tale of an edible girl

Your taste on my tongue chapter Five: End of reminiscences; Beginning of history

fWMLUE8


“I like you, Kay… I like you. I love you.” “I want you to eat me. I want to become one with you, Kay.”

“Ai… sa.”

As soon as I awoke, I felt a cold sensation on my cheek that immediately brought me back to my senses. I soon realized I was laying on a stone floor.

“Where is…”
“You finally woke up.”

I heard a voice and lifted my head to notice the presence of Shayde, the king. He was standing while leaning on the wall of this room.

“Y-Your majesty!!”
“Don’t move!”

I heard a voice to my side, urging me to get up, only to find a soldier with his blade’s edge skirting my neck.

Unable to disobey, I sat back on the floor. The soldier pulled back his blade, but still keeping a distance of a few inches from my neck, as if to say he’ll cut me down the instant I make a move of any kind. That said, I knew full well he couldn’t kill me. I was certain I wouldn’t get murdered here, no matter what I tried.
Only three people were present in this stone room in addition to myself. The king, Atema by his side, and the soldier.

Atema hadn’t spoken a word since I woke up, but her face still had the same enraged expression from last night.

“Clear.”

Hearing my name, I turned to the king.

Unlike Atema, he seemed quite composed while asking:

“We are in a vacant room inside the sacred dining hall. Let me first confirm that you still remember what you’ve done to find yourself here.”
“…Yes, I remember.”

I was hit by the spear of one of those soldiers and lost consciousness until I woke up in this room.

“I have removed your position as sakla preparator and nominated Hagan in your stead.”
“I’m past… caring about that.”
“Clear Kay!”

Atema shouted my name in a hate-filled voice more intense than Isela’s when she still hated me. The soldier brought his blade closer to my neck, but that too, didn’t matter.

“I beg you! Save Aisa!”

Grating my forehead and both of my hand on the floor, I begged the king.

“Stop it, already-”

I heard Atema’s furious voice followed with her steps.

“Wait.”

Before she got closer to me, the king restrained her. I lifted my head to see what happened and found the king extending his arm in front of Atema.

“What do you mean when you say ‘saving her’? Aisa herself wishes to be eaten.”
“Just don’t kill her!”

My loud voice reverberated inside the room. I waited a few moments before standing back up and continuing:

“I’m well aware I have no right to request anything after what I did last night, but please, don’t kill Aisa… I’m even content sacrificing myself if that’ll save her.”
“What are you saying?”

Atema’s completely enraged tone turned a little bewildered.

“How dare you think you can replace a sakla. A criminal like you has no right to say that! And besides-”
“Clear.”

The king called me in an obviously different tone from before. He ordered the soldiers to step aside, came closer, and bent down. He got so close that his face almost touched mine.
This was the first time I’ve seen the king so surprised. It wasn’t because what I said was nonsense, but the exact opposite. I could only guess he wanted to ask if I knew what he was up to.
“You…”
“I’m sure you know what I’m trying to say. Line me up on the table instead of Aisa.”

This is my second way to save Aisa that I ultimately rejected, using myself as a bargaining chip with the king.

It felt even worse than accepting Aisa’s fate, but I no longer had a choice.

The king, frozen in place with his eyes on mine, howled…

“Ff, ha, ha ha!”

He burst out in laughter right in front of me, also another first, before moving even closer with an impressed look on his face.

“Your majesty… ?”

Ignoring Atema’s confused voice, the king started speaking:

“I certainly didn’t expect you to figure out so much. You may have actually succeeded at escaping, were it not for Aisa… that was dangerous.”

There’s no point in me escaping alone. If I was to leave Aisa and run away somewhere, I wouldn’t be able to survive on my own. On the other hand, if I sacrifice myself for her, she’d never live the blessed life I wish for her. But, still…

“Please… I don’t mind doing anything if that can save her.”

Despite how bad this choice is, I have no other option. For me, nothing is more valuable than her life.

“Clear.”

The king called my name for the third time. His voice was neither strong, nor loud. He simply called my name, yet, it felt awfully solemn.

“Let me be clear, Clear…”

It looks like he was about to continue the phrase I interrupted him from saying earlier.

“It’s useless.”
“Useless? What’s useless?” I retorted, but all he did was look at me with pity.

Why are you looking at me like that? There must still be time to negotiate.

“I know you’ve already guessed the answer.”
“W-What do you…?”

It was as he said. I guessed the answer to my question a few moments after waking up.

Warm sunlight shone from the window behind me. I’ve spent every night since Aisa’s ripening out preparing for the plan, missing a lot of sleep. I wonder how long I slept since blacking out; the sun had already risen several hours ago.

“She’s not-”
“No, stop!”

The answer crossed my mind countless times in here, but I never put it into words.

“She’s already dead.”

I don’t remember how I got to the other room after. Did I walk there mindlessly, or did I run all the way there? I had no memories of that period.

“Clear…!”
“Kay.”

The first thing that came in view upon opening the door was two men with sturdy builds. Two familiar faces were on the inner side of the room.

Hagan reacted like Atema and showed an angry face as soon as he saw me while Isela looked at me with vacant eyes as she sat on the floor.
And…

“Uh, ah.”
“…Just hours ago, she was relieved to know that you are not going to be executed.”

The body of a headless girl dangled from the ceiling.

Its lively skin was sullied with an ashy color, as the severed section of its neck dripped drops of blood into a large water jug left below.

“Your majesty! What is Clear doing here?”

Hagan’s rebuking words didn’t reach my ears. My eyes gradually moved from the upside-down corpse to an object concealed under a white cloth, placed on top of a handcart tray.
A giant edged tool, strained with blood, was placed on the same tray. My brain refused to admit the evident conclusion of what that object was.

“Let him see it.”
“Yes.”

Obeying the king’s order, one of the two men lifted the object and took off the white cloth.

“Uu…”

The soldier kept me from jumping at the man after confirming what he was carrying. I struggled furiously to stop myself from screaming.

It was Aisa’s freshly severed head.

“Ah- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

Her hair and eyebrows were completely shaved, the top of her head split and emptied of its contents. Her eyelids were caved in due to the absence of her eyeballs, and her overall facial features were not the Aisa I knew.
As I was about to try and tell myself it was the wrong person, I decided to accept the truth. There was no way I could take her for someone else.
The thought of my stupidity being the reason I couldn’t save her, along with doubts that we ever had a chance floated in my head. But now, I didn’t react to them at all.

I wonder how often I‘m gonna have nightmares of today.

“Ah… Aah.”

The soldier removed his arms and watched me crumble to the floor.

“Aisa… Aisa…”

Alternating my gaze between the corpse and the head, I repeated her name.

Around the time when the corpse dropped its last drop of blood…

“Your majesty…”
“Speak.”
“Let me… cook her.”
“Clear, you bastard!!”

The king held back the enraged Hagan from closing in on me.

“You haven’t forgotten you’re no longer a sakla preparator, have you?” he replied, with a voice as calm as ever.

“Aisa wanted me to cook her.”
“You turned down that privilege by trying to kidnap her. I’m impressed you’d try and argue that.”

He was right. I crushed Aisa’s feelings. I had no qualifications to be her preparator.

I had none, but…

Though lifeless, the corpse hanging in front of me was still the same Aisa. She’d always call my name with her cheerful smile and beg me to be her chef.
She believed I was sent to this world to cook her. Like hell, I’d let Hagan or someone else cook her. Like hell, I’d let anyone touch her.

“I will cook her!! Nobody is allowed to do it but me!!”

Standing up, I pointed at Aisa’s severed head while yelling.

The king glared at me with the same grave expression.

“Very well.”
“Your majesty!?”
“Father…”

He then turned his back to me and declared:

“I hereby, once again, nominate Clear Kay as a sakla preparator. Any objections, Hagan…?”

Hagan seemed vexed by Shayde’s decision, though he easily accepted as if convinced.

“Kay…”

Isela, having been sunk down in the floor all this time, finally stood up in a staggered posture, and called me. I turned to her and listened, but she said nothing, instead appearing to be hesitating.

“What…?”
“…Nothing.”

When I urged her to continue, she widened her eyes for an instant before giving up and shaking her head, feebly. Her reaction was correct. This was for the best. I decided to cook Aisa and I didn’t intend to stand down, even if God came to stop me.

“Go wait outside with Atema and Isela. Leave the rest to the chefs.”
“Yes…”
“Hagan, I understand your dissatisfaction, but I will leave him to you.”
“…Certainly.”

I watched the king leave the room slightly relieved. His tolerance was so unbelievable it was almost unrealistic. It gave the feeling that something was causing him to give in to me.
However, hostilities only grew stronger. Maybe the king predicted this from the very beginning, knowing that as long as he prevents me from escaping, I would ask him to let me cook Aisa.

His first rejection seemed to have some hidden meaning, come to think of it.

“I know you will.”

That remark resuscitated within my mind. I couldn’t see his face as he was leaving the room with Isela, but I’m sure he was grinning.

***

An hour later, after I bathed and changed to a black uniform, I entered the kitchen. The moment I stepped inside the kitchen, I was hit with a powerful sense of discomfort.

Something was there. It wasn’t an illusion caused by nervousness. Something… Someone invisible to the human eye was undoubtedly present in the kitchen, watching us.

I had no basis to prove it, but I was convinced. Right now, the said god is descending in this place.

“…I did not admit you, nor will I ever.”

Hagan who is to support me in the kitchen today was naturally displeased.

“You conducted a severe crime as a sakla preparator. I don’t understand why his majesty still insisted on entrusting you with this duty.”

He was both blaming me and showing his dissatisfaction towards the king. Perhaps the reason the king allowed me to take the duty was due to his younger days when he used to favor Yuan over his lonely wife. In that case, Hagan must’ve been reluctant to cook Yuan, but still paid his utmost respect to him by moving his knife. In contrast, the crimes I committed were so serious it wouldn’t be strange if I was to get executed at any time.

“I betrayed Aisa. However, I still believe she wants me to be her chef. Please lend me your skills. Just this once, for Aisa’s sake.”

Hagan lowered his eyes. I didn’t mind if I were to be murdered after this. I’d have no regrets if I could see this feast through to the end.

“…For Aisa’s sake…”

Hagan accepted my request while still frowning.

“…Miss Yulem.”

The name of the past queen that left his mouth probably held a significance beyond my imagination.

***

Flesh, bones, entrails, blood, skin, nails, teeth.

Every single part of Aisa’s body was dismembered and lined on the table. The only parts still emanating the faint remains of life were her long, ashy hair and her blue eyeballs immersed in a special liquid.
Each of these parts was Aisa herself. The three years we lived together, the entirety of her existence was now in my hands. This is exactly what Aisa had always dreamt of.

“Let’s make your dream come true, Aisa.”

I lit the stove, gripped a black knife, and took another look at the ingredients. It was time to cook.

I cut the flesh in thin, transparent slices and mashed them with my knife until they became a mince. I sprinkled salt and spices on the herb puree I made beforehand, seasoned the flesh, and added vinegar to pickle the inside.

Grilling, frying, roasting, boiling, steaming. Just like sakla consecrate their lives for their taste, I had to consecrate my knowledge to this feast.

It’s been 20 years since I first started aiming to become a chef. three years since I became a royal chef in this world. I learned a lot in that period, and experienced countless situations that honed my skills further. And most importantly:
I spent most of my time in this world by your side, Aisa. It was thanks to you that I survived. It was all thanks to you.
I can’t apologize enough for betraying you. I’m fine if you don’t forgive me, but today, I will make the best delicacies out of you.
There was one thing I learned after coming to this world. That is… food ingredients are life. Eating food is consuming life.

Perhaps those who talk about connecting with their food have been referring to this the whole time, while I was the one being ignorant to what it meant.

Cooking is love. …You taught me that, Aisa.

Aisa. I bet you’ll taste the best. I want to taste you before the end. I can’t wait, but I can only endure. I will make you the best sakla in history. The most delicious sakla…

My excitement was quickly building, clearing my senses and
enhancing my culinary skills.

-A heart fried in rendered fat.
-Entrail soup, served with bone marrow and rock salt.
-Japanese-style bone broth soup, served with the ovaries.
-Lightly grilled breasts with a blood sauce instead of soy.
-Miso and liver pâté.
-Stomach, stuffed and fried.
-Slow cooked, bone-in roast.
-Spring rolls, made from fried flesh rolled in steamed skin sheets.
-Bowel sausage stuffed with mince.
-Meat pie made from the shins, thighs, and buttocks, dressed with curry.
-Hair salad.
-Bone cookies baked in a brick oven.
-Sugared eyeball and brain jelly for dessert, served inside her edible skull.

Each dish I cooked from Aisa was carried to the table by Atema and the other servants. Before realizing it, I could no longer sense that strange presence in the kitchen.

***

The sun sank down on the horizon as I was busy inside the kitchen. Under the moonless sky, the sacred dining hall beamed with light. After all the dishes were placed on the banquet table, Hagan and I entered the hall to a round of applause from the audience. I believe it’s safe to say that my actions weren’t reported to the public.
I took a seat and gazed at the plates on the table. The two closest people to me were seated outside of my normal vision range.

After prayers were offered, the bell rang, signaling the start of the banquet.

“…Itadakimasu.”

Joining my hands, I recited that one word, and reached for the bone-in roasts in front of me. Grabbing one, I carried it to my mouth and bit a mouthful.

“Uu, Ah-”

A single bite was all it took for the texture to hit. The flavor and fragrance rushed from my tongue and nose to my brain, then through my whole body, spreading infinitely in my soul. For a moment, I felt as if I became one with the universe. It exists. God does exist. It’s inside my mouth.
I remember thinking that nothing could taste better than that drop of blood I was made to drink in the desert, three years ago. At that time, however, I had no clue of the true divine taste of a ripened sakla. I was wrong.

“You’re delicious… Aisa…”

Tears ran down my cheeks, not only due to the delight I felt from the supreme taste, but because I confirmed that Aisa was inside of me. From the top of my tongue to my throat, and then stomach.

The soft hair, clear eyes, blushing cheeks, faint lips, willowy back, slender fingers.

The hands I held, her sweet voice and warmth.

I lost myself when I thought I’d lost her, but then, I discovered that I was wrong. Aisa and I became one. Aisa became me; I became Aisa.

Honestly, I always wanted to eat her.

Since the day we met, I’d always yearned to taste her blood once again. Things would have been so different, were it not for my moralistic nature, and fear of accepting my cannibalistic instincts.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Aisa.”

I apologized to Aisa for both, eating her despite my misguided moralism these three years, and for lying to myself to excuse my attempt to save her.

“I will become one with you, Kay.”

The words she once said resounded in my mind. No, it was her voice that resounded.

“You’re right, Aisa.”

She was born to offer us such a precious flavor. Thus, she never feared death.

It was as Hagan said to me once:

“Our job is an important one, Clear. We connect the spirit of this poor girl with her family through the medium of food… And I think that it is a very noble duty.”

That’s right, I am a chef. With that new conviction, I reached my hand to the plate of spring rolls.

Aisa, I shall fulfill my duty.

***

The banquet ended. The audience left, and the hall was once again quiet. The banquet table was still filled with plates, but none had the slightest bit of food remaining. Everything was literally licked clean.
Everyone left satisfied after chewing on Aisa’s flesh with tears flowing from their eyes. They’ll surely boast of the day they had the opportunity to experience the godly taste of a sakla for the rest of their lives.
The only two who didn’t leave the hall were the king and me.
We silently faced each other until the king initiated a conversation.

“I could tell that you did a splendid job in today’s feast, though I personally didn’t eat.”
“…Did it not suit your taste?”

I was so astonished to find the king hadn’t touched Aisa that I ignored his praising. It’s not possible for a human being to not eat when a sakla is served to them.

“My other half didn’t permit me…” the king explained, as he placed his right hand on top of his left shoulder. His other half, in other words…

“Yuan…”
“Exactly. I told you Yuan has a jealous personality. I can’t bring myself to eat another sakla with this body of mine.”

He laughed his usual laugh as he talked.

Since the time I learned that he was deceiving me, I stopped believing everything he said. The reason he talked to me about the history of the land was to keep me from prying. The only certain truth was his love for Yuan.
I didn’t blame him for not eating, nor did I feel like arguing. I was now in the same situation he once was in.

“Hagan and Atema were pleased with the feast, too. You have my gratitude.”

“Kay… Don’t… I want… you-“
“I want you to cook me.”
“I wanted you to be my preparator.”

I can’t imagine her sorrow when I thoroughly betrayed her wishes. Luckily, the king gave me another chance to make up for my mess.
If he hadn’t allowed me to cook her, I never would’ve gotten over it, no matter what I did. While it’s true he was only using me, in my view, his actions ended up being my greatest salvation.

“…Well then-”

I unintentionally gulped after hearing the tone in his voice change.

“I have a question for you… as do you, no? Or could it be you’ve worked everything out?”
“I still have many details that need clarification, but I have a general idea of what’s going on…”
“That’s still impressive… Let me ask you first. What tipped you off?”

I started by explaining my question about Aisa’s and my treatment in the palace. Next, I mentioned Isela having never heard of the foreigner’s blood oath.
I pondered over why he’d want my blood with no cause for suspicion, and reached a plausible explanation that there was something special about a foreigner’s blood.

“I took care to not inform Isela. Well, the custom itself wasn’t totally fake. It did exist in my grandfather’s era before going obsolete. You were correct, I did make it up to get some of your blood, but…”

Affirming my conjecture, he continued with another question:

“Isn’t that alone insufficient as proof?”

I nodded. I’m an outsider who knows nothing about this world, this country, or its habits. There’s plausible deniability to my theory if there was another purpose for getting some of my blood.

So, I did some experimenting.

“I had some chickens taste my blood, to which there was some kind of abnormal reaction. They went crazy and even attacked in an attempt to get more. I tried the same with birds, dogs, cats, fish, and even insects… They all had the same flavor-crazed reaction.”

Taste is something that differs from person to person. Many factors such as gender, age, and general health all influence it. A food that everyone in the world loves simply doesn’t exist, especially if that food is appreciated by animals who follow their own diverse food systems.
In this world, there is only one thing that tastes the same for every living creature.

Just as Aisa didn’t understand how her blood tasted so delicious, so did mine taste like normal blood to me.

My blood is the same as theirs. The same could probably be said of the traveler 500 years ago.

“Hahahaha!”

Listening to my explanation, the king burst out in laughter.

“You said you weren’t well educated; could it be everyone in your world is this wise? I’m honestly glad you didn’t try and escape on your own, you’d have very possibly succeeded.”

His loud laughter slowly changed into his usual provocative grin.

“Out of respect for your wisdom and hard work, let me tell you everything I know, outsider, or perhaps I should call you this instead…”

He glared at me as he broadened his grin and continued:

“Sakla.”

◆◆◆

“…Let’s stop here.”

My husband placed his diary next to him, took a deep breath, and closed the curtain on his reminiscing. Talking for such a long time must’ve been tiresome in his weak condition. He laid down on his bed as if collapsing.

“You must be exhausted. Get some rest,” I said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

My husband ended the story just before the truth came out. It would’ve been unforgivable if this was a book, but since it was his personal recounting, there was no need to explain something everyone in the room already knew.

The truth about sakla… and about Clear Kay.

***

“Several years after the establishment of the monarchy, the traveler who came from a different world passed away, leaving behind a wife and child. Starting from the king, everyone who help organize the country considered him a fellow countryman, and thus held a ganzara in his honor. That was when they discovered the flesh of that man tasted better than anything else in this world. He had a taste that brought about the blessings of heaven.”

The truth that took place five hundred years ago was also told to me after my husband.

“Everyone began to wonder if this man who came from an unknown place, carrying outstanding wisdom, and flesh of a supreme taste, was really a human being and not a messenger from the skies. Naturally, they had no way of determining the truth. Several years after his death, a boy with a similar taste to that of the traveler was discovered at a funeral. In the ninth year of the monarchy calendar, the grandson of the traveler, the first sakla in history, passed on at the young age of 15.”

In other words, the divine taste of sakla is a quality of those who come from different worlds, and their descendants.

The reason sakla only appear in Asilia is that the traveler’s bloodline spread solely in that country.

Close to the time Aisa, rumored to be the final sakla in history, ripened, Clear Kay appeared. His blood had a taste that rivaled that of a sakla. My father, figuring it out, gave him a “duty” to keep him by his side.

***

“Any questions…?”

My husband asked everyone in the room with an absent-minded gaze. We all nodded back.

Despite learning that his duty was a lie, Clear Kay continued working as a royal chef. He left his mark on this world with the various skills and knowledge he brought with him, and raised excellent chefs.

I’ve been by his side, watching him grow, these last 50 years.

“Thank you for your hard work, dear…”

Giving him a few words of thanks once again, he lifted his eyes and looked at me, seeming somewhat deeply moved.

“You too… Thank you, Isela.”

***

After telling the complete story of his youth, my husband spent his remaining days peacefully, with no regrets.

As the time of his death approached, many people would come to visit us: our eldest son, who opened a workshop in the capital, third son, who works as a chef, and the close acquaintances we had back in the palace. Among them was Saliman’s mother, Atema. She was still wearing her feather-shaped hairpin, despite having lost its color.
During that time, Saliman would often talk with my husband about the current state of the royal kitchen, and his own worries as the present department head, and master of many apprentices. He would also, not only earnestly assist him in my stead, but also teach the neighboring children how to cook. Perhaps that was Saliman’s way of expressing his gratitude to his former master.

Atema and I would also teach the children how to bake different sweets, like the yudia bean anko or the apricot pudding my husband taught me a long time ago.

My husband’s health deteriorated each day, but he never stopped smiling. Although he was aware his time was coming, I’m sure that he enjoyed his final days with everyone.

***

Twenty days after the arrival of Saliman. The setting sun glowed as the moon was almost out of sight.

“Is that master’s diary, Miss Isela?”

As I sat on a chair in the corner of the ceremony site, Saliman called my name. I nodded, handing him the diary, but he refused.

“I can’t read it. Did master teach you Japanese?”
“No, I have no idea what is written in this book, either. He was the only one who could read it. But, thinking that he was composing the events of his life here, it feels somehow…”

With a complicated face, Saliman gazed at the diary that was once my husband’s, then asked:

“Miss Isela, did you not resent master for what he did?”
“I do remember resenting him when I learned of his betrayal.”
“Well, that wasn’t exactly what I meant.”

Saliman promptly denied the question before taking a deep breath and continuing.

“I think it was natural for master to act in that way. I probably would’ve done the same in his position. But, after that, he spent the rest of his time doing his best working in the palace. What about you, Miss Isela, and my mother? How did it feel to have the wishes of your best friend, Lady Aisa, betrayed by him-”
“Atema once said this: ‘I couldn’t forgive him at first, but seeing him eat Lady Aisa and perform his duty in the royal kitchen, I couldn’t keep hating him forever.’ That’s why she sent you to his kitchen when you were about to enter the service.”

Before his death, Hagan nominated Clear Kay as his preparator.

“Hagan and Atema forgave him but, before they did, my husband forgave my father for lying to him.”

Listening to my thoughts on the matter, Saliman looked both astounded and relieved.

There was no hope in Clear Kay’s returning to his world. If the king was to tell him that from the very beginning, things would have ended badly. Thus, he chose to lie to him. Not for Clear’s sake, but for the sake of what he had to offer.

Besides, the truth was concealed not only from him, but from all the citizens of the country.

***

My father explained to me the reasoning behind falsifying the traveler’s death and why it was told that he disappeared.

“If word of the supposed heaven-sent traveler’s divine taste was to reach the public, his lineage could quite possibly be idolized into a family with more authority than the royal family itself. The second king, fearing this, tried to find a way to avoid the situation altogether, but failed. He didn’t wish to purge the traveler’s lineage, or rather, their divine taste. As a result, the third king had another idea that doesn’t exterminate the lineage, but instead conceals its origins.”

The third king disposed of all records regarding the travelers family, and spread a fake legend that says the traveler abruptly disappeared with his loved wife, thus eliminating any allure toward his descendants.
The legend gave birth to two separate graces: sakla and foreign travelers. Only a select few people know the truth of the matter.

The scribe made sure not to touch on the credibility of the legend, and composed a record that transmits the great deeds of Clear in a way that doesn’t contradict public history.

Are these people chosen for their taste before being sent to our world? Or could it be that they only turn into sakla once they arrive? Is it the will of God, or perhaps some sole power belonging to this world that summons them?

No one knew the answer to these questions. They are just as mysterious as “fate.”

My husband sacrificed his life, accomplished his duties, and left.
Hours before he lost consciousness and passed on, he smiled while bragging that he lived a life that would make Aisa proud. Thanks to my brother, who became the next king, he was permitted to spend his final years in Asilia.

“He was able to carry the fate of this country on his back because he cooked and ate Aisa. That’s why he kept working under my father, who bestowed him that opportunity, regardless of the actual truth. I know that it’s strange for me to say this but, Atema, Hagan, and my husband were able to lead the lives they did thanks to the fact that they consumed Aisa.”

Saliman revealed an expression that both agreed and disagreed with what I said. That was for the best. There are many things which only people of that time would understand.

Keeping the same expression, Saliman added a question:

“And so, you married him?”
“…Were it not for all that, I never would have considered it.”

I promised myself back at a young age to live my life thinking only of Aisa. I only really considered marrying him around the time I became an adult. I heard that the king was looking to find Clear Kay a wife. I remember my father’s amazed face when I told him my intention.

“I thought that I was the only person who should marry him.”

Saliman didn’t seem convinced by my statement. A brief moment of silence followed.

“Frankly…”

He uttered before checking his hand clock and standing up.

“I am still not completely convinced by this story.”
“I see…”
“I wonder if something will happen when I go prepare master.”

Despite expressing his doubts, Saliman seemed less confused and more resolute than earlier. Wearing the black uniform of the head royal chef, he and my third son arranged to cook my husband for today’s funeral. This was the main reason he visited Asilia.

“Do your best. My husband must be looking forward to your work.”
“Yes. Well then, I will be going now.”

Ignoring his last remark, I encouraged him with honest words and saw him off leaving with unwavering eyes.

Finding myself alone again, I opened the diary I couldn’t read and gazed at it.

Everything written here, by Clear Kay, was transmitted to both his student and me. He finished his life peacefully, setting a conclusion to his story, while opening a stage for the next.

I stayed in place for a little while until I settled my mind, then stood up with the diary in hand.

I headed to the center of the ceremony site where the bonfire was lit. When the chefs finish their job in the kitchen, my husband’s flesh will be grilled over this fire on skewers. It was a typical custom in the capital which has been gradually making its way here, recently.

“Is that grandfather’s diary?”

As I stood watching the bonfire, one of my granddaughters addressed me. Among the fifteen grandchildren we have, my husband favored her the most.

“That’s right. You want to read it?”
“No, I can’t read it. Can you, grandmother?”
“I can’t read it, either. I just look at it.”

If I knew of anyone who could read this book, I would have disposed of it long ago.

“Ah!”

I threw the diary inside the bonfire in front of my granddaughter. The diary soon turned into ashes.

“Is it okay to throw it in the fire?”
“Yeah.”

Watching the diary burn, I took out an old envelope from my chest pocket.

It was a letter written by Aisa, addressed to Clear. She passed it to me when I was with my father in the sacred hall. I opened the envelope, unfolded the enclosed letter, and read Aisa’s last words:

The letter was written in the language of the monarchy, which I am able to read, unfortunately.

To Kay.

Was it bitter for you to cook me, Kay? Was it painful? I’m sorry, but I really believe it’s the only way for you to return to your world. I was happy and reassured when his Majesty promised to let you cook me still.

I, too, am so grateful to you, just as you said in your letter.

I remember having a strange nostalgic feeling when I first saw you in the desert. It didn’t feel like I was talking to a stranger. Coincidentally, I found myself by your side most of the time. I don’t know why, but I felt that was the beginning of our story.

Everything in this world was new to you, yet you still did your utmost when it came to cooking. You were always like a shining star to me, when you were lost in it.

Every time I saw you, my heart would skip a beat. I thought of giving up at first, considering my position as a sakla, but as time passed, I gradually realized that I was in love. It didn’t take too long for me to start thinking of you as my fated partner.

If Hagan was kept as my preparator, I probably wouldn’t have felt that being eaten was such a blessing.

It’s because of you that I was proud to have been born a sakla. When you first refused to eat me, I was so irritated and put the blame on you as being heartless. But I soon realized that I was the heartless one for expecting such an unfair request of you.

I’m sorry I slapped you that night. I always hoped for you to accept my fate and cook me as a celebration.

You’re a reckless person but, despite what you did tonight, I’m sure that you did it for my sake. Because I, too, am a reckless person for pushing you to act against your will. That’s exactly why I further believe you are my fated partner.

Fate. A convenient word for someone to entrust their desires to. My husband used to define it that way. I had to agree with him on the point that someone would only believe in a fate they wish for.

Clear Kay is fated to be with Aisa, and Aisa is fated to be with Clear Kay. If they decided to act with such a future in mind, they would have surely found a ray of hope in the difficult time they would be going through.

However…

“’To Kay?’ Is that letter for grandfather?”

My granddaughter read the name of the addressed person on the face of the envelope.

“‘Please open this in your world?’ What does that mean?”

This time she got curious about what it said, and peeked at the letter in my hand. I swiftly hid the letter inside the envelope.

“I want to read it, too.”
“You shouldn’t. This is a secret letter… Only the one who sent it is allowed to read it, along with-”
“With grandfather?”

I didn’t reply to that question and instead held the envelope from its corner with two fingers.

“Ah! Why’d you do that!?”

I then tossed it in the bonfire. Unlike the diary, the letter was written in the language of the monarchy. Because of that, and because its message represented a deeper and heavier truth than that of the sakla.
After watching Aisa die in front of me, I secretly read this letter meant for Clear Kay. I sensed something dark from Aisa’s expression when she handed it to me. I saw a face I’d never seen her make until that night.
Reading it made me seriously doubt this country’s culture. I started wondering whether what we were doing was a mistake or not. Should I have not lost to my curiosity and read it, I would have most likely given him the letter, despite knowing the condition, “Please open this in your world,” would never happen.

Only I know of its existence. Neither my husband, Atema, nor my father knew about it.

For the first time in my life, reading your letter made me want to try living an ordinary life with you. Watching you act so rashly in an attempt to save me made me not want to die for the first time. I discovered myself wishing to stay with you.

Now that I think of it, it’s as you said in your letter. The strong desire to live an ordinary life had sprouted in me a long time ago. I only realized the preciousness of life after reading the letter. But long before, I think I was only ever lying to you, Isela, and even myself; acting as if I had to be eaten, simply because that’s what I was taught to believe.

Kay, thank you for saving me, and I’m sorry for not being able to follow you to the end. It’s too late now, but I’ve finally realized that I don’t want to die. I’m scared, Kay. I’m so scared. If only I was honest with myself and realized it sooner. If only I became aware of this strong desire to survive and live for longer.

If nothing else, I hope I am the last sakla in history. I don’t want anyone else to live their life just to get killed at the end. No one deserves such a cruel fate.

I’m really, really sorry for making you go through this bitter time, Kay. But at least, if you return to your world, please pray to your god for the same.

Goodbye. I love you.

Aisa

The letter that never reached its destination was turning to ash right before my eyes. After finding out the truth of their fate, I couldn’t deliver it to Clear Kay.
If I ever let him read it, Aisa’s wish would have come true. But, on the other hand, something far more important than his life would have been lost. It would be the same as telling him Aisa hated to die that way; that due to meeting him, she cursed her fate as her life was taken. There was no way I could let him know of such a cruel truth which I already found hard enough to admit to myself.
That was why I decided to become his wife and bear his children, because I deserved it. I believed myself to be the only one who should stay by his side and take responsibility for crushing Aisa’s one final wish in her one final moment. I couldn’t let any other woman take that duty from me.

Aisa, please don’t blame him. Abhor me as much as you want, never forgive me for what I’ve done.

“Are you sad, grandmother?”
“What?”

Watching from the side, my granddaughter asked out of concern. It seems I shed a few tears.

“It’s the smoke, perhaps…”

I promptly wiped the tears with a finger while waiting for her reaction.

“It’s okay to feel sad. You will surely feel better after eating grandfather.”
“…Thank you. Yeah, you’re right…”

Ashy hair and silk white skin. My granddaughter cheered me on with a loving smile. Oddly, she resembled my best childhood friend, despite being completely unrelated to her by blood.

I gently brushed her soft hair with my hand and, as I did, the tears returned.

“I need to eat him, right…”

My granddaughter’s name is Aisa.

She is a sakla.


Translator note:

Final chapter of this book. I changed the title of the novel from “Tale of an edible girl” to “Your taste on my tongue” at the final moment after being convinced by Galooza (editor) and Hako. The epub version of the book is up as well, so no need for anyone of you to make one from scratch. You can find a link to it in the index page. Other than that, I hope you enjoyed this slightly deviated romance story. Galooza and I spent a great amount of time in making the final epub version read and feel as professional as possible for a fan-translation, so for those who chose to wait for the epub version, you have made the right decision, lol.

7 thoughts on “Your taste on my tongue chapter Five: End of reminiscences; Beginning of history

      1. By the way, do you have a future project in my, to be honest, I am in love with some of your picks so far. This LN (though I haven’t finished, yet) and Pygmalion… is really good.

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  1. Thank you for translating this novel. It is a fun read. The author makes me think a lot of things that I never thought about. I feel conflicted with the ending ….😔 it leaves a bitter after taste. Well perhaps I’m just accustomed to OP MC. At least he tried I suppose.

    I honestly think that their ending is not unexpected and is more relatable than those magically ended with a happy ending. And the characters have more personality in this novel too.

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