Chapter 51
“Now that you mention it, that makes sense.”
For everyone to get food poisoning at once, they all must have consumed the same contaminated source. And oysters were always a polarizing ingredient — some people salivated at the thought of a rich oyster stew, while others gagged just imagining the slimy texture.
Marienne turned to the female committee member and asked,
“How many contestants are there in total?”
“There are forty this year — a little more than usual.”
Would not even one of those forty dislike the smell of seafood?
Vailleon ordered someone to bring the meal plan. The mustached male committee member searched through a drawer and handed it over.
“Deputy Didi, please review it.”
“…Me?”
“Yes.”
At Vailleon’s words, the man passed the sheet to Marienne. She examined the menu carefully.
The dinner from two nights ago included oyster cream stew, white bread, spicy braised chicken, mushrooms stuffed with minced tomato and cheese, biscuits with strawberry jam, salad, half an apple, and a small plum pie for dessert.
It wasn’t that the contestants had to starve, but for a beauty pageant training camp, the calorie count seemed rather high.
“The meals are quite lavish, aren’t they?”
“Well, this year’s festival is hosted by His Highness the Second Prince. His order was to make sure everything is done to the highest standard.”
Marienne looked through the other days’ menus. The woman’s words were true — that dinner wasn’t a special feast. The meals had all been on that level throughout the entire week of training.
A full week of such meals — they’d gain at least a few kilograms before it was over.
“I mean, it does sound delicious…”
“Sorry?”
“Oh, nothing. Um, do the contestants eat all of this when served?”
The female committee member shook her head slightly.
“They start by asking for very small portions.”
“I thought so.”
There were 21 meal entries in total, and none of the menus repeated — except for one thing: the salad, served at every meal.
Marienne suspected this might be their main food source. The female committee member confirmed it.
“They always finish the salad completely.”
“All forty of them?”
“Yes.”
Marienne handed the menu back to Vailleon, having completed her review.
“At first glance, it sounds like undercooked or spoiled oysters were the cause… but for all forty contestants to fall ill, they must have all eaten the same dish.”
She tapped the salad section with her finger.
“Unwashed raw vegetables can also cause food poisoning. Sometimes livestock feces contaminate the produce during cultivation, or the water used for washing is polluted. And since they all ate every bit of salad each time…”
“That certainly makes that the more likely cause,” Vailleon said naturally.
One of the committee members suddenly looked stricken, then ran out of the room. When he returned, he reported that he had already dismissed the oyster supplier.
So they had already chosen a scapegoat, detained him somewhere, and were ready to shift the blame.
If this crisis hadn’t been resolved quickly, they would have reported to the Second Prince that the oyster supplier was responsible. The poor man, trembling as he signed a confession, would likely have left a bloody fingerprint beside it.
Maybe the strange smell from the stew had only been a matter of personal preference. But would the hot-tempered Second Prince bother to think that far?
Even if the oysters had actually spoiled, under normal circumstances the supplier would’ve only received a fine. But the cunning and cruel Second Prince would’ve added more charges and ultimately had him executed.
‘So they’ve already found someone for the Prince to take out his anger on. He’s always fast when it comes to that sort of thing. If only he’d move that quickly when it comes to solving problems.’
Marienne shook her head inwardly.
“If the oyster supplier’s been dismissed, are you planning to lock up the vegetable supplier next?”
Vailleon asked mildly. The male committee member looked flustered.
“Wh-what? But didn’t Chancellor Beers just say that the salad was the cause?”
“If you’ve already sent out an arrest order, go cancel it.”
“Pardon? B-but—”
“There’s been an incident, yes. But we still have three days before the festival. If we can come up with a way to proceed smoothly, His Highness won’t seek to punish anyone.”
The committee members exchanged uneasy glances. They all knew it would be wonderful if things went as smoothly as he said — but that was easier said than done.
“The contestants are in no condition to go on stage. The doctors said they’ll need at least a week to recover.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen them in person. Actually… it’s better that you don’t. You really shouldn’t.”
“And recruiting new contestants will be difficult. Even if there are volunteers, all the outstanding ladies are already hospitalized or quarantined.”
When Vailleon showed understanding instead of blame, the committee began lamenting their troubles.
After listening quietly, Vailleon turned to Marienne.
“This is the situation. What do you think, Deputy Didi?”
“My opinion?”
“Yes. I’m curious to hear your thoughts. Strictly speaking, the oyster supplier was released thanks to you — you identified the more likely cause from the menu, after all.”
Every strained face turned to Marienne, full of expectation that she’d produce another brilliant idea.
‘This is getting awkward.’
One of the men in the back even seemed on the verge of tears.
Don’t cry! The only men allowed to cry in romance stories are tragic pretty boys!
‘Alright. Let’s fix this fast.’
Marienne came up with an idea — one without even a grain of selfish motive.
“If it’s hard to hold a beauty contest for women… then why not hold one for men?”
Their expressions were priceless.
“But Deputy Didi, this is the Empire’s Flower Pageant. Historically, the Empire’s Flower has always been an unmarried woman.”
“Then this year’s Empire’s Flower can be an unmarried man.”
“Ha ha… that’s a good joke.”
“How could a man be the Empire’s Flower?”
They laughed — until they saw Marienne’s serious face. Someone muttered,
“…Would it really matter?”
“Now, think about it. The top female contestants are all sick. Sadly, they can’t participate. So we just flip the concept entirely.”
Marienne picked up a piece of chalk and wrote on the board in large letters:
The First-Ever Handsome Youth Contest
Then she drew two bold lines under “First-Ever.”
“Endless publicity potential!”
Next, she drew a star above “Handsome Youth.”
“And public enthusiasm!”
“How do those two connect…?”
“Because women’s hearts are the public enthusiasm.”
The others burst out laughing again, thinking she was joking. Only the female committee member placed a hand over her heart.
“I haven’t been joking. Why do you all keep laughing?”
Marienne frowned slightly.
“Unlike the sick contestants, the men in the first group are perfectly fine. Imagine a stage full of handsome young men, each smiling shyly — do you know how much that would stir women’s hearts? And on top of that, it’s the first ever event of its kind! The First-Ever!”
The laughter faded as they began to realize she was serious.
She explained that with proper publicity, the short preparation time wouldn’t matter. Recruiting male contestants would be easy.
“Does anyone have a better idea? If so, speak up.”
No one did. They began to whisper among themselves, slowly accepting that this might be the only viable solution.
After a while, one middle-aged man stepped forward on behalf of the group.
“From now on, we’ll follow Deputy Didi’s direction for the contest. We’ve judged only women for years — now that we must judge men, we honestly don’t know where to start.”
“So we’d like to appoint you as a special judge, if you’ll accept.”
“Yes, please, Deputy Didi.”
They all bowed deeply.
Marienne hesitated. She was only here accompanying the chancellor — offering advice was one thing, but becoming an official judge was something else entirely.
She glanced at Vailleon, mouthing silently, What should I do?
He mouthed back, Do you want to?
Then added aloud, “Whatever you decide, I’ll support it.”
His expression showed he meant it.
Marienne hesitated for a moment, then made her decision.
“Alright…”
She nodded. “I’ll accept the position.”
“Ah, thank you! What a relief.”
It was far too soon for relief, but they all looked visibly lighter.
Marienne then said that, aside from the sole female committee member, she’d need a few more judges.
Of course, she wasn’t planning to seat all these gloomy-looking men on the panel.
“With Chancellor Beers’ permission, I’d like to select two male judges myself.”
Vailleon smiled faintly.
“Let’s leave it to Deputy Didi.”
“Thank you.”
Marienne dipped her head in acknowledgment, then approached the nearest middle-aged male committee member. He seemed uneasy, suddenly being the one under evaluation for a change.
“Tell me, what do you think makes a man attractive?”
“Ahem, well, a man should be… responsible and hardworking—”
“Disqualified!”
The rejection came as fast as the question. The man dabbed at his sweating forehead, confused as to what he’d done wrong.
Marienne moved on to the next.
“Same question. What’s a man’s charm?”
“A hairy chest?”
“Are you crazy? Disqualified!”
And so it continued — ridiculous answers one after another.
For heaven’s sake, this is a handsomeness contest, not a job interview! What would they even do with “responsibility” — show off their bank statements? And chest hair? What on earth— were you talking about yourself just now? Because if so, I’ll never forgive you for that mental image!
After a series of quick eliminations, Marienne finally stopped in front of the mustached man. It was time to change up the question.
“By what criteria would you score the male contestants?”
He looked tense, but answered carefully.
“I think… we should judge them by the same standards as the female contestants — whether their smiles are charming, their posture graceful, their figures well-proportioned. After all, beauty’s criteria don’t differ that much… I believe.”
Marienne raised her eyebrows.
“Go on.”
