At the dinner table, the entire family was taken aback by the sight before them — several bowls of chips, each looking different from the next. One held the familiar, plain chips everyone knew. Another was dusted with an off-whitish powder, while the next glowed faintly yellow. A third bowl held a mix of both powders. Beside them sat one deep red batch, and another that was a shade lighter. On closer look, it was clear — this one had all three colored powders blended together.
Charles couldn't keep his curiosity for long, but before he could ask, Saphy's mother, Lisa, spoke up with a loving smile.
"Sweetie, what surprise have you cooked up this time?"
Saphy had been waiting for that question. She stood up on her chair—just a little higher, so she'd seem taller and more important—and began proudly,
"Mother, Father, as you can see, I've added something new to our familiar chips!"
She raised her hand like a teacher presenting a grand discovery.
"There are a total of five variants, each with its own flavor and personality!"
At that, everyone's eyes gleamed with interest. Not only her parents, but even the servants and nearby soldiers leaned forward eagerly. They all knew their Little Lady—whenever she came up with something new, they'd soon be tasting it too.
"First," she said, pointing to a bowl with off-white powder coating the chips, "this one is onion-flavored."
Then she pointed to the next. "And this one is garlic-flavored! Though… if you're a vampire, you might want to stay away."
Laughter rippled through the room.
"And as you can guess," she continued, gesturing to another bowl, "this one is a mix of both onion and garlic."
After that, she introduced the tomato-flavored chips and finally the one with all three ingredients mixed together.
"Now," she said with a satisfied grin, "I believe I've explained everything. Please—go ahead and try them!"
First, they went for the onion-flavored chips,
The bowl of onion-flavored chips gave off a mild, savory scent that spread through the air. It wasn't sharp like raw onions, but warm and mellow — the kind that reminded one of a kitchen filled with the aroma of slow-cooked meals.
Charles picked one up and took a bite. The crisp sound was followed by a soft sweetness that deepened into a rich, savory flavor. It had the essence of roasted onions — gentle yet full-bodied, the kind that makes you want to take another bite before the first even finishes melting away.
Lisa smiled as she tasted hers. "It's light, but so flavorful. Almost like having a little warmth on the tongue."
Saphy watched them eagerly, her hands clasped in excitement. She didn't need to say anything; their faces said enough.
After savoring the onion flavor, their eyes naturally moved to the next bowl — the one with a pale golden powder lightly clinging to the chips. The aroma was stronger this time, sharp yet comforting, with that unmistakable hint of roasted garlic.
Charles hesitated for a moment before taking one. "Garlic, is it? Let's see…"
The moment he bit down, a bold, savory burst filled his mouth. Unlike the gentle sweetness of the onion chips, this one carried a confident, rich taste — the kind that wakes up your appetite. The crisp potato and the deep, roasted garlic flavor blended perfectly, leaving behind a faint warmth that lingered pleasantly on the tongue.
Lisa laughed softly. "Oh my… this one has quite the attitude. It's lively — almost as if it refuses to be ignored."
Saphy clasped her hands behind her back, grinning widely. "Hehe, garlic doesn't like staying quiet. It wants everyone to notice it."
Charles nodded, already reaching for another chip. "Then it's done its job well."
Next came the bowl with a faintly speckled look — bits of yellowish and pale green powder scattered across the chips. The aroma rose as soon as they leaned closer, carrying both the mellow sweetness of onions and the bold sharpness of garlic.
Lisa smiled knowingly. "So this is the combination, isn't it?"
Saphy nodded eagerly. "Mm-hmm! Onion and garlic together. I thought they might taste better as a team."
Charles took a chip and bit into it. The crunch echoed softly, and his expression brightened almost immediately. The flavor unfolded in layers — first the mild sweetness of onions, then the rich, toasty depth of garlic, both dancing together in perfect balance. Neither overpowered the other; instead, they mingled into something round and satisfying.
"This one…" he murmured, nodding approvingly, "feels complete. The two flavors blend like old friends."
Lisa laughed gently. "It's as if the onion and garlic have been waiting all this time to meet."
Saphy clasped her hands, eyes sparkling with joy. "That's exactly what I hoped for!"
The next bowl drew attention with its faint reddish hue. The chips glimmered softly under the light, dusted with a fine, rust-colored powder. Even before tasting, a bright, tangy aroma reached them — fresh and lively, carrying the scent of sun-dried tomatoes with a hint of sweetness.
Lisa leaned in, intrigued. "Ah, this one smells different. A little sour… but pleasant."
Saphy beamed. "That's the tomato flavor! I used dried tomatoes ground into powder."
Charles took one chip and gave it a try. The crisp broke softly between his teeth, releasing a burst of flavor — tangy, slightly sweet, and rich with that unmistakable tomato depth. It reminded him of summer gardens and fresh sauces simmering under the sun.
"Mmm…" He nodded with a satisfied hum. "It's refreshing. Not heavy like the garlic one, but it still leaves a nice taste behind."
Lisa smiled, her eyes softening. "It's bright and cheerful… like a sunny afternoon turned into a snack."
Saphy giggled. "That's what I wanted! Something that tastes like sunshine."
The last bowl caught everyone's eyes immediately. It wasn't a simple red, yellow, or pale—it was a rich mosaic, the powders of tomato, onion, and garlic blending like an artist's final masterpiece. Even before tasting, the scent alone drew people closer: the bright, tangy sweetness of sun-ripened tomatoes, the sharp, tantalizing bite of onion, and the earthy, savory warmth of roasted garlic.
As someone lifted a chip and bit down, a crisp snap echoed through the air. The flavors unfolded in layers: first, the gentle sweetness of tomato washed over the tongue, followed by the lively, slightly pungent punch of onion, and finally, the lingering, comforting warmth of garlic that clung like a soft whisper. Tiny flecks of seasoning clung to the lips, leaving hints of red, gold, and off-white, a visual promise of the flavors dancing together.
It was more than just taste. It felt like the three ingredients were having a lively, harmonious conversation, teasing and supporting each other in perfect balance. Each bite was a new note, a playful symphony of flavors that made one want to reach for the next chip before the first was even gone.
They exchanged glances, both of them silent for a moment, as if trying to find the words to describe what they were tasting. But no words came. Their eyes widened, mouths slightly agape, hearts quietly swelling with pride.
Saphy's mother, Lisa, was the first to break the stillness. She leaned back, her fingers unconsciously brushing the edge of the bowl, and whispered, "It… It's incredible." Her voice carried a mix of awe and disbelief.
Her father, usually stoic, looked at Saphy with a rare softness in his gaze. "I… I don't even know what to say," he admitted, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Sweetie, you've outdone yourself. This… this is beyond anything we imagined."
From the side, William leaned forward, smirking, his eyes glinting with that familiar mischief. "Hmph, I don't know why everyone's fawning over this," he said, his voice carrying the usual teasing tone. "It's just chips… and I still don't get why you're so obsessed with cooking, shortstuff."
Saphy scowled up at him, crossing her arms. "Short stuff?! Really, William?"
He chuckled, shrugging as if he had said nothing, but his eyes softened as they lingered on her. "Fine, fine… maybe it's… kinda good," he muttered reluctantly. Then, before anyone could react, he grabbed a chip and bit into it. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he quickly hid it behind a nonchalant cough.
"You've… actually done something amazing here, Saphy," he admitted, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Don't get used to me saying it, though."
Saphy's chest puffed with quiet triumph. The flavors she had painstakingly layered—the bright tomato, sharp onion, and warming garlic—had done more than please the palate. They had brought amazement, wonder, and a deep, heartfelt pride that no words could fully capture.
And in that silent, unspoken verdict, even William's teasing heart softened, recognizing that his little sister had created something truly remarkable.
The next day, the castle was alive with anticipation. One by one, the servants, soldiers, and knights were invited to taste Saphy's creations. From the very first bite, their eyes widened in amazement. The sharpness of onion, the warmth of garlic, and the brightness of tomato unfolded on their tongues with a surprising harmony—as if each flavor had been magically coaxed to dance together.
It wasn't just the seasoning. Saphy's magic subtly infused every chip. A faint shimmer lingered in the air around the bowls, and with each taste, the flavors seemed to bloom, richer and more vibrant than anyone could have imagined. The hall itself seemed to hum with energy, colors brighter, voices louder, laughter more contagious.
Excited debates erupted immediately. Some swore the onion chips were supreme, others championed the tomato or garlic. Knights, ever competitive, took it further—challenging each other to duels over the "ultimate flavor." Steel clashed lightly, and sparks of rivalry flew as winners were crowned in each contest. Yet the losers refused to bow, insisting they had been wronged, and the playful disputes continued into loud, boisterous arguments.
The castle had never felt so alive. Even the servants, usually quiet in their duties, joined in the excitement, offering animated commentary and playful jabs. Every corner of the great hall shimmered with energy and laughter, as if Saphy's magical touch had woven joy into the very walls.
Amidst this chaos and merriment, the realization slowly settled in: Saphy's fifth birthday was near, and with it, the long-awaited awakening ceremony. Whispers of anticipation spread like wildfire, mingling with the lingering scent of her magical creations.
And though everyone reveled in her culinary marvels, none could truly fathom the extent of her talent—how a little girl's hands could shape not just flavors, but the very spirit and life of the castle itself.
As the sun dipped lower, the hall still buzzed with unresolved duels and spirited debates, leaving one thought lingering in every mind: when Saphy's awakening finally came, what wonders—or surprises—would this extraordinary little girl bring next?