The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 834: A Lesson in Restraint

As expected, the participants descended into varying degrees of disarray the moment they were given the same instruction that had once left even the cadets staring blankly at their test pans.

Make it pretty.

The problem wasn’t the instruction itself. It was that Luca looked thrilled saying it.

With his little wife’s eyes practically sparkling at the thought of everyone decorating their desserts, who would possibly have the heart to tell him that this was, in fact, an incredibly difficult task?

Certainly not the Imperial Crown Prince.

And so, in the interest of preserving Luca’s happiness and preventing mass panic from becoming too obvious, Xavier calmly stepped in.

"You might want to consider the division of slices when you do this."

"!!!"

The effect was immediate.

Heads snapped up. Hands froze mid-crumble. Several people who had been seconds away from sprinkling mango at random stiffened like they had just received divine revelation.

"Given the same foil pan," Xavier continued evenly, "how do you intend to cut it for serving? In our case, we usually divide each pan into six to eight slices, as shown in the reference photo."

He gestured casually, as if he had not just changed the course of several lives.

"The original design makes it so each slice receives mango, cream, and crushed grahams in roughly equal measure. If you cut it differently, you risk uneven toppings."

A beat passed.

Eyes widened.

Brains whirred.

"So, given your remaining ingredients," Xavier concluded, "consider what you would like to see in each slice."

It was like watching a switch flip.

The blank stares vanished. Panic receded. Understanding slammed into place with frightening speed as everyone thought of their personal preferences.

And then came the explosion of creativity.

Which was, in truth, a heavy dose of desperation.

After all, necessity was the mother of invention.

All around the kitchen, people began frantically consulting terminals, sketching rough diagrams with fingers in the air, counting mango slices under their breath, and negotiating with tablemates like their lives depended on it.

"How many slices are you cutting yours in?"

"I may have to cut this into ten. With how many people would come after me, if I cut this into bigger slices, it likely won’t be enough to keep me alive."

"Wait. If we angle the crumbs like this, does it look symmetrical?"

It was chaotic.

And yet, none of that was what Xavier cared about most.

The Crown Prince turned his head slightly.

Luca was standing on his tiptoes, craning his neck to see over the moving bodies. His eyes were bright with unfiltered excitement, face lit up with childish wonder as everyone rushed to implement plans they had clearly only just thought of.

He looked delighted.

More than that, he looked proud.

That excitement doubled when people began consulting one another, whispering eagerly, pointing at pans, comparing ideas like this was the most important collaboration of their lives.

Xavier’s mouth curved, just barely.

Luca turned toward him then, beaming as if the entire kitchen had personally responded to his expectations.

And in that moment, Xavier knew.

Sure enough, doing all this was worth it.

__

Unexpectedly, the most sought-after consultant in the kitchen turned out to be a young and very experienced princess who had long mastered the delicate art of dessert allocation.

The other children noticed it first.

While most of them were still hesitating, staring at their pans as if they might explode if touched incorrectly, the little princess had already begun decorating. She didn’t pause. She didn’t frown. Instead, her movements were calm, deliberate, and assured.

Cream spread evenly. Mango slices were placed with purpose. Crumbs were scattered with restraint.

It was mesmerizing.

The children watched in silence for several seconds before one of them finally gathered enough courage to speak.

"Um... Your Highness?"

She looked up.

"Yes?"

"How did you decide where to put everything?"

The princess tilted her head thoughtfully, then answered without hesitation.

"You have to think about how long you want it to last."

The other child blinked.

"...Last?"

"Yes," she said seriously. "If you eat too much on the first day, then there will be nothing left for later. That would be very sad."

Oh.

The children stared.

That made sense.

More sense than it should have.

Soon, more of them drifted closer, forming a small circle around her station. Nina continued speaking, hands moving animatedly as she explained, confidence radiating from her tiny frame.

"For the longest preservation," she declared, "it is best to divide it into slices and only eat one slice per day."

Several children gasped softly.

One slice.

Per day.

That required discipline.

Adults nearby initially smiled at the scene, amused by the sight of children clustering around the princess. It was undeniably cute.

Then they heard more of what she was saying.

And those smiles slowly faded as more heads turned, with their ears now sharpened.

They began listening intently.

"If you’re planning to share," Nina continued, nodding solemnly, "you must decide how many people there are first. Then you mark where to cut so everyone gets the same amount. Otherwise, someone will be very upset. Then you’d end up very upset and that won’t be nice."

A few adults stiffened, suddenly remembering that they do have people back at home. For the orcs this was even worse because it might just lead to blood shed.

"And to make it last longer," she added, wagging a finger, "you must always use clean utensils when cutting and taking out slices. Moreover, if you take the whole pan out and leave it outside too long, then put it back, it won’t be as good anymore."

There were murmurs and jolts of worry.

Princess Nina struck a small pose, one hand on her hip, the other gesturing dramatically.

"And, really, you shouldn’t promise everyone a slice if there aren’t enough slices," she warned gravely. "That would be very irresponsible. So, make sure you count before you say anything."

"Oh, and if you can’t resist eating another slice at night, you should lock the refrigerator. Twice."

Silence followed.

Then came the nods.

Slow. Respectful. Enlightened.

Thus, in the middle of an Imperial kitchen filled with nobles, warriors, and veterans of countless battles, they found themselves being lectured by a six-year-old dessert enthusiast.

Then again, who else would be more qualified?

Well, certainly not a certain mop in the expo whose allocation had always been double and a half.