The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

The middle–aged man carried the pastries back to the kitchen, casually relaying Mirabella’s critique to Knox, who was bustling around the stove. Knox’s head snapped up, his expression stern “So even a non–professional can taste flaws in the pastry. You should really reflect on this and ensure you don’t embarrass us again.” With that, Knox returned his focus to the ingredients before him.

The man wiped the sweat from his brow, muttering to himself, “Understood.” He had merely intended to point out that the young lady seemed quite discerning, but instead, he had received a scolding.

Back in the private dining room.

Mirabella had taken out a test from her bag and started working on it homework assigned by her math teacher earlier that day. James sat beside her, sipping his coffee in silence,

careful not to disturb her concentration.

Wyatt stood behind Mirabella, his gaze occasionally drifting to her paper. He couldn’t make heads or tails of the math problems, but watching her swiftly and effortlessly complete one after another reminded him of his high school days when he’d breeze through exams with wild guesses.

Wyatt stroked his chin, thinking how some things never change, no matter the era – the same cavalier attitude towards schoolwork.

But he had to admit, Ms. Mirabella’s handwriting was something to behold. Even when filling out random answers, she maintained a meticulous script – a sign of a calm and composed

mind.

As Mirabella wrote down the last of the equations and set her pen aside, the curtain to the private room was drawn aside. The middle–aged man who had greeted them before now entered with a tray in hand, and a faint, herbal aroma began to fill the room.

Mirabella looked up, her eyes reflecting surprise. The scent seemed familiar… wasn’t it crab simmered with a delicate blend of several valuable medicinal herbs?

The man placed a dish of creamy bisque in front of her, then set down two fine porcelain bowls for Mirabella and James. “This is Knox’s latest creation, the ‘Elixir Crab Bisque. It’s prepared to strengthen the spleen and whet the appetite and is perfect for when you’re feeling a bit under the weather.”

James stood, took the bowl in front of Mirabella; and ladled some bisque into it. “Give it a

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Wyatt watched his boss serving someone else with a sense of surreal pleasure. If others saw. this, their jaws would surely hit the floor.

Mirabella, oblivious to Wyatt’s thoughts and not one to stand on ceremony with James, took a spoonful of the bisque and tasted it. Her eyes lit up. “This is quite good. The herbal taste

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isn’t overpowering, and the flavors are balanced. The chef has a skilled hand. It’s evident that a master crafted this dish.”

James, who wasn’t well–versed in food therapy, raised an eyebrow and then helped himself to a bowl, remarking, “It’s rare to get a taste of Knox’s personal culinary work. We’re quite fortunate today.”

After finishing her serving and savoring the taste for a moment, Mirabella couldn’t help but comment, “If only you added some barley, it would be perfection.”

James might not have understood the reference to the traditional ingredients, but the middle–aged man, with a bit of knowledge about herbs, frowned slightly at her suggestion. When the young lady had commented on the pastries, he assumed she had some basic understanding, especially since the pastries weren’t Knox’s work. But this ‘Elixir Crab Bisque‘ was the result of months of Knox’s meticulous research and was, as far as he was concerned, already perfect. To think this young lady still found it lacking was quite surprising.