Good news! The Ascendance of a Bookworm light novel has been licensed, and the first part is already available to read on J-Novel Club. The translator’s done a great job with it so far, and I’m looking forward to reading the rest of it and finding out where all my mistakes were. You should check it out too and should especially throw your subscription dollars at it so that you can support a great series.
You can find it here: https://j-novel.club/c/ascendance-of-a-bookworm
(Incidentally, an anime adaptation was also announced. Not much information yet.)
As for me, I’ve been busy with other projects unrelated to translation, but I haven’t given up on the hobby. I’ll be starting a fairly serious search for a new project soon, and am hoping to get that going in the next month or two.
When I was setting my New Year’s resolutions for 2019, “stick to your release schedule” was pretty high up on the list. After thinking it over, though, I realized that the main reason that I haven’t been able to reliably get a chapter out is because, quite frankly, I’m tired of translating this story. When I thought about how it would take me literally over a decade to get through it at my current rate, I realized that it wasn’t a question of if I was going to drop it, but when, and since I’m not enjoying myself anymore, it might as well be now.
So, unfortunately, I’m going to stop translating Ascendance of a Bookworm. This was a tough decision to make, and I’m sorry to disappoint everyone who has been patiently waiting for the next chapter. I’ll be doing one last big editing pass to (finally) fix up character names and lingering typos, then go dark for a couple months or so while I figure out what I’ll be getting into next.
Thanks to all of you for sticking with me, and I hope you’ll come back when I decide on what my next project will be.
(If any of you would like to take up this particular project, please let me know! I’d be happy to set up links to your page once you get off the ground.)
We leave the metalworking workshop and go to a woodworker's. They're both along the craftsmen's road, so they're pretty close to each other. After walking past about three other workshops, Benno pushes open a door carved with a design of a pair of saws crossed before a large tree, then enters, carrying me along.
"I'm Benno from the Gilberta Company," he calls out, "is the foreman in?"
"I'm sorry, sir," says a young apprentice, "but he's not here at the moment... wait, Maïne?!"
"Oh, Zeke!" I say. "Is this where you work?"
There's a familiar face here: Zeke, Lutz's second-oldest brother. He looks up, seeing me being carried in Benno's arms, and when our eyes meet, his jaw drops to the floor.
"...Do you know him?" asks Benno.
"He's Lutz's older brother," I reply.
Benno sets me down, and only then does Lutz enter Zeke's field of view as well. I hear him mutter "...that's Lutz, then?" to himself.
Since Lutz goes to change his clothes at the room he's borrowing at the Gilberta Company, this must be the first time that Zeke has ever seen him wearing his apprentice's clothing and with his hair neatly groomed. When Lutz is at work, he looks nothing like how he does when he's in his street clothes with his basket on his back as he gets ready to go to the forest.
"Huh, Lutz's brother?" remarks Benno mildly. He looks over at Zeke. "I'd like to place an order, is that alright?"
"Co... could you wait a bit? I'll call the assistant."
Zeke hurries off deeper into the store, flustered. Shortly thereafter, a leanly-built man comes out.
"Hey there, Mister Benno," says the man. "Welcome. What do you want made this time?"
"Lutz?" prompts Benno.
"Yes, sir," says Lutz. "This, please."
He pulls out the diptych that had been made for Fran and sets it on the table. Benno points at it, describing his order.
"I want you to make boards for one of these, at the same size as this one. On the front, I'd like you to carve my store's crest, and on the back I'd like my name engraved as well."
The assistant produces a tape measure and takes various measurements, jotting them down on a wooden board as he does so. While he discusses the details—what kind of wood to use, the appearance of the crest, the spelling of his name, the style of lettering, and so on—with Benno, Zeke comes back out, perhaps out of curiosity over Lutz.
"Hey Zeke," I say, "can I order something, too?"
"You want something? ...Sure, I guess?"
"I want a bunch of thin, hard boards. They need to all be exactly the same size, about this big..."
When I indicate that it should be about as big as my hand, Zeke hurriedly goes to grab a tape measure. We figure out exactly how tall and wide they should be, as well as how thick.
"Please make seventy of them," I say.
"Seventy?! What do you need seventy for?"
"Heh heh heh~, I'm making 'karuta' for the thirty-five basic letters," I reply.1
Gil and Delia, my apprentice attendants, can't read. Since attendants are supposed to be able to help with official documents and take dictation for letters, like Fran does, being able to read and write is an essential skill.
If I only get a present for Fran, then I can imagine that Gil is definitely going to sulk over it. When I started thinking of something that I could give him, I had the idea of coming up with a fun way for him to learn his letters. If I could make him some karuta out of wooden boards, then he'd be able to study along with the children in the orphanage. Reading and writing are things that they'll be forced to know when they get older, so I think it would be best if they learn it in a fun way while they're still young.
"'Karuta'? You're making something weird again?"
"Yep. That's right. When do you think you'll be done?"
"Hmm, it's just cutting boards to the same size, so..."
"It's not just cutting. I need both the front and the back to be smooth, so you need to sand them flat."
"Like those hairpins?"
I nod vigorously, and Zeke scratches his head. Sanding every single one of them one by one is going to take a lot of time, but cards for karuta aren't something that should be made hastily.
"It'll take about ten days for the other things I've ordered to be finished," I say, "so it would be great if you could get these done by then."
"Oh, that's plenty of time," he replies.
"How does double what I paid you last time sound?"
"You should ask the assistant about that. I don't really get how pricing works."
As he says that, the assistant suddenly turns to look our way, as if he'd long since finished his discussion with Benno and had been listening in on our conversation.
"What do you mean by 'the last time'?"
"I had Zeke help me make hairpins as part of our winter handiwork last year," I reply. "I paid one medium copper coin each."
"So, you're offering two coins each this time, then? ...If you were asking him as an individual to do it, then that would be fine, but you're making an order at a workshop. That's not enough."
Despite how broadly he's grinning at me, I have no intention of letting him jack up the price. I know how much wood costs from when I was making paper, and I also know how much craftsmen are ordinarily paid.
Lutz, standing next to me, looks like he feels exactly the same as I do. He looks up at the assistant, his eyes sharp.
"Assuming, sir, that your workshop will be charging a handling fee of thirty percent, if one were to consider the prices of the wood and the labor, then I believe that what Maïne is proposing is a rather generous amount as it is. Please keep in mind that this is not an order for one board, but for seventy."
He smiles a smile that reminds me very much of Mark. It's a smile that says You're attempting to take advantage of what looks like an unbaptized little girl, aren't you? The assistant frowns.
"Lutz! What are you doing?!" yells Zeke, like he's probably used to doing at home.
"My job," Lutz replies, not even looking away from the attendant.
Just like Benno and Mark must have drilled into him, Lutz confidently negotiates with the assistant. It's really apparent just how much he's grown since last year, where he couldn't read anything but the numbers on the price tags in the city market and was overjoyed to finally learn how to write his name.
"Zeke," I say, "Lutz is in the middle of negotiations with the assistant. You just said you don't really get how pricing works, right?"
When I stop him, Zeke looks restlessly between me and Lutz, a troubled expression on his face.
"Maïne... but, Lutz, he..."
"He's been working really hard at his merchant's apprenticeship. Just like you've been working really hard to learn all the skills you need to be a good craftsman, Lutz has been working really hard to learn all of the knowledge and skills he needs to be a good merchant."
In this world, where the only way knowledge is transferred between people is verbally, it's exceedingly rare for anyone to succeed in a profession other than the family trade that their parents taught them about. I'd guess that, since Lutz's family has only ever shown scorn for his desire to become a merchant, this might just be the first time any of his family has seen him at work. Zeke is wearing a complicated expression, looking like he wants to say something, but can't figure out how.
"Zeke, could you maybe acknowledge, even just a bit, that he's been working hard?"
"..."
As a result of his negotiations with the assistant, Lutz manages to get the price down to what I'd initially suggested. Benno, who'd watched the fruits of Lutz's studies with a wide grin, picks me up in one arm and, rustling Lutz's hair with the other, leaves the shop.
Over Benno's shoulder, I see Zeke frowning harshly as we leave.
Ten days later, both the styluses and the boards that will become my karuta are finished. Of course, the boards for Benno's diptych that he'd ordered are done as well. Benno, in high spirits, brought his luxuriously-crafted diptych to the wax seller and had them fill it up to finish it off.
"Now then, Maïne," he says. "How do you use this?"
After returning to the Gilberta Company, Benno excitedly takes out his diptych. Lutz looks down at his own with great interest.
"These are something that we can use to take notes while we're out and about. Using the stylus that's clipped onto this ring here, you can write onto the waxy part here. Since it's sized so that you can hold one side of it in one hand, and since it's a solid surface, it's way easier to write on it than paper, isn't it? And its biggest appeal is that you don't need someone next to you to hold an inkwell while you write."
Benno immediately writes his name in the center of the board that he's holding. The stylus etches lines into the wax as it travels, leaving white traces along the surface.
"...I see, the wax captures what you've written."
"That's right," I say. "And when you close it, the words won't get erased like they do when you're working with a slate. This is a just tool for taking notes, though, so when you get home then you need to transfer what you've written to paper or a board for safekeeping. After you're done copying things down, then you use the flat part of the stylus here to smooth out the wax, letting you reuse it... probably."
It's not like I've ever made anything like this before. I just read about it in a book. It's something that I'd read that tax collectors used to use in the olden days so that they could take notes while still riding on their horses.
"Even if the wax gets old and flaky, you can scrape it out and refill it with fresh wax. ...Do you think that this is something we could make a product out of?"
He runs his fingers along the carvings of the store's crest and his name. "...It's something that merchants or nobles, who know how to read and write, would use. Considering that level of clientele, we'd need to retain a woodworking shop that's skilled at engraving so that we could add ornamentation to the frame like this one. But being able to write things down immediately, without needing any ink, is very convenient."
"Do you think it'll sell?"
"I think it'll sell to merchants, but I'm not so sure about the nobility. They have attendants, after all, so they usually have pen and ink handy. ...Attendants might find it useful, though."
"I agree. I came up with the idea when I was watching Fran. Also, if we're going to be selling them for attendants to use, then they don't need to be so heavily ornamented, which will keep the cost down."
"Alright then, I'll buy the rights."
I sell off the rights to Benno in their entirety. Since there's things like the styluses that need to be made, Maïne's Workshop is currently not able to manufacture diptychs. Also, I want actual, spendable money in front of me now.
"Incidentally, Maïne, what are you making with those boards?"
He points at my bag, where the pile of boards is rattling loosely around. In this world, there's no free bags provided as part of your purchase. If you're buying something, you need to bring your own reusable shopping bag. When I finish making these cards, it'll probably be a good idea for me to ask my father to make a box for them so that they're easy to put away.
"These will be 'karuta'," I reply. They're not finished yet. The next step will be for me to draw on them."
"Draw on them?"
"Half of these will be face cards, where I'll write one of the letters of the alphabet and draw a picture of something that starts with that letter. For example..."
I open up my own diptych. On one side, I draw a picture, and on the other side I make up a sentence about that picture on the spot. For the face card, I write a capital S and draw a picture of a stylus, and for the text card I write "Stylus. Something used to write in a diptych."
When I show it to Benno, he stares at me, extremely perplexed.
"Are... you... going to draw all of these yourself?"
"That's my plan...?"
I can't leave this to someone who doesn't know anything about karuta. I'm planning on being the one to finish up Gil's present for him. When I proudly say so, Lutz looks very troubled.
"Maïne, let someone else do it. Especially the pictures. I... have no idea what that's supposed to be. Gil's going to be stumped if you give it to him like that."
"You're good with your letters," adds Benno, "but your drawing skills are pretty bad."
Their merciless evaluation makes my breath catch in my throat. I don't think I'm particularly terrible at drawing. At least, back in my Urano days nobody told me I was bad at it.
"...I, I'm not bad at drawing! Sure, it's a little bit cartoonish, so I can see where you're coming from, but this is avant-garde! The world is going to catch up to my aesthetic in no time, so it's fine!"
"I have no idea what you're saying," says Benno, "but you should face the facts. Leave the drawings to someone else. Got it?"
...I, I'm not bad at drawing.
I'm not entirely convinced that what they're saying is correct, so the next day, in my room at the temple, I ask my attendants for their opinion.
"...That is what Master Benno had to say about it, though," I say, finishing up my explanation.
Delia looks at the drawing in my diptych with wide eyes. "As Master Benno says, that's rather appalling, isn't it? Have you not seen a painting before?"
"She has to have seen all the ones in the hallways when she goes to the head priests office, right?" retorts Gil. "I think she's just bad at drawing."
Their words pierce deeply into my heart. I turn to Fran, but he just frowns bitterly, averting his gaze a little.
"...It is certainly a very unique style," he says.
The halls of worship, the gates, and the corridors of the temple are covered with religious sculptures and paintings, and the offices of blue-robed priests are filled with all sorts of works of art. My attendants, who grew up in the temple and have seen nothing but the beautiful paintings inside, are especially harsh with their critique. It seems like they won't be satisfied unless it's true-to-life and exquisitely detailed.
"Sister Maïne, perhaps you could entrust the paintings to Wilma?" suggests Fran. "She received some training in the basics of painting from a blue-robed priestess some time ago."
"Huh? Training in the basics? Attendants can do things like that too?"
"...To serve our masters' wishes, attendants are required to be capable of doing a good many things."
Fran explains that, after an orphan's baptism, they become apprentice gray-robed priests, assisting in the subordinate work of cleaning the halls of worship and the hallways, doing the laundry, and so on. Attendants judge those apprentices on their earnestness and cleverness, and select children from among them to become apprentice attendants.
When they're made apprentice attendants, they move from living in the orphanage to living in the nobles' area. While they largely continue doing the same subordinate work as before, they also have all the knowledge they'll need to be an attendant drilled into their skulls.
"As such," he concludes, "while the manners and etiquette necessary to properly receive guests is necessary for all attendants to learn, each individual priest or priestess may learn vastly different things."
"Basically," adds Delia, "just like there are apprentice priestesses who learn how to offer flowers, there are apprentice priests who study mathematics."
"Ah hah," I say thoughtfully when they finish their explanation, then turn to Gil. In the end it's probably best to hear what the person receiving the present has to think.
"Gil, what do you think? Should I have Wilma do the drawings?"
"Huh? Me? Why me?" he says.
He looks completely mystified that I'm asking him, so I explain to him the reason why I'm giving it to him as a reward.
"...Every day, you snuck food into the orphanage for all the little children there, didn't you? You were the one who worked hardest for the sake of those kids, so this is your reward."
"A reward, huh? Hmmm..."
After saying that, he falls silent. For some reason, though, as time passes, his face is getting steadily redder and redder until he finally grabs his head in his hands. "I can't. I can't say it," he mutters. "It's too embarrassing." He moans and groans, walking in circles on the spot.
I wonder, does he maybe have some kind of fun feelings towards Wilma? Or would he just be embarrassed to ask her for help? Either way, as I wait patiently for him to finish his odd deliberations, he suddenly looks up, as if he's made some momentous decision.
"...Either's good! If you don't have time to do it yourself, then you can ask Wilma. ...I, I just want you to do the writing. Your handwriting, is so, pretty, that, um... aaaargh!"
He bolts from the room, flying down the stairs, the embarrassment clearly too much for him to handle. Moments later, I hear the loud bang of a door being slammed. I'm guessing that he's locked himself in his room and is currently trembling in embarrassment.
"...Sister Maïne," says Fran, "what will you do?"
"Gil isn't used to giving anyone praise. I thought it was adorable how, despite his bashfulness, he so desperately tried to praise my handwriting, so I think I shall do my very best with writing the text cards."
"Very well," he replies, obviously holding back a smile, "then I shall ask Wilma for her assistance with the face cards."
And so, we decide that I'll be leaving drawing the face cards to Wilma. Fran, sensing a stopping point in the conversation, turns to leave and go back to work, and I hurriedly call out to him.
"Fran, wait a moment. This is for you."
"...For me?"
I produce the diptych I had made for him. The sizes are different, since it's scaled to fit easily in his hand, but it's a match with mine.
"You're the one who has the most work, are you not? I only have one fully-fledged attendant, yet I accepted the directorship of the orphanage. Coordinating everything must be terribly difficult. You've been working so hard, and I am truly, truly grateful. I would like to reward your efforts."
I explain to him how to use the diptych. Then, when I tell him that I had the idea when I saw him having trouble at the temple gate the other day, he smiles delightedly, his eyes crinkling.
"To have an idea and then immediately turn it into a real product... Sister Maïne, I shall endeavor to learn to perfectly manage your physical condition, so that I can meet your expectations."
"Nothing would please me more," I reply.
As Fran gently takes his diptych from me, I notice that Delia's been staring enviously at it. She's as easy to read as ever.
"This is for you, Delia," I say, reaching into my bag. "Though you haven't gone to the orphanage, when Gil is not here you work hard, all by yourself, at cleaning the first floor, and when Fran isn't here you work hard to receive my visitors, and I'd like to acknowledge that."
"What's this?"
"This is a slate and a slate pencil. Please use these to practice your writing. After all, an attendant should be able to write letters to her master's dictation, should she not?"
I write Delia's name on the slate, then hand it to her. Her eyes latch intensely onto the writing. I'd thought there might be a chance that she, unlike Gil, might already know a little of the alphabet, but I now I wonder if nobody had taught her any reading at all while she was with the temple master.
"This is your name," I say. "It's the first thing you should learn to be able to write. Alright?"
After some time passes, Gil finally calms down enough to leave his room, and I hand him a slate as well. Immediately, he and Delia start competing over their studies. So, in order to make sure I'm providing the best example to learn from, I pay meticulous attention as I start to write out each of the letters on the karuta. For the text cards, I pick things that would be easy for Wilma, who'd been raised in the temple, to draw, such as passages from the scriptures or images of the gods.
When Benno sees the finished product, with my writing and Wilma's drawings, he wanted to buy the rights from me on the spot, but I think I want Maïne's Workshop to make them, for the children's sake. Benno, ultimately, still has a monopoly on them, but since the workshop is making them, and since I can charge a fee for having the idea, I negotiate a contract where I get thirty percent of the profits. Now, with this, as karuta starts to sell, I'll start seeing a little bit of revenue coming in.
I, having secured my finances, breathe a sigh of relief, thinking about things to come. I wonder, would other educational toys or other kinds of amusements sell?
Translator's notes for this chapter:
1. Karuta are Japanese playing cards. They come in all sorts of varieties, but the relevant one here is Iroha Karuta, which is a matching game where one matches a letter of the alphabet with a word starting with that letter.
Ever since the cooking class, they've been making a whole lot of soup, and as they've been getting more and more used to the process, they're gradually getting faster at it, and their knife technique is improving, too. Every once in a while, one of the children tries to add in some weird ingredients, but the other kids all immediately jump in to stop them, which is pretty funny to see.
I think everyone's starting to seem calmer these days, maybe because their bellies are fuller than they were before.
By now, they've gotten settled into a new daily routine: in the mornings, they do their work in the temple, and in the afternoons, they clean the orphanage and make soup. Luckily, in a few days, Tuuli's day off will line up exactly with my father's. Benno has just gotten back from the trip to another town that he's been on for the past several days, so I head over to talk to him and ask him to lend Lutz to me.
"Mister Benno! Please lend me Lutz in a few days!"
"Sure, but you're mine the day after that."
"...What's that disturbing look in your eyes?"
"Entirely your imagination."
...It most certainly is not.
His even stare puts me a little on guard, but since I nevertheless got permission to borrow Lutz, my next step is to get Tuuli and my father on board.
"Could you please take the kids from the orphanage to the forest?" I ask them. "Dad, if you're with them, then nobody's going to ask any questions when a whole bunch of kids that nobody's ever seen try to go through the gates, right?"
"...I don't mind, but are you sure it's okay for the orphans to go outside?"
"I already got permission from the head priest, so it's okay!"
He doesn't look like he understands why I managed to get that permission, but since I did, he agrees to go along with it. Tuuli says she already planned to go to the forest anyway, so she doesn't mind either.
"I’ll take them with me," she says, "but what are you going to have them do?"
"I'm going to ask Lutz to teach them how to make paper, but I'd like them to learn how to go foraging, too. They've never been to the forest before."
Tuuli, after spending time with the orphans teaching them how to make soup, already knows that the orphans live in a world where the common sense doesn't line up at all with ours. She had to teach them how to use both regular knives and kitchen knives from scratch.
She frowns. "If this is the first time they're going to the forest, wouldn't it be better to have more people come along to lead them?"
"Yeah, you're probably right, but since we're going to be showing off how to make paper, I want to keep this in the family if I can."
"Okay! Got it. I'll help you out."
"Woohoo! Thank you, Tuuli!"
And so they agreed to lead the orphans of pre-baptismal or apprentice age to the forest. The adult priests want to go as well, but this time I need them to hold down the fort and take care of work at the temple. The kids need to head out first thing in the morning; otherwise, they won't have enough time to work on making paper.
In addition to baskets, knives, and hatchet-like blades for cutting trees, they're bringing along pots and steamers. Lutz will teach them how to make paper the way the two of us used to do before our baptism: harvesting folin wood, steaming it, and stripping the bark. While the wood is steaming, Tuuli and my father will teach them how to forage.
However, we want to avoid giving the orphans too much information, since there's a chance that it might leak out. We'll teach them how to recognize the wood we're using, but not its name, and for now we won't tell them anything about the ash or the binding agent we're using. I'm not scared that someone might end up copying our product. No, what I'm scared of is the possibility that someone might try to sell it, and get caught up in the magical contract we have.
"Sister Maïne," says Lutz, "I'm going to make sure I learn absolutely everything!"
"Make sure you pay attention to both the paper-making and the foraging," I tell him.
Gil's eyes sparkle as he takes off for the forest, leaving me behind, stuck in the temple. I go with Fran to see the head priest, where I work diligently through the pile of paperwork, then have prayer after prayer crammed into my head while the head priest endlessly critiques the finest possibly details of my footwork and finger positions.
From the outside, this looks like a peaceful, ordinary day, but in my head a tornado is spiraling out of control. No, maybe it's not a tornado. It's my financial situation.
Outfitting my room, my kitchen, and the orphanage took a lot of money. It was an enormous drain on my finances. I have no idea what kind of noble things I'm going to be obligated to spend money on in the future, and no idea just how much that's going to wind up costing, so I really want to figure out if I can secure a source of income.
"I've already sold the hangers, and the cooking'll take a little longer... man, it would be good if the restaurant could open, at least... do I have anything, huh? Was there anything I talked about with Lutz before that I could commodify, maybe? Hmmm..."
"Sister Maïne," says Fran, "it would seem you have been brooding over something for some time now, have you not?"
"Just, raising money..."
Since it's about time for the children to return from their first ever trip to the forest, we head towards the temple entrance in order to welcome them back. Through the gate, I hear the sound of children talking happily growing closer, and shortly afterward a crowd of kids comes stampeding in.
"Sister Maïne! We're back!"
"Welcome back, everyone," I say. "Did you perhaps gather a lot?"
"We brought back tons of bark," says one orphan.
"I got the most!" says another.
"I see," I reply. "Very good! Now, perhaps we should take it all down to the workshop to dry. Lutz, if you would?"
"Sure thing!" he replies.
Down in the workshop, Lutz hangs up the bark up to dry, my father goes over the fine points of how to take care of a knife, and Tuuli teaches everyone how to eat all the things they brought back.
"Now then, everyone," I say, "let's show our thanks to your teachers for all of the things they've taught you today."
My intention, at least, was to have everybody say "thank you very much!" and wrap things neatly up from there, but this is the temple. Instead, they all drop to their hands and knees, bowing deeply as they yell "we give thanks to our teachers!"
My father and Tuuli pull back in shock.
"...Umm, this is how they show thanks at the temple, so, they're as grateful to you as they are to the gods, so..."
"Yeah, I figured," says my father. "I figured, but... it surprised me."
After I quietly try to explain things to the two of them, the children, having finished expressing their gratitude, start heading back towards their dorms.
"The priests who stayed here are making soup for you now," I tell them as they shuffle out. "Make sure you wash your hands before dinner. Also, please make sure to bathe yourselves before you go to sleep tonight. Today was very hot, so you must be quite sweaty, aren't you?"
"Yes, Sister!" they chorus, shuffling into their dorms.
After I see them off, I let out an enormous sigh.
"Sorry, everyone. Could you wait here, please? I need to go get changed too."
Fran and I head back to my room, and Delia helps me change out of my clothes. On days when I plan to stop by Benno's shop, I come to the temple wearing my apprentice's clothes, so only my blue robe needs to be taken off, but today I came wearing my street clothes to match Tuuli and the others who went to the forest, so I need to take off the blouse with its fluttering sleeves and get everything changed.
"You need to have a few more blue robes made for you to wear around the temple," complains Delia. "Your robes get all dusty after going down to the basement. I want to wash them, so please get a spare."
These robes are made from a very high quality, silk-like cloth. If they have to be tailored, too, then this is no doubt going to be extremely expensive. It seems like I absolutely have to get serious about raising some money.
"Thanks for waiting!"
Freshly changed, I head back down to the workshop. We lock everything up, I hand the key to Fran for safekeeping, and everyone starts heading home.
"Master Lutz," says Fran, carrying a wooden tablet, "here is today's report on Sister Maïne's activities."
He reads off his report, detailing what I'd done during the day and how my physical condition was holding up. As I watch him, a thought suddenly occurs to me. He has to give a report every time I come here, but since it's hard to take out a pen and open a bottle of ink when we're outside, if anything were to happen then he couldn't jot it down.
...Hm, if I made something like that, wouldn't it be pretty useful?
Paper is still very expensive, so memo pads aren't a popular idea. I think there'll probably be a demand for these, though. There's a chance that something like this already exists on the market, but at least it'll be a perfect present for Fran and Lutz.
My father picks me up, and we head off. I'm so lost in pondering how to make these things and what kinds of materials I'd use that we reach the central plaza before I even know it.
"Lutz, Lutz!" I say, calling down to him as he walks alongside Tuuli.
"What's up?"
"Mister Benno has contacts with a metalworking workshop, right?"
"He... does, but... have you come up with something?"
"Yeah! But I want to ask Ralph and Zeke to do some woodworking, first."
No matter how good Lutz is with his hands, his woodworking skills are no match for Ralph and Zeke, professional tradesmen who work at a woodworking workshop. I learned that very well after having them help me out with the hangers. Besides, what I want made this time is going to be a present for Lutz, so I think it would be better if he didn't have to make it himself. I should ask Ralph or Zeke.
"What," says my father, sounding hurt, "you're not going to ask your dad?"
"You worked really hard for me already today! So it's okay."
"I can do a little more, you know?"
"Really? You're not going to have a drink and go to bed?"
I look up at him, pouting a little. Since he already spent the day leading novices around the forest, I'm pretty sure he's on course for heading home, drinking some booze, and passing right out.
"...It'll be fine."
"Can't trust you when you say that," chimes Tuuli, echoing the words in my heart. "You're definitely just gonna drink and go to sleep."
My father pouts sullenly over having been called out.
"Going to Lutz's house right now isn't great either," I say, "so as long as you promise to do it before you drink you can do it."
"I'll have my drink later, so it'll be fine, alright? Good grief, you two are just like your mother."
"...But they're so cute you just can't help it, right Mister Gunther?" laughs Lutz, shrugging. "At least that's what you keep telling me."
I ask my father to measure Lutz's hand, and then we head home.
"So, what am I making?"
After returning home, my father endures a dinner without a drink, then heads into the storeroom and starts rummaging around, looking for some suitable wood and getting out his tools.
"So, question," I say. "Which would be easier: taking a thick, rectangular plank and gouging out the middle, or taking a thinner board and nailing on a tall border around it? Either way, I'm going to be pouring wax into the hole."
"Hmm, I think adding a border would be simpler, wouldn't it?"
"The wax isn't going to leak out?"
"Depends on how you do it, but I think it should be fine."
Since he's taking over for me, I set about rummaging through the wood pile, looking for pieces of the right size.
"So, I'd like you to make some boards about this thick. Could I get two about the size of my hand, two about as big as Lutz's, and two as big as yours?"
"How tall do you want the border?"
"About as thick as my finger, going all the way around the board so that the wax won't spill out... Oh, and I'm going to want holes along one side so that I could tie a string or loop a ring through, so could you please drill holes, too? Like this," I say, sketching out a diagram on my slate as I explain.
My father nods, stroking his stubbled chin, then gets started. While he works, Tuuli and I bathe each other. Since the hottest days of summer are getting closer and closer, I got pretty sweaty even just doing paperwork all day, and Tuuli wants to wash off all the dirt she's covered in after spending all day in the forest.
"So, Maïne," she says, "what're you making?"
She scoops some water from the washbasin, which I'd added some of our handmade rinsham to, over my head, and starts working it into my hair. I relish the feeling of the scalp massage as I answer her question.
"A memo pad."
"So, you mean a different kind of memo pad than the one you tried making out of the messed-up paper you brought home, right?"
"Yeah," I say, smirking, "but at some point I really want to try using some good paper for one of those."
I wipe down my entire body and dry off my hair. When I'm done with that, I swap places with Tuuli, and take my turn washing her hair.
"It's really called something like a 'writing board' or a 'tablet book' or a 'diptych', but you can think of it like something that you can take notes on that's hard to erase, unlike a slate."1
"So why do you want Mister Benno to take you to a metalworker?"
"I want them to make me 'styluses'."
The next day, I put the boards that my father made for me in my tote bag, which I have Lutz carry for me, and the two of us set off for Benno's shop like we always do. Since I got to borrow Lutz yesterday, I promised to hand myself over for a day in return, so this is perfect timing.
"Good morning, Mister Benno," I say. "Could you please tell me where I could find a store that sells wax, and also a metalworker?"
"What are you scheming this this time?"
"Saying 'scheming' makes me sound so untrustworthy... I've got an idea for presents that I'd like to make for Lutz and Fran, but I can't make them myself, so I'd like to be introduced to workshops that can do it for me."
"...For me?" says Lutz, looking down at my tote bag, frowning at the boards packed into it.
"That's right! It's a thank-you gift for all the hard work you and Fran have been doing for me."
"What about Gil?"
"He can't write yet, so I think it'll be better for him and Delia to get slates, instead."
"Ahh..."
As a delighted smile spreads across Lutz's face, Benno's mouth tightens into a frown.
"Hey. You're not getting anything for me?"
"I think that when you see the finished product, you're absolutely going to want one, but I think yours should be made professionally, at a woodworking shop. I don't think something made by an amateur would suit you."
Benno is the proprietor of a major store who has surrounded himself with high-quality goods of all sort, so him holding a handmade diptych would feel entirely out of place. It would be okay as a thank-you present, but I for one wouldn't want to use it if it wasn't made by an expert craftsman.
"A wax store and a metalworker? Alright, let's go."
He first takes me to a store that makes and sells candles, where I ask them to fill the reservoirs in the center of each board with wax. I watch over the counter as the man lines up the six boards my father made for me, then pours goopy melted wax into each of them. It doesn't take much time at all. Waiting for the wax to harden enough to carry takes much longer.
"This is simple enough to do," says the wax seller, as we wait, "but this is a strange project you've got here. What are you making?"
"Umm, I'm making 'diptychs'."
"What're those?" he says, skeptically.
I try to explain, but he doesn't quite seem to get it. This isn't really unexpected; since it's not the kind of thing that someone who didn't have to do any writing outside would find useful. Now that I think of it, there's a chance that these diptychs might not actually be a good product to sell.
...I might need to come up with some other ideas.
After waiting for the wax to harden enough to carry, we head to the metalworker's workshop. I marvel about how easy it is to get my hands on what I want, this time. I can really see how having assets and connections is super important. This is vastly different from all of the trial and error I did at home right after becoming Maïne.
We arrive at a workshop along the craftsmens' road, and Benno opens the door.
"Is the foreman in?" he calls inside. "I'm Benno, from the Gilberta Company."
A blast of hot air, hotter than even the heat of the summer day, roils out of the open door. Since this is, after all, a metalworking shop, it's only natural that they're using fire, but the sheer intensity of it startles me.
When I excitedly peek in, trying to see just what kind of work they do, I see that the hottest part of the workshop itself is tightly closed up behind another door. There's an apprentice here who looks like he's stuck watching the storefront, a counter that looks like it also serves like a table for taking orders at, a few simple wooden stools, and not much else.
As I look around the storefront that has no products to be seen, a heavily-built man comes out from deeper inside. Both of his arms are wider around than my waist, and the thickness of his beard is matched only by the thinness of his hair. His large, staring eyes are a little scary.
"Hey there, Benno. What're you looking for? More buttons for the nobility?"
"No buttons this time," Benno replies. "Listen to what this kid's looking for."
"This tiny little girl? Alright, lay it on me."
"Uh, umm! F, first, I'd like some circular rings to tie two boards together, something like this."
On my slate, I sketch out a diagram of how the rings should connect the two boards together.
"That's easy," he replies.
"And then, I'd also like some 'styluses', too."
"A 'style-us'?" he repeats, uncertainly.
"Like this."
I erase the picture I'd drawn of the diptych and start drawing the stylus I'd like him to make. One end is tapered like a mechanical pencil for scratching words into the wax, and one end is flat like a spatula for erasing them. If possible, I'd like for there to be a clip on it as well so that it can be attached to the binding rings as well.
"I'd like three of these, please."
"What're those?" he says, skeptically, tilting his head. "That'll take some real precise work. ...Hey, Johann, got an order for you!" he yells over his shoulder, calling for someone beyond the closed workshop door.
Shortly thereafter, a teenaged boy with frizzy, bright orange hair comes out. He looks like he's somewhere between fourteen and sixteen years old.
"This is my apprentice, Johann," says the foreman. "He may still be an apprentice, but he does some very precise work. His skills are fully-fledged."
I show him my slate and give him the same explanation I did to the foreman. Johann takes out a wooden board and starts drawing something like a blueprint. It's far more exact than my scribbles. As expected of a craftsman.
"How fine of a point do you need on the tip?"
"Please sharpen it to about as sharp as a sewing needle. That might be hard to hold, though; could you please make the part we'll hold it at about as thick as a pen—"
"That's not very exact," he interjects.
Johann sighs, putting down his pen, then disappears back into the workshop. He returns momentarily, carrying with him a series of rods of different thicknesses. He lays them out on the counter, motioning for me to try holding each of them.
"Which of these is easiest to hold?" he asks.
"Umm, this is the easiest for me. How about for you, Lutz?"
"If I'm using it like a pen, then this one fits my hand perfectly."
Since my hand and Lutz's are different sizes, the thickness and weight of our styluses will need to be different if we want them to be easy to hold.
I look up at Benno. "Could you please pick out one for Fran?"
"...This one," he says, after a moment. "Make two of these, one for me as well."
"Huh? But, even if you have your 'stylus', if you don't have a 'diptych' you won't be able to use it?"
"It's fine, since I'll be having one of those made. Metalworking takes a lot of time, so it's better to order in advance."
I nod at him, then turn to Johann. "Four of them, then, please!" I say, with a big nod.
"Understood," he says. "Now, could you describe this flat part? What will it be used for? How wide would you like it? What angle should this part be at? What is this 'clip' here? Ah, you'd like it to clip to the rings? In that case, it needs to match the thickness of the rings, doesn't it? How long would you like it to be?"
The questions come one after the other, but with how obsessive he's being, I'm pretty sure he'll understand exactly what I'm looking for. I happily answer every question he asks.
Meanwhile, the foreman talks to Benno about Johann. He's got the temperament of a true artisan, obsessing over the finest details. His work is flawless, but it's this part that he's very slow at. It sounds like he gets depressed when clients tell him he's asking too many questions, which happens often. He's happiest when someone like me comes along and gives him as precise an order as he needs, but it seems like there aren't that many people like that out there.
"If he'd be a little more compromising," says the foreman, "he'd have a much easier life. Him being uncompromising, though, means he can do some great things. What he really wants is a patron that'll make the most of his skills, but you don't know anyone like that, do you?"
Benno hesitates, briefly, glancing at me.
"Nah, that girl's way too young," says the foreman. "Hard to be a patron when you're not grown up and can't spend your money freely."
"...You're right," he says.
He abruptly cuts off the conversation there, so I hold my tongue.
...Even though I'm technically the head of a workshop, I really don't have any money that I can use freely, after all. I like how precise he is, although I haven't seen the finished product yet, but when I'm looking for metalworking in the future I think I'd be happy to patronize his services. Yep.
"Hey. Maïne," says Benno. "Stop just staring into space. If you're done with your order, we're heading to a woodworker's next."
He suddenly picks me up, and quickly strides out of the metalworking workshop.
It seems like he's full of excitement about getting his own diptych made.
Translator's notes for this chapter:
1. A diptych is two boards fastened together so that they can open and close like a book. Historically, diptychs with wax inner surfaces were used as notebooks.
I’ve spent this evening grinding mindlessly through this chapter and, upon going back for an editing pass, realized that I really fucking phoned this one in. I’ma take a break and come at it fresh next week.
were you considering entering sponsored translations? 1-2 additional chapters per week would be great.
I’m not planning on doing any sponsored chapters, no. I generally feel like taking money for unauthorized fan translations is some fairly shady business. I’m also spending about as much time per week on this as I’d like to. Trying to double my output would just burn me out.
Hey, in case Tumblr suddenly goes bankrupt and shuts down given recent news, where should we go to find your next upload location?
No plans on moving out of this hellhole yet. If things do collapse, though, I’m hoping that there will be enough warning that I’ll be able to come up with something that will allow me to continue to post female presenting nipples translations.
After finishing lunch, we immediately get to work on cleaning up the orphanage. However, it's the orphans actually doing the work.
Historically, the general work schedule has been that laundry is done early in the morning and the other cleaning is done in the afternoon, but since at the moment there's a surplus of gray-robed priests, everything is generally finished during the morning. So, during the afternoons, there's likely to be a large number of priests without anything to really do, which is why we've decided to kick off our great cleaning plans now.
The officially-stated reason for this cleanup is to ensure that when I, a blue-robed apprentice priestess, come to visit the orphanage as part of my inauguration as its director, I do not see anything unsightly. It seems like using an excuse like this for forcing everyone to do such an enormous, unusual task is likely to make it easy for everyone in the orphanage to accept.
The main objective of this major cleanup operation is, of course, to clean up the orphanage, but I'm also using this as an opportunity to teach the orphans that if they work hard, they'll get a reward. In order to that, I'm having the cooks make soup that I can give to the people cleaning as thanks for their hard work, and in order to reward the people who take the most initiative I'm planning on giving out buttered potatoes―or, more accurately, buttered kalfe―to the thirty of them who stand out the most.
The work to clean out the orphanage can be divided into washing the children while it's still warm out, cleaning out the basement of the girls' dormitory where the unbaptized children are staying, cleaning the other floors of the girls' dormitory, cleaning out the basement of the boys' dormitory and installing the workshop equipment there, and cleaning up the other floors of the boys' dormitory. I'll be having everyone split into teams and take on different aspects of the work.
When Benno and I had suggested this, Fran and Gil both reacted with utter shock. They explained that the servant work at the temple consisted of laundry, cleaning, and prayer. In the morning, they said, everyone washes the laundry, then everyone prays. Essentially, everyone does the same work at the same time. Nobody's ever really split up to work on different things before, it seems.
After we explained that there's a wide range of things that need to be done, and that things like carrying in the workshop equipment are very physically demanding, they agreed to actually split up the work this time.
"I wonder, even if we split them into groups and clearly explain things to them, will they really do their work?" I ask.
"It'll be fine," says Gil, "because everyone in the orphanage knows that Fran's the head priest's attendant."
According to Gil, the gray-robed priests and apprentices of the orphanage recognize Fran, who is deeply trusted by the head priest himself, as very much their superior. If he's the one giving directions, then just about everyone will follow them, even though some of them might grumble about it.
"There will... still be a few children who do not listen to what they are told," says Fran, glancing briefly at Gil.
Gil averts his gaze. Although he's a pretty hard worker now, it wasn't too long ago that he was a real problem child that the other gray-robed priests had to constantly fight to keep under control.
Gil and Fran will be making the rounds, making sure that the cleaning is going well, finding out who is working hard and who is running away without doing anything, and checking in with me to report on the overall progress. Lutz will be supervising the cleaning of the basement of the boys' dorm, since that's the future site of Maïne's Workshop, and helping to bring in the equipment. After that, he'll make the buttered kalfe there in the basement. Delia will be keeping an eye on the cooks and cleaning the first floor of my rooms.
"I'll be going―"
"You're staying here," Lutz says. "It'll be a big problem if you collapse somewhere."
Before I can finish saying that I want to go too, Lutz stops me. As I groan, at a loss for words, Gil looks at me in astonishment.
"So, Sister Maïne. Since all this cleaning is happening so that a blue-robed priestess can come to visit, wouldn't it be a problem if you were to show up before it was actually done?"
"I guess you're right..."
Since Fran won't be with me, I can't go to the library, either, so I let out a big sigh. Fran, looking at me with a fond smile, places a single sheet of paper in front of me. It's covered with his neat handwriting, each precisely-formed letter reflecting his meticulous personality.
"There are many things that you must learn, Sister Maïne. Firstly, when you go to the orphanage this evening and give your inaugural address, I would like for you to have learned this greeting entirely by heart. Please pay close attention in particular to the names of the gods so that you do not say them incorrectly."
He also wrote me a cheat sheet, but it looks like I really should have as much of this memorized as possible. I look over the carefully-written sentences, then sigh. Fran, seeing this, smiles broadly, then starts placing a series of wooden boards on my desk, one by one.
"If you have the time, I would like for you to memorize this list of the teas and milks that have been brought here for your rooms, as well as where they originated. This is the pairing that you like. This is Master Benno's, this is Master Lutz's, and this is the Father's preferred pairing."
"Huh? What?" I say, flabbergasted.
"It is essential to memorize the tastes of those who come visit frequently," he says.
I decide not to mention that the head priest doesn't actually come here. It's probably a good idea to learn what my boss, who I work alongside, likes to drink.
Lutz, trying desperately to suppress a burst of laughter, gives me a big thumbs up.
"This is great, Maïne! Look at all the stuff you get to read!"
"I like reading, yeah, but... I'm really bad at memorizing..."
Unless it's something I'm actually interested in, my brain just isn't good at holding onto information. Whenever I just mechanically go through book after book, the contents of one book slip out of my head the moment I start reading the next.
My shoulders droop as I reach dejectedly towards Fran's pile of documents.
Fran returns after the fifth bell rings. He writes a series of names onto a wooden slip, his pen scratching across its surface, listing the names and appearances of the children who took initiative and tried hard, as well as the children who hid away from their work.
"Although the thorough bathing of the youngest children was the task you were most concerned about," he says, "we were able to use the soap and towels we prepared to finish bathing them while it was still warm enough out. They are currently being dressed in cheap, second-hand clothes, and fresh straw is being packed into sheets."
The sheets were bought cheaply, so they're patched together, but right now the children are in the process of filling clean sheets with straw we bought from a local farmer to make their own bedding.
"There aren't any sick or unresponsive children, are there?" I ask.
"No, they are all fine. I believe this is perhaps the result of Gil having brought them food these past few days. Those children have become to adore Gil as a messiah, it seems, and as he has been saying that this at your orders, you are likely so adored as well."
Being told that to my face is actually pretty embarrassing, but I'm happy to hear that those kids have gotten a little healthier.
"A handful of the priestesses and apprentices who were assigned to wash the children are helping stuff the bedding, and the rest of them have been reassigned to help with the rest of the cleaning. Now then, I must make my rounds again."
"Thank you, Fran. I'll leave it to you."
Fran gives me a slight bow, then heads back to the orphanage again. Shortly afterward, Lutz returns.
"Maïne, we're done cleaning up the basement in the boys' dorms. We're going to start installing the workshop equipment now."
"Got it. Thanks, Lutz!"
"Man, though, those guys are amazing," he says over his shoulder as he takes off. "They're really used to cleaning. They're crazy fast at it!"
As soon as Lutz is gone, Fran comes back again to write down a list of names he heard from Gil, then quickly heads off again.
While everyone else is so busy, I just sit at the work desk that had arrived for me just a few days ago, staring at Fran's handwriting. Man, these gods have some long names. And there's so many of them too. I kind of want to ask the head priest if I could come up with some nice, friendly nicknames for them.
Since Delia is supposed to be keeping an eye on the kitchen while she's cleaning, the kitchen door has been left open, and the delicious scent of the soup I'll be giving out as a reward drifts through the air. As I sit there, thinking about stupid things, the cleaning comes to an end.
"Sister Maïne," says Gil, "the boys' dorm is all cleaned out."
"Thanks for all the help, Gil! So it's just the girls' dorm left now, right?"
"Right. But boys can't enter the girls' dormitory except for the dining hall."
"So, can you get started on getting the dining hall ready for the soup, then?"
"Got it!" he says, running excitedly from the room.
As he leaves, Lutz arrives.
"Hey, Maîne. We're all done setting up the workshop, so we've started steaming the kalfe. Sound good?"
"Sound good...? Wait, you've already started though, right?" I chuckle. "Well, good timing either way. Gil just went to get the dining hall set up."
Lutz leans in closer, lowering his voice. "Uh, so those kids are saying that they've never even seen a kalfe before. They've only ever seen cooked food. Even though all I'm basically doing is just steaming them, they're all super curious. They've been crowding around me to watch. It's been pretty hard to actually do anything."
"...Ahh, right, they've only ever seen the gods' blessings, so they've never done any actual cooking in the orphanage. It's natural for them to be curious if they've never seen raw ingredients before, I guess?"
Come to think of it, I read in some magazine somewhere that even in Japan there's plenty of kids who only know what carrots look like because they've bought them in a supermarket and have never actually seen them growing, so when they see fields full of leaves they don't actually understand what they're looking at. If something like that can happen in a country like Japan where all kinds of information is so readily available, then it's not strange at all that people here wouldn't know much of anything outside of what they experienced in their everyday lives.
"So, how about I go teach them how to butter them?"
With butter and knife in hand, he heads out again, grinning. Shortly thereafter, Fran returns.
"As expected, cleaning the basement of the girls' dormitory, where the youngest children were living, has been a very difficult task. Currently, everyone who had been assigned to cleaning the girls' dormitory is assisting. It should be done shortly. Additionally, unlike the boys' dormitory, there are not very many people living in the girls' dormitory at the moment, so the unbaptized children have been given use of some of the small rooms on the first floor as well. Presently, the straw-stuffed bedding and changes of clothing are being brought in."
I breathe a sigh of relief, hearing that report. Making sure that those children had a place to sleep is very important.
"Have you memorized your greeting, Sister?"
"...More-or-less. But, just to be safe, can I bring this paper with me?"
"Certainly. Now then, please call for me when you are ready to leave. Delia, please tend to Sister Maïne's preparations."
As Fran heads downstairs, Delia comes up to help me get my hair in order. She sits me down in front of the dresser and slides my hairpin out. As she picks up the comb, she looks at me in the mirror, her face a mix of pain and sorrow.
"...Did you save them?"
"I did," I reply. "It seems they're now healthy enough to be able to stuff their own bedding with straw."
"Ah."
Even though I just told her I'd been able to help them, her expression doesn't lighten at all. She averts her eyes, lips pursed as if she's swallowed something bitter.
"...Delia, why are you looking so sad? Aren't you happy?"
"I am, but... it's just frustrating. Why... why didn't you save me back then?"
"I wasn't even here yet, so I couldn't have—"
"I know that!" she yells. It looks like she couldn't stop herself, even though she knows she's just venting her anger on me. "I know that, but..."
Her pale blue eyes fill with tears that look like they might spill over at any moment. It hurts me to imagine how many painful memories she must have had to endure before her baptism, and how many times she must have wished to be saved.
"I wasn't there in time to help you back then, but I'll try to be there for you next time. I'll really be there for you, so... don't cry."
"I'm not crying!!" she yells, scrubbing roughly at her eyes.
"S, sorr—"
"Don't apologize to your attendant!"
"...Okay."
It seems like I might have wounded her pride by pointing out that she's crying.
...I think the poor girl might be just a bit unreasonable, though.
Since it sounds like my inauguration as orphanage director is something of a public occasion, we've decided that I'll be wearing the same hairpin that I did for my baptismal ceremony, the one with wisteria flowers.
"This is an unusual ornament," says Delia.
"It's the hairpin that I made for my baptismal ceremony. The Gilberta Company is starting to sell them."
"...You made this? By yourself?"
"I had some help, but yes, I can make things like that. If I have the materials, of course."
"The materials..." she says, her eyes fixated on the hairpin as if she's a predator locked onto her prey.
After she finishes combing out my hair, I put my hairpin in. Delia doesn't know how to do it yet, so I have to do it myself.
"Sister Maïne," says Fran, "we have finished our preparations to depart."
The soup has been poured into several pots and loaded into the wagon. Behind Fran, I see a few gray-robed priests I haven't seen before.
"These are the priests who will be assisting in carrying in and serving the soup," he says.
"Ah, excellent. Thank you," I say to them.
"No," one replies, "it is we who should be thanking you. The gods' blessings have been very spare as of late, so everyone will be very grateful for this."
"Oh, but this is not the gods' blessings. This is a reward from me."
"Huh? A reward?"
He blinks, as if unsure what I actually mean. I just smile at him, ending the conversation.
Fran holds me in his arms, and we make our way around the building, heading along the walkways until we reach the front door of the orphanage. Since we're taking the long way around, it's actually a surprisingly long walk. If I'd been on foot, the priests wouldn't have been able to match my walking speed.
He lets me down before the orphanage's door, then makes sure that neither my hair nor my clothing has gotten disheveled. A priest, seeing that everything's in order, pulls the door open with a creak, then in a clear, carrying voice, calls out to everyone inside.
"Everyone, by the blessings of the highest of all gods who rule over all in the high, lofty skies and those of the five gods who rule over all in the wide, vast earth, the priestess who has become the new orphanage director has arrived."
On the other side of the door is the dining hall. At first, I'm a little surprised that what I see through the front door are the rows of long tables that fill the room, but when I think about how the gods' blessings must be carried in by hand, and that the boys only enter this building for the sake of going to the dining hall, it seems pretty reasonable.
Seated along the tables were rows of gray-robed people, but as soon as the priest called out his introduction they all stood up in unison, turning to face me. I feel the pressure of everyone staring at me, appraisingly, and I have to fight the urge to look away and to shield myself from their gazes.
"Let us welcome her, and raise our prayers to the heavens. We pray to the gods!"
When everyone, as a group, suddenly snaps into the Gl█co pose, I don't just fail to look away, but I find myself just staring.
"This way, Sister," says Fran.
He takes my hand, guiding me along a carpet that has been laid out towards a table. The priests in the front of the crowd that are easiest for me to see are all holding their prayer poses perfectly, but behind them I can see the younger children having trouble keeping their balance. They're a good match for me.
As the prayer ends and all eyes return to me, Fran gently lifts me up and sets me down to stand on the table. Quietly, he murmurs in my ear.
"As nobly as you can, please."
When it comes to getting gray-robed priests to follow your orders, it seems that the first impression is key. Just like Gil knew who I was right from the start, it seems like it's common knowledge among the gray-robed clergy that I, who joined the temple as a blue-robed priestess, am a commoner. Fran cautioned me that if I give off the impression that I lack self-confidence, they're not going to take me seriously, so I must show them the dignity of a noble.
I must stand proudly and never avert my gaze. My smile should show as much calm as I can manage. The basics of it are the same as when I'd come with Benno to deliver my donation to the temple.
Fran had told me that if it absolutely comes to it, I should feel free to release a bit of my mana to lightly coerce them. That will make them understand the difference in our statures, he said, with a smile. I really don't want them to be weirdly terrified of me, though, so I hope that I can get out of this without having to use my mana at all.
I've somehow managed to memorize my greeting, but the only experience I have speaking in front of a crowd like this was during Urano days, back when I had to present my bachelor's thesis, or even way back in elementary school when I'd won some kind of award for my book report and nearly died of embarrassment while having to read it out loud to the entire student body.
As everyone in the crowd stares at me, I force myself to take a slow breath, still shivering with tension. When I do, I feel the flowers hanging from my hairpin gently sway behind me. Reminded that I have the hairpin that my whole family made for me, I find myself relaxing, just a little bit.
"It is a pleasure to meet all of you on this day that so shines with the blessing of the god of fire, Leidenschaft. My name is Maïne. I have been entrusted with the duty of being the director of this orphanage. I am grateful, from the bottom of my heart, that you have so willingly listened to my wishes today and given me such warm welcome."
Now that I've expressed my thanks for the welcome and stated my reason for being here in such pretty, ornate words, I need to tie it all back together by reciting the names of the gods.
"Let us now lift our prayers and gratitude to the highest of all gods, who rule over all in the high, lofty skies, and to the five gods who rule over all in the wide, vast earth: the goddess of water, Frühträne, the god of fire, Leidenschaft, the goddess of wind, Schutzaria, and the god of life, Ewigeliebe."
It seems like the remarks Fran had written out for me are some kind of standardized speech in the temple. In response to my words, the priests all immediately assume the prayer pose.
"We pray to the gods! We give thanks to the gods!"
Ever since coming to the temple, I've had to practice my prayers with Fran and the head priest, so I've gotten just a little bit better at the prayer pose. I'm still not actually good at it, but even still, my balance is good enough now that I'm not risking falling over. Todays prayer was, if I do say so myself, excellent work.
Next, now that my speech is done and I've gotten over the part that I was nervous about the most, it's time to pass out the rewards.
"You have done such an excellent job today in cleaning the orphanage for my sake. I brought you a reward. Fran, if you will, please have it served to everyone who worked hard today."
"As you wish, Sister," he replies.
Fran takes out a wooden slip and reads off the names of the people who didn't help with the cleaning. As he does so, the priests who are helping pass out the soup walk around, serving it to everyone except for the people whose names were called.
As I look on, reminded of food being served at a school cafeteria, a young boy, about as old as Gil, who hadn't gotten any soup turns to glare at me, his face bright red.
"You're mean! This isn't equal!" he yells, sounding just like Gil did at the start. "The gods' blessings are given equally to everyone! Even a commoner like you should—"
"Indeed," I reply, "the gods' blessings are given equally."
I smile pleasantly at him.
"But these are not the gods' blessings. I told you that this was a reward given to those who worked hard, did I not? Were you perhaps not listening? A reward is not equal. I'm afraid that I cannot reward those who do not work. It is said that if any would not work, neither should he eat.1 Everyone, please remember this."
The boy stares dumbly at me, his anger forgotten, as if he'd been completely caught off guard by my rebuttal.
"...A, a reward?"
"That's right, a reward. Please, try to work hard next time. Now, I have something more for those of you who worked exceptionally hard for me. When your name is called, please bring your plate to the front of the room."
At that, a gray-robed priest opens the lid of the steamer that contains the buttered kalfe Lutz made. The smell of butter wafts gently out into the room. As Fran begins reading off names, priests and priestesses start walking hesitantly forward holding their plates, looking fearfully around the room. One by one, the buttered kalfe are placed onto each priest's plate.
"I heard you were the quickest to run to get the children and help wash them. I very much appreciate it."
"You're very fast at cleaning, I hear? Lutz had great praise for you."
"You took the initiative to carry some of the heaviest things, didn't you? Thank you for your hard work."
All I'm doing is reading off of the notes I made when Fran and Gil explained the reasons for their selections to me, but all of them are looking at me like they're overwhelmed with emotion. Some of them are even making the same face that Gil did the first time I praised him.
I'm suddenly deeply aware of how blessed I am to have the family I do. Memories of how tremendously they praised me whenever I was able to do even just a little bit more than before float through my head.
Just like how my family did for me, I think that as the director I'm going to need to look hard for everyone's strong points and make sure to praise them for it.
"Please continue to keep up the good work. Now, please, enjoy your food."
The next afternoon, we hold a cooking class, teaching everyone how to make soup. Everyone's been split into groups again—the vegetable-washing group, the vegetable chopping group, and the group in charge of filling up the pots and tending the fires—and are learning under the tutelage of Tuuli and Ella. Hugo is back in the kitchen, working hard by himself to make dinner.
Professors Ella and Tuuli are teaching everyone how to chop vegetables. Those of the priests who have enough strength use kitchen knives, and those apprentices who aren't strong enough yet use smaller paring knives. Since this soup is going to be a reward as part of tonight's dinner, everyone is working in earnest. Even while marveling over the meat and vegetables that they've never seen in their raw forms before, they're doing their best to wash and chop the vegetables, despite how unfamiliar the motions are.
I quietly observe how the first batch of cooking that Maïne's Workshop has ever done is going. Fran has instructed me that, as a blue-robed priestess, it's okay for me to be here as long as all I'm doing is watching. Under no circumstances am I allowed to help.
I vaguely feel like there's someone's eyes on me. When I turn to look, I see that the boy who hadn't eaten yesterday keeps glancing over at me as he makes sure to take the initiative as he works. I'm pleased to see him so fiercely asserting himself, so when I give out slices of fruit as a reward, I make sure he gets a slightly bigger piece.
There is nothing much I can do with my resolve to help the orphans while I'm at home. I had a discussion with Lutz and Fran, then after agreeing "life is precious", we started our secret work.
Since I have no idea what, if anything, the kids over there are able to safely digest at this point, we decided that we'll be soaking crumbled bread in soup to make a bread porridge, and Gil will bring it to them via the secret entrance. With Fran bringing the gods' blessings in from the front, and Gil sneaking the porridge in from behind, we'll most likely be able to be able to let the orphans eat without anyone noticing, or so Fran says.
"Gil was the most interested in this," he continues, "so I believe he should be willing to take the initiative."
"If Gil's doing it," adds Lutz, "then tell him I can lend him a set of clothes so he can do that kind of dirty work."
That's all we could do today, but it's only because I can tell myself that none of those kids are going to starve to death literally tonight that I'm able to relax a little bit. I let my face slacken, breathing a sigh of relief, but Fran's face remains tense as he looks at me.
"Sister Maïne, it is very likely that the temple master will disapprove of your plan to save the orphans, so please be very wary of Delia," he says.
"...You think the head priest will be okay with it?"
I thought that it wasn't just the temple master who disapproved, but the head priest as well, but I wonder what Fran thinks?
"I shall convey your thoughts to him. You are most assuredly not alone in being chagrined by the state of the orphanage and the treatment of the priests and priestesses there."
"Huh?" I say, tilting my head doubtfully. "I got the exact opposite impression, though?"
Fran's eyes widen momentarily in mild shock, then, with an expression of resignation, casts his eyes downward.
"Were you not listening to what Delia was saying? The temple master has more power than the head priest does. In addition, the Father keeps his true intentions deeply concealed so that the temple master cannot nitpick his every move, which makes him very difficult to read, but I feel that he is indeed irritated at the current state of the temple."
"...I had no idea at all."
Where in that conversation had the head priest conveyed his irritation? Is Fran just able to hear his inner thoughts as well as the words he’s saying?
As I wrack my brain, trying and failing to understand, Lutz just shrugs his shoulders.
"You should probably tell the head priest that Maïne didn't get his meaning," he tells Fran.
"As you say. And it will be very necessary, Sister, for you to learn the particular euphemisms that the nobility cloaks their words in."
The way that they look at me with their tepid eyes, like I'm a useless little child, really hurts.
Over the next few days, as Gil secretly sneaks food in, Fran and I discuss the easiest way to convey our requests to the head priest. We ask Lutz's opinion as well, and since this involves Maïne's Workshop, Benno gets involved as well, grumbling about how he's being dragged into another pain in the ass.
I originally wanted to get permission from the head priest as soon as possible and get my orphanage improvement plans started by force, but Benno got angry again, yelling about what a thoughtless little girl I am.
"Don't just force your way through! When you're dealing with the nobility, no matter how much you hate all the extra effort to take a roundabout path, you absolutely have to lay all the groundwork first! Rather, you need to have everything decided in advance. If you just suddenly show up, you can't even be sure if they'll talk to you to begin with!"
"It is exactly as Master Benno says," adds Fran. "I know that you typically begin to act the moment you decide on your goals, but when you need to have a conversation, you must first in advance convey to them the relevant information and your requests and then request the meeting. In a meeting with the nobility, you cannot be hasty. You must take as much time as you need to quietly make your preparations and ensure that the outcome will be advantageous for you."
When I, in my shock over seeing the state of the orphanage, kept begging the head priest for help, asking "isn't there something you can do?", I was committing a grave breach of manners, Fran tells me. The head priest was unable to make the proper preparations to meet with me, nor had he been able to gather any relevant information.
"This time is an excellent opportunity for learning, Sister Maïne. Please watch carefully as we arrange this meeting and make the necessary preparations, and then make sure to learn from the experience. This will be important to know going forward."
After all of our various discussions, we determine that, to start, I'll be taking on the role of orphanage director, then use my funds from Maïne's Workshop to reform the orphanage under the pretext of establishing a workshop in it.
We'll bathe the orphans and thoroughly clean out the orphanage. From there, we'll set up the workshop in the basement of the boys' dormitory, then in order to both cook and make paper, we'll install stoves and bring in the necessary tools.
We'll divide the people living in the orphanage into teams―the forest gathering and paper-making team, the orphanage housework team, and the temple work team―and then rotate them through each one in one-month intervals until they have experienced everything. Then, we'll ask everyone their preference and assign them to that team. They'll be able to freely chose what they want to do.
As we discover the kinds of clothing and tools we'll be needing, we'll have to go through Benno to acquire them. In order to acquire the funds we need to do that, I asked Lutz and Ralph to make wooden clothes hangers. Specifically, the kind of clothes hangers I'm familiar with, built to mimic the roundness of human shoulders. "These will keep clothes looking nicer than the cross-shaped hangars I saw at the used clothing store," I told Benno, and with glimmering eyes he immediately pounced on it.
Thank you, come again.
"What is the ultimate goal of the orphanage branch of Maïne's Workshop?" Benno asks, looking at me. I know that if I can't answer him now, he'll get mad at me for being thoughtless again.
"To make sure the orphanage can cover its living expenses. When the gods' blessings are insufficient, I think it would be good for them to be able to earn the money they need in order to buy enough food to make up for it."
"Just food?"
"The temple generally provides the bare necessities of what they need to live, so I think it'll be fine if they're able to earn enough to pay for food."
As I answer Benno's question, Lutz starts working through the calculations for the price of the paper and the cost of the necessary amount of food.
"...If it's just food, then it's way easier to make that happen that I thought."
Lutz had originally said that if the orphans didn't have money, then they could gather food in the forest, but when you think of how large the orphanage actually is, there's no way that they'd be able to sustainably gather all that they need. But, if you consider that they'd be able to earn enough money through the workshop, then if things go according to plan they'll be able to feed themselves out of the workshop's funds.
"If you're providing funds," says Benno, "is there any point to having them learn how to gather food?"
"I just want them to learn how while they're out there making paper. If they know, and if they're starving to death, then they'll be able to eat something, right? If they don't know any better, then they might pick poisonous mushrooms like I used to."
"You did pick a ton of poison mushrooms, didn't you..." says Lutz.
Fran, meanwhile, worked in the shadows to convey as much of the information he could to the head priest, and get his informal approval to my plan to become the orphanage's director and establish a branch of my workshop. On top of that, he arranged a meeting with the head priest to have a formal discussion about it.
It looks like formally requesting a meeting must take place several days in advance, so Fran teaches me how to format that particular letter, and I write it out.
...Man, nobles are a pain in the butt.
By the time the head priest's written invitation arrives, the orphans are much healthier due to Gil's secret efforts. He tells me that they've started gaining an appetite, and have moved on from eating only soup to being able to eat a little bit of solid food, and they're starting to get a little more lively. It sounds like they're getting to the point where they're healthy enough to be scrubbed all the way clean while their absolutely filthy rooms are cleaned out.
The head priest had told me to meet him after third bell, so when it chimes, I walk together with Fran to his chambers. Back in my rooms, Gil and Lutz are on standby, ready to leap into motion at any time.
"Father," I say, "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me."
"Ah, Maïne. ...Come this way."
It seems that the head priest has already had people clear out, since there's nobody else in his room apart from Arnaud. As I start walking to his work desk, as I usually do, he stands up and starts walking towards his bed.
"Father?!" says Arnaud, surprised.
Fran looks just as shocked, his eyes wide. I have no idea what's happening, but I follow behind the head priest anyway. He pushes the canopy around his bed aside, beckoning me closer. I tilt my head, wondering if there's something in deeper behind the bed, as I cautiously approach. Behind the canopy, I can see another door.
"We'll have our conversation in here," he says.
The head priest holds his hand out before the door, as if presenting it to a fingerprint scanner. In that moment, a glimmering blue-white magic circle springs into existence, and from the gem on the ring on his right finger a bright red light shines forth. The light traces the edge of the circle once, then dims.
"No attendants can pass through this door. Come here, Maïne."
The door clacks as he pushes it open, then he walks through, with neither Arnaud nor Fran following behind. When I see the dark room beyond, I'm momentarily filled with anxiety, and I glance back over my shoulder at Fran. He gives me a slight nod, urging me forward.
"P... pardon my intrusion," I say, stepping through the door.
As soon as I pass through the door and close it behind me, leaving the room in pitch darkness, windows suddenly appear, flooding the room with light, just as if shutters had opened, revealing the windows beyond.
"Whoa?!"
As I squint, shielding my eyes and waiting for them to adjust, I hear the rustling of the head priest moving things around the room. I slowly open my eyes, and see that the formerly pitch-black room has revealed itself to be something that distinctly reminds me of a university professor's office.
Every table and shelf is covered in piles of scrolls, sheafs of parchment, and stacks of several books. On racks I can see rows of tools that I've never seen before that somehow look like some kind of scientific equipment. In the corner, I see a couch that looks like it's supposed to be for relaxing, but there are yet more piles of documents scattered across it.
With no attendants allowed in here to keep everything neatly in its place, this room looks nothing like the head priest's other rooms, but instead very much like his own private space.
"You cannot enter this room unless you possess a certain amount of mana. I think you might be the only priest currently living at the temple besides myself who can even enter this room. This is a perfect place for a conversation."
"This is a really cool secret room! It's, like, super magical..."
The head priest looks over at me as he shoves the stacks of papers on the couch aside.
"...Your room should have something like this, shouldn't it?"
"Really? I didn't know that."
My bed doesn't have a canopy on it. All I have is the frame, without even a mattress on it. Thinking back on the time I collapsed though, it might be a good idea for me to get some sort of bedding on there.
"Your mana needs to be registered with the door, so you may not be able to use it."
"Registered how?"
"That's not important at the moment. Let's discuss what we are here for. Sit over there, please."
The head priest forcibly changes the topic, indicating the spot that he'd just cleared on the couch for me. He pulls his desk chair over for himself to sit on. When I look up at him, his face isn't guarded and expressionless like Fran's. His brow is furrowed, looking displeased.
...Is he about to spoil me?
I've been on the receiving end of several lectures from Fran over the last few days, so I think I can guess what's about to happen today. I wonder if he perhaps picked this particular place so that he can lecture me to a level that he can't do in front of the attendants? Even if I want Fran to come save me, there's nobody in here but the two of us, nobody will be coming to my aid.
"Uh, umm, so, Father. Why might you have brought me here?"
"I heard from Fran that you won't understand me if I were to use the roundabout phrasing that we noblemen typically use," he replies.
He looks pointedly down at me. Since he is normally the type to keep his face cool and expressionless, seeing his brow furrowed in displeasure is actually very scary. Unlike Benno, whose scoldings echo like thunder, the head priest's anger is cold, slowly freezing me from the feet up.
"Similarly," he says, "the other day, you thoughtlessly said some very important and very dangerous things very bluntly. Had you noticed that one of the Reverend's attendants was in my room on business?"
"I didn't, no. Not at all."
"Criticizing the Reverend's actions right in front of his attendant, for you to do such a thing..." he takes a slow breath. "In other words, you put my life at risk with that conversation. You had no awareness of this fact, did you?"
"...I'm, I'm very sorry."
I thought that what I'd been doing was trying to get the head priest to understand the situation, but what I'd actually been doing is criticizing how the temple master runs things. Everyone there, from the head priest to the attendants, must have been frozen solid with terror.
"At the very least, you will learn the names and faces of the other blue-robed clergy, as well as the faces of their attendants. If you lack awareness of what is happening around you, what might your enemies be doing without your knowing? You are far too careless."
His flabbergasted expression looks a lot like Benno's. It looks like, no matter where I go, I'll get scolded.
"...Mister Benno calls me thoughtless a lot," I say.
"Come to think of it, he did say you lacked wariness and didn't learn your lesson no matter how many times you are deceived. I agree wholeheartedly with his opinion. As a blue-robed priestess, you will be working alongside the nobility, so you must learn and understand how nobles interact."
"Yes, Father."
The head priest seems to be concerned entirely about my position. Just like Fran had said, his true motives had been so concealed that I hadn't been able to read them, but it seems like he's been protecting me from the temple master.
"You have no sense that would allow you to uncover the meaning hidden within my words, and no matter what your opinion may be you express it nakedly, yet in noble society this can be quite literally fatal. You must not, by any means, speak with such fright as you did. As I am incapable of determining whether or not I am successfully communicating my intentions to you, I have judged it best to use this room whenever I need to have a discussion with you that I do not wish for others to hear."
"I truly am very sorry, Father."
Since the head priest is unable to tell me what he truly means without saying it frankly, it seems like he's decided to have our conversations here. I know it's a huge bother, but I'm relieved to be able to talk openly with him.
"I heard this from Fran," he says, "but it seems you have decided that you will become the orphanage's director, then? You had said that you were unable to bear that responsibility; will you truly be able to do this?"
He studies me closely, his coldly gleaming eyes seeming to stare directly into my heart. I straighten up, solidifying my desire to help. I look right back at him, trying to convey my determination.
"To be honest, the concept of taking responsibility is still terrifying. However, things there cannot stay as they are, so if I am able to help, I want to do it."
"Hm. If you're resolved to do it, then I don't mind."
The fact that he agreed so easily is almost a total letdown.
"Huh? I say, looking quizzically up at him. "You're okay with it?"
"I already told Fran this informally, so you should have already received my approval, haven't you?"
"I did hear that, but that was so different from what I'd heard from you during our last conversation that I was pretty shocked..."
"Since I spoke circuitously, you didn't understand, so something like that was inevitable."
"Whoa, I'm sorry."
As I apologize for what must have been the thousandth time, the head priest picks up a few sheets of paper. He skims over them briefly, then looks back up at me.
"I heard the general details from Fran, but I wasn't able to understand them. I believe this may be because Fran did not have a complete understanding himself. He said that your conversations contained a lot of language and unspoken understanding peculiar to merchants. Please, explain to me just what you plan to do once you've become the orphanage's director."
I start to explain the plan that everyone's come up with.
"I will establish Maïne's Workshop within the orphanage. My first priority is to improve the dietary conditions of the children who will serve as my workers, as well as thoroughly clean the orphanage that they will be operating out of. I will then install the tools and equipment necessary for their work. From there, in order to improve their diet, I plan to enable them to cook their own meals. If they are able to make soup for themselves, then when they add that to the gods' blessings, they will be able to dramatically improve their nutrition."
"I see," he says, glancing at me. "And what did he mean by you taking everyone in the orphanage as your attendant?"
"...If they are my attendants, then I'll be able to send them on errands outside the temple."
"If that's the only reason, then give up on that. If, for instance, another blue-robe joins the temple and there are no capable individuals left in the orphanage to become their attendants, than your having acquired all of them will inadvertently cause strife. If you're the director, then it should be fine if you were to send them outside on errands."
"Understood."
If I can bring the children out of the temple, then there's no particular reason for me to make them my attendants. I nod to show my understanding.
"When you have their diets under control, then what?"
"I plan to have them make plant-based paper for me. Originally, I was capable of making this with only myself and Lutz, so once the children are taught the proper method, even they should be able to make it."
"Plant-based paper, you say..."
His eyes flick briefly to the stack of paper on his desk. Come to think of it, out of all of the gifts that Benno had brought him, he had been most interested in the paper.
"To prevent, for instance, misappropriation," I say, "I've already signed a magical contract ensuring that all products produced by Maïne's Workshop will be sold through the Gilberta Company, so I'm afraid it can't be taken directly by the temple."
"Excellent judgement, very merchant-like. So, for instance, even if the Reverend were to find out about this, he would not be able to abscond with it." His eyes narrow in disinterest. "Very good. Then, when you sell the paper, what next?"
"Once they sell the product, they will be able to buy enough food to fill their needs. If they do so, then I will not need to bring them food directly, and they will not risk starvation depending on the number of blue-robed priests and priestesses."
"Why would someone as ordinarily apathetic to others as you go so far as to do this, even though you stand to gain nothing from this highly difficult task?"
The intensity in his eyes tells me that this is the most important question he wanted to ask. I look back at him evenly.
"It would be so that I could protect my ability to read without worry, would it not?"
"What did you say?" he says, his eyes opening wide in disbelief.
"Knowing that I am separated by a single wall from children who are starving to death, I cannot help but be upset. Although I'm fine while I am immersed in a book, the moment I stop reading I remember that awful scene. The guilt and the disgust are too much to bear."
"So, in other words, it is for the sole purpose of removing obstacles in the way of your reading that you are taking on the role of orphanage director and establishing your workshop?"
"Precisely," I say, with a big nod.
The head priest rubs at his temples.
"You are, beyond all expectations, a colossal idiot."
"So I am often told," I reply mildly.
"...Fine. What is your timeframe? How long do you estimate this will take now that you've been given permission?"
"My initial preparations are nearly finished, so given the current season, we should be able to be producing paper, selling it, and purchasing food within the month."
"Oh?" he asks, impressed.
He murmurs to himself about how thorough my preparations are this time. Both Benno and Fran looked carefully over the plan more times than I could count, making sure it was airtight from both a merchant's and a noble's standpoint, so there should be no problems here at all. Their statement that the weakest link in the plan was me is still fresh in my mind.
"Very well. I'll approve your plan."
"Thank you very much," I reply. "Fran had told me that if I explained everything thoroughly, you in particular would be sure to understand. Mister Benno thinks highly of you as well, saying that you have excellent eyes for a priest, and told me that if I had to have a discussion with anyone at the temple, then it should be with you. ...If I may ask, why are you so different compared to the other priests?"
If I'd asked him anywhere else but here, he'd probably scold me to no end. Sure enough, as soon as I do, he sighs, telling me that I shouldn't ask things like that outside of this room.
"I don't intend on going into the precise details, but much like you, I was not raised here in the temple. I was raised instead in noble society, then joined the temple for certain reasons. That's all the more why I am so irritated with the Reverend's way of doing things, but as things are right now there is no real benefit in standing up to him. I would ask you to take care not to provoke any more of his anger than you already have."
"...Will my management of the orphanage not provoke his anger?"
If the orphans are able to earn a wage for themselves, that would fly in the face of the way things have been done until now. When I nervously ask my question, he snorts, asking why I'm only worried about this now.
"For now, I intend on making it appear that I am forcing this role on you, but you should take care not to do anything too ostentatious. In your particular case, your idea of common knowledge is so different from the rest of ours that I quite frankly have no idea what you might get up to. No matter what you want to do, tell me first. Also, pay very close attention to what Fran tells you. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir," I reply.
After he reminds me, over and over, to report to, contact, and consult with him, I leave his secret room and, with Fran, head back to my rooms.
"Maïne, how did it go?" asks Lutz.
"He was really mad at me. He told me I need to be serious about studying how nobles work. He called me thoughtless and careless, too..."
"So, uh, does that mean that we can't work on the orphanage?"
Lutz and Gil look worriedly at me, anxiety clouding their faces. I frantically shake my head.
"No, no, I'm the director now. We're okay to set up the workshop. But, seriously, no matter where I go, someone always gets mad at me..."
"Well, that's just because you're you," laughs Lutz, patting me on the head.
Before we can get our plan fully started, there's one last thing that remains for me to do: I need to talk to Delia. Her job is to report information to the temple master, and I want to bribe her into secrecy.
No matter how well I think I'm hiding things from her, my other two attendants have been wandering about, and Benno and Lutz have been constantly coming and going. If the orphanage suddenly starts getting more lively, then it would be impossible for her not to notice what's happening. However, until the workshop is actually on track to being profitable, I don't want the temple master interfering.
Since Delia had said that if I was able to help the orphans, then I should, I think that she will at least agree with the actual idea of me helping the orphans. I'd expect that since we've made all of the preparations necessary to help them, she's probably not going to say she'd rather let them die.
I decided to look her straight in the eye and tell her honestly. Since Delia also tells me when she meets with the temple master's other attendants, I think it's better to ask her for her help directly, rather than beating around the bush.
"So, Delia. I'm planning on doing something to help the orphans who haven't been baptized, and I don't want the temple master to interfere with that. I would like you to keep quiet about this for now. This is what you can do to help the orphans, and I think that helping them is something you want to do. Can I ask you to do this for me, perhaps?"
Delia is silent for a long time, but then she squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head like she's trying to clear it of something she's remembered.
"...I don't want to go to the orphanage. I don't want to remember anything about it, and I don't want to have anything to do with it."
"Yes, I know that. That's why I think you should stay here and keep an eye on the cooks. All I want you to do is look the other way, just a little. Can you do that?"
Keeping track of the ingredients and monitoring the cooks is an absolutely essential task, so someone absolutely needs to be left in my rooms. If I leave that task to Delia, who doesn't want to go to the orphanage, then there's no need for Delia herself to face it at all.
For a moment, she looks slightly relieved, but then she turns her head away haughtily. "Fine then, I'll stay quiet. But let's be clear: I'm not doing this for your sake. I'm doing it for the orphans. Don't think that you've moved me by your kindness."
I'm very relieved to hear her promise to keep quiet, and I promise her something in return.
"Thank you, Delia. I'm definitely going to save them."
"I, I'm not particularly asking you for anything! But no matter what you're doing, if you mess this up, I'm never going to forgive you."
She's acting very prickly, but is it wrong for me to think that she's somehow hopeful about this?
The Discussion with the Head Priest and My Determination
Having been rejected before I could say even a single word, I'm left completely unable to comprehend what the head priest just said. I hadn't even considered the possibility that someone who knows about the situation in the orphanage could tell me that there's no reason to improve it.
"What do you mean by there being no reason to improve the situation?" I ask. "There are very young kids in there on the verge of starving to death. That's no place to raise children..."
Thinking that perhaps he just hasn't heard all of the details, I uneasily start to explain to him what I saw earlier today, but he just raises his hands, cutting me off.
"With all of the working gray-robed priests and priestesses, as well as their attendants, we simply do not have the funds to spare for unbaptized orphans. Since you were raised by your parents from birth, you may not be aware of this, but the temple does not recognize unbaptized children as people. When they receive their baptisms and are registered as citizens, then they are acknowledged as people."
I already knew that it's not possible to hire someone who hasn't been baptized yet, so I'd figured that there was some sort of similar situation going on here. However, I can't imagine being okay with how those kids are being treated just because they aren't technically considered people.
"...So, then, you don't care if those children die?"
"Yes, if that were to be the gods' will. To be perfectly honest, it would be a great help if their numbers were to thin out."
I was hoping he'd say he actually cared, but he instead just clearly says that he doesn't. As I sit there, dumbfounded, he begins to explain to me the situation with the gray-robed priests and priestesses that currently remain in the orphanage.
"There used to be over twice as many blue robes as there are now. As for their attendants and apprentices, the math is easy to do. One blue robe has, on average, five to six attendants working for them. So, now that so many of them have been called back to noble society, do you understand how many attendants they left behind?"
If there are ten fewer blue-robed clergy here than there were before, then that means that there's between sixty and seventy attendants that were left here. Here in the temple, where attendants are supported as part of the blue robed priests' donations and living expenses, that would definitely cause an administrative breakdown.
"We were able to sell off thirty of the unnecessary priests and priestesses to the nobility to work as servants, but there are still too many here."
"Perhaps some of those priests could be tasked with taking care of the young children?"
"If they're being taken care of, then it'll be problematic if their number increases again. Do you know why the temple master disposes of his gray-robed priestesses? Hm, I think you might not be able to understand what I'm trying to say."
What I'm trying to get across is that, even though the number of blue-robed priests and priestesses at the temple is the lowest it's ever been right now, that number will rise again in the next few years, so it would be a problem if there simply wasn't anyone left in the orphanages. The head priest, however, says that the gods' blessings are already insufficient, so it'll be an even bigger problem if the number of people in the orphanage increases any more than it already has.
"...At the very least, even if it's just cleaning, can't something be done? I can easily imagine a plague ripping its way through such a filthy environment."
"Hmm. It's unsightly, so it's better to bury it all, you say? The thought isn't without its merits, but that would not be good for our reputation."
"No!! That's not at all what I meant..."
How the hell did you come up with that idea?!
I bite down on an angry yell. Our standpoints and sets of common knowledge are just too different. Even though we're hearing each others' words, we're not actually gaining a shared understanding.
"Father," I say, "why does the orphanage exist? Is it not a place to raise children who don't have any parents?"
"That's not entirely correct. It is a place that, at the charity of nobles, takes in children who have no one else to look after them and raises them so that they may serve the nobility."
Even what we think the orphanage is for is way too different. I can't even communicate any of my emotions about how they're pitiful or how I want to help them.
The head priest, sighs, seeming to be similarly irritated about not being understood.
"If you want something to be done about the dying children, then why don't you do it? Nobody thus far has wanted to become the orphanage director. If you were to take that position, then you'd have full responsibility over the entire orphanage. Will you do it?"
I gulp. I hadn't expected him to ask me that. While I do want to help the orphans, I am nowhere close to ready to take on the burden of taking care of the entire orphanage. I can't do something so terrifying.
I clench my fists tightly in my lap. "I can't," I say, shaking my head.
He nods, humming thoughtfully. Looking down at me, he continues his argument.
"Then, considering the current ratio of blue to gray robes, the gods' blessings are sufficient to feed about forty people in the orphanage. You, out of all the blue-robed clergy, are the most able to be free with your money. Are you capable of providing food for the remaining forty-plus people living in the orphanage?"
"...I am not. My workshop holds most of my funds. I don't actually have that much money I can freely use."
Between furnishing my rooms and paying my attendants, I'm already overspending right now. Right now, I'm at the level where I'm more-or-less okay, thanks to the money I made from selling recipes. But since the Italian restaurant isn't even open yet, I don't have any prospects for earning any more money. Right now, there's no way I can take on feeding all of the orphans.
"You can't take responsibility and you can't provide any funding. If you can't do anything, then be silent. A child like you, with your half-baked sense of justice, should not run your mouth. Don't think about silly things, just go be a good girl and read those books you love so much."
What he's saying is undeniably correct. I have no rebuttal. I can't do anything about it, so I have no right to complain. Rather than doing something half-heartedly, it would be better if I just did nothing at all.
"...I am terribly sorry for wasting your time," I say.
Head hanging, I leave the head priest's chamber.
I asked him for help and was told no. There is nothing more I can do. I have no choice but to just bear with it. No matter how much I try to tell myself that, though, it still feels like there's a ball of lead churning around in my stomach.
"Sister Maïne," says Fran, kneeling beside me, "shall I lead you to the library room? I believe that may help ease your mind."
There's genuine concern in his voice, unlike the sour tone he'd used when I told him I wanted to speak with the head priest.
"...Fran, did you know this was going to happen?"
"It was my job to understand what the Father is thinking. As such, I judged that this conversation would only dishearten you. Please, forget about the orphanage."
Fran takes me by the hand, and we go to the library. As I read, I immerse myself in the book, not thinking about anything unnecessary. However, before I even realize it, the sixth bell rings, telling me that it's time for Lutz to come pick me up. I need to leave the library and go back to my own room to change.
On my way back to my room, I catch a glimpse of the orphanage from the hallway. In that instant, all of the images come flooding back through my mind, and my gut starts to churn.
"Urgh..."
The instant I start to heave, I clap my hand over my mouth, trying desperately to keep everything in. Fran hurriedly picks me up, bringing me to a cleaning bucket.
I try not to cry as I throw up into the bucket.
There's no way I can forget what I saw. If I could spend every waking moment reading, then I might be able to forget about it, but I know that when I'm not reading, it's all going to come back.
In my Urano days, there was a huge physical distance between Japan and Africa. There wasn't a whole lot of impact on my daily life, so donating a couple hundred yen was enough to assuage my conscience. All I ever saw was the image on the TV screen, so my reaction was only ever "oh, those poor kids". Even if the topic came up when I was in the middle of eating dinner, I could forget about it immediately.
Now, though, my rooms are literally connected to the orphanage. Now that I know that there's only a single wall separating me from that awful situation, I won't be able to rest easy at all.
"Sister Maïne, how'd it go?"
Gil innocently runs up to me, asking me how my conversation went. His purple eyes, so dark they're almost black, are so full of hope that they're painful to look at.
I avert my eyes. "I'm sorry, Gil. The head priest refused me."
"Wh... why?!"
Gil stares at me in panicked disbelief. Not only can I not save the orphans from their situation, I can't even meet Gil's expectations. I stare down at the floor, bracing myself for whatever he's going to say next.
"Gil, restrain yourself," says Fran.
"Ugh, you idiot," says Delia. "Didn't I tell you that getting your hopes up was pointless?"
Their words hold him back. He chews his lip, looking like he has something he really wants to say, but then hangs his head in silence.
As Delia gets things ready to help me get changed, she shrugs, with a know-it-all expression on her face.
"The one really responsible for that situation is the temple master," she says, matter-of-factly, "who says that priestesses who are bearing child can't do their work and are useless, so they're always the first people he gets rid of. There's nothing that the head priest can do about that."
"Delia?" I say.
"It's true! Priestesses whose bellies are too big or who have just given birth live over there, but whenever it's decided that there's too many people in there, then they're the first to go, right? But, when guests come, you need to be able to offer them flowers, so there need to be replacements available for any priestesses whose bellies get too big, so you can't get rid of too many of them."
Delia tells me that right now, the gray-robed priestesses and apprentices that are left in the orphanage who do the cleaning and laundry are all fairly young and fairly attractive. Priestesses who give birth are disposed of. The ones who aren't pretty are sold off as servants to the nobility. All that's left are those who are candidates to be flowers. It sounds like this is all the result of keeping around only what's necessary for the blue-robed priests.
Men can't bear children, so they work for much longer. As a result, they become highly educated and thus fetch a high price when sold to the nobility as attendants. However, since the number of nobles in the city has decreased, there hasn't been as much demand. So, right now, there are actually more priests left over than priestesses.
"So what you're telling me is that the children in the orphanage are the blue-robed priests' children, then?" I ask. "Doesn't that mean they'll have noble blood?"
"...About half of them, do, I think? I mean, I do," she says, without hesitation.
"Huh? Then, you have mana, too?"
"The more mana you have, the harder it is to conceive a child. So, the only blue-robed priests here that are able to father children are the ones who have very little mana. I heard that fathering a child means that a priest will never be called back to noble society," she says.
So, now, all that's left in the temple are blue-robed priests who don't have any mana. This excessively self-centered style of management makes both my head and my stomach hurt.
"The temple master", Delia continues, "is the one who decides what goes on in the temple, so rather than try to go against him, I think it'd be better to do things he'd be happy with. Now, then! Gentlemen, please leave. Sister Maïne must get changed."
She claps her hands, driving Fran and Gil from the room, then starts quickly changing my clothes for me.
"Ugh! Don't make that face. You look like you're going to die. Just forget about it, alright? Even if you worry, there's nothing you can do about it," she says, skillfully helping me get dressed.
There's no way that there's nothing that I can do. If I invest all of Maïne's Workshop's funds, I should be able to do something.
However, neither the temple master nor the head priest are seeking to improve the orphanage. Also, if I do invest, then once my funds dry up, then everything goes back the way it was. On top of that, I don't have it in me to be able to take on the burden of caring for all of those peoples' lives. I'm too gripped with fear to even be able to just invest money in the problem.
"Lutz! Lutz!"
"Maïne?!"
I run through the temple gates, latching on tightly to Lutz. The instant I grab hold of him, all the tears I've been holding back burst forth, like a dam breaking. It's probably because of the sense of relief I feel from having returned to a place where my own knowledge of how things work is actually correct.
Lutz, by reflex, starts patting my head as he looks up at Fran, who came to see me off today.
"Did something happen?" he says.
"I shall explain while we walk," replies Fran, glancing briefly at the gatekeepers.
As we walk through streets full of people hurrying to get home, Fran explains to Lutz what had happened today.
"All she did was ask the head priest to help the orphans. She was unable to persuade him and was forced to abandon her attempt, but it seems that her heart remains unconvinced."
"...Whoa, those kids are going to die? That's real rough. But, Maïne, there isn't anything you can actually do about it, right? You should ignore it. Forget about it."
I live a poor, but still relatively comfortable life, so that scene struck me exceptionally deeply. There's no way I can just be convinced otherwise.
"I think it would be great if I could just forget about it," I say, tears streaming down my face. "I'd love to not know about it. But now that I know that something like that is happening literally on the other side of my wall, there's no way I can just forget about it!"
Lutz stops walking, turning to look at me directly.
"You really hate that disaster that you saw, right? What do you want it to be instead?"
The images flash through my mind again, and I think to myself about what I'd like to see in the orphanage instead.
"...I want those kids to be able to eat until they're all full, and I want them to all grow up big and strong. I want them to not have to sleep on that filthy, stinky, uncovered straw that looks like it's getting them all sick. I want them sleeping on blankets, at least!"
"Huh? You want them to eat until they're full? Man, you gotta be rich to do that, right? It's normal to just eat enough that you've got energy to keep moving. I don't even get to eat until I'm full at my house, you know."
It sounds like I'm aiming too high. Thinking back to my own life at home, I suddenly realize that I was thinking about managing the orphanage from the standards of noble society at the temple.
Lately, at the temple, I've been able to eat as much delicious food as I could possible want. Since even at home we've managed to increase our household earnings, I'd forgotten that it's rare for kids in the poorer parts of the city to be able to eat their fill. Lutz, for one, is constantly hungry, and is always constantly fighting for food with his brothers at the dinner table.
"Ah, right, they don't actually need to be all full..."
"And it's weird to expect that you'd be the one bringing in all the food, right? What about what they can get for themselves? If they're hungry, rather than just waiting around, what could they do?"
Since the temple is a particularly peculiar institution, I hadn't been using my own common knowledge to think of solutions, but if I set the target standard of living as an average kid from the poor parts of town, then the financial burden drops massively. Any food that can't be bought can be foraged for in the forest and brought back.
"Unfortunately, the orphans are not allowed to leave the temple," says Fran, looking pained.
The orphans are, for all practical purposes, kept locked in the orphanage. Before their baptism, it's so that the nobility doesn't have to see anything unsightly. After, it's so that they don't learn anything undesirable.
I don't think to comment on Fran's view. Lutz, however, has no knowledge of how the temple works, and objects.
"So, tell me," he says, tilting his head, "who decided that orphans can't leave the temple? If they're not needed for anything, then there's no problem for them to be going to the forest, now, is there? Like, what about you and Gil? You can leave."
"Fran and Gil are my attendants," I say, "so they're a special case."
Since I commute to and from the temple, escorting me to and from home is part of their job. It's effectively the same as when other blue-robed priests bring their attendants with them to the nobles' district. It's not like they can just come and go freely.
"So, how about you take all the kids that are left there and make them your attendants? If you do that, then they can all leave, right?"
"...Huh?"
I look up at Lutz, blinking several times at his unexpected proposal.
"Please hold on," says Fran. "Think of how many... Sister Maïne, would it not be unreasonable for you to provide the necessities of life to all of them?"
"Well," says Lutz, "if we're thinking of getting them outside, then yeah we need to get all of them clothes, but since we're just talking about clothes for going to the forest, then we can get them real cheap from some of the second-hand clothing stores we use, can't we?"
I start running the math in my head for buying used clothing for all of the orphans, as well as getting knives and baskets for going to the forest. Since it would be impossible, after all, for everyone to simultaneously abandon their duties in the temple to go to the forest, I could have a squad rotation instead, meaning that they'd be able to share equipment, cutting down on how much I need to buy.
"...If it's just cheap second-hand clothing for fifty to sixty people, plus knives and baskets for going to the forest, then it'll be cheap," I say. "It'll be about thirty percent of the cost I spent on clothes for you and the other two," I tell Fran.
Fran's eyes fly open in shock, and he looks down at what he's wearing. The clothes I bought for my attendants are high class. They are nothing even remotely comparable to what I wear when I'm at home.
"They should be able to go to the forest, forage for food, and take care of themselves. After all, the orphanage doesn't have any money, so in other words, they're all poor people."
He's being very blunt, but he's also very right. They shouldn't just have to wait to be given things they need. They should be able to take care of themselves.
I turn to Fran. "Since I've asked you and Gil to go to Benno's shop a few times already, it sounds like it's possible to send attendants out on errands?"
"...You are correct," he says, slowly.
"So, if I were to ask my attendants to go to the forest to harvest, say, folin for me, then would that be possible?"
Lutz's eyes immediately light up.
"A branch of Maïne's Workshop in the orphanage?"
"Yeah! If I open up a branch of Maïne's Workshop in the orphanage, and they can make things in order to pay for their own food expenses, then even if I'm not there anymore, then they won't start starving."
Rather, getting them in a position where they can go to the forest, gather food, and cook for themselves comes first. As Lutz and I talk about what the most efficient way to do things might be and where to start the project from, Fran suddenly interjects, looking like he has something hard to say.
"These are all very excellent ideas," he says. "...However. These are all extremely different from how the temple has done things historically. The head priest will also ask you if you are prepared to shoulder the responsibility for all of those people. Are you able to do so?"
All of the blood instantly drains from my face.
It's exactly as he says. I'm an outsider, and a child at that. If I were to suddenly burst in, ignoring all custom, and ransack the orphanage, I can't imagine any good would come from that. I'd be in conflict with the blue-robed priests, including the temple master and the head priest, and if I'm paying people based on their work at the workshop, then no matter how you look at it that's not distributing everything equally among everyone.
"Sorry, Lutz. I can't take on that much responsibility. It's too scary..."
"So. Which is scarier, then? All those orphans dying without you doing anything, or taking responsibility?"
"..."
They're both terrifying. If I abandon the orphanage the way that it currently is, then every single day I'm going to feel like there's a leaden pit in my stomach. However, there's no way that I can actually take responsibility for other peoples' lives.
I hold my hand to my stomach. Lutz just shrugs at me.
"Hey, Maïne. Don't think about it too hard. If you try, and it doesn't work, it's okay to just stop, isn't it?"
"Lutz, just stopping... the lives of the orphans are at stake, you know?"
I scowl at him, but he just snorts back at me in a very Benno-like fashion.
"Isn't it normal for a workshop that doesn't do any work or a shop that doesn't have any sales to go bankrupt? But if you're doing this in the orphanage, then even if the workshop goes under, then it's not like the workers are suddenly out in the cold, you know?"
"...Because they're still living in the orphanage, and at least they're still getting the gods' blessings, huh."
"Even if the workshop doesn't work out, nobody's going to be out on the streets, so what exactly does it mean that you need to take responsibility for their lives? Also, since we're talking about something Maïne's Workshop is doing, you know you've got me here with you too, right?"
I think there are probably a lot of different things that I'll need to take responsibility for. If Benno were telling me to take responsibility, then he'd be telling me to take responsibility as the workshop's head. And there's bound to be even more cases I'm not thinking about.
But, still. If I'm working together with Lutz, then I think we might just be alright. It's too scary for me to do by myself, but if I have Lutz with me, who's been by my side all this time, then I'm positive that we'll be able to make something work.
"Let's do this together, Maïne," he says. "You want to help them, right?"
"Yeah!" I reply, jumping forward to take his outstretched hand.
Fran smiles, looking like he's facing down the inevitable.
"I shall assist you as well, Sister Maïne," he says.
May contain disturbing content, see note 1 for details.
It has been a few days since Delia started working as an attendant. Since it was decided that I have to take days off, I stayed home on the day of earth, which Tuuli and my mother have off as well, but apart from that I've been going to the temple every single day. Since I've had to spend so much time on tasks like taking receipt of the things I ordered from Benno and writing up new recipes on wooden boards to teach to the cooks, I've been trying to get even just a little more reading time back into my life.
During these past few days, my attendants have sorted out each of their assigned duties amongst themselves. Delia is in charge of the bathtubs, the toilets, and laundering my expensive clothing, as well as looking after my daily needs and cleaning the second floor. It also seems like Fran is teaching her how to prepare tea, as she's started helping with that as well.
Gil primarily handles cleaning the first floor and sweeping the grounds outside, as well as keeping an eye on the cooks as they work. He's also currently in the middle of having proper speech and etiquette drilled into his skull by Fran. When I'd mentioned in a conversation that Lutz had spent last winter learning how to read and do math, Gil got fired up and declared that he's going to do that too, but according to Fran there's a huge mountain of things that he needs to learn before he can start on anything else.
Speaking of Fran, not only does he spend time checking the other attendants' work, but he does everything else that needs doing as well. On top of his regular duties, he's in charge of reading the recipes to the cooks as well as taking regular inventory to make sure that they aren't misappropriating any of the ingredients or trying to sneak out any of the finished product.
In the morning, he accompanies me to the head priest's chambers as I work on the paperwork. After delivering the leftovers from lunch to the orphanage, he starts the afternoon by explaining the menu to the cooks and verifying that they have the right ingredients, then accompanies me to the library room. He monitors my condition, is there to receive Benno when we have advance notice of his arrival, educates the two apprentices, and teaches me anything I need to know about the nobility, which is everything. Right now, everything is left to Fran.
I've been concerned about how he might be overworked, but when I asked if perhaps his workload was too intense, he replied that since he is never summoned unexpectedly at night, he finds it quite pleasant. He is just too amazing. As my gratitude to him, my trust in him, and his salary skyrocket, I'm becoming more and more thankful to the head priest for having backed me up by assigning me such an excellent attendant. I wouldn't have gotten this far without him.
Today is, strictly speaking, my day off, but I've come to the temple anyway. I had a marble bathtub, which I was told was in vogue with the nobility these days, installed in the second-floor room that I had thought was for storage, so I need to go pay for it.
Honestly, carrying enough water for a bath seems tremendously difficult, and I already bathe myself at home with Tuuli, so I don't think there's any need for me to actually have a bathtub. However, when I'd asked if just a washbasin would be good enough, Delia got mad. "Ugh, what are you saying?!" she had said. "As an attendant to the temple master, I need to be taking far more baths to remain decent!"
Delia wanted to use the tub as soon as it arrived, so when it did I told her she could go right in, but, of course, she got mad again. "As if I could use it before my master has even touched it! Ugh!" It seems that baths for blue-robed priestesses are able to use both water and firewood, but gray-robed priestesses are only allowed to use water.
"Now then, perhaps you could ready the bath for me?" I ask.
She has to carry hot water all the way up from the kitchen, so I thought it would be an onerous task, but Delia, who is almost always prickling with anger, bounces happily up the stairs as she does so. I decide that if she's enjoying herself I might as well leave her alone.
Delia washes my hair with rinsham, helps me get dressed, dries my hair, and, after absentmindedly making sure that my hair looks good, declares that she'll be making use of the remaining bathwater and jumps in. I imagine that she's so enthusiastic about this because of her own desire for self-improvement.
"Sister Maïne," says Fran, having brought me something to drink while Delia is in the bath, "please do not place too much confidence in Delia. She is still connected to the Reverend."
He scowls in discomfort as he delivers his warning. When I see how serious his face is, I can't help but chuckle a little.
"I know," I reply. "She just described herself as 'an attendant to the temple master' a few minutes ago, after all."
It seems like Delia is still firmly convinced that nobody could get rid of someone as cute as her. However, it also seems like she's not able to return to the temple master's side and has made me the foundation of her daily life instead. I'm fairly sure that she's doing this not just because she can use this to get a lot of information about me, but also because the work itself is easy and the pay is good.
From what she's said, the temple master keeps two gray-robed priests and three gray-robed priestesses in his chambers. He also has three apprentice attendants, including Delia. Those three apprentices are required to take care of six people's daily necessities. Here, however, the only person that really needs taking care of is me. On top of that, compared to other blue-robed members of the clergy, I really don't have a whole lot that needs taking care of. On top of that, Fran, who distrusts her, isn't making use of her like he might with a different apprentice, so he is giving her a lot less work than what might otherwise be expected.
So, it seems like Delia is still fixated on the idea of becoming the temple master's mistress and is thus keen on particular kinds of self-improvement. As an attendant, she isn't looking to be useful to someone, she's looking for someone she can use. Her particular goals aside, though, she is very hardworking in pursuit of them.
"Even if Delia still passes everything along to the temple master, as long as she still works hard at her job, I do not particularly mind either way. We just need to be careful about what information we're willing to let her have. ...I am not entirely certain as to what information we must keep concealed from her, however."
He sighs. "You're quite clearly audible right now," he says.
He tells me that the most important things to keep from her is anything about my family or about Lutz. Those are my weakest points, he says.
Delia returns from her bath, and we have lunch. Today's lunch is fluffy bread rolls, a consommé, bacon, and vegetable soup, and baked chicken with herbs. Gil and Delia take turns waiting on the table, and those who aren't serving the table eat at about the same time I am. Fran isn't serving the table because he'll be going to bring the leftovers to the orphanage as the blessings of the gods, as after lunch he'll be accompanying me to the library.
"Then, Sister Maïne, I shall deliver the blessings of the gods to the orphanage," he says.
"Please do," I reply.
Outside, a wagon has already been loaded with the leftover soup, bread, and chicken, which are still warm. Since the wagon is quite heavy, Gil and Delia don't yet have the strength to push it, so the task is left to Fran.
"Oh? Did Fran leave already?"
Shortly after Fran takes off, Gil exits the kitchen carrying a basket with a few more rolls in them. When he looks out the front door and sees that the wagon has already been taken away, he looks down at the basket he's carrying.
"What's wrong, Gil?" I ask.
"Delia was all, like, 'As if you could eat all of that! Ugh!' so I thought that if I hurried I might be able to make it before the cart left. I'd been thinking that it would be a good idea to save a little so that we could have some left when it's time for dinner, but it sounds like the cooks are going to be baking some different bread this afternoon, so..."
"The gods' blessings are lacking right now, are they not? Perhaps it would be best for you to bring those there yourself?"
"Sure, I'll do that!"
Gil smiles confidently, hoisting up the basket in his arms. There's only four rolls in there, but I'm sure that the orphans will be happy to get more food.
"Hey, Gil," I say, "might I perhaps come along with you? I've never seen the orphanage myself."
"I'll show you around! I actually know a shortcut. Here, this way!"
With Gil leading the way, we head towards the orphanage.
Even though the entrance to my rooms is different from the orphanage's entrances, the orphanage is still fairly close by, so it wouldn't be odd for me to see younger children around. Strangely, though, I never have. I've seen children around Gil and Delia's age, who've already been baptized, doing things like sweeping the corridors and the worship halls, doing laundry by the water well, and tending to livestock in their pens, but I've never actually seen any children who haven't been baptized yet.
"Alright," says Gil, "so once we leave, then we take the walkway that goes around the building there. The wagon can't go on any stairs, you know? So this way is way shorter. We're probably gonna even beat Fran there."
Gil, with the kind of boastfulness you only see when someone's spoiling a huge secret, starts heading towards the temple gates. As for me, if he really does know a shortcut, I'd very much like to take it to save what little stamina I have.
We make our way around the building, reaching the stairs in front of the hall of worship. As we descend, the radiant summer sunlight makes the white stone of the stairs even more brilliant. I really haven't been walking around outside that much outside of the cool hours of the morning and evening, but here beneath the noonday sun I can feel the true heat of summer.
"The orphanage's cafeteria is in the girls' dormitory. The girls' dormitory has all of the kids that haven't been baptized yet and also any gray-robed priestesses that aren't anyone's attendants. When boys are baptized, they go to the boys' dormitory. So since the gods' blessings are given out equally to everyone, it's way easier to have the boys come to the girls' dormitory from wherever they're working instead of making the girls bring the little kids with them to the boys', right?"
"Huh..." I say, thoughtfully.
I listen to Gil talk about the orphanage as we make our way down the stairs and head towards the girls' dormitory. Near the stairway, there's a hidden back door to the orphanage. It looks like it's barred from the outside, like nobody's particularly worried about any intruders breaking in but are instead trying to make sure that nobody can get out this way.
"Basically nobody but me knows that this actually opens. From the other side, it just looks like the rest of the wall, and you can't open it from that side either."
"How do you know about it, then?"
"Once, when I was really little, I saw it open in the middle of the night. Someone was beckoning from outside, and a gray-robed priestess ran out to meet them. I wanted to go out too, but the door closed right away. Back then, I really wanted to be able to go outside, so I kinda thought that maybe someone had come to get me out of there."
Gil, a nostalgic look in his eyes, sets the basket down at his feet and undoes the bolt. The door doesn't seem to want to move, as if it's rusted, so he throws his entire weight into pulling it open.
As soon as the door cracks open, a gust of hot, foul air rolls out, and I instinctively clap my hands over my nose. Gil, making the same face, pinches his nose shut. Even though I'm used to the stink of the city, this stench is more than I can handle.
The door swings wide and I can clearly see what lies beyond. A number of completely naked children lie on filthy piles of straw that stink of stale shit and piss, staring blankly at the ceiling with lifeless eyes. The room appears to be completely closed in, so even though the noonday sun is shining brightly outside the interior of the room is dark and gloomy.
"...Blessings of the gods?"
Perhaps drawn by the smell of the bread, a small, skeletal child, her skin smeared with something black starts crawling towards us, a desperate gleam in her eyes as she calls out to us in a raspy voice.
I've only ever seen anything like this in magazines or on TV, in pictures of emaciated children fleeing Africa. As I watch this child creep towards me along the ground, the first thing that crosses my mind isn't pity, but fear. I freeze on the spot, unable to say a word, teeth clattering in terror.
"N... no..." I whimper.
Gil snaps back to his senses when he hears me, frantically shutting the door and slamming the bolt closed. There's pounding on the other side of the door, like something's trying to break out, but there's no force behind the blows. There's no way the door is going to be broken down and let whatever is inside come pouring out.
As soon as relief from having fled from my fear washes over me, images of the unthinkable scene I saw inside that orphanage crowd their way into my brain. My mind goes blank and my consciousness winks out as I faint on the spot.
When I wake up, I'm in my own room. I move my hand experimentally, feeling that I'm lying on something hard, and realize that I'm not laying on a cotton-stuffed mattress like a noble would use, nor a straw-stuffed mattress like I have at home, but the plain, unadorned boards of the bed that I'd never bothered to do anything with. I turn my head, looking around, and see Gil in a chair at my bedside, sitting in a fetal position, making himself as small as he can.
"...Gil?" I say.
"You're awake? ...Oh man. I'm so sorry. I..."
He looks like he might be about to cry as he starts talking, but before he can get another word out, Delia's voice rings out from behind him.
"Ugh, seriously! You took Sister Maïne to the girls' dormitory and of all things you took her to the back door?! You complete idiot!"
"As if I did that on purpose! Did you know about what was in there?!"
As soon as the words "what was in there" leave his mouth, images of what I saw in the orphanage flash through my head. The room, completely shut off from the outside world. The straw, soaked in human filth. The children, entirely skin and bones and completely naked. That is no environment to raise children. Even animal pens have better ventilation than that.
As I remember, my whole body breaks out in goosebumps, and something sour starts to surge up from my stomach. I bolt upright, swallowing hard, forcing it back down. Fran, seeing me suddenly sit up and clap my hand desperately over my mouth, brushes the helpless Gil aside as he approaches.
"I am deeply, unbearably sorry, Sister Maïne. I am truly regretful that you were shown such a disgraceful sight. Please, forget what you saw."
The way Fran describes the orphanage as a "disgraceful sight" and tells me to forget all about it makes me deeply uncomfortable.
I look over at Gil. "That was the orphanage?" I say. "That wasn't like you described..."
"After my baptism, I moved to the boys' dormitory, so I don't know anything about what the girls' dormitory is like right now, except for the cafeteria... The place you saw is for the kids that haven't been baptized yet, but it wasn't like that when I was there."
He hangs his head shamefully, mumbling out his answer. Delia glares at him, snorts, then starts to talk.
"It's because there aren't as many blue-robed priests around, so there aren't as many grey-robed priestesses left either. There isn't anyone left to take care of the children, so the littlest ones die off fairly quickly. If they can make it to their baptismal ceremony, then they can live on the first floor, so they're just waiting patiently for that day to come. ...That's how it was a year ago, when I left, so right now it's probably even worse. I don't want to think about it."
She looks down at the ground, shivering.
Gil is ten years old, so it seems like when he had his baptismal ceremony three years ago, things were much better than they are now. Delia has only just turned eight, and it sounds like around the time of her ceremony things were already horrible. Based on the grim information she reveals, it seems like since at least a year and a half ago there were fewer and fewer girls living in the dormitory, to the point where the orphans were almost completely neglected, only having food brought to them twice a day.
"On the day of my baptismal ceremony, a gray-robed priestess came to get me. She said that I was too unsightly and dirty to be shown to the blue-robed priests. She scrubbed me until I was raw, and when she was done, she said that I was cute, and that I'd be beautiful when I grew up. Right after the ceremony, she took me to the temple master. There were three other girls who were brought with me. I got to become an apprentice attendant, but the other girls weren't chosen, so they went back to the orphanage."
Now that I understand why she's so fixated on her looks and so strongly against the idea of returning to the orphanage, I feel even more depressed.
"Sister Maïne," says Gil, "please, help those kids. I'm begging you."
"Be silent, Gil," says Fran, sternly. "Sister, you must not get involved."
Even just remembering the image of what I saw makes me feel terrible, so I don't actually want to have anything to do with it, but I'm surprised that Fran, who grew up in the orphanage, would tell me not to get involved.
"What?! Why?!" objects Gil, saying just what I was thinking.
"It's too dangerous," says Fran, plainly. "Sister Maïne has shown a tendency to be particularly protective of things she finds important to her, such as when she turned her magic against the temple master in order to defend her family. If she were to develop deep ties to the orphanage and it were to become something important to her as well, then there is a strong possibility that she may stand in opposition to the blue-robed clergy in order to protect the orphans. It is my belief that reducing the number of situations where she may unconsciously release her mana, even if just by a small number, is a good thing."
Gil has begged me to help, and Fran objected to the idea. For some reason, I turn to Delia, looking for her opinion.
"...If you can help them, then I think you should. But I don't want to have anything to do with it. I don't want to have to remember."
She looks pointedly away, her expression hard.
Gil, hearing no sympathy for his desire to help the orphans, grimaces as if he's been deeply wounded. Clenching his teeth, he looks at me with trembling eyes, then slowly lowers himself down on one knee before me. He crosses both hands before his chest, casting his eyes down.
"Sister Maïne, I'm begging you, please, help those kids."
His heartfelt plea makes my jaw tighten. There is some part of me that thinks that if I can do anything to help them, I should. If someone were to say that they wanted to do something concrete, and that thing were to be something that was reasonable for me to do, then I think I could help with that.
However, if they were to tell me to keep doing it forever, or if they tell me to do something without giving me any suggestions or advice, then I'd be at a loss for what to do.
In my Urano days, I did actually do some work helping with a fundraiser, but that kind of volunteer work was a compulsory part of my education. Outside of that, I had no interest in anything that didn't involve reading books. And now, as Maïne, I'm weak and frail. People are always looking out for me and helping me with my daily life. If there's something that I know that might be helpful, I could suggest it, but fundamentally everything that involves actual action has to be done by someone else. I can't think of anything that I can do myself.
"Right now," says Gil, "I'm really enjoying my work because you keep telling me I'm doing a good job, and I'm happy that if I work really hard, my wages go up. The food here's delicious, and I can eat as much as I want, and I have my own room that's big enough for me to stretch out when I sleep. But, those kids, they..."
"I'm sorry, Gil," I say. "There's nothing much that I can do. I'm a blue-robed priestess that isn't actually a noble, so I can't just ignore what Fran is saying, either."
Gil looks up at me, clearly hurt.
All I am is an ordinary commoner who wanted to trade my mana and money for the right to read more books. I don't know anything about anything right now, so as I am, I can't just freely promise that I'll take care of the orphans, and I really can't take any responsibility to look after them forever.
"But," I continue, "I will at least try to ask the head priest about this. Since there's a surplus of gray-robed priests, then perhaps he could assign some of them to take care of the orphans, or perhaps we could make a little more room in the budget for them, or..." I trail off. "I'll ask him if there might be anything that can be done to improve the situation at the orphanage."
"Thank you," he replies.
The head priest is capable enough to be able to handle the entire temple's daily affairs by himself. If I tell him about the current situation in there, then he should be able to do something about it, whether it's allocating more funding or assigning people to look after the youngest kids. Now that I have a plan to talk with him, I take a breath to calm myself.
Fran frowns at me, his eyebrows knitting together. "Sister Maïne," he says, "there is no need to involve yourself."
"...I'm just going to ask the head priest about it. Might I ask you to arrange a time for me to speak with him, if possible?"
If he refuses my request, then there's nothing I can do. If he has a suggestion, then I could put it into action. But at the very least, what this would do is clear up my worries about whether or not I can actually do anything about this situation.
Fran hesitates, and I ask him again, finally getting him to set a time for me to meet with the head priest.
When the fifth bell rings, and the time arranged for my meeting comes, Fran and I head towards the head priest's office. It seems that Fran had already told the head priest about what I wanted to ask about, because when I arrive, he looks me straight in the eyes and answers me immediately.
"Your request is denied. There is no reason to improve the situation."
"Huh?"
Translator's notes for this chapter:
1. Content advisory: description of cruelty to children through severe privation.
"Seriously! Thanks to you, I’ve been kicked out of the temple master’s rooms! Why would you do that?!"
Delia, burning with rage, storms up the stairs. I don’t know if she ran to get here or what, but her dark crimson hair is in disarray, and her breath comes in ragged pants as she comes to a stop in front of me. These past few days have been so massively busy with getting the kitchen in order that it feels like it’s been a very long time since I last saw her.
"It’s all your fault! You went and got yourself a room, but I didn’t say anything about it, so the Reverend thinks I’m incompetent! Ugh, seriously!"
All I wanted a room for was just to have a place to get changed. I didn’t just take it by myself; the head priest properly gave it to me. I had no idea where Delia had gone off to, and had no way to contact her. I fail to see how the temple master’s impression of Delia’s incompetence is even remotely my fault.
"And what would you like me to do about this?" I ask.
"Let me stay here, of course. I’m your attendant, so it’s only right, isn’t it?"
"Mind your place!" thunders Benno.
Before I even have time to react, he slams his fist down onto Delia’s head. Delia clutches her head, looking around as if she has no idea what's going on.
"Delia," I chide, "that’s not the kind of behavior you should be displaying in front of my guest. It’s only natural that you should be scolded, is it not?"
"W... why would I need you to tell me that?!"
Benno’s eyes narrow. "Still don’t get it, huh?"
Delia instantly shuts her mouth tight. Gil flinches, too, perhaps remembering his earlier beating at Lutz’s hands.
"Maïne," says Benno, "You don’t have any use for someone who doesn’t get the work she’s assigned done to satisfaction. Keeping someone who doesn’t have any motivation on the payroll is a waste of your money. Get rid of her."
The words that Benno disdainfully spits mirror what Lutz had told Gil. It’s obvious to see what kind of effect Benno’s had on him.
"Ah, Fran," I say. "I am not entirely certain of the details behind Delia’s assignment to me, but if she is saying that she was kicked out of the temple master's rooms, does that mean he has cut ties with her?"
My words seem to strike a mark. Delia’s eyes fill with tears as she glares at me, almost on the verge of crying.
"...He hasn’t cut me out yet," she says, her voice cracking.
Fran speaks up. "I would not say that the Reverend has cut ties with her, but..."
"Exactly!" says Delia, latching onto his words. "There’s no way he could get rid of a cute little girl like me, is there?"
Delia’s face shines with renewed hope. Fran’s expression, however, does not change. He continues to speak, laying out the harsh reality.
"Delia did not know that you were given rooms," he explains to me, "and without knowledge of those rooms’ whereabouts could not work for you. As such, she was incapable of delivering necessary information about your activities to him. I do not find it at all mysterious as to why she would bear his displeasure."
"...Huh?"
Delia’s eyes open wide with disbelief, but Fran pays her no attention, looking supremely disinterested as he continues talking. It seems that Fran, an earnest and hardworking person, takes great offense to Delia, who not only fails to do her duty as my attendant, but also actively sought to make trouble for me. His expression may be placid, but I can feel the anger burning beneath it.
"The temple master assigned her to you because of the expectation that you would easily bond with a girl your age, putting her in a situation where she could gather a large amount of valuable information for him. As she has instead displayed such naked hostility to you, causing you to remain highly vigilant around her, I can only imagine how much of a disappointment she may be to him."
"Th... that’s..."
Delia’s face falls. The thought occurs to me that the fact that she got kicked out of the temple master’s rooms only underscores the possibility that she’s getting cut off, but as soon as the thought enters my mind, Delia puts on a fawning smile, looking up at Fran.
"Hey, hey, y’know, I could be a good attendant here. It’s not right for an apprentice priestess to not have any female attendants. Right?"
Her ploy to guarantee her next lodgings did not involve asking me, her master, but instead cunningly went straight to targeting Fran, the most influential of my attendants.
Fran, who typically doesn't show his emotions on his face, glares at her with naked disgust. He snorts coldly.
"As Sister Maïne does not live here, she largely does not require any assistance with her everyday necessities. Despite the fact that you were not here over these past few days, we encountered no problems at all. I would consider that to be proof of how little additional assistance she needs. Furthermore, even if she were to somehow require such assistance, it is entirely possible for her to select a new attendant from the orphanage."
I'd thought that since Delia was assigned to me by the head priest I wouldn't be able to get rid of her, but it seems like I might be able to add someone new to my staff. "What an excellent idea," I say, approvingly, to Fran, which causes Delia to bite her lip, tears starting to drip from her eyes.
"...You're kicking me out?"
When I look at those excessively pretty tears, I can instantly tell that Delia lives solely for the purpose of making men fall for her. Now that she's in a disadvantageous position, she clings sweetly to Fran, showing us her tears. Everything down to the angle at which she's looking up at us is perfect. Even though she's still very young, she knows exactly what kind of weapons women can bring to bear. It's really amazing to see what someone can do when they're fully aware of how cute they are. If I were to have tried to use that kind of technique back in my Urano days, they probably would have said "ugh, creepy," and kicked me away.
Since until now she's been nothing but extremely hostile to me, her suddenly putting on this pitiable air and begging me for help really puts me on the spot. To be honest, I'm really irritated at her right now, but actually kicking out a crying little girl seems too brutish. So, this oppressive atmosphere lingers, leaving me keenly aware of how bad I am at not being able to say anything.
"Don't worry about kicking her out or whatever. She wasn't ever one of us in the first place."
The one to break the moody atmosphere that Delia had so deliberately crafted to engender sympathy in her plight is Gil, who smashes it apart with a grand smile.
"Wh... w, wha?!"
"Someone who doesn't actually work here doesn't get a room, and of course they can't eat here, either. 'He who does not work, neither shall he eat!' Isn't that right, Sister Maïne?"
Gil puffs out his chest, proud at remembering the phrase.1 I'm not sure if he just failed to read the room or if he did and just didn't care, but either way he did a good job. I'd better make sure to praise him lots later. Next to me, Benno mutters, "You're not strong enough to do any work either. You don't get to say that." but I ignore him. Pointedly.
"Since Gil works hard at his job," I say, "he has a room, and he can eat until his belly is full. I have nothing to offer a girl who does not do her work."
"Alright, then. So then I just need to work, then?"
As she says this, she smoothly slides into Benno's lap, smiling sweetly as she draws herself close to him. I blink, dumbfounded, having no idea what in the world is happening right now. Benno looks supremely disgusted, his face twitching as he waves his hands.
"Sorry, but I'm not interested in kids like you. Please get down."
"See?" she says to me, giving me a triumphant grin as she comes down from Benno's lap. "You don't have any gray-robed priestesses around, so you're upsetting your guests."
Seeing first-hand what the gray-robed priestesses that serve as the temple master's attendants are supposed to do makes me want to clutch my head in horror. Benno, probably feeling the same way, rubs at his temples, scowling at Delia disagreeably.
"I don't need any flower to begin with. Please don't lump me in with the nobles who long for the flowers kept here."
"Huh? That's, you mean..."
It seems that, until now, Delia's job has been to take care of the daily necessities of the attendants who've already become the temple master's mistresses while polishing her beauty and her education for the sake of being part of the next generation of mistresses. It also looks like she's supposed to lavish the temple master's visitors with sweet smiles.
"I have no need for such attendants," I say, matter-of-factly.
"I... I can clean and do laundry, too. I helped get the Reverend's clothes ready for him, and I can definitely keep this room clean, too."
She grabs my sleeve tightly in her fist. I think that, faced with the fact that none of the things she's ever done so far apply here at all, her own sense of values might be shaking. She isn't smiling flirtatiously. Her eyes aren't full of tears. Her face is frozen in a look of bewilderment as she starts looking desperately around the room. However, there's nobody in this room who has any desire to save cute little Dalia from her plight.
It's probably true that Delia is in real trouble now that she's been kicked out of the temple master's rooms, I think. I look up at Fran, hoping for some assistance in figuring out what to do.
"Perhaps a night spent in the reflection room would be sufficient?" he says. "She has, in fact, showed great disrespect to you."
"I'll reflect on my actions! I'm going to do everything just right from now on. So... please don't kick me out. Please don't say you don't need me!"
Delia looks desperately up at me as she pleads, whimpering like she can barely contain herself from bursting into tears. Her shockingly serious plea makes my eyes widen, and both Fran and Gil are making pained faces, as if they themselves had been told that they weren't needed.
Gil was a problem child who spent nearly every day in the reflection room, and when Fran was sent away from the head priest's side, he was left feeling wounded, like he was no longer necessary. The two of them are probably remembering how they felt back then.
"Fran," I say. "If Delia performs her duties in earnest, then I believe everything shall be fine."
"As you wish, Sister."
After giving the tiniest sigh of relief, Fran turns to Delia, his expression growing stern.
"If you wish to work here, then first, correct your manner of speech. I have no use for an attendant who does not think of Sister Maïne as her master."
"Understood," she replies.
And so, with her declaration that she will start working, we wrap up this predicament without me having to banish a crying little girl from my room. Composing myself, I turn to ask her a question.
"Now then, what kinds of work can you do?"
"I can put this room in order as befitting a blue-robed priestess such as yourself. Starting with this!"
She points dramatically at a room that I'd assumed was the storage room for the second floor. It seems that in actuality it's supposed to be a bathroom, with a tub and a toilet. There's nothing in there now, so I hadn't realized it at all.
"You've had plenty of time over the last few days; why is it that you haven't acquired any equipment? Leaving the bathtub aside, what have you been doing when you need to use the restroom?"
"Huh? There's one downstairs, so I use those, and then I clean up after myself..."
"What?! I don't believe it! Seriously! You go to the first floor? You use the attendants' toilet? And worse, you say that you use the mens' restroom? Have you no shame!"
Even though she's being a bit more polite in speech, I feel like her attitude hasn't changed all that much. Is it just my imagination?
Delia goes through the room, identifying item after item that this room is missing. Not only do I not have a bathtub and a toilet, but I'm also missing a dresser as well as a writing desk. Apparently, using the same round table in the center of the room for both eating and writing makes me a failure of a blue-robed priestess. Even though I try to tell her that I'm not planning on taking any baths here, she insists that I someday might, and that I should make sure for my own sake that I can do so on the second floor.
"Can you help me get these, Mister Benno?" I ask.
"Leave it to me. ...If you were missing all of this, then it looks like having an attendant that knows about how priestesses live might actually be necessary. Besides, if you keep making her mad like that, maybe you'll be able to become a bit more noble yourself, huh?"
"Ngh..."
Next, Delia starts carrying water up to fill the jug on the second floor. It seems that if nobody brings any water upstairs, then washing one's face and hands is difficult, as is cleaning up after using the restroom. I'd been thinking she was the frail princess type, but since she's apparently been working zealously to make sure she could be a mistress, she's got more than enough arm strength, stamina, and sheer grit to carry water.
"Nobody even bothered getting any water to the second floor. Seriously!"
Delia keeps up a bitter monologue as she works, complaining about everything around her. After Fran makes sure that she's actually started working, he returns to the kitchens, and Gil starts working on cleaning the first floor. I, meanwhile, reach for the dessert that's been sitting untouched on the table. As I chew, I strike up a conversation with Benno.
"Come to think of it, the other day, the head priest ordered me to have a set of ceremonial robes made, but what's special about ceremonial robes?"
"They're meant to catch the attention of people outside the temple. Essentially, you should think of them as your nicest clothes. So, if we were to just think about appearances, they are totally different from what you might usually wind up wearing. The embroidery on the hems has your family crest sewn into it, and..."
He freezes halfway through his sentence, looking straight at me in shock.
"Maïne. When's the ceremony you need this for? I have no idea how long it's going to take to make something suitable for noble ceremonies."
From the way the politeness immediately drops from his tone, I can tell just how hurried he is. There are, of course, no sewing machines here, so there's no way you can just throw together a garment. It seems they take a lot of time to make.
"He said that since I'm an apprentice I don't need to go to a lot of them, but I don't know when or what kind of ceremonies they're going to be. Fran would probably know, right?" I turn to the stairwell. "Hey, Frmmph?!"
As soon as I start calling out for Fran, Benno covers my mouth, pointing sternly at the bell. Ah, that's right. You use a bell to call people. I ring the bell, and moments later Fran comes upstairs.
"How may I be of service, Sister?"
"I was recently informed by the head priest that I must have ceremonial robes tailor-made for me, yet I do not know when those ceremonies may take place. Would you happen to know, perhaps?"
"If the order of knights requests for one this fall, then I believe that would be the closest one to today."
"Fall, huh..." says Benno. "Making something from scratch by then is going to be rough..."
If we're making fancy clothes befitting a noble, then it's obvious that everything must be carefully considered, starting from the thread used. Fran, seeing Benno's scowl, glances over at the wooden box along the far wall.
"Master Benno," he says, "might I suggest that you use the fabric that you gave Sister Maïne to make her ceremonial robes? It is of very excellent quality, so once dyed I believe it would be more than suitable for the purpose."
"...She doesn't have a family crest. What do we do about that?"
"Does her workshop have a something similar to a crest?"
"I'll make one right now!" I say.
As Benno takes my measurements, discussing the requirements for the design of my ceremonial robes, I gleefully start thinking up ideas for my workshop's crest. My first idea is a book, a pen, and ink, but Fran and Benno both reject it, saying that it's too plain, and help me correct it. Ultimately, we wind up with a design incorporating the trees used in making paper and the flowers from the hairpins, a crest designed to leave a strong impression. Fran, nodding in satisfaction, says that it is an enormous success at conveying the gorgeousness befitting a woman, and so it's decided.
"Sister Maïne, the cooks say that they have finished preparing our dinner for today."
"Is that so? Well then, could you please ensure that they have properly tidied up the kitchen once they are finished, perhaps?"
At my direction, Fran checks over the kitchen and confirms the plans for tomorrow with the cooks before seeing them off.
"I shall head home for today," I say. "You two, please get changed."
Gil and Fran each hurry off to their individual rooms. Since Lutz and Benno have business coming up soon that they need to go to another part of town for, right now it's a good time for my attendants to practice dropping me off at home.
I start taking off my blue robes, getting myself ready to go home. When I start untying the sash, though, Delia stands in front of me in an imposing stance, her face twisted in anger.
"What might you be doing?" she says.
"Getting changed, as you can see?"
Ah, I remember, I'm not supposed to get changed by myself. I let go of my sash and raise my arms, ready for Delia to help me to get changed. As I wait, though, her eyes only narrow more.
"In front of a gentleman?!" she yells, glancing over at Benno, who's still seated at the table. "How immodest!"
I'm already wearing clothes underneath this, so I didn't think that this would be anything to get so angry about.
I lean back away from her. "I'm... I'm sorry? But, I'm just taking off the robes..."
"Taking off your own clothing before a gentleman is something you only do when you want to tempt them! Letting others see you only lessens your worth as a woman. If you don't know things like that, you're going to be in major trouble in the future. Seriously!"
"Is... is that so..."
What do I do now? I think she might be angry about the wrong thing, here, but she's being so serious that I don't think I can actually point it out.
"Master Benno," says Delia, "please wait in the hall. Although she may still be very young, please refrain from watching a girl change."
"Sure, I'll do that."
Benno, trying hard to suppress a laugh, makes his way downstairs. After verifying that he has made it all the way to the first floor, Delia unties my sash, then takes off my robe. As expected of someone who says they've been taking after the daily needs of the other gray-robed priestesses, she quickly folds up the robes and puts them away, then fixes my hairpin, which had come slightly loose.
When she pokes her head downstairs, Fran calls up to her that they've finished getting ready to leave. At the same time, as she looks downstairs, her face suddenly freezes.
"What... are you wearing...?"
"A reward from Sister Maïne," says Gil. Even just from the sound of his boastful voice, I can imagine just how puffed out his chest must be.
"That's mean! That's not equal!"
"This is a reward for doing work," he says. "People who don't do work don't get given anything, you know."
"What work do you do?"
"Cleaning," he replies. "I worked really hard all by myself to clean this place out, so this is my reward. Heh heh, it's nice, isn't it?"
"I'm not actually jealous or anything!"
Delia cuts off the exchange with that sharp remark, tears in her eyes, looking like she's nothing but jealous and regretful. She glares at me, pointing downstairs.
"Everyone's waiting for you down there. Shouldn't you be going?"
"I already have something ready for you, though..."
"Huh?"
Delia's eyes fly open wide enough that I think her eyeballs might fall out.
"You don't want it?"
"I didn't say a single word of the sort."
I pull the last remaining bundle of cloth from inside the closet and hand it to Delia. She hesitantly reaches out, as if to touch it, then glances up at me.
"...I can really have this?"
"You're going to work hard at your job from now on, aren't you?"
"I have no idea what you might do wrong if I'm not around, so I guess I have no choice, do I?"
Delia huffs, looking away, her face bright red. She roughly grabs the bundle from me and, clutching it to her chest, runs off to the attendant's room.
"Hey, are you done yet?" calls Gil impatiently from downstairs.
"Delia's getting changed right now, so please wait a little longer," I reply.
I look over at the door to Delia's room. She's taking far longer than I would have thought for just getting changed. It's been a while, and she hasn't come out.
"Delia, are you still changing?"
I crack open the door and see Delia, already done changing, humming something to herself with a huge smile on her face as she twirls around. The instant our eyes meet, she stops, clutching her skirt and trembling visibly. Her entire face, up to her ears, turns bright red, and she glares fiercely at me.
"D... don't just open my door like that! Seriously!"
Translator's notes for this chapter:
1. "He who does not work, neither shall he eat" is an aphorism originally from the New Testament. From context, he presumably learned this from Maïne, but not on-screen. (Otherwise, I have no idea why he would be quoting the New Testament.)
I’m in Japan this week! I’ll be missing two chapters due to the fact that all of my translation time is being taken up by drinking lots of alcohol and playing irresponsible amounts of jubeat.
The kitchen was cleaned thoroughly over the course of several days so that it was usable for handling food. While that happened, I had cooking utensils and tableware delivered and had firewood and raw ingredients brought, bit by bit, into the cellar. Also, through Benno, I managed to arrange for cooks to come to my kitchen to work.
Starting from the day I saw the kitchen, I started work at home to cultivate natural yeast. If I'm going to have professional cooks baking for me, then I want to eat fluffy bread.
With Benno's guidance, I went to a store that deals in glassware and bought a container that I could put a lid on, thinking that I could make natural yeast from lutebelles, which are currently in season.
I first sterilized the bottle by boiling it. Then, I washed and roughly cut up several lutebelles, put them in the bottle along with some water and sugar, and sealed them in. Over the next few days, I shook the bottle thoroughly once a day, opening the lid briefly to let outside air in, waiting for the day when I could use it as liquid yeast.
It took about five days to finally finish fermenting, but now that I've filtered it out, I'm left with a liquid that's full of usable yeast. If I mix this together with whole-wheat flour and water and let it rest, I should be able to make a bread starter.
It seems like fluffy bread is rare even in noble houses. At the guild master's house, I had some bread made solely of white flour, but even that wasn't as soft and fluffy as the bread I've been craving. If I properly ferment natural yeasts and can use them to make a truly fluffy bread, I think it'll have a strong appeal. On top of that, if I can keep control of the knowledge of how to ferment natural yeasts and make bread starters, then bread will be the one thing that will be my restaurant's forte, that few people will be able to quickly copy.
Whether or not this will actually go according to plan is another matter, though.
As soon as I let Benno know that the bread starter is finished, he immediately mobilizes the cooks and brings them to my rooms at the temple. He brings two people: a young man, not even twenty years old, and a young girl in her early teens who is clearly his apprentice. If these two can learn the recipes to a reasonable degree, then we'll be able to bring more people in.
"Hugo," says Benno, very politely, "here you will be able to learn recipes used by the nobility. Please do your best to learn them well. ...Madam Maïne, allow me to introduce to you Hugo, a cook from my establishment, and his assistant and apprentice, Ella."
As Benno just introduced his cooks to me, I really would like to introduce myself to them in return, but instead I stay silent, nodding once, and let Fran reply for me. After all, I am a blue-robed priestess, so I need to behave like a noble.
"Hugo and Ella, is it?" he replies. "Now then, I shall lead you to the kitchen immediately."
I've been told that even instructing the cooks should be left to Fran, so he will be reading cooking directions off of wooden boards that I've written recipes on. Gil can't read yet, so I have to entirely entrust Fran with dealing with the cooks.
"The first thing that you must learn is hygienic discipline. Your cookware and utensils must be kept clean and sanitary. This kitchen must be kept in the polished condition that it is now. Before coming here, you must ensure your bodies are clean and your clothes are washed; if you arrive dirty in figure or dress, you will not be allowed into the kitchen. Do you understand thus far?"
"Y... yes!"
If we can beat proper hygienic practices into their heads here, then when they're told to do the same things in the Italian restaurant, they won't put up much resistance there.
In the Italian restaurant I'm making, we won't be serving food on hard slices of bread. We won't be dropping unwanted food on the ground, and we won't have a dog running around to eat it up. I've heard that that's unfortunately just the culture around here, but in a high-class restaurant where food fit for the nobility is served, I have no use for such a culture.
What I really want to get these two started on is consommé, but Benno said that he wanted them to be able to finish making something for him to eat in time for lunch, so I'm going to leave making consommé, which takes a considerably long time, for tomorrow. Today, in order to use the oven for the first time, I want to start by making pizza. Or, more accurately, I want to eat pizza.
"Now then," says Fran, "today we will be making pizza. To begin, please light the oven."
"Yes, sir."
At Fran's direction, the two cooks retrieve firewood from the cellar and fire up the oven. Since a wood-fired oven takes a fairly long time to heat up, starting the fire has to be the first step. Lighting the oven here isn't much different than anywhere else, so the two of them are able to get it going quickly.
"Before handling the ingredients, please wash your hands."
As Benno and I, seated at the table in the room used for servants, look on, they start working on making the dough for the pizza. Since Fran and I had already gotten all of the ingredients ready and set them out on the counter, it feels like I'm watching a cooking show. Into a bowl of flour, they mix in some of the natural yeast that I'd brought, then some salt, then some sugar, and finally some lukewarm water, before kneading it thoroughly and setting it aside to rise.
Hugo looks up, letting out a heavy sigh. "This takes just as much work as making bread," he says.
"It would not be unwise to consider this to be essentially the same sort of thing. Now, after kneading, you must leave it alone for some time to let the dough ferment. In the meantime, we shall make pommé sauce, then chop the ingredients for the pizza and the soup."
They blanch and peel the yellow pommé fruits that we are using in place of tomatoes, cut them down to size, set them to simmer over a low flame, and then start to chop up the vegetables.
"Mister Hugo," says Ella, "I'll handle prepping the liga."
"Please do," he replies.
She skillfully wields the large kitchen knife, one that I still can't even hold, and quickly prepares the small white radishes with the garlicky smell. Hugo, as instructed, chops up some bacon, some onion-like lanierres, some carrot-like mellens, and a variety of different kinds of mushrooms. His knife technique is just as fast and precise as you'd expect out of a professional chef. I let out a sigh of admiration.
"Master Benno," I say, "these cooks are even more excellent than I had expected."
The instant I speak, Hugo and Ella turn to look at me, startled. I'd been trying to praise them, but when I see how stiff and frozen they've become, I realize that saying anything had been a mistake.
"Your praise is most gracious, Madam Maïne," says Benno. "...You two, she thinks well of you."
Benno's follow-through thaws the frozen atmosphere. Hugo and Ella both look visibly relieved, and after telling me how gracious my praise is, they return to their chopping, a serious look in their eyes. Benno glares slightly at me, making a gesture to indicate that I should shut my mouth. I nod emphatically.
I'm really sorry. I had no idea that words of praise would cause that kind of reaction.
After they finish chopping the vegetables, Hugo starts preparing the chicken meat next, slicing breast meat into thin strips and soaking them in oil. Ella works on readying some herbs that would taste good with the meat.
"Next, we will be making soup," says Fran.
The recipe I've written down is for a salty vegetable soup that's boiled together with slices of sausage to bring out a rich savoriness. I want to know if thoroughly boiling the vegetables will actually bring out all of their umami.
"Please boil the soup like so. We will not be discarding the broth."
"You want us to leave it like that?"
The two cooks look at Fran with dubious expressions on their faces. Despite that, even though they look bothered by it, they still can't go against the instructions of a noble, so they continue cooking with sour expressions on their faces. My mother made the same face as I watched her try my kind of soup-making.
"Ella, please skim the lye from the soup. Hugo, the pommé sauce has boiled down, so please thoroughly mix that liga and some of that oil into it. That will finish up the sauce. Ah, and it seems that this is excellent timing for the dough."
Hugo, given direction after direction, punches down the dough to let out the gas, divides it in half, and starts to stretch it out.
"After spreading the dough into a circle, coat it with pommé sauce, then top it with these ingredients."
As Fran requests, Hugo spreads pommé sauce over the surface of the dough, then tops it with bacon, onions, and mushrooms. On the other piece of the dough, he spreads the sauce, then adds chicken breast, onions, and herbs. Then, he sprinkles a generous amount of cheese over both pizzas, and puts them in the oven.
I notice that Ella has been staring at Hugo as he works, watching with great interest. She's wearing the same expression as Tuuli when she's talking with Corinna about sewing and as Ilse when she's looking at a new recipe. When I see how closely she's watching, full of an aspiration to better her skills, I can't help but cheer her on in my mind.
Since we have some time, I want them to make mayonnaise and use that, since we can't make potato salad, to make kalfe salad, but since this is the first time they've been in this kitchen and are making food they've never made before while a noble is watching them, they're obviously very stressed, so I don't have any choice but to cut that short. I stealthily signal to Fran to cut back on the number of dishes, and he nods slightly at me.
"As the soup has now been thoroughly boiled, please test its flavor in order to adjust its saltiness."
Hugo spoons a small amount of soup into a small dish, then timidly raises it to his mouth. As soon as he takes a sip, he freezes, his eyes flying open wide. It takes him a while to swallow, as if he spent extra time letting the flavors roll around his tongue.
"...What is this?" he murmurs, sampling it again.
And again. As soon as I realize that there's not going to be much soup left if he keeps sampling so enthusiastically, Ella slaps Hugo smartly on the back.
"Mister Hugo, you're eating too much! How's the seasoning?"
"Huh?! ...Ah, right."
Hugo frowns sharply, looking between his tasting dish and the pot. I'm guessing that this is the first time tasting anything like this. Figuring out what to add to that flavor must be very difficult.
"Just a little bit. Just the tiniest bit of salt will do."
Trembling with stress, he hesitantly adds a single pinch of salt, stirs it in, then takes another sip.
"Perfect," he says.
"Let me try too, please," says Ella.
When I see her pick up another small dish, looking like a dog that's waiting for her dinner, I have to fight back a giggle. If I start cracking up now, I'm going to ruin the mood again.
Hugo spoons a little soup into her dish, and she drinks a mouthful of it. Her face immediately lights up brilliantly.
"Whoa?! What's this?! This is really good! That's the vegetables I'm tasting, right? It's got some sweetness to it, and the taste of the sausage has disappeared into the rest of the soup... I can't believe you can make a soup this good with so little salt!"
"Calm down, Ella!"
Hugo tries to restrain Ella as she, speaking very quickly, excitedly describes how delicious the soup is. He glances briefly at me, then back to her, trying to convey a warning with his eyes, but it does not reach Ella at all through her excitement at discovering a new flavor.
"I can't calm down! This is a huge discovery, isn't it?!"
"Please, I'm begging you, calm down. You're before nobility."
"...Ah..."
All the blood drains from Ella's face as she looks at me. I didn't even say anything this time, but everything's frozen up again. I really just want to say that it's okay to be so excited, and that she should keep trying hard, but what exactly would a noble say at a time like this?
Fran comes near, and I whisper to him. "Could you please tell them that I'm thankful to have cooks with such enthusiasm for their job, and that I'm looking forward to what they'll be cooking for me?"
He nods. "Understood. Sister Maïne, Master Benno, your meal is nearly ready. If I may, I would like to ask you to please be seated at the table in the other room."
Fran motions towards the door. As he does so, Gil, who has been standing there, quickly opens it for us. I get down from my chair, trying not to mope over how I'm being kicked out of the kitchen before everything's done, and Benno reaches out as if to provide me an escort.
Since Fran is giving directions, he can't leave the kitchen, so Gil is the one to show us to my room. He closes the kitchen door behind us, following closely behind me. I try not to smile when I see the triumphant expression he's wearing, as if he's trying to say "look at me, I'm doing my job."
Just like I had asked, the table in my room has been set with a vase full of flowers, place mats, and cutlery, as well as a pitcher of juice to quench our thirst. All of this was put together by Gil while the rest of us were busy in the kitchen, observing the cooks as they worked.
"Thank you, Gil," I say.
Grinning, he gets down on one knee. Over the past few days, we've developed something of an unspoken agreement that, when it's time for praise, he takes this stance. "You did a great job," I say, patting his head. "Thanks for your hard work." He smiles widely back at me.
Yesterday, he used rinsham on his hair so he could look presentable for the cooks that were coming in from outside the temple today, so his hair is silky smooth. It really does feel good to the touch.
I reach the table, take a drink, and let out a tired sigh. As a powerful awareness of my own heritage sets in, I slump my shoulders exhaustedly.
"Being a rich girl is exhausting. I want to talk with them! I just really want to help them cook..."
"Give it up," says Benno. "To those two, they're in a noble kitchen, cooking noble food, in an environment full of nobles. Everything they're doing is to study. And while they're here to practice cooking, you're here to practice how to carry yourself like a noble. Don't let your guard down when you're in the temple, idiot."
"Urgh... I'll do my best."
I take a deep breath, straightening up in my chair. At about the time I put some energy back into my rich girl act, I hear the kitchen door open from downstairs. As Fran brings our food upstairs, Gil quickly moves to stand by the wall.
"Fran," I say, "for dessert, I believe I would like a lutebelle."
"Of course, Sister," he replies.
The sugar in the kitchen here is sugar that I had to bring from my own stash at home. Benno hasn't managed to acquire any yet. Until he manages to secure a route through which he can get a supply, our pastry is being held back. Unlike during the winter, right now fruits are sufficiently delicious to serve as dessert, but I very much hope that we can procure sugar by the time the restaurant is ready.
Fran sets the two types of pizza and bowls of soup down on the table. The pizza looks like it may have been baked for just a little too long. There are a few burn marks on the crust, and the steam gently rising off of each pizza carries with it the faint smell of burnt cheese. The faint sound of the bacon still crackling reaches my ears, and I can see the oil glistening on the surface of the chicken. Both of the pizzas look like they'd be delicious. The smell of the cheese is enrapturing. Benno, sitting across from me, looks with great anticipation at the pizzas, his eyes glimmering.
"To the supreme gods who rule over all in the high, lofty skies, to the great gods who rule over all in the wide, vast earth, to all the gods who grant sustenance to the thousands upon tens of thousands of lives of creation, we offer this heartfelt prayer of thanks for this meal."
I recite the blessing that I've spent the past few days memorizing, then just Benno and I begin to eat. The other two people in the room can't eat until they are granted food as the gods' blessings. Even though I want to eat with them, and even if the concept of granting someone food isn't really something I'm comfortable with, this is what it means to be a blue-robed priestess, and I can't work against that.
With Fran by my side, serving as my waiter, I eat my soup. The savoriness of the meat and the sweetness of the vegetables are tied together by a faint saltiness to form a gentle flavor that matches the soup I make at home. I'd personally prefer if it were a little bit saltier, but that's something I can hope for next time.
"...This is pretty tasty," says Benno.
"The flavor of the vegetables has truly been highlighted, has it not?" I say. "Even Ilse expressed much curiosity about this."
"Hmm? Is it truly so rare a thing?"
When I obliquely hint that this soup isn't something found in noble recipes, he responds like he understands, staring fixedly at the soup.
"This is pizza. Please think of it as something like a bread."
I pick up a slice of pizza, using a fork to cut off the thick, goopy strands of cheese that come along with it, and then try a bite. Benno matches me, taking a slice of the bacon pizza, and has a bite as well.
"Does it suit your tastes?" I ask.
"...This tastes even better than what I was expecting."
I take another slice for myself, and Benno slides two onto his plate. Then, I look up at Fran.
"Fran, I give you the gods' blessings. Please, take your leave until it is time for dessert."
"I am truly thankful," he says.
If I say things like that, then the cooks and my attendants will be able to eat while it's still warm. Fran and Gil pick up the leftover food, heading downstairs, and after a moment I hear the sound of a door closing. A moment later, Ella squeals in delight, her voice echoing up the stairs. It seems like they started sampling everything right away. I can hear the faint sound of a fun, lively conversation happening downstairs.
While the others are busy being enthusiastic about their cooking, now is the perfect time for a private conversation.
"Mister Benno," I say around a mouthful of pizza, "do you think this pizza and this soup will sell?"
Benno nods, swallowing. "It will. This is the first time I'm having it, but it's delicious. ...I feel like this pizza is more tender than the bread I ate when I dined with nobles, though."
"It's thanks to my wonderful little yeasts," I reply.
"What do you mean by that?"
"It's something that means that other shops can't get ahead of us on this. ...Like, even if the cooks that we've trained get hired away by someone else, this is a secret that will make sure we're still on top of the market."
This Italian restaurant is going to be something I'm going to be able to get some money out of. If it isn't profitable, then I'm going to be in some trouble.
"Since the soup only really brings out the flavor of the vegetables, if someone really wanted to copy it, I think it wouldn't be hard for them to do so. Once they start copying us, then we're going to fight by having a variety of different flavors of soup."
"Huh... We don't have many cooks, though. How's that going to work?"
"If we offer courses whose flavors match the season, then even if we don't have very many cooks, I think we should still be okay."
When I answer, Benno groans, scratching roughly at his head.
"...Man, I feel like an idiot for worrying about things all by myself. Using you to solve some of my mountain of problems would really clear things up."
"What problems are you having?"
"Let's not talk about it here. Stop by my shop."
The two of us finish eating, and I ring the bell that's been left on the table for us. Shortly thereafter, Fran and Gil come up the stairs bearing our desserts. They tidy up our used tableware, then set our dessert plates in front of us.
"Fran," I say, "did you find the taste to be satisfactory?"
Out of all of us, the person who understands noble cuisine the most is Fran. All I'm doing is making the food that I want to eat, so it's still going to be different from actual noble cooking.
"...It was very delicious," he replies. "It was not traditional cuisine, but I believe that the flavor is such that any noble who has an interest in novel foods would find it appealing."
"I see," I reply, nodding.
"The cooks have taken a profound interest in this as well, and have expressed a burning desire to try again after reviewing what they have made so far, so I believe that they will continue to work hard from tomorrow on."
I'm very happy to hear that everything is coming along nicely. On the other hand, though, I suddenly feel like I've forgotten something important.
"Does something seem to be the matter, Sister Maïne?" asks Fran.
"...I think that there may be something that I am forgetting about. Fran, might you have any ideas?"
"Something... you're forgetting about?"
"Yes, something about the temple. I can't quite put my finger on it..."
As Benno eats his dessert, and Fran and I contemplate, a huge crash sounds from downstairs as the front door is flung violently open.
Lutz, looking extremely excited, starts exploring the rooms of the director's office. The second floor contains the master's room, a room for the director's handmaid, and a storage room.
Gil doesn't want us to look at the rooms on the first floor, since they haven't yet been cleaned, but, to his dislike, we do so anyway. The door immediately to the right of the entrance leads to four rooms for attendants, as well as another storage area. The door on the left side of the hall connects to a kitchen, large enough that several cooks could work in it simultaneously, as well as a door to an underground cellar.
"Once this is cleaned, we could certainly use this to serve tea for any visitors who come calling," says Fran, sounding quite satisfied. "We should procure a tea set."
My eyes, though, have fixed on something completely different. The kitchen contains an oven, as well as many things like what the guild master has in his kitchen.
"Ah, that's an oven, isn't it?" I remark.
"It is ordinary for a kitchen to have an oven, is it not?" replies Fran, tilting his head.
All of the kitchens in the temple are for blue-robed noble priests, so it's obvious that they'd all contain ovens, but for me and Lutz, they're something rare that we've been actively searching for.
"Lutz! I found an oven! We need to tell Mister Benno about this!"
"Yeah!"
Lutz has been working alongside Benno and Mark to help open the Italian restaurant, so his eyes sparkle brilliantly as he spins around, taking in the noble kitchen.
"Now, Fran. Once this has been cleaned, would I be permitted to bring in cooks, perhaps?"
"Of course, Sister Maïne. It is perfectly ordinary for a blue-robed apprentice priestess to bring in cooks and other such subordinates."
A plan starts forming in my head. I could train cooks here, and the food could then be given to my attendants and to the orphans.
Fran tilts his head, again. "Sister Maïne, as you did not bring any cooks with you today, how might you be planning to have lunch?"
Since the system here at the temple is one where the blue-robed clergy's cooks prepare their meals for them, with the remainder being granted to the lower ranks, it's impossible for me to have lunch without any cooks of my own.
"Let us have lunch outside. You two, please get changed."
"Changed?"
I head back up to the second floor, then pull the cloth-wrapped packages out of Lutz's basket. I set them on the table, pushing them towards Gil and Fran.
"These are not the blessings of the gods. These are rewards that I've prepared for the two of you as thanks for your hard work. You don't have to share these with anyone."
"I am deeply grateful, Sister Maïne," says Fran.
"Huh? What? It's okay if I...?" says Gil.
The two of them, their expressions flickering between confusion, joy, and hope, carefully unwrap their bundles. They remind me of children that have received their first ever present... and, in the next moment, I realize that this might actually be true. In the orphanage, where all is shared equally amongst everyone, the concept of giving presents probably doesn't exist.
Even though my family is poor, I've still gotten presents from my parents at major life landmarks, like the first time they let me go to the forest and at my baptismal ceremony. Fran, Gil, and the other orphans wouldn't have gotten any of those.
"...So, these are... clothes, right?" says Gil.
"Correct," I reply. "Go get changed, and we'll go outside the temple."
"Really?! I've always wanted to go outside. I'm going to go get changed right now!"
The smile on his face as he hugs his new clothes to his chest is the most brilliant I've seen on him so far. He bounds out of the room with long strides, flying down the steps. It makes me happy to see how overjoyed he is that I got him those clothes. I look over at Fran, who has yet to say a word.
Fran stands there quietly, looking down at the clothing spread out on the table as if transfixed by something dazzlingly brilliant, idly tracing a finger along the embroidery on the hems. When I see how he's trying to bite down on his happiness, I have to hold back an awkward laugh.
"Fran, would you please try those on?"
"Ah?!" He startles, suddenly realizing he's being watched, and turns bright red in embarrassment. "Of... of course."
He hurries down the stairs. Seeing the usually cool and composed Fran so flustered makes me and Lutz giggle a bit.
"They were really happy to get those," says Lutz.
"Yeah!"
He takes a quick look down the stairs, then lowers his voice.
"...But, did Gil just say he'd always wanted to go outside? ...This place is strange, isn't it?"
"It really is. But I'm sure that to the people living here, we're the strange ones."
In preparation to go outside, I pull off my blue robes, fold them up, and set them in the closet. I think about how I should get a hanger so that they don't get any weird wrinkles, and decide to ask Benno to have one made for me. Then, I take out enough money from my donation funds to cover today's activities.
I leave the temple, my attendants following behind. Both of them hesitate for a moment as they pass through the gates.
"Fran, stop worrying so much about that, it'll be fine, alright?"
Fran hasn't ever worn anything but what gray-robed priests wear, so he's constantly very conscious about the cuffs and hems of his clothes, but the calm color of his clothes, like black tea, suits his general ambiance. Gil, meanwhile, looks perfect in his green clothes, the color of spring leaves, as he energetically runs around.
"Whoaaa, I'm outside! Just this is enough to make me happy to be your attendant!"
"Then," says Fran, "you should work earnestly for her, and also be more polite in your speech. You wouldn't want to cause her embarrassment."
"...Right, I'll get to that."
Gil races around the area excitedly, looking restlessly around at everything that catches his interest. There’s no way that I, who can’t walk any faster than a leisurely stroll, could match his speed. So, Lutz tries his best to keep Gil from running off on his own, and Fran carries me in his arms.
"It’s a very strange feeling," says Fran, "walking around on our own outside the temple."
"...This is the world I live in," I reply. "Fran, you too, when you're outside, could you also change your speech a bit, too? If you're too polite, you'll stand out too much."
"Changing one's... changing my speech pattern is surprisingly difficult."
Lutz guides us to a restaurant near the central plaza. It's a comparatively high-class place, he tells us, frequently used by merchants. It's an unusual sort of restaurant, where there aren't any large tables, but only small tables where a few people can sit. I can see a few groups of customers in the midst of business negotiations.
Lutz, who has been here before, gives us a few recommendations, and we quickly get an order placed. A platter of boiled sausage and cheese is delivered to our table, and a basket of thinly sliced bread follows shortly after. Then, individual bowls of vegetable soup are placed in front of each of us.
"Time to eat!" say Lutz and I, reaching for the bread.
"What? That's it?" Gil objects.
Lutz and I freeze, looking at each other, our hands halfway to the bread basket.
"Were we supposed to do something else?"
"You didn't say the blessing, right? To the supreme gods who rule over all in the high, lofty skies, to the great gods who rule over all in the wide, vast earth, to all the gods who grant sustenance to the thousands upon tens of thousands of lives of creation, we offer this heartfelt prayer of thanks for this meal."
From how he is so smoothly reciting every phrase of this prayer, his hands crossed before his chest, I can see that this is something that everyone at the temple is expected to say before each meal.
"...Didn't know that one at all," says Lutz. "First time I've heard it."
"That's something I definitely need to learn," I say.
I ask Gil and Fran to teach me as I try to work my way through reciting the blessing. I can tell I'm not going to memorize this immediately. It's just not possible if I can't jot it down in a notebook.
Lutz and I pull ourselves back together and start eating, but Fran and Gil aren't moving a muscle. They're just sitting in front of their food, watching silently.
Thinking this strange, I speak up. "Huh? Aren't you going to eat? Are you... not hungry?"
Fran shakes his head. "...As we are your attendants, we cannot eat until you are finished with your meal."
"If you don't eat with us, it'll get cold, though...?"
Gil looks like he wants to dig in, but he looks over at Fran, sitting next to him, and holds himself back. His restless fidgeting somehow reminds me of one of those toys that move in response to sound.
"Alright, then, this is an order. Eat while it's still hot and fresh."
Fran, seemingly unable to refuse an order he's been given, reluctantly takes a slice of bread. In the next instant, Gil gleefully reaches out to take some food.
Fran eats with a level of politeness I've never seen around here before. Even Gil, who was raised by the orphanage, eats in a manner that I'd have to call polite. Compared to them, Lutz, who constantly fights with his brothers at the dinner table, is just greedily chowing down. Is this what happens when everything is divided equally amongst everyone, with no need to fight for anything?
"You two eat so politely," I say. "Were you taught that?"
"Nothing that a blue-robed priest would consider unsightly is allowed to leave the orphanage," says Fran, "so our elders teach us both table manners as well as how to walk properly."
"Yeah, that's right," says Gil. "I really hate purifying myself before I can leave the orphanage. It's fine for now, but I'm totally going to die in winter."
"An attendant must be able to take a bath, after all," adds Fran.
What a terrifyingly strict environment, if they insist that unsightly things cannot leave the orphanage. But, thanks to that, even Gil is actually pretty polite.
As we eat, they keep talking about the differences between living at the orphanage and being an attendant, but at some point I notice some subtle movement in Fran's eyebrows. Even though Fran is usually only given leftovers, he's still used to eating noble food, so it seems like he might be dissatisfied with the taste of the food here. His eyebrows are just a little bit furrowed as he eats.
"Fran, is this that different from what you normally eat?"
I tap my own eyebrow with a fingertip, smiling a little at him. Fran immediately smooths out his expression, then smiles embarrassedly.
"It is. It's very different. ...The warm soup, though, I think is delicious."
The food he got from his masters was probably delicious, but since it's all leftovers, this might be the first time he's eating something hot.
"As long as I can fill myself up, I don't care what it tastes like," says Gil. "Since there aren't as many blue-robed priests as before, there's waaay less of the gods' blessings, and there's been a lot of gray-robed priests that have come back to the orphanage, too."
It looks like Gil's satisfied with how much he's eaten, but compared to Lutz, who's the same age as him, he's eaten a whole lot less. It's possible that his stomach just hasn't had to grow, since he usually doesn't get to eat that much.
"Then, how about we go buy dinner for you two on the way back, and also bring back some presents for the orphanage? Since I'm going home this afternoon, dinner's going to be a problem for you, right?"
"Really?! Woohoo! We pray to the gods!"
Gil, overflowing with gratitude at being able to fill his belly after so long, leaps up from his chair with a clatter, and then, right in the middle of the restaurant, assumes the Gl█co pose. The restaurant, which had been buzzing with the sound of eating and negotiation, falls dead silent, and every single person there turns to look at our table.
"H... hang on!" says Lutz. "Stop praying here!"
Lutz frantically escorts Gil out of the shop. I settle the bill, leaving an extra tip on top to apologize to the shopkeeper for the disturbance, and flee the scene.
"Keep your prayers in the temple," I say, sighing heavily. "Got it? Just like how Lutz and I don't know a lot of things that are common knowledge in the temple, there's a lot of things out here that you two won't know about, either."
Gil, easy to read, droops his shoulders and hangs his head in shame.
"...Sorry," he says.
"It's all right," I reassure him, "just be careful in the future."
"Not about that! ...I mean, sorry that I was making fun of you for not knowing things, earlier."
It seems he's rethinking a lot of things from back at the temple. Seeing him apologize so seriously, Lutz laughingly pats him on the shoulder.
"Man, none of us know anything," he says. "If you think Maïne's doing something weird, tell her about it right away. Like that blessing earlier. I'll keep an eye out for you, too, in case you start doing something weird."
"Gil," I say, "there's some street stands over there selling things for travelers, so let's go there to buy your dinner and the presents."
Since the eastern gates open onto the highway, there's lots of travelers, and lots of activity. However, since there's lots of outsiders around, public order isn't all that great. I look around, trying to find a stall as close to the central plaza as possible where we can buy what we need. I buy a few sandwich-like things, with ham and cheese stacked between two thin slices of bread, wrapping them in a cloth that I'd brought with me and putting them in my tote bag.
"Fran, how many people live in the orphanage right now? What should I bring back for them?"
"...I believe there are somewhere between eighty or ninety people, at the moment. They generally aren't given anything sweet to eat, so perhaps I might suggest a fruit that is easy to cut up, or perhaps small fruits like those over there?"
As Fran holds me up, I use my high viewpoint to look over the surrounding stalls. I can see three stalls selling fruits. We wander between them, comparing them to see what's reasonably priced.
"These... are the gods' blessings," says Gil.
"Huh?"
As soon as we hear him speak, Fran and I look over our shoulders. Behind us, we see that Gil has arbitrarily picked up one of the fruits piled up at one of the stalls and is messily biting into it. Lutz, who had been holding Gil's hand so that he didn't go running off on his own, stands there frozen, eyes wide open in disbelief.
"Gil?!"
"Hey, kid! You didn't pay for that. Are you trying to rob me in broad daylight, right in front of my store!?"
The woman working at the cart punches Gil without even waiting for a reply. Gil looks at me, dumbfounded, holding the half-eaten, peach-like, bralle. I immediately ask Fran to let me down, taking out some money.
"I'm very sorry, ma'am. He's lived a very sheltered life and doesn't know much about the world. He's only just learning about money. I'll pay for it, so please don't call the guards."
"Sorry, ma'am," says Lutz. "I was supposed to be keeping an eye on him."
I pay her as the two of us apologize profusely. She looks down at Gil in shock, then shrugs her shoulders.
"My word. I don't care how rich of a family he's come from, if you're walking around with him, you should really pay more attention."
"We're really very sorry, ma'am," I say. "Hey, Gil, you should apologize, too."
"Ah? Um, s... sorry."
With prompting, he shakily apologizes, looking completely lost as to what to do.
"Gil, did you like that bralle?"
"Y... yeah..."
He stares down at the half-eaten fruit, looking worried. "It's okay to eat it now, I paid for it," I tell him as I fish two more wrapping cloths out of my tote bag, tying the corners together to make two cloth bags.
"Ma'am, could I get five bralles in each of these bags, please?"
"Sure thing."
We apologetically buy the presents for the orphanage from her place, then head back towards the central plaza. I have Gil, as punishment, carry the bags. I figure that as long as both of his hands are full, he's going to be a lot less likely to do something unexpected.
"When I give you your wages I'll make sure to teach you how money works, but until then, don't touch any of the goods at any stores," I tell him.
"...Okay."
As we start heading north along the main road back towards the temple, with me in Fran's arms, Lutz looks up at me.
"Hey, Maïne. Before we head back to the temple, can we go talk to Master Benno?"
"Yeah. I was planning on asking him to get a tea set and cooking utensils for me, so that's a pretty good idea."
Lutz races off to the store, which is bustling with activity as it gets opened back up after lunch break. I ask Fran to set me down, and head over to the store at my normal, leisurely pace. Gil, both hands still full of bags, follows along behind me.
"Maïne, Master Benno is waiting for you," says Mark, stepping outside to greet me as I approach.
"Good afternoon, Mister Mark," I reply.
I head into the back office, with Fran and Gil in tow. Inside, Lutz is standing in front of Benno's writing desk, finishing up his report. As soon as Benno sees me, he stands straight up, strides over, grabs me under his arm, and lifts me up high.
"Maïne, you've really done it this time! Just being able to look at a kitchen that a nobleman used will be a great reference for that Italian restaurant."
He ruffles my hair so hard that my head rattles. He's so overexcited that Fran, who'd only known Benno from how he'd been acting at the temple, takes a shocked step back.
I push his hand away, ask him to put me down, and go to sit down at the same table as always.
"I've been told that I can bring cooks in to use the kitchen in the director's office, so I wanted to come here to talk about maybe using that to start training cooks right away. The food they make would be used as meals for my attendants, and anything after that would go to the orphanage, so none of the ingredients would have to go to waste."
"Hmm, I see..." he says, nodding, taking notes on a wooden board.
"Since it's going to be food for my attendants, I'd pay for the ingredients, so it's not going to cost you anything at all. That sounds great, doesn't it?"
Providing food for the orphanage is the duty of a blue-robed priestess, so I need to do what I can to fulfill it. Plus, if I think of the orphanage as being full of starving children like Gil, then on a purely personal level I want to do something about that, too.
Benno, however, thinks about it for a while, then slowly shakes his head.
"No, hold up. The cost of the ingredients is an expense of training the cooks, so I'll pay that. If I let you pay for everything, then I'm not going to be able to complain if you decide to keep those cooks working for you there."
I shrug at his very merchant-like answer. If he's offering to take on the cost of the ingredients, then it's actually better for me to let him. Right now, although Maïne's Workshop is technically open for business, at least on paper, I'm not actually making any money.
"...Then, how about I provide the funds for the equipment and cookware for the kitchen, and you pay for the ingredients used for training purposes?"
"Sounds about right, since I'm just going to be borrowing that kitchen for a while as a training facility. Alright! Let's go check it out."
Benno, perhaps wanting very much to see an oven, stands up as if to end the conversation. He's got the exact same expression on that Gil did when he found out he got to go see the town. All of this, somehow, leaves me perplexed.
"Mister Benno, we can't go right now. The kitchen hasn't been cleaned yet."
"It is as Sister Maïne says," says Fran, nodding emphatically in unison with Gil. "It is not yet a place where we can invite a guest such as yourself, nor can we serve you a satisfactory cup of tea."
However, Benno is plainly full of curiosity, interest, and practical desire to see reference material for the Italian restaurant, and pays no heed whatsoever to our opinions. He smiles broadly at us as he throws on a jacket suitable for wearing to the temple over his street clothes.
"I'm not a guest. I'm a merchant! You're an apprentice blue-robed priestess who's only just got her own rooms, and I'm just the man who's there to take down the order for all the things you need to furnish them. It's only natural that the cleaning's not done yet, isn't it? Plus, I want to see how it looks before you do anything strange in there."
"So, then, are you going to help me clean, or what?"
"Hmm? Of course I can help you clean. I got my start as an apprentice sweeping out this shop, you know."
It's no use. I can't say anything to stop him. Benno wants to know everything he can about the nobility, and he is not going to let this perfect opportunity escape from him.
"...Fran, let's give it up. It's not like we're going to have a tea set ready by the time we're done with cleaning, anyway, so now that's he's gotten like this, we might as well let him help clean."
"Sister Maïne?!"
Figuring how to stop Benno has gotten just bothersome enough that I've stopped caring. Every moment we spend on this pointless chatter is a moment out of my afternoon that I don't get to spend reading.
"Fran, you might not know this saying, but sometimes you just have to take whatever help you can get. He himself says he wants to go, and he says that he can help us clean, so let's let him work. I just want to go read a book."
Fran's eyes momentarily go wide, then the corners of his mouth start twitching as if he's holding back laughter.
"...I am terribly sorry, Sister Maïne, but you are not allowed to enter the library without me present. If Master Benno accompanies us as we return to the temple, I'm afraid that you will not be able to read."
"Noooo!!"
In the end, no matter what I tried to say, Benno completely ignored it, instead snatching me up and hauling me off. So, now, we've returned to the temple, and I can't read any books.
Just as Benno said, after he surveys the rooms of the director's office, he takes off his jacket, gives some directions to Gil and Lutz, and starts cleaning. Everyone else, caught up in his wake, quickly get to work as well. Benno and Fran take on the tasks that involve reaching high places and the work that involves a lot of physical strength, while Gil and Lutz take the low places and the detail work.
I have no strength, no stamina, and would only get in everyone's way if I tried to help, so I am left sobbing at the upstairs table, yearning desperately for a book as I fill out the order form for all the things I can think of that I'm going to need Lutz to deliver.
