The day after returning from the Dedication Ritual to the
"Mine, got a minute? Ah, no, may I have a moment?"
"Yes, that's fine. ...
When we returned from the Dedication Ritual, Gil's speech had improved slightly. Apparently, the young children of the orphanage had been receiving all sorts of education from the former Gray Priestess turned Attendant, and they'd started checking every little thing about Gil's behavior and speech at the workshop.
"They keep saying things like, 'Since Gil is an Attendant, he must properly amend his language and demeanor to befit his lord.' ...No. That's what they say."
When the children pointed things out with smug looks, Gil would puff out his cheeks. I could totally relate to the kids who wanted to use newly learned phrases, and I also understood Gil's irritation at being called out.
"Since you are my Attendant, these are things Gil would need to learn eventually, so this is a good opportunity. Do your best."
"Mine, I'll try hard, but... please don't fire me and replace me with someone else."
Gil knelt beside me and said this with a bitter look, tightly pressing his lips together. But I had no idea why this was even a thing.
"Huh? Wait a moment, Gil. How did this come about?"
"There are plenty of kids out there more capable than me..."
Gil murmured this and hung his head.
Apparantly, since Gil—the mischievous troublemaker who'd been a regular in the reflection room—had become an Attendant, a whole bunch of boys had been fired up with fighting spirit, thinking that if he could do it, they could too. Gil was filled with anxiety about being replaced by someone else, and was desperately trying to learn tasks that no one else could handle.
...Was that why he'd been learning the workshop's work and burning with competitive fire against
Because I was sitting in a chair, Gil's head happened to be at just the right height for petting. I reached out and gently stroked it.
"I know very well that you've been working hard, Gil. Even if I need more help someday and take on other children as Attendants, there's no way I'd ever let you go."
"Oh, good..."
Gil's expression softened in relief. I had no intention of letting him go unless he did something truly terrible, but apparently Attendants could be dismissed at their lord's whim.
"Now then, you had something to tell me, didn't you?"
"Since the Chief Priest and the others are coming for the tour, is it really okay for me to keep working at the workshop today?"
"Yes. I think the Chief Priest and the others would like to see what kind of work we do. Just my presence at the workshop makes everyone tense. It'll be even more tense with the Chief Priest and the other Blue Priests, but I'd like everyone to do their best."
"Understood."
Gil smiled and headed off to the workshop.
Just as Gil was leaving,
"Good morning, Mine. I am honored to be invited today."
I had the three of them brought up to the second floor, then asked
"Mine, here. The clothes you asked for, and I prepared shoes too, just in case."
"Thank you, Lutz."
I received the clothes and shoes wrapped in cloth. I'd need to hand these over to Sylvester. I set the bundle Lutz had given me on the desk and returned to the table.
Benno, dressed in clothes suitable for meeting a noble, fixed me with a merchant's gleam in his eyes.
"So, the other Blue Priest besides the Chief Priest—which noble house is he from?"
"I don't know."
"Hey."
Benno glared at me, wanting to have gathered at least some advance information, but there was nothing I could do about it.
"His name is Sylvester, but why on earth would I know where his family estate is?"
"Find out. Gather whatever information you can, idiot."
Certainly, for a merchant, family background information might be important, but what I wanted to know was Sylvester's avoidance strategy.
Since I couldn't answer anything, I'd probably get scolded again, so I tried to recall what I'd learned during the Dedication Ritual.
"Well, he's quite a strange person. According to the Chief Priest, his personality is bad, but he's not rotten to the core."
"I don't need that kind of information. I need details about the scale of his family, connections between households, personal preferences—information that ties into business."
"Ah, I'm sorry. I genuinely wanted to keep my distance, but I never once wanted to know anything about Sylvester..."
When I inadvertently blurted out my true feelings, Benno drooped his shoulders in disappointment and let out a sigh.
"Haa..."
"Next time we visit the workshop for the tour, I'll introduce you. You can size him up for yourself as a business partner, Benno. That's more reliable than depending on my eyes."
"Well, that's true. It's useless to expect much from you. As long as you don't forget to introduce us, I suppose that's good enough."
Benno convinced himself that at least it was better than having had no post-tour report at all, after the panic over the Chief Priest and Sylvester coming to inspect the place.
It made me sad that I couldn't say "How rude."
"Well then, see you later. Don't mess up—be careful."
He grinned, said that, and headed off to the workshop with Lutz and Leon.
The promised third bell began to ring.
I stood up with a start of tension, and Fran, holding the bundle Lutz had brought, said "Shall we go?" and started walking ahead. I followed behind Fran, and
"Rosina, Deria, keep an eye on the place for me."
"Please take care, Mine. We await your safe and swift return."
When we arrived at the Chief Priest's room, the Chief Priest was seated at his desk writing, but Sylvester had already arrived and was waiting.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
"Right, let's go."
He wore the kind of excited face you'd expect heading out on an adventure or expedition, which I couldn't quite understand. I didn't think touring the orphanage or workshop was supposed to be fun. Perhaps, setting aside the orphanage, the workshop was exciting because it was neither in the Temple nor the Noble District?
"Sylvester, please take these first... The clothes you requested, and wooden clogs commonly worn in the lower city."
"Hoh, you were quite fast about it."
"They're secondhand clothes. Not custom-tailored."
When Fran handed the package to Sylvester's Attendant, he took it and furrowed his brow, looking troubled.
...I know secondhand commoner clothes might not be what you want, but those were ordered by your own master.
"You all stay here. I only need Fran and Damuel as escorts. There's no point in having a crowd go somewhere that isn't very spacious—it'll just be cramped."
Sylvester said this to
"Sorry for the wait. Let's go."
At the Chief Priest's words after finishing his preparations, we set out. Fran led the way, followed by the Chief Priest and Sylvester, and behind them came myself and Damuel.
"Damuel, pick her up and carry her. She's too slow."
"...At least phrase it as 'carry her in your arms.'"
As the five of us headed toward the orphanage, Sylvester apparently couldn't match my walking pace. He spun around, pointed at me, and ordered Damuel.
"Normally, I wouldn't allow something that occupies a guard's hands... but I'm stronger than Damuel. Today is special."
Even so, I'd been trying my best to walk quickly. If two tall people went striding ahead, I couldn't keep up even at a run. I was starting to get a bit short of breath, so I was actually relieved to be picked up.
"This is the orphanage."
As she said this, Fran pushed the door open with a creak. It was the dining hall of the orphanage's girls' wing. Inside,
In the lower city, it was in principle forbidden to employ children before their
"Welcome."
"My Attendant, Wilma, who handles the management of this place and looks after the children before their Baptism Ceremony all by herself."
When I introduced Wilma, still kneeling, the Chief Priest seemed to recall something and slightly raised his eyebrows.
"Ah, the Attendant who drew those remarkable pictures. Continue your efforts."
"Oh, I'm honored."
Wilma seemed surprised at being praised, and spoke in a trembling voice. She probably hadn't expected the Chief Priest to recognize a Gray Priestess. Because her hair was neatly tied up, the tips of her ears, flushed bright red from embarrassment, were clearly visible.
"Hoh. I expected it to be more chaotic with so many young ones, but it's quite clean."
Sylvester strode to the center of the dining hall and looked around.
"Everyone cleans properly."
I answered proudly. I kept telling them to keep the place where they ate clean, and Wilma took the lead in cleaning, so the orphanage was kept spotless.
"You're all about the same size as you, Mine. Are there no children smaller than this?"
"...There aren't right now."
The reason there were no children smaller than the current ones was that without anyone to look after them, without food, they couldn't survive. I felt a flicker of irritation at Sylvester saying something he must know, but there was no point bringing it up now.
"I know it's not my place to say, but Sylvester—I've already completed my Baptism Ceremony."
"You look about the same size."
If we were only going by height, I might actually be the shortest, but summer would mark a full year since my ceremony.
Ignoring me as I puffed out my cheeks in a pout, Sylvester seemed to notice the wooden boxes lined up at the far end of the dining hall and walked over, flipping one open.
"Mine, what's this?"
"Textbooks and toys for learning to read. Everything here was basically made at the workshop."
Sylvester took out a children's Holy Book, flipped through it, then looked at the karuta and playing cards, knitting his brows. The Chief Priest leaned in from the side, picked up a karuta card, and gave me a hard look.
"Mine, I haven't heard about this."
"It's karuta. A toy that helps with learning to read. My Attendant said he wanted to learn letters, so I made some, and I prepared copies for the orphanage too. It's a lot of work to paint each card individually, so we can't really mass-produce them here in the workshop unless we can print them."
At my words, the Chief Priest murmured "Hmm" and fell into thought.
"...You haven't been mass-producing them?"
"No. I transferred the rights to Benno, but I haven't heard that any mass production has happened."
Benno said they'd sell, but I hadn't heard about any actual commercialization. Maybe they couldn't find an illustrator.
"But because I read the Holy Book to make these, I was able to learn the names of the gods and the divine instruments. The children of the orphanage have completely memorized both the reading cards and picture cards, so they're really impressive."
"Oh? I'd like to see. Show me."
At Sylvester's sudden demand, the children looked flustered, glancing between Wilma and me.
I had a vague idea what Sylvester would say, so I picked up a karuta card and smiled at the children.
"Well then, I'll read them aloud. Will everyone try to grab the matching card?"
"Yes, Mine."
The children's faces were tense and stiff at first, but as they got absorbed in the karuta, their eyes gradually grew serious and the stiffness drained from their faces.
The child who grabbed the most cards received a "Well done" from Sylvester. The Chief Priest looked away from the children packing up the karuta and down at me.
"Mine, do you know all of these by heart? Can the children read the reading cards too?"
"Yes. Every child in the orphanage can read those picture books, and they can read the karuta reading cards as well. They memorized them over the winter."
"...Over the winter?"
Sylvester's eyes went wide in shock. I nodded proudly.
"Yes. In winter, we're snowed in with nothing to do. The older children did handiwork for the workshop, but there's only so much the younger ones can do. So we all read books together and played karuta like this. We also played with those playing cards, so they can read numbers to some extent and have even learned to do a little arithmetic."
When I announced the results of my winter Temple classroom, the Chief Priest—who had supposedly already received Fran's report—held his head in his hands.
"Mine."
"What is it, Chief Priest?"
"...It can wait."
With a face that looked like he was straining to hold back something he desperately wanted to say, the Chief Priest sighed. I had an ominous feeling that a lecture was waiting for me. Why?
Sylvester clamped a firm hand on my shoulder.
"So, will you show us the workshop?"
"Yes."
I started toward the stairs, intending to go through the back door from the girls' wing basement as usual.
"Mine, that entrance isn't appropriate for guests..."
"Oh."
Wilma called out to me with a troubled look, and I snapped to attention, stopping in my tracks and changing direction. You obviously couldn't escort guests through the back door.
However, my sudden change of direction made it look to the Chief Priest like I was hiding something. He furrowed his brow and looked toward the stairs.
"Wait. What's down there?"
"It's the back door I normally use to go to the workshop. But since you're both guests, I should properly escort you from the front entrance. How careless of me."
My words deepened the crease between the Chief Priest's brows.
"...A back door to the orphanage? I've never seen it."
"Take us that way."
At the request of both of them, I went down the stairs as usual, through the basement, and out the back door toward the workshop.
In the girls' wing basement, they were in the middle of preparing lunch. A large pot was simmering with a generous amount of soup. The moment they saw us, everyone moved to the wall and knelt in a line.
"So this is where you make the orphanage's meals."
"Yes. Basically we only make soup here, though."
I had reported to the Chief Priest that we made up for the shortfall in divine blessings by cooking at the orphanage. It seemed novel to both men, who probably had never even peeked into their own kitchens, to see food being prepared in person, and they were peering into the pot.
"Doesn't this soup resemble the one we shared during the Dedication Ritual?"
"I taught them the recipe, so it would."
"Isn't this too luxurious for orphans to eat every day?"
Sylvester narrowed his eyes and murmured. I let out a quiet breath. When the number of Blue Priests and Shrine Maidens decreased, divine blessings dwindled, and we had to earn and cook for ourselves to survive. There was no way we could afford luxury.
Of course, I couldn't say any of that to Sylvester, a Blue Priest.
"Come to think of it, I recall Damuel's report mentioning some commoner sweets being made as well?"
"Sweets? How luxurious!"
At the Chief Priest's words, Sylvester's eyes went wide.
"You may call it luxury, but unlike sugar and honey that nobles can buy with money, the fruit we use can only be harvested on clear winter mornings. It's not something we can eat every day. Besides, with so many people in the orphanage, the amount each person gets is quite small. It does taste delicious in a seasonal way, though. Right, Damuel?"
I looked back and forth between the Chief Priest and Sylvester as I spoke, and Damuel nodded vigorously, seemingly unconcerned by their piercing stares. Sylvester glared at Damuel with a jealous look.
"Damuel, have you been enjoying yourself quite a bit?"
"I don't think so, actually. There's been more hardship than anything."
With me collapsing and my heart seizing up, and being glared at like this by a High Noble, there was no way Damuel had been having a purely good time.
"If we stay here, the soup might burn. Shall we head to the workshop?"
I wanted to get out before Sylvester decided he wanted to try a Paru cake—that would be a hassle—so I cut the conversation short and hurried out the back door. Then we headed toward the orphanage's boys' wing, on the opposite side of the chapel.
"The basement of this boys' wing is the Mine Workshop."
Fran said this as we nodded and entered. Just like in the girls' wing, everyone immediately stopped their work, moved to the wall, and knelt. Among them were the three members of the Gilberta Company.
"Spring has come, so we've started producing Plant Paper. We make a lot of paper first, and then make picture books."
Since we couldn't go to the forest today, it seemed they were doing papermaking and hanging paper to dry. Sylvester, who had been looking around the workshop, snorted.
"Mine, where are the toys made?"
"Toy production was during winter. That period is over now. If we order materials again, we could make them relatively easily, but here, paper and picture books are the top priority."
At my words, Sylvester blinked in puzzlement and tilted his head.
"Toys seem more interesting and likely to sell, so why are paper and picture books the top priority?"
"Because I want them."
What was wrong with having my workshop make what I wanted? It didn't matter whether they'd sell or not. I wanted books. That was the whole point of the Mine Workshop.
At my declaration, Sylvester blinked with an expression that screamed disbelief, his mouth slightly agape.
"...How do I put this—you do whatever you want, don't you?"
"Huh? You're one to talk, Sylvester?"
I didn't want to hear the words "do whatever you want" from the one person who fit that description better than anyone. We both stared at each other in mutual surprise, when the Chief Priest let out a deep sigh.
"The fact remains that you're both headaches for me."
"Ugh..."
"More importantly, Mine. I want to see the workshop in action. Everyone, get back to work."
Ignoring the Chief Priest's words completely, Sylvester's command sent the Gray Priests standing in a line back to their stations. He was absolutely more freely irrepressible than me—do whatever he wanted to a whole other degree.
When the Gray Priests started moving in the workshop, only the three members of the Gilberta Company remained kneeling by the wall.
"The Chief Priest is already acquainted, but let me introduce you to Sylvester. The members of the Gilberta Company, which sells goods made in this workshop—Benno, and the two doppel apprentices Leon and Lutz."
"Ah, the merchants handling these goods."
Sylvester glanced at the workshop in motion, then looked down at Benno and the others.
"Yes. The Mine Workshop's products are essentially handled by the Gilberta Company. The eatery that caught your interest, Sylvester, is a new establishment that the Gilberta Company will be starting. Please do favor us with your patronage."
"Hoh, raise your head. You may answer directly."
"I am honored."
When Benno raised his head, no greeting came immediately—I could tell he swallowed hard once.
"Benno?"
"...By the pure flow and divine guidance of the Water Goddess Flutrene's blessed waters, may our meeting receive her blessing."
Benno said this, then bowed his head once more.
Sylvester narrowed his eyes slightly, looked down at Benno, and let out a soft laugh. For some reason, his gaze reminded me of a raptor that had spotted prey.
"Benno, you're going to make an interesting eatery, aren't you? I've been meaning to have a long talk with you. I'm going to go discuss the eatery with Benno in a room for a bit. Come, Benno."
"As you wish."
Benno rose gracefully. His complexion didn't look very good. I couldn't help but call out to Sylvester.
"Sylvester, you promised not to swap the chef."
"...We're not discussing anything like that. It's just a business meeting."
"Then that's fine."
A business meeting was a merchant's domain. It wasn't something I should interfere with.
"Mine, what is this machine?"
Called over by the Chief Priest, I left with a glance toward Benno being led away by Sylvester and went to explain.
The Chief Priest was looking at a printing press in the middle of its transformation from a press.
"This is a new printing press. It's not finished yet, but it's really taken shape while we were at the Dedication Ritual. I'm looking forward to seeing it completed."
"How do you use it? Damuel gave me a basic report, but I didn't quite understand..."
At the Chief Priest's question, I called Gil over and had him demonstrate roughly how it worked.
"Gil, please prepare the ink. Chief Priest, these are metal type blocks—you pick out the letters and assemble them into text like this."
"...Metal type? They look like tiny seals."
While the Chief Priest held a metal type block and examined it, I had Fran pick out some type and composed a short text. I placed it in the typesetting frame and wedged boards in the gaps to keep the metal type from shifting.
"Mine, it's ready."
"Then, would you print it for me? Please use one of the failed sheets of paper."
"Yes!"
Gil placed the typesetting frame on the printing press and applied ink. Then he laid paper on top.
"Normally, you'd move this part and press down firmly to apply the ink, but since it's not finished yet, I'll use this baren to rub the ink on. Once it's done, I'll dry it and print on the next sheet. Since paper is precious, I'll print on a different spot this time."
Gil printed the same text multiple times on one sheet of paper. I watched the Chief Priest staring at the paper in stunned silence and proudly said, "With a proper press, it's much faster than rubbing with a baren. Impressive, right?"
Rather than praising the new printing press, the Chief Priest held his head in his hands.
"So history will change... I see."
"...Huh? What?"
I thought the Chief Priest, who owned so many expensive books, would be happy about it, but his reaction was unexpected. He looked down at me and laughed softly. His golden eyes, when seated, were rather intimidating.
"Mine, I've suddenly accumulated a mountain of things I want to ask you and tell you."
...Wait? I'm pretty sure I reported everything properly through Fran and Damuel, right? Why?
There's so much you can't grasp from reports alone. Seeing is believing.
Mine's surroundings seem to be suffering from stomachaches and headaches.
Next time: the Blue Priest's gift.