Chapter 3

They didn’t have enough, so she often starved and was beaten. Her body, because she did not eat properly, dried up like a piece of wood, and her skin and hair, which were not supplied with enough nutrients, became brittle. They treated Elena, once the daughter of a nobleman, like a maid. Perhaps because she had been doing odd jobs in the kitchen with the maids since she was a child, Elena was able to have quite good cooking skills. It was only because of her cooking skills that she was able to leave home at 17, eat and sleep in Bacchus, and work as the youngest chef in the kitchen. Elena didn’t mind the fact that she was a skinny girl with nowhere to go and nothing to do, except cook. It was okay that men didn’t pay attention to her because she wasn’t pretty.

If she could make money by cooking, she thought she would be able to live happily. Until she met Wood. Two years ago, Elena, who fell in love at first sight with Wood who came to dine with his knights, became ashamed of her appearance for the first time. Her stiff body, as thin as a tree branch, her back and calves with red marks from being beaten by relatives and adults when she was young, and her bony hands left with large burn marks from being burned while cooking. Unlike Wood, who was always shining, Elena was shabby. 

“Elena, Elena! What are you thinking? Do you do that?” 

The owner of the fruit shop tapped Elena, who was lost in thought, saying she had come to buy ingredients for the evening business.

The owner of the fruit shop, with a round face and gray hair, was a kind-hearted person who took good care of Elena like a daughter. When asked what she was thinking, her face turned red as if she had been caught thinking about Wood. Elena smiled awkwardly and shook her head. 

“It’s nothing.”

 “It’s nothing? Did you get scolded by the chef again at lunch? Why is that person making such a fuss because he can’t eat you when he sees you? There’s a kid like you who is good at cooking and works quietly and diligently.” 

“No, something like that.” The shopkeeper said to her, “You can be honest with me. I told you before, right? Your s chef, he’s obviously jealous of you. You’re much younger than he is. You may have a short career, but you are better at cooking. Don’t you know how scary men’s jealousy is?”

 “Oh, aunt. Stop it. If anyone hears it, I’ll be in trouble. “

“Anyway, you’re kind like a fool and you’re falling……” 

Since she had been working at Bacchus for over two years now, she had long since become accustomed to the chef’s grumpiness. However, when she first entered Bacchus at the age of 17, it was difficult for her to endure her daily life in the kitchen. The territorial attitude of senior chefs, including the head chef, the ridicule and disregard for a poor young woman with nobody to lean on, the days of practicing cooking in hiding and waiting for the day when she would become a full-time chef.

After the death of her parents, it was less painful than when she was living with my relatives, but every day was still difficult. What made her endure that time was her goal of becoming a full-time chef someday, and secretly living with her unrequited love, Wood, in her heart. There were only two. “Oh. Elena. I heard that “Huh?” The owner of the fruit shop whispered secretly, holding Elena’s small, skinny hand without hesitation. Elena hurriedly withdrew her hand and blushed. “Ah, ma’am. No hand.” “Why? Is it because of the burn marks? Eh, I can’t see it very well, what?”

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