“Did you cook Smoke Salmon Trasta?”

Agatha stopped and looked back at her boss. Sitting up on the sofa, Lanceil was looking at her.

She had a hard time answering as she didn’t expect Lanceil to know that she was watching him for a long time.

“Y-Yes. I cooked Smoke Salmon Trasta.”

Lanceil frowned.

Was it a coincidence that this lady knows all his favorites?

The only person who knew this was his dead wife, Olive.

Lanceil stood up and walked towards the kitchen. Seeing him enter the kitchen, Agatha couldn’t help but ask, “Are you going to eat dinner, Sir?”

Lanceil halted. He looked at Agatha, but he never...