Back in the modern world, Clara somehow got hooked on Avril Lavigne.
She sat on the living room rug with her phone, blasting Complicated through the speaker, nodding along and singing the chorus with rough pronunciation.
The scene was bizarre. A medieval countess humming early-2000s pop punk was not something I ever expected to witness.
"What are you listening to?" I asked, pretending I didn't recognize the track.
"This song is good," she replied, swaying to the rhythm without looking up from the lyrics on her screen.
I chuckled. "You have vintage taste."
"I like it," she countered, pouting with mild annoyance as she shot me a glare. "Mind your own business."
"Alright, alright," I raised my hands in surrender. "My bad. Enjoy your tunes."
"Where are you going?"
"To buy groceries."
"Again?" she asked
"If we're holing up in this apartment, we have to eat," I said, putting on my sneakers by the door. "Actually, you just reminded me of something."
"What?"
"We need a knock signal. If the rhythm is wrong, you call the police immediately."
"Fine. What is the pattern?"
I rapped my knuckles against the wooden door frame to show her two rhythms: knock-knock, knock-knock, knock meant all clear, while knock-knock, knock, knock-knock meant danger.
"Understood," she said, nodding once before turning the music back on. "Go on then."
She was genuinely addicted to the internet. I thought to myself that I might not even need to mislead her with fake spiritual rituals; modern entertainment alone could keep this countess too distracted to ever want to break the bond.
By the time I returned with another haul of snacks meant to dazzle Richard and his drinking buddies, Clara's taste in music had not shifted forward in time. She had moved on to Selena Gomez's A Year Without Rain.
Great. At least it’s getting more recent.
Greg and Christ messaged me in the Instagram group, asking where I’d been these past few days.
“At work.” I gave a quick reply, then put away my phone.
Standing in the kitchen, I pretended to prep food while watching her through the doorway. She was gently swaying to the melody, recording a short dance clip on her front camera.
Her dancing was a disaster, yet with her looks and figure, tons of followers would praise the clip without hesitation.
In her home realm, she might be a ruthless ruler who had her own kin slaughtered. But I couldn't help wondering: if she had been born in this world instead, she would probably just be a harmless influencer chasing trends.
The contrast was tragic in a strange way.
Over in the fantasy realm, I spent the following days expanding my culinary monopoly.
On the second day, I smuggled across several packs of spicy instant ramen, dried beef jerky, and barbecue potato chips.
According to Clara, the nobles inside the keep were enjoying courses of roasted game, dried fruit, and heavy wine.
Little did Count Leonardo know that out in a dirty tavern beneath his stone walls, commoners were feasting on flavors that medieval royalty couldn't even dream of.
I made sure to leave no physical traces behind, carefully collected every foil pouch and plastic wrapper to bring back to Earth, leaving nothing behind but legends and aftertastes.
[Reputation in Falkenreach increased to 25]
[Reputation increased to 20]
By the third day, word had spread throughout the outer settlements. A steady stream of laborers, peddlers, and mercenaries crowded the tavern, treating me like a traveling prophet of divine cuisine.
Some even brought offerings to trade for snacks.
Unfortunately, their offerings consisted of live goats, crude iron trinkets, or suspicious animal organs wrapped in dirty rags.
I accepted them with a polite nod and tossed the unusable junk the moment their backs were turned. Handing over ultra-processed treats in exchange for some junk felt like being robbed, but I had collected a good number of Reps.
[Reputation in Falkenreach increased to 35]
[Reputation increased to 25]
Sir Richard, however, remained an immovable wall. His affection score refused to budge. We even got into a heated argument over the tavern table when he caught me handing out sweets to a group of guards.
"You are playing with forces you do not understand, boy," Richard growled. "Using strange foreign power to bewitch the minds of simple folk is dangerous."
"It's just seasoned food, you stubborn old fossil," I fired back. "If your local cooks knew how to use spices instead of serving boiled cabbage, people wouldn't be begging me for a bite."
"Watch your tongue before I remove it," he warned.
[Richard Affection decreased to -6]
Fine. The old man is a lost cause.
Since Richard refused to soften up, I directed my efforts toward his warhorse instead. Besides, according to our earlier wager, the beast technically belonged to me.
I walked out to the stables, offering Whitemane a handful of rolled oats and two strawberry-flavored hard candies.
The horse let out a loud, delighted whinny, nudging its wet muzzle against my chest.
[Taming increased to 9]
[Whitemane is loyal to you now!]
On the fourth day, Clara brought word that the castle ceremonies were concluding, and we would depart on the fifth morning.
"Can't we stay a little longer?" I asked, disappointed that my easy reputation farm was ending.
Clara looked surprised. "I thought you hated this place. Where has Richard been taking you?"
I offered a vague shrug. "Just the local tavern."
Her eyes narrowed with sudden hostility. "You didn't visit a brothel, did you? If you touched a whore, don't you dare lay a hand on me. I find that filthy."
"Hey, what kind of person do you think I am?" I protested. With no other choice, I came clean. "I just got along really well with the locals outside the walls."
"How?"
"I... shared some food with them."
I braced myself for a scolding about disrupting the world's rule, but Clara only shrugged and turned away.
"You aren't mad?" I asked, puzzled.
"What good would that do?" she replied calmly. "I warned you about the consequences. Just do not come crying to me when things go wrong."
Her lack of anger bothered me more than a reprimand would have. It made me paranoid. Was she planning something behind my back? Or did she know something I didn't?
Luna had planted seeds of doubt so deep that every word out of Clara's mouth felt like a puzzle piece in some hidden scheme.
That Court Witch truly understood how to play politics.
"Don't worry," I assured her. "I only bring small snacks. Nothing addictive."
Of course, I didn't realize at the time that refined sugar and artificial flavor enhancers were quite addictive to people who had never tasted them before.
That ignorance came back to bite us on our final morning.
When Count Leonardo led his mounted guard out through the castle gates to meet with us, he did not find two isolated outcasts waiting by the road. Instead, he found a massive crowd surrounding the tavern.
Townsfolk held up squawking chickens, sacks of grain, and lead ropes attached to dairy cows, shouting for the Master of Flavors. People from neighboring farming hamlets had even walked through miles just to catch a glimpse of my miracle.
When the armored noble retinue rode up, the crowd reluctantly parted.
Leonardo sat frozen in his saddle, his jaw slack as he tried to figure out what kind of riot had broken out in his territory.
"Under the name of Ordanis, what is the meaning of this?" Leonardo demanded, looking down at me.
"Just my personal charisma, my Lord," I said with a slight grin. "Nothing to worry about."
Richard stepped forward, his face pale as he gave a stiff salute to Clara. "My Lady... I attempted to restrain him..."
"Explain yourself, Captain!" Leonardo barked.
Richard gave a twisted explanation, claiming that I had used the power of curses to charm the public, that his warnings had been ignored, and that because he was barred from entering the inner keep, he had been unable to alert the Lords in time.
“I accept punishment for my failure. My lord.” He concluded.
Leonardo's expression darkened. He drew his sword an inch from its sheath, glaring at me. "Using dark bewitchment to mislead the common folk carries the penalty of death by hanging."
Realizing he had pushed the accusation too far, Richard quickly spoke up. "My Lord, it was not dark magic…"
Before Richard could finish, the surrounding crowd erupted into loud protests. Dozens of townsfolk dropped to their knees in the dirt, begging the young Count for mercy and pleading with him not to harm their Master.
I had to suppress a laugh. Watching an arrogant lord get openly disobeyed by his own subjects on his home turf was priceless.
[Leonardo Affection decreased to -15]
Oops. Looks like I hit a nerve.
Leonardo's face flushed with fury. He looked from me to Clara. "Were it not for the fact that your death would drag down the most radiant lady of this realm, I would string you from the battlements this very instant."
Clara caught my eye, giving me a warning shake of her head.
I took a breath, turned toward the kneeling crowd, and waved my hand. "People of Falkenreach, I must depart to spread the good taste elsewhere. Until we meet again!"
The townsfolk wept openly as our horses pulled away.
At the moment, it felt strangely moving.
But thinking about it later, the scene looked less like disciples bidding farewell to a prophet and more like desperate addicts crying after their dealer skipped town.
They weren't mourning my departure; they were mourning the sudden withdrawal from modern taste.