cooking?" Kai asked.
"Not cooking," she was already moving, pouring the leftover mashed potatoes back into a bowl and adding a bit of flour and salt.
"A different method."
She slowly mixed the potatoes and flour together, her movements practiced and precise. The soft white mash gradually became slightly sticky—able to hold its shape, yet not stiff.
Chino watched her hands closely.
"What are you making?"
"Pancakes," Megri replied.
She took out a frying pan and poured in a small amount of oil. When the oil heated up, she pressed the potato mixture into thin rounds and gently placed them into the pan.
—Sizzle.
The sound rang out, and all three men looked up at once.
This wasn't the slow, muted sound of boiling or stewing.
It was sharp, immediate, tempting.
Soon, a different aroma filled the kitchen—not the gentle warmth of soup, but the toasty fragrance of oil and starch meeting heat.
Megri flipped the pancakes with ease. The surface had turned a beautiful golden color.
"…Potatoes can be cooked like this?" Aaron couldn't help asking.
"Of course," she replied matter-of-factly.
"Boiling, steaming, stewing—they're just methods."
"What matters is what you want them to become."
She transferred the pancakes onto a plate, cut them into small pieces, and slid the plate to the center of the table.
"Try them."
Chino reached out first. The moment he bit into one, his eyes widened.
Crisp on the outside.
Soft and fluffy inside, retaining the natural richness of the potato.
"…This," he chewed twice, stunned,
"is even more dangerous than the last dish."
Kai tasted one as well. This time, he didn't speak immediately.
He took another bite.
Only then did he look up at Megri.
"This could be sold at the market."
It wasn't a question.
It was a conclusion.
Aaron jumped in at once.
"And it's cheap."
"Everyone has potatoes."
"Oil, salt, flour… all things common folk can afford."
Chino suddenly laughed.
"But it doesn't taste like common food."
The kitchen fell quiet for a moment.
Megri looked at the plate of potato pancakes, now almost empty, and spoke calmly.
"That's why I said—"
"It's not that the ingredients are lowly."
"It's the method that decides how they're seen."
For the first time, Kai's gaze truly lingered on her—not just as a girl who could cook.
But as—
Someone who could take the most ordinary thing
and turn it into value.
And what none of them said aloud that night was—
If these potato pancakes ever appeared at the market,
what they would change
wouldn't be just a single meal.
Megri finished the last bite, set down her utensils, and glanced out the window without thinking.
The night had grown deep. Moonlight lay quietly across the ground, reminding her—it was time to go.
"…I should head back," she said naturally, with a hint of reluctance. Then she gestured to the stacked plates and pots.
"I'll leave these to you."
The moment she finished speaking, the air went still.
Chino blinked, instinctively looking at her.
Kai paused as well, his eyes following her, unable to look away.
The same thought surfaced in both their minds—
So soon?
It had only been a meal together.
Yet somehow, once she was there, the house felt different.
Warmer. Brighter.
Even time itself seemed to move faster.
Especially for Kai.
He realized he had grown used to coming home to a kitchen with light, with aroma, with her voice.
Once you experienced that feeling, it was hard to let go.
Aaron glanced out the window as well.
"It's late," he said evenly, his concern unmistakable.
"I'll take you back."
"It's not safe for a girl to walk alone at night."
After a brief pause, he added,
"I have a horse."
The moment he said it—
Megri's eyes lit up.
Not a polite smile, but genuine, undisguised excitement.
"Really? I can ride a horse?" she blurted out, then quickly realized how eager she sounded and cleared her throat. But the sparkle in her eyes refused to fade.
In her original world, riding a horse had always been a dream left unrealized—not for lack of interest, but lack of time.
Business. Restaurants. Orders. Reviews.
Reality had slowly pushed her dreams into a corner.
And now, someone was saying—
"I have a horse."
Chino immediately bristled.
"Wait," he said, his tone sour without even realizing it.
"She went back the same way before."
"Why didn't you offer to take her on horseback then?"
Kai nodded silently in agreement, though inwardly he couldn't help thinking—
Wasn't it you who once said she was 'too skinny to look at'?
Caught between them, Aaron felt awkward. He brought a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat, speaking with forced seriousness.
"She cooked for us."
"Walking her back is basic courtesy, isn't it?"
He glanced at the two of them, his voice calm but firm.
"The way you're acting—doesn't feel right."
With that, he reached out and gently nudged Megri's shoulder.
"Let's go."
He turned and headed outside, completely ignoring the two burning stares behind him.
Chino stood there, fists clenched tight.
Kai watched the doorway, a strange heaviness settling in his chest.
Megri paused at the door and looked back at them. There was no pride in her eyes—only a slightly apologetic smile.
Then she turned and stepped into the night.
What no one said aloud was—
That horse
didn't just carry her back to the castle.
It quietly carried
certain hearts
off their familiar tracks.