#57. Active Role (7)
“They’re recipes for various dishes using Karto.”
Sasha explained.
“They range from the foods we served the nobles yesterday to simple recipes that anyone can cook easily. I’ve organized and written them all down.”
Ivan looked at the stack of recipes with newfound awe.
“The castle chefs followed these recipes exactly and even taste-tested them, so I can guarantee the flavor. I also tried to use ingredients that are easy to find and inexpensive, aside from Karto.”
“…”
“When you publish it, give it a fitting title, like Karto Recipes from the Grand Duke’s Estate. Remember the method we used last time?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Make the title enticing enough to spark admiration and curiosity, so as many people as possible will buy it.”
After a moment of thought, Sasha continued.
“It could even be split into two volumes. One with easy recipes, printed on thin, cheap paper so it spreads widely. The other with more complex recipes and rare ingredients, bound in hardcover, to sell at a high price.”
This, too, was a calculated decision.
For peasants struggling to survive day to day, trying to imitate nobles’ meals would be like a sparrow chasing a stork.
They couldn’t afford extravagant luxuries, so Sasha designed recipes that wouldn’t strain their means.
She included detailed illustrations of each step in a clear style so even the illiterate could follow along.
On the other hand, the wealthier middle class and nobles, no matter the cost, would always want something special.
For them, Sasha added elements that appealed to vanity: rare and expensive ingredients, complicated cooking steps, long elegant descriptions.
“Take all of that into account.”
The more Sasha explained, the more Ivan’s lips parted until, by the end, his face flushed red with excitement.
“My lady, you…!”
He stammered, struggling to speak, before finally managing,
“How do you come up with such ideas? Things I’d never even imagined—so revolutionary, so ingenious…”
What followed was a string of florid praise: Our lady is truly extraordinary!
Sasha, long accustomed to such reactions, listened with a calm smile, letting his words wash past.
She paused briefly before replying.
“Well… I just kept wondering. How can we make the duchy prosper? How can the people of our lands live content, fulfilling lives? And the ideas came to me naturally.”
“My lady…”
Ivan’s eyes shimmered.
Feeling his emotion becoming a bit overwhelming, Sasha quickly changed the subject before he could say more.
“I’d like the project to move as quickly as possible. Preferably before the end of next month. And ensure that both Karto and this recipe book spread as far as possible—even to the small villages along the border.”
Ivan bowed, promising it would be done. Sasha rose and moved to the window.
“The sooner we change people’s perception of Karto, the better. I want them to have food when they’re hungry—to eat Karto without shame.”
She gazed up at the sky. The tall, clear blue seemed to open her heart just by looking at it.
But she knew it wouldn’t last.
That clear sky—the same sky that would soon withhold its rain—would soon become hateful. The drought the spirits had warned of was now very close.
I’ve done all I can.
Now all that was left was to entrust the rest to the heavens and wait.
Clenching her fists, Sasha resolved herself.
The recipe book Sasha had ordered, Karto Recipes from the Grand Duke’s Estate, became a sensation.
It was only natural.
Until now, cooking methods had been limited to roasting, boiling, or frying.
At best, the natural flavor of the ingredients could be preserved, but without ways to store food for long, nobles often relied on spice-heavy dishes.
People were bored of the same flavors, and while there had been attempts at new cooking methods,
Compared to my recipes, they’re child’s play.
With the memories of twenty-two past lives, Sasha knew countless ways of cooking.
Even if she hadn’t had a deep passion for food, survival had often forced her to cook, and all that experience remained stored in her palace of memories.
Her past lives had spanned entirely different worlds, eras, civilizations, and environments.
Thanks to that, Sasha had broadened her culinary horizons far beyond what anyone here could imagine.
If asked who in this world had the most refined palate, Sasha would have confidently named herself.
This body’s tongue might be a bit dull from lack of early training, but I still carry the knowledge in my head.
Thus, when Sasha’s recipes were followed, the result was dishes unusual, unique—and delicious.
People accustomed to plain flavors were stunned, as though struck by a culinary revelation.
Word spread quickly, and the recipe book reached even the farthest edges of the north.
The profits from its sales were considerable, but the greatest benefit was the successful spread of Karto throughout the region.
Every recipe in the book used Karto as a basic ingredient, so anyone who wanted to cook them had to obtain it.
By the time every household had sacks of Karto piled up,
the terrible drought struck.
The ground cracked open. Crops, starved of water, withered and died.
Then, as if to mock them, hail suddenly fell from the clear sky.
Rumors spread that the heavens were angry, that a curse had fallen.
A famine—unprecedented, with nothing left to eat—
almost happened.
If not for the Karto, newly cultivated just two months earlier.
The peasants reacted first.
“Without this, we’d all have starved to death!”
A farmer, clutching Karto in both hands, cried with joy.
“Truly, if not for Karto, we would have…”
“Long live the little madam!”
“She’s so wise!”
The very peasants who had once doubted Sasha’s orders now sang her praises.
The nobles, too—those who had hesitantly agreed to distribute Karto—could not hide their astonishment.
“There are hardly any deaths from starvation.”
“Every other crop has withered, but this Karto endures stubbornly.”
Indeed.
Thanks to the Karto Sasha had so strongly promoted, the north was spared from the great famine.
Meanwhile, the south—with its vast granaries—and the capital, with its bustling trade, both suffered severe damage.
Yet the north, always the most vulnerable to food shortages, remained untouched.
“This year, we don’t have to beg the southerners for food!”
“Hah! A southern merchant came to ask why we weren’t buying grain. The look on his face when I told him we didn’t need any—priceless!”
The northerners, remembering the stunned merchant, laughed uproariously.
Every year, the south had profited from the north’s hardships. To finally turn the tables was immensely satisfying.
And their thoughts turned back to Sasha.
At first, she had seemed nothing more than a pitiful southern girl, sold into marriage.
Many assumed she’d leave once her husband, the Grand Duke, passed away. She didn’t even feel like one of them.
After Count Tula’s downfall, she oddly gained the Grand Duke’s trust, stirring jealousy.
When the Gorky family scandal erupted, new rumors spread: that she had discovered everything first, that she’d been entrusted by the Grand Duke to resolve it wisely.
But most dismissed the tale, believing it exaggerated.
At best, they credited her with some unusual artistic taste—since the scandal had started with forged antiques sold by a merchant connected to the Gorkys.
As time passed and Sasha continued to fulfill her duties flawlessly, the whispers grew louder again.
Many had expected her to cry, fail, or falter soon enough.
Even with competent noble aides supporting her, if Sasha had been truly incompetent, rumors of failure would have leaked.
But behind the tightly closed doors of Velikorodo Castle, only praise for Sasha emerged.
Some began to wonder if perhaps she really did possess exceptional abilities.
Public opinion gradually shifted in her favor.
And then, Sasha suddenly promoted the crop once called “the devil’s filth”—Karto.
Her detractors laughed, saying she had finally overreached, that her incompetence was now plain for all to see.
But what was the outcome?
“Our little madam is remarkable.”
“Her arrival in the north is our greatest fortune!”
“The Grand Duke is blessed to have such a wife.”
Now, no one whispered that Sasha was unfit to serve as regent.
Alexandra Volkoff was, without question, the precious and irreplaceable Regent of the Volkoff Duchy.
