Civil Servant in Romance Fantasy

It was a strange turn of events—a Duke who had reached the pinnacle of magic was now striving to master the art of pastry-making. Could it be that the Mage Duchess, who had left an indelible mark on continental history, had wandered down an odd path… all because of me?

“Isn’t it a good thing? She’s lived her whole life without a hobby, but now she finally found something she enjoys even if it’s a little late.”

Marghetta’s words made a lot of sense. Generally, a Duke’s private life wasn’t a topic even the Ministry of Intelligence could freely discuss. But nobilities, being part of society, socialize. Thus, their hobbies and tastes naturally circulated within certain social circles. It wasn’t like they only met with the blind, deaf, or mute, so it was inevitable that these details leaked out.

Yet, despite over a century of ruling, very little was known about the Mage Duchess. As a child, she had avoided the public eye due to her elven heritage, and she dedicated herself entirely to magic and kept very few personal connections when she became a Duke. Even if she did get close to someone, they would inevitably age and pass away before too long.

“She must have been so lonely all this time. Her closest vassals have passed, and the other mages of her generation were gone, too. That must be why she chose to focus on magic.”

Her sympathetic tone tugged at my heartstrings.

She was right. The Mage Duchess, with her extremely limited relationships and the natural distance created by her mixed race, had spent her entire life isolated in her tower, pouring herself into magic. That choice had earned her the title of the ‘Mage Duchess,’ but it had also left her without even a decent hobby. Her life, despite the honor and prestige, must have been quite boring.

“I never thought of it that way.”

I felt a bit ashamed for mocking her newfound passion for baking. Shouldn’t I be celebrating the fact that my fiancée, who once knew nothing beyond magic, had found a new hobby to enjoy? Yet, I thought of it as something strange instead of congratulating her.

I thought I’d shaken off my prejudices about her, especially since I’d started calling her by name and even spoke informally with her. Yet, deep down, I was still full of assumptions. I even unconsciously decided that it was absurd for the noble, refined Mage Duchess to dabble in something as trivial as pastry-making.

“Fufu, don’t dwell on it too much. I doubt u…unnie would want you to feel guilty over something like this.”

Marghetta consoled me with a soft voice after a pause. I almost laughed after hearing her stutter as she said ‘unnie’ so shyly but I held it in, not wanting to ruin the progress she’d made. If I laughed now, she might slip back to using the more formal ‘Mage Duchess.’

“Do you think so?”

“Yes. So cheer her on and make sure you try whatever she makes. Telling her it’s delicious would be even better.”

“Of course, I’ll do that.”

Who in their right mind would insult the food someone worked hard on? Besides, my tastes are pretty simple, so I’ll eat it as long as she doesn’t put in any strange ingredients—

Wait… strange ingredients?

It suddenly hit me that her baking teacher was Louise, the very same Louise who had a talent for including odd ingredients and who made creations during the 77th season that even her love-struck suitors couldn’t stomach. Somehow, only my dulled taste buds could endure those… strange flavors.

Sure, Louise had eventually learned to bake properly, so the Mage Duchess should be fine. However, there was always the chance she’d lose control and teach her one of her ‘special’ recipes.

It’ll be fine… right?

Yeah, it should be fine. If the worst-case scenario happened and the food turned out weird, I’d just hold my breath and chew through it. After all, what someone just starting a hobby needed was encouragement and not criticism.

Knock knock—

“Marghetta, may I come in?”

While I was steeling myself for whatever might come, I heard Amelia’s voice outside the door.

“Yes, come in.”

The door creaked open carefully with Marghetta’s permission, revealing Amelia with a plate full of pastries in hand. Judging by the way they were piled on, she must have scrambled to prepare them as soon as I arrived.

Honestly, I didn’t need the snacks; I already had my fill of treats back in the clubroom. Still, it wouldn’t be polite to decline a guest’s offering. Besides, Amelia’s spirit was as fragile as crystal under the pressure of nobility—one wrong word and she might shatter—so I had to tread carefully.

“Hello, Executive Manager.”

“Yes, it’s been a while.”

At least she was doing better than last year. Back then, she would practically tremble as if she were standing before the Mage Duchess himself whenever she saw me.

“So, you’re the new Treasurer? That’s impressive especially since you just joined the Student Council in your second year.”

“Thank you! It’s all thanks to you, Executive Manager.”

Amelia bowed deeply at a 90-degree angle at my casual praise.

But honestly, my praise wasn’t just for show. It really was impressive. Student Council officers usually started from their first year, but Amelia had joined in her second year and still secured a key position. She was a true ‘rolling stone’ who had displaced others to earn her place. Her talent must be exceptional—perhaps it was her commoner status that had fueled her drive to succeed at the academy.

And the fact that no one was whispering about her accomplishments showed that she had proven herself beyond doubt.

“I’m sure you’ll do great as Treasurer no matter where you go.”

“Yes! I’ll work hard!”

Her reply was filled with a robust enthusiasm this time thanks to my subtle hint about a recommendation letter.

That was also the reason she wasn’t as nervous this year. Watching last year’s student council officers walk off with my recommendations and securing bright futures clearly sparked Amelia’s ambition. As a commoner student, she craved success more than anyone else. To her, I must look like a walking treasure chest.

Of course, Amelia was like a duck carrying a leek as far as I was concerned—a treasure waiting to be put to good use. She was practically begging for my endorsement, so of course I’d give it to her.

Both sisters are quite the talents.

Her sister, Olivia, was already the Vice Representative of the Disciplinary Committee. She’d undoubtedly become the Representative next year, and I’d write her a recommendation to the military. It was thrilling just thinking about it. This academy was truly a gold mine.

***The debate club was a temporary haven for students who had failed to join the pastry club en masse.

The official excuse was that it was a place for those who weren’t proficient at baking to practice, but any student with half a brain could see that this was just a holding cell. It was only because Tannian, the next Saint, had led the charge that everyone kept quiet about it. And it was true that the original pastry club members had actual baking skills, which was why they followed along.

Luckily for me, I hadn’t enrolled to study under the Mage Duchess but to serve Prince Lather, so I wasn’t too disappointed.

“Her Grace will visit the debate club. Not every day, but she’ll probably come once a week.”

Lather also told me that, so there was no need for me to feel let down.

That valuable bit of information quickly swept away any disappointment I had. Still, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little hurt when I failed to join the pastry club. Besides, I had come all this way to serve him. We’d known each other since childhood, so I couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt when I was lumped together with other students.

But his care for me was genuine. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have shared such crucial information about the Mage Duchess.

“Is this the debate club?”

The Mage Duchess had asked the day she first descended upon us.

I was able to maintain my composure thanks to that inside information, unlike the other members who were practically losing their minds with excitement. Maintaining my dignity had an unexpected outcome—the Mage Duchess noticed me.

“A mage must remain logical and composed at all times, no matter the situation. It seems you’ve already mastered that.”

Hearing those words felt like I had been handed the world. To receive such praise from the Mage Duchess, someone who had reached the pinnacle of magic—there couldn’t be a greater compliment in existence.

“What’s your name?”

“I am Rachel Sorta of the United Kingdom of Yuben.”

“Ah, so you’re the one Prince Lather spoke of.”

I almost cried when I realized that he had mentioned my name to the Mage Duchess. It was proof that he had been thinking of me.

From that day on, the Mage Duchess would visit the club once a week. Even though we only received her teachings for half of our club time, everyone was beyond grateful. After all, mages wouldn’t even get a minute of her instruction outside the academy, so we had nothing to complain about.

“Just sitting through classes must get boring. Help yourselves to some treats.”

The Mage Duchess said one day while placing a basket on the desk.

Inside were perfectly bite-sized cookies. Not only had the Mage Duchess personally prepared them, but they were a rare gift from her—a true honor for any mage. Still, there was a part of me that wished we could spend this time learning instead of eating…

“I made them myself. I hope they suit your tastes.”

The moment she said she made them and not bought them, it became clear—we had to eat them.

Our attitudes shifted in an instant, and we flocked to the desk, each grabbing a single cookie. Taking only one each was likely the last bit of rationality we could muster.

So the Mage Duchess bakes too?

It was surprising. I would’ve thought she wouldn’t spare a glance at anything that wasn’t related to magic—or that she’d use magic to do it if she did bake. Yet, here she was, baking cookies by hand.

Actually, there had been some minor grumbling among the club members since the creation of the debate club. While mages as symbols of intellect didn’t mind debating, some questioned the necessity of learning pastry-making on top of that. But now, with the Mage Duchess herself engaging in baking, those complaints were sure to disappear.

Huh?

As I took a small bite of the cookie in appreciation, I felt something… strange.

…Is my mana circulation increasing?

It wasn’t my imagination. The flow of mana within my body had noticeably sped up. It felt like a blockage had been cleared, allowing my mana to move more smoothly.

Why was this happening? Everything had been normal just moments ago.

Oh.

It hit me as soon as I swallowed the cookie. This was it. The cookie was the cause. There was no other variable, and the change had occurred right after I swallowed it.

Glancing around, I saw that others had noticed too. Some were now quickly eating their cookies, while others stared at the Mage Duchess in stunned silence. That a simple cookie could affect mana was a concept beyond our comprehension—it was an achievement of a realm far above us.

Is this what it takes to qualify as a pastry club member?

I couldn’t think clearly as the Mage Duchess smiled gently and my mana flowed intensely within me.

***Everyone seemed to be enjoying the cookies, which was a relief. That meant they tasted fine.

I can give some to baby now.

A soft smile formed on my lips. I could finally give baby a cookie I had made myself. How could I not be happy about that?

Although I hadn’t yet mastered bread, macarons, or cakes, which were still too advanced for me, it was important not to get ahead of myself. If I tried too much too soon, I wouldn’t even lay a proper foundation. For now, I had to be content with cookies.

Will he like it?

Just imagining baby eating the cookie with joy and gently patting my head in praise made my ears twitch with excitement.