Became Pregnant With the Demon King’s Child

"You want to borrow the kitchen? For what?"

The moment morning broke, Lowell’s sudden declaration left Felix completely thrown off. He tried to stop Lowell, who was hurriedly getting dressed, but it was impossible to rein in someone already ablaze with culinary passion.
"To cook, of course! I should’ve just made it myself from the start if there was something I wanted to eat!"
"But isn’t that what chefs are for? And can you even cook in the first place?"

Felix couldn't imagine that Lowell, even if estranged, would’ve ever been taught how to cook, coming from a noble family. Lowell faltered for a second but then decided to commit to what he’d already said. More than anything, his craving for spicy pork stir-fry wasn’t going anywhere.
"Don’t worry. Just leave it to me."
When Lowell pulled Felix down to the kitchen, the servants preparing breakfast visibly stiffened. Their expressions said it all: We knew it. He wasn’t happy with the food even after the new chef came. Now something’s blown up.

"Would it be alright if I used a part of the kitchen for a bit?"
Lowell asked politely, trying to ease the tension. The servants quickly glanced at Felix, who stood behind him like a towering shadow. It was as if they were silently asking whether they should allow this… and also what the hell was going on.
"Let him do as he likes."

Felix gave permission, though his face clearly said he wasn’t thrilled either. Lowell rolled up his sleeves and got to work checking the ingredients.
"Do you have any leftover cuts of pork?"
"Ah, right here."

The head chef, a bit displeased but not daring to show it, answered Lowell’s question. The pork was neatly stored in cold magic-preserved storage, properly organized.
"Can I use this?"
"That cut doesn’t have much lean meat. We usually don’t serve it."

He was basically saying it was a discard cut, but Lowell hummed contentedly. It wasn’t exactly pork belly, but it was close enough to get a similar flavor—better than shoulder cuts, anyway.
"It’s fine. I’ll use this one."
From that point on, Lowell’s hands moved nonstop.

There’s no green onion, so I’ll use leek instead.
The taste would be a bit different, but he had to make do. As soon as Lowell grabbed a kitchen knife, the room tensed. Felix almost intervened—but Lowell’s hands were faster. He’d worried he might’ve forgotten how to handle a knife after leaving his old world, but the moment he started, the motion came back naturally.
"You’re good at this."
Felix, watching those steady, rhythmic chops, gave up trying to stop him. Unlike the flat pans he was used to, the lumpy local frying pan sizzled as Lowell heated oil with leek, then tossed in the pork. As it crackled, he added a bit of sugar, then began slicing and stir-frying onions with practiced ease. Everyone in the kitchen stared at him, spellbound. Focused solely on the pan, Lowell began searching for something to replace mirin.

At least something with a light aroma…
But the real problem was the gochujang.
"Do you have any chili paste?"

Thinking of the closest alternative, he asked. The chef winced.
"We’ve got a little… but the flavor will be strange and overly spicy."
"That’s fine."

Regretfully skipping soy sauce, Lowell pushed forward with chili paste and red pepper powder.
"That’s a lot of garlic—won’t it be too strong?"
"It’s fine."

Seeing Lowell crushing in heaps of garlic made the chef grimace, but nothing could stop him now. Finally, he added a bit of honey in place of syrup, and his mouth instantly watered. The only thought in his mind was eating the pseudo-spicy-pork stir-fry filling the pan.
"It’s a strange dish… but he’s skilled."
Felix murmured, still surprised, as he looked at the dish—more like a dry meat stew than anything else.

"Would you like to try some, Felix?"
Lowell wanted him to try it since it was his own cooking, but it was questionable whether Felix’s queasy stomach could handle it.
"I’ll have a bite."

That was the most he could manage. Lowell, looking pleased, cheerfully plated the meat, requested a bowl of rice, and headed to the dining room. The kitchen, now swept by a storm, was left with the heavy aroma of exotic food clinging to the air.
"Bon appétit."
Lowell placed the meat over fresh rice. Just watching the red sauce sink between the grains made him feel satisfied.

I prefer my rice a bit stickier, but hey, at least it’s not bread again.
Luckily, some rice had been left from making pilaf. Lowell opened his mouth wide and took a bite.
It’s delicious.

He had to stop himself from tearing up. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t perfect spicy pork stir-fry. The lack of soy sauce hit harder than he’d expected—the flavor was about 70% accurate. But compared to anything he’d eaten over the past few days, this was unbeatable. Only after he’d eaten nearly half did he notice Felix watching him intently.
"You… said you’d try a bite, right?"
Flustered, Lowell cleared his throat and handed some over. Felix wasn’t particularly eager, but he figured it was good to know what it tasted like.

"How is it?"
Lowell’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, and Felix couldn’t bring himself to say It’s too spicy.
"Ahem… It’s edible."

"Would you like more?"
"No. Lowell, you go ahead and eat as much as you like."
Lowell didn’t insist. He simply turned back to his plate and resumed eating.

"Hah… I’m stuffed."
After eating nearly twice his usual amount, he set down his spoon.
"Good. It’s nice seeing you eat well."

"Yeah."
With that, Lowell’s hunger for Korean food finally settled—if only a little.
That afternoon, Felix, who almost never left Lowell’s side, suddenly got up from his desk.

"Where are you going?"
"I just remembered something I have to do. Stay here."
When Lowell tried to rise from the sofa, Felix gently stopped him with a hand to his head.

He usually takes care of everything from the study. Is it something urgent?
It might be something serious. Lowell straightened up a bit, but Felix repeated:
"It’s nothing important. Don’t worry about it."

Still, Felix’s expression was rigid—like a man about to face some great task. As Lowell hesitated, Felix added softly, "We’ll have dinner together."
"Okay. See you later."
Lowell reassured himself that even if it was something important, it didn’t have to be related to the imperial family. But just in case, when Robin stopped by after his first training session of the day, Lowell casually asked:

"Nothing unusual happened today, did it?"
"Sir? Aside from training, not really."
"Any messages from the capital?"

Robin, realizing Lowell seemed anxious, tapped his chin and furrowed his brows.
"When I last contacted him yesterday, I didn’t sense anything unusual."
"Thank you."

Lowell let out a breath.
Then it probably has nothing to do with the imperial court. Let’s not be overly paranoid.
But Felix didn’t return by dinner. Wondering if things were just running late, Lowell wandered near the study.

"Sir… um, excuse me…"
It wasn’t Felix who approached—but Tony, looking a bit sweaty and awkward.
"Did something happen to the Duke…?"

Lowell frowned. Tony nearly jumped in place and waved his hands.
"No, not at all! It’s just… I thought you’d want to see something, so I slipped away to find you. If you’re okay with it, would you come to the kitchen with me?"
Lowell, as well as Tia, Caris, and Phil nearby, all looked puzzled. «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» It hadn’t even been a full day since Lowell had torn through the kitchen.

"Alright, let’s go."
Rather than sit around wondering, Lowell figured it was better to follow Tony and ease his mind. So he headed back to the same kitchen he’d visited that morning. And just before he opened the kitchen door, he understood why Tony had called him.
"It wasn’t like this. It was spicier before."

Felix’s voice came from the other side of the door.
Lowell didn’t hesitate. He opened it at once.
"Felix?"

Felix turned around with a deeply flustered look on his face. He was holding a kitchen knife—and with hands that large, it looked more like a cleaver.
A few seconds later, the entire kitchen rang with the sound of Lowell’s laughter.