Volume 6, Chapter 23: The Banquet and the Food Taster Post (1/2)
Big shots claim that while banquets are something you want to enjoy in a carefree manner, it won’t turn out that way.
There’s a massive, long table occupying the centre of the room, lined by seats on either side. This is connected to a large table at the end, where his imperial majesty, the empress, Jinshi, as well as the guest—the priestess—will be seated.
The rest of the crowd was arranged symmetrically along both ends of the long table, with the arrangement identical to that of the garden party previously. If there was anything different, would it be the people sitting at the back of the room?
Maomao stood by the wall with an expression of “Can we end this quickly?” She looked around; food tasters, as over the top as they are, accompanied every important person—his imperial majesty, the guest, the empress, and others.
(This guy probably doesn’t need one.)
Wanting to spit out a keh, Maomao regarded the eccentric’s back. Barring that medium build, slightly hunched back, and slanted eyes bearing a monocle, he was a man of conspicuous and unconventional talent. The guy known as this country’s tactician.
For the most part, the title of tactician was in name only. Apparently, his rank was originally Grand Marshal, but Maomao had no idea what that even meant. It was just that as far as she could see from his seating, he was most likely quite a big shot.
(If you want a food taster, you’re better off not coming at all.)
The people around the weirdo tactician wore similar expressions. This useless old man is bothersome once he starts poking his nose into the affairs of those around him in his free time. The fact that he didn’t get complaints whenever he took a day off from events like the garden party or whatever, was probably because he’d be in the way if he did go.。
Without delay, the weirdo, seemingly free, started to chat with the man seated next to him, who looked to be a military official.
As Maomao watched with narrowed eyes, she yanked the cloth in her hands. The fabric, twisted into a long rope, was tied to the weirdo’s ankle at the other end. Every time she yanked, the weirdo would jolt. Afterwards, he would look back, make a somewhat satisfied expression, and straighten his back.
It was quite distasteful for him to look at her each time, but it couldn’t be helped. The miser Rahan had included his supervision on top of the food tasting post. Of course, she was in no mood to go along with him, but Dad had also entreated her. She was promised unusual imported medicine for next time as well, so she agreed. And so, like a cat that moves without ringing its own bell, she had tied a cord to the weirdo.
She sensed strange looks from those around them, but as it was normally this weirdo who got such looks, no one would say anything, so she decided to go along without paying attention to it.
Although it’s called a banquet, dining doesn’t begin right away—there were several introductions to be made. It was different to the outdoor garden party; there was no showy opening like a sword dance, but it was nice to hear pleasant-sounding music. Was the slight exotic air brimming from it an attempt to imitate Sha’ou music?
As if he had no interest in the music, the tactician took out a Go book from his breast pocket and started to read, so she tugged the cord again. She had absolutely no idea why his imperial majesty did not sentence this man to death by hanging.
The important looking people discussed matters importantly, and when conversations ceased, the dining began. Behind Jinshi stood En’en. Normally, his nanny Suiren would have wanted to come along, but many close attendants were young. Even the robust nanny will read the atmosphere in times like these and leave it to En’en.
(Seems like she got a nice promotion.)
This didn’t seem to be the case for the person in question. However, En’en kept glancing to the side, the reason being, like how Jinshi had En’en accompany him, the Sha’ou Priestess also had Yao with her. Yao’s complexion was a little poor, as though she was nervous.
En’en’s hollow, zombie-like demeanour from this morning had gained a little more life. However, it didn’t seem like she was free from her milady deficiency yet—she looked around, complaining with her eyes for the banquet to end quickly. She seemed worried about Yao’s terrible complexion.
Although they were painstakingly trained as court ladies who assisted court physicians, how everyone became food tasters in the end was a source of amusement for Maomao. Even though food tasting is usually left to the surplus of lower ranking people instead. Yao appeared to be a young lady with a good background, but the fact that her parents hadn’t stopped her was a little worrying.
(I taught her how to taste for poison though.)
It’s called food tasting, but when someone fails, they fail. It could be a new poison, or it could be a delayed onset type.
(In the end, people die when they die.)
Such was the case. But Maomao decided if she was going to die anyway, she wanted to die from a new type of poison. Would it be too ambitious of her to want to check for its toxicity before passing away?
As she entertained such thoughts, the meals were carried over.
As usual, she wanted to carry out the food tasting and end it quickly.
So Maomao thought as she accepted a small plate used for food tasting and glued her eyes on the weirdo tactician as she ate.
.
.
.
Once the meals began, the banquet ended. There would be a feast after this—Maomao, who didn’t know the difference between a banquet and a feast, could only sigh.
It seems there will be fewer people at the feast and the location will be changed. Yao and En’en had more work following this, but Maomao was done here, so she planned on leaving the room. Just as she was throwing away the tactician’s cord like a cat that doesn’t ring its own bell…
There was a thud. When she turned back to see what happened, a court lady had collapsed. When she wondered who it was, it was Yao.
“Milady!” En’en flew over. She tried to rouse Yao to see what had happened.
Maomao threw away the cord and approached the two. Yao was lying face down. There was vomit strewn all over the floor.
The court ladies in the vicinity screamed. It was as though they were shrieking, How rude of you to throw up in a place with big shots around, but that wasn’t the issue.
“Milady, Milady!”
Maomao slapped En’en’s cheeks. The latter was shaking Yao.
“Check if there’s anything still lodged in her throat. If her airways are blocked, she could suffocate.”
“…yes.” En’en was frantic, but as Maomao had instructed, she stuck her fingers inside Yao’s mouth. Yao seemed to be breathing, but she was trembling and clutching her stomach. Her pupils were dilated.
(The fact that Yao had collapsed means…)
How was the priestess? As Maomao turned to look, the priestess was already surrounded. The food taster alongside Yao also had tremors and a pale face. She was moving away while holding her hand over her mouth; the priestess was also distancing herself.
(The priestess had been served poison.)
Maomao had Yao put on an outer garment. As En’en kept calling “Milady, Milady,” with a pale face, Maomao thought about what she needed to do.
“Water, salt water, and…”