The Grand Duke's Soulmate

Chapter 605: A Taste of Certainty

Luke sat with his gaze lowered, his posture weighed down by a sombre air that clung to him.

Before him rested a large bowl of fish chowder. The aroma rose warmly, rich and inviting—yet it did little to stir his appetite, much less his spirit.

Around him, the others had already begun helping themselves, ladling the steaming broth into their own bowls. The scent alone was enough to awaken their hunger, drawing them in without resistance.

Eli was the first to take a bite.

His eyes widened almost immediately as the savoury flavour spread across his tongue. He then glanced at the others, as if to confirm what he had just tasted.

"...Is it really the same as hers?" Noah asked, leaning forward slightly.

Alex and Drystan shared the same curiosity. The three of them had never tasted Anna’s cooking before—they had not been present during the journey to Port Braska—and could only rely on the others’ words.

Eli slowed, smacking his lips thoughtfully as he tried to recall.

"Well... I can’t say for sure if it’s exactly the same," he admitted. "But this—this is definitely good."

And with that, he resumed eating without hesitation.

Luke remained silent.

Across from him, Eric lifted a spoonful and tasted it.

His brows rose, a faint look of surprise crossing his face before it settled into something more contemplative.

"It does resemble her cooking," he said slowly. "But it’s hard to be certain. It’s been a long time since I last tasted it."

"It is hers!"

Luke’s hand struck the table with a sharp crack as he shot to his feet. The sudden outburst halted the others mid-meal, all eyes turning to him in surprise.

"I’m the one who taught her to cook," he went on, his voice firm, almost heated. "I know this recipe. This is the fish chowder she made on the cog ship!"

"Calm down," Eric replied, though his tone remained steady. "This isn’t something we can conclude lightly. If you’re saying she made this... then you’re claiming she’s here."

"That’s exactly what I’m saying!" Luke shot back. "She is here. She must have been at that tavern. She cooked this—I’m certain of it."

"But the tavern owner said no royals were there," Alex interjected. "Only two court ladies, and they left when their superior arrived."

"Also, their descriptions don’t match her," Noah added. "One had red hair and brown eyes. The other with black hair and blue eyes. It couldn’t have been her."

Luke let out a heavy breath.

The scent, the taste... everything about the chowder told him the same thing. He was sure of it.

And yet—

When he had reached the tavern, the trail had already gone cold.

The court lady, who was said to have prepared the dish, had left with her companion, concluding their stay and departing not long before his arrival.

It was a miss.

Had he arrived even a few minutes earlier, he might have seen her and confirmed it with his own eyes.

But that chance had slipped past him.

He had searched the surrounding streets afterwards, scanning the crowd, moving through the bustling lanes of the Lantern Festival to find them, but the sheer number of people made it impossible.

Faces blurred, voices overlapped, and in the end, his search yielded nothing. Reluctantly, he returned to the tavern and pressed for more details about the two court ladies.

However, the owner had been less than helpful. His attention had already shifted back to reopening the tavern after the earlier reservation was ended. Luke’s questions were brushed aside, and answers were kept simple.

He had tried to get a taste of the chowder then, but the owner refused at first. It was only after some insistence—and an unreasonable price—that he finally relented, allowing Luke to return with the pot.

And the moment the broth touched his tongue, the knight knew.

There was no doubt that it was Anna’s cooking.

"...What if," Drystan spoke at last, breaking his silence, "our lady has changed her appearance?"

The others turned towards him.

"Is that even possible?" Eli asked, brows furrowing.

One by one, the other knights’ gazes shifted, the same thought forming across their minds.

Drystan lifted his eyes, meeting theirs.

"I remember my grandfather-in-law once mentioning something," he said. "Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Regina—during her escape from Engarth to Cassian—had altered her hair and eye colour... she changed them to avoid being recognised."

He then added, "Our lady should possess that same ability. It would come to her naturally."

A glimmer of hope appeared on Luke’s face.

"Empress Regina was a Mederian," Alex pointed out. "That kind of magic would have come from her lineage and passed down through her blood."

"Possible," Drystan agreed. "From what I was told, those who carry that ability can alter the colour of their hair and eyes, but nothing beyond that. Their other features remain the same."

He lowered his voice slightly.

"Even so, they can’t replicate emerald eyes. That colour belongs solely to the Great Khasif, the symbol of her power. It’s not something that can be imitated."

"And the owner did mention that the lady with the black hair and blue eyes was petite..." Noah added, lending weight to the possibility.

"Then... there’s a chance it really is her!" Eli exclaimed. "We should go find her!"

"What are we waiting for?" Luke pressed, already in full spirit.

"Hold on," Eric cut in. "Not so fast. We’re working on assumptions here. There’s no concrete proof yet. We can’t even confirm that she’s the one who made this dish."

"Are you doubting me?" Luke shot back. "I learned everything from my father, the royal cook. I can tell what goes into a dish just by tasting it."

"I’m not doubting your skill," the second-in-command knight replied calmly. "But think about it. How does it make sense for her to suddenly appear here, cooking in some tavern, when she’s supposed to be in Semeta?"

He looked around, letting the thought settle among the others.

"Do you really think His Highness Prince Kiev would allow her to wander freely after everything that’s happened? If anything, he’d be keeping her under close watch."

Everyone was quiet.

Though unwelcome, Eric’s reasoning was not without merit. They had all witnessed the Mederian Prince’s fury after the incident befalling Anna and Callis. It was not the kind of anger that faded easily.

If anything, it would have driven him to tighten his grip even further. His resolve to protect them—especially Anna—had been absolute.

Perhaps... too absolute.

So much so that he had even left his own wife behind.

"Eric!"

The second-in-command knight turned as three figures entered the dining room where they had gathered: Kyren, Rafe, and Armel trailing behind the two men.

The voice had come from their captain—the grand duke.

At once, the knights rose and bowed in respect.

"Armel said there was something important to discuss," Kyren said, his gaze settling on them. "What is it?"

"This better be worth the interruption," Rafe added, though his tone carried more fatigue than irritation. "I still have a line of patients waiting. Thankfully, the new hands are managing for now."

"Actually... it wasn’t my call," Eric replied. "Luke has something to report, and he insisted on having both you and Joseph present. That’s why I sent Armel to fetch you."

"Armel found me at the guard post," Kyren said, his eyes shifting briefly towards Rafe. "Why didn’t you come sooner?"

The two had crossed paths by chance—arriving at the dining room from opposite ends at nearly the same time.

"One of the patients collapsed all of a sudden," Rafe replied. "I had to perform resuscitation. He stabilised, so I handed him over to the others and came as soon as I could."

He glanced at Kyren. "And you? What were you doing at the guard post?"

"I went to follow up on that group from earlier," Kyren answered. "As expected, they’ve already filed a complaint against us. It won’t be long before officers from Semeta arrive. I needed to make sure everything is in order according to the plan."

"Perhaps we won’t have to wait for them," Luke suddenly spoke up.

All eyes turned to him.

"I have reason to believe... that Lady Raychard is here. On this island. Close by."

Kyren, Rafe, and Armel stilled at once, their expressions shifting as they heard the claim.

The grand duke quickly stepped forward, his gaze intensifying.

"Explain," the grand duke demanded.

Luke did not hesitate.

He briefly recounted what he had found—how the familiar aroma guided him to a small tavern, how he had managed to obtain the dish, and how he immediately recognised it upon tasting.

His gaze shifted to the pot on the table.

"I brought it back as proof."

No one spoke for a moment.

Eric started first.

"A familiar taste isn’t good evidence," he said evenly. "And disguises or not, we’re building assumptions on too little."

Luke’s jaw tightened, but he did not argue.

Instead, he stepped aside and gestured towards the table.

"Then taste it," he said. "The others have already tried, but none of them can say for certain."

Armel blinked, glancing between them.

"I have never tasted Lady Raychard’s cooking before," he admitted. "I wouldn’t know how to compare it."

Luke turned, his gaze fixing on the remaining two.

"Then what about you, Captain? And you, Joseph?" he pressed. "You’ve both had it before. Surely you can tell."

Rafe, standing nearest, reached for the bowl. He took a measured sip, letting the flavour settle onto his tongue.

For a brief moment, his expression shifted—subtle and thoughtful.

Then he exhaled softly.

"...It’s good," he said. "Very good. But I can’t confirm."

His hand lowered as he shook his head.

"I’ve been working with herbs and remedies all day. My tongue’s dulled from it. Everything blends right now. I can’t distinguish it properly."

Meanwhile, Kyren remained where he stood.

One of the knights had already set the bowl before him. Steam rose faintly from its surface, the rich aroma drifting through the air. He could smell it—distinct, familiar in a way that stirred something deep within him.

But he did not reach for it.

"We know you don’t eat fish," Luke said. "You only ever ate the one cooked by Lady Raychard. But it wouldn’t hurt to try."

"Fine," Kyren said at last, his tone flat. "I’ll take a sip."

He picked up the spoon and brought it to his lips.

The moment it touched his tongue, his expression shifted.

The flavour unfolded slowly at first, then deepened into a warm, layered richness. It stirred a sense within him that had long since dulled.

For the first time in what felt like forever—

He could taste again.

Ever since Anna left, food had lost its meaning. Meals had become nothing more than routine, taken only to sustain himself. Every bite had been the same: bland, hollow, and without distinction.

But this...

This dish was different.

The flavour was mild and almost gentle, yet it lingered long enough to awaken his taste buds—something he hadn’t realised was still there.

Subtly, his brows drew together.

"...There is a resemblance," he said.

His voice was low, measured.

"But something is different."

He put down the spoon, his gaze distant, as though searching for something he could not quite grasp.

"I can’t tell."

Luke answered at once.

"That’s because of the fish. This one uses halibut. Previously, she used snapper and codfish. That’s the difference."

Kyren put down the bowl and gave a small shake of his head, unconvinced.

"A resemblance is not certainty," he said, his voice calm but firm. "We cannot act on something this vague."

The words struck Luke harder than they sounded.

His expression tightened, frustration surfacing plainly across his face.

Rafe stepped in before it could rise further.

"Calm down," he said, his tone steady. "We didn’t come all this way to abandon our purpose over a suspicion."

He met his gaze, more measured now.

"I know you’re eager. I understand that. But I agree with Eric. We shouldn’t rush this. Everything is moving as planned. Let it unfold."

Silence lingered for a brief moment.

Kyren’s eyes lowered slightly, his thoughts unreadable.

Then—

"We leave it for now," he decided. "The festival begins tonight. The streets will be too crowded. Searching blindly will only waste time. It will be like looking for a needle in a haystack."

He paused.

"If it is truly her... then we will meet when the time comes."

A faint breath followed.

"I trust that much."

With that, he turned.

"I have matters to attend to."

Rafe gave Luke one last glance—firm, yet not without understanding—before stepping away as well.

"I need to return to the patients," he said. "Don’t dwell on it."

The two of them left, followed by Armel. The room grew quiet in their absence.

After a moment, Drystan let out a small sigh and lifted his bowl.

"Well... we might as well finish this dish," he said lightly. "It’d be a waste otherwise."

The others agreed and resumed eating, the earlier tension easing into a quieter atmosphere.

All except Luke, who remained seated, his gaze lowered, unmoving. Even as the bowl was placed before him, he made no move to eat. His frustration persisted, even after a decision had been made.

One by one, the others finished and began to disperse, until only two remained.

Noah approached and sat next to the gloomy knight.

"I know you’re frustrated," he said quietly. "Say... if it’s just to satisfy your curiosity, I can help you look."

Luke looked up, a flicker of life returning to his eyes.

"You would?"

Noah nodded and asked, "What else do you have?"

Luke thought for a moment, recalling his conversation with the tavern owner. Then his fingers snapped.

"I know the name of the court lady who made the reservation—the red-haired one. It was written in the booking ledger," he said. "It wouldn’t be false. The tavern owner uses it for tax records. It even bore her signature, along with a seal impressed beside it."

Noah’s lips curved up.

"That’s a start. Let’s find her."

Luke frowned.

"How? Captain already said it’s almost impossible."

Noah’s smile deepened.

"It won’t be... if we’re willing to pay for the right information."

"...Information?"

Noah nodded.

"We have the means and the right person for that," he continued.

"Who?" Luke’s curiosity piqued.

"Mr Halven."

Realisation dawned. And for the first time since the discussion began, Luke’s face brightened.

"Lady Agnes Briar... I’ll find you for sure!" he muttered with a smile.