The Self-Eating Foundling

I didn't notice Turi coming for nighttime feedings anymore, and I was finally sleeping soundly about three days after Kamill was born. Once all the birth celebration events at home and in the neighborhood were finished, the family returned to their daily routines. And from today, I would be going back to the Temple as well.

I headed to the Gilberta Company with Damuel and Fran, who had come to pick me up. As a thank-you for the celebration, I needed to tell Benno just how adorable Kamill was. And along the way, I'd need to discuss printing matters too.

"Really, he was just born, and he's so tiny, and when he cries he turns all red, and he's all wrinkly, but he's just so cute! I never imagined my little brother could be this adorable."

I repeated to Benno the same long-winded account I'd been giving Lutz, Fran, and Damuel along the way. Benno pressed his temples with a deeply pained expression.

"That's enough. I've already heard enough child-bragging from Otto. Get to the printing business already."

"Huh? Corina already had her baby? I never heard about that!"

When my eyes went wide in surprise, Benno frowned.

"I didn't mention it? It happened while you were cooped up in the Temple. Otto was being so loud about it that I assumed you'd heard from your father, or from Lutz or Leon..."

As he spoke, Benno turned his gaze toward Lutz. Lutz shrugged with a troubled look.

"Leon told me it would be proper for the master to relay the news, so I deliberately didn't mention it."

"Well, technically I'm the one who should have told you, and after Kamill was born I did see Mine, but... there just wasn't any opportunity for that kind of conversation."

Benno's gaze went distant as he mentioned the completion of the metal movable type and the time they'd been called out for the blue-robed priests' visit. Now that I thought back, we really had been so busy that there was no way to squeeze in such a warm, pleasant topic.

"She was born at the end of winter. Her name is Renate. She's the Gilberta Company's heir. I expect you'll work well together in the future."

His introduction was so matter-of-fact compared to the way Father had been going around telling everyone, and it made me tilt my head.

"You don't seem all that excited, Benno. For a long-awaited heir and all..."

"Well, Otto is excited enough for the both of us. That idiot looks like he's going to spoil her rotten. Someone needs to raise her strictly, or the Gilberta Company will fall apart."

A bitter smile escaped me at Benno's sour expression, as though he were chewing on a bitter bug. Even as he talked about being strict, I could easily imagine him saying something soft and sweet.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that no matter what you say, Benno, you're actually quite soft-hearted."

"Hmm?"

He glared at me with those reddish-brown eyes, but I just shrugged.

"If you leave Corina in charge of raising her, it'll be fine. She'll smile sweetly and gently, with that warm, fuzzy demeanor, and the child will grow up into a proper heir who knows how to secure profits."

You'd be fooled by Corina's easygoing, motherly atmosphere, but later when you thought back, you'd realize she'd been chattering away about all kinds of valuable information, and you'd feel aghast at yourself for not catching it. That had happened to me more than once.

Benno would point it out for me, or drop hints so I'd notice I was leaking information, but Corina never did. If you thought about it from a merchant's perspective, Benno was actually the softer one. In his case, I think it was because that protective guardian instinct he'd developed when he'd tried to raise me as a merchant's apprentice still lingered, making him go easy on me.

"I'm the one who raised Corina, you know."

"...Then the Gilberta Company is in good hands for the foreseeable future."

Benno nodded at my words as if to say, "Obviously."

"So, what's this about printing?"

"The Chief Priest told me to hold off on movable type printing for a while. He said if I pushed ahead, the vested interests we'd clash with would be the Nobility. We wouldn't stand a chance."

"...Vested interests who are Nobility? Then running is the smart move."

Even Benno, who loved picking fights with entrenched interests, apparently had no intention of picking a fight with the Nobility. I relaxed slightly and relayed what the Chief Priest had told me.

"Specifically, he told me not to make dense, word-heavy books for adults. He said making books for children wouldn't cause conflict, so for the next few years, I want to devote myself entirely to making children's picture books."

"Devote yourself... entirely? Give me specifics."

Benno's eyes sharpened as he glared at me. I nodded firmly and announced the Mine Workshop's business plan going forward.

"Specifically, I want to develop colored inks so I can add color to illustrations. On top of that, I want to develop wax paper and improve stencil duplicating techniques. We'll need to move pretty quickly to make it work in time."

"In time? For what?"

Benno tilted his head with a skeptical look, and I answered with my chest puffed out.

"I need picture books that keep up with my adorable little brother Kamill's growth! I'm going to do my best for Kamill's sake too, so please introduce me to a wax workshop soon."

"And do you have the Chief Priest's approval for that?"

His face twisted with extreme suspicion as he questioned me. He and the Chief Priest had both nagged me repeatedly to get permission, report back, and not go off-script — did he really think I'd go rogue?

"The Chief Priest said children's picture books wouldn't clash with the vested interests, so that was fine. And adding color to the picture books was his order in the first place. He said Wilma's illustrations were wasted in black and white, and that books should have color..."

"If you have approval, then fine. I'll make arrangements to set up a meeting with the wax workshop master soon."

With his promise to take me to the wax workshop, I left the Gilberta Company.

"Good morning. I've just returned."

"Welcome back, Lady Mine."

Greeted by Deria and Rosina, I changed into my Blue Robe. While changing, I told the two of them about Kamill's birth.

"A few days ago, my little brother was born. His name is Kamill. He was just born, so he's really tiny, and when he cries he turns red, and he's all wrinkly, but he's just so cute."

"Lady Mine, the way you're describing him doesn't really sound cute at all."

Rosina giggled. The red and wrinkly parts were cute too, but it apparently wasn't coming across well.

"Whether Mine's little brother is cute or not doesn't really matter to us, but why are you telling us this?"

"So that lots of people will hear about it and remember. I was told to spread the word about Kamill's birth to as many people as possible."

After spending a good amount of time discussing how cute Kamill was and feeling satisfied, I began my Feyspiel practice.

While receiving instruction from Rosina on the first floor, there was a knock and the sound of a door opening. After a moment, Fran came up the stairs and called out with a slightly troubled expression.

"I apologize for interrupting your practice. Lady Mine, Wilma says she has an urgent matter."

"Send her in."

If Wilma had an urgent matter, it had to be about the orphanage. I had Deria put away my Feyspiel and moved to the table to receive Wilma.

When Wilma came up to the second floor, she was carrying an infant in her arms. The baby was slightly larger than Kamill. Both Wilma, who had climbed the stairs with the child, and Fran, who had brought her up, looked at me with expressions that seemed to plead for help.

"Wilma, what's going on with that child?"

At the very least, I hadn't heard any reports of a pregnant Gray Priestess at the Temple. Even if she had become the Attendant of a blue-robed priest, the norm was to send pregnant women back to the orphanage. So one thing was certain: this child had not been born here.

"He was apparently abandoned. More like entrusted to the gatekeeper..."

According to Wilma's account, a gray-robed priest who was standing guard at the Gate as usual noticed a woman approaching at a brisk pace. The woman had said, "I dedicate this to the gods," and handed over a round bundle wrapped in cloth.

Apparently, people occasionally came with offerings asking for prayers to the gods, or bringing tribute to give thanks for divine aid, so the gatekeeper accepted it without much suspicion.

"When he unwrapped the cloth to inspect the contents before handing it over to a blue-robed priest, the baby was inside."

Items coming from the lower city could contain anything, so they were required to check the contents before passing them on to a blue-robed priest.

"Offering a child to the gods..."

Parents who couldn't kill their child but couldn't raise them either would bring them here, entrusting their child's fate to the gods. That was why they came to the orphanage. Looking at this baby — slightly bigger than Kamill, able to hold up his head but still too small to crawl — I felt my anger toward the mother who had abandoned him swelling inside me.

"Since you're the director of the orphanage, Lady Mine, I brought him here first. What should we do?"

To admit a child into the orphanage required the director's permission. But since taking on the role of director, this was the first time a child had been added, and I had no idea what procedures to follow.

"I can't very well tell you what to do when this is my first time dealing with a new child at the orphanage. There are so many things I'll only know by asking the Chief Priest. Fran, could you request an audience with the Chief Priest? I'll explain it's urgent."

"As you wish."

This was a first for Fran too, so he furrowed his brows with a troubled look and quickly left the room. Completely unaware of our confusion, the baby slept soundly in Wilma's arms.

"He's sleeping so peacefully."

Looking at the sleeping infant reminded me of Kamill, and my face softened. This baby was cute, but my little brother was far cuter.

"...He's fine now while he's sleeping, but I don't know what to do when he wakes up. There's no woman here who's had a baby, so nobody can nurse him, and I have no idea what to do..."

Until now, when a baby had been brought in from outside, taking them down to the lower floor meant there were usually Gray Priestesses who were pregnant or had recently given birth and were raising their own children. Even a tiny infant would be watched over by them alongside their own kids.

But now, all the Gray Priestesses from the orphanage who had become mothers were gone, and the child-rearing knowledge that had been shared down in the lower floor had been completely severed. The remaining Gray Priestesses and apprentices were all girls who had never even handled a flower offering.

Having left the lower floor with their Baptism Ceremony and been raised entirely separated from their parents, the orphanage children had zero knowledge about pregnancy, childbirth, or child-rearing. Apparently, they had absolutely no idea what to do with a baby.

"My Lady, do you know anything about how to raise a child without a mother?"

"I've read about mothers whose milk had dried up using goat's milk as a substitute. Apparently it's better for children than cow's milk. It takes time, but if you give it to him little by little with a tiny spoon, he should be able to drink it."

It was knowledge I'd only picked up from a story set during wartime, but it seemed like a ray of hope for Wilma, who had been completely at a loss. Her face lit up as though praising me.

"I'm deeply grateful, Lady Mine. I'll prepare it right away."

"We'll need to prepare diapers and clothes too."

As I mentally listed the things needed to care for Kamill, Wilma shook her head gently.

"We still have some old ones left over from before, so while we'll need to increase the supply a bit, it's not an immediate concern."

"Right."

When Fran returned from the Chief Priest's quarters, I asked him to arrange goat's milk. Around the time it was ready, the baby woke up and started crying while sucking on his own hand.

"I think he must be hungry."

At my words, Wilma began giving him goat's milk little by little with a small spoon. At first, the baby seemed to notice it was different from his mother and turned his head away in refusal, but hunger must have won out, and he started drinking with little smacking sounds.

I let out a sigh of relief. At least we'd managed to avoid the worst-case scenario of the baby having nothing to eat and starving to death.

The third bell rang out.

The baby flinched at the sound of the bell but quickly prioritized his appetite.

"Fran, let's go to the Chief Priest's quarters. Damuel, I'll need your help as well."

The three of us headed to the Chief Priest at a brisk pace. Maybe it was because Kamill's birth had heightened my big-sister instincts, but I felt an urgent need to secure that child's environment as quickly as possible.

"Chief Priest, I have something to discuss."

I requested an audience with the Chief Priest and told him about the abandoned baby. I asked about the procedures for adding a child to the orphanage and consulted him on how the baby should be cared for.

"What do you mean, 'how'? It should be the same as before, shouldn't it?"

"The Gray Priestesses who bore and raised children aren't here anymore. That's why I'm asking."

Hearing my words, the Chief Priest's eyes went wide as if struck by realization.

"So it was. But I can't very well conjure someone up out of nothing. Shall we hire a wet nurse? Unfortunately, I have no experience raising children."

"You can hire wet nurses?"

My eyes lit up at the prospect — wouldn't that make things so much easier? — but the Chief Priest shook his head slowly.

"...Only if we can find some eccentric willing to come to the orphanage."

"That sounds rather difficult."

I couldn't imagine anyone eccentric enough to volunteer at the orphanage. I concluded it probably wasn't feasible. For the time being, the best I could do would be to have my Attendants take over. The burden would be considerable, but if I didn't want the child to die, I had no choice.

"What about a name? There's nothing on the cloth or clothes that suggests one..."

"You can choose one yourself. As long as it doesn't match a name already in use at the orphanage, it doesn't matter."

"Understood."

After finishing the consultation, I returned to my room promptly. The baby had been fed and his diaper changed, and he was in a good mood. According to Wilma, who had done the changing, the baby was a boy.

"We'll need to take turns looking after him. If it's all on Wilma, she'll collapse."

When there had been multiple expectant and nursing mothers to share the work, delegating to the Gray Priestesses in the lower floor wouldn't have been a problem. But the Gray Priestesses still at the orphanage had never handled a newborn. They didn't even know how to care for one, and there was nobody they could ask. In that situation, even though watching over children was part of their role, it couldn't be left to Wilma alone. The caretaker herself would collapse.

"Nighttime feedings are necessary too. We'll need to stagger sleep times — someone stays up late, and someone wakes up early to take over."

We decided that during the day, Wilma would handle things at the orphanage, and at night, my Attendants would collectively take over in my room.

Rosina, who was naturally a night owl, would look after the baby until the middle of the night. Then Fran, who had gone to bed early, would wake up and take over. When Deria woke up, she would take over until Wilma came to pick up the child.

"Why do I have to do something like this!?"

Deria was angry. If it were about looking after me, her master, that was one thing, but she didn't see the point of looking after an abandoned baby every day. I understood her feelings, but we couldn't let the baby die from neglect.

I stared at Deria intently. Was there something effective I could say? I needed words that would make Deria want to look after this child of her own accord.

Then it hit me. I remembered Deria's envious expression when she'd said she didn't know who her family was. Deria had an intense longing for family.

"Of course you should look after him. You're his big sister, Deria."

"Huh? Big sister?"

Deria looked at me and the baby with a stunned expression, like a pigeon that had been hit by a bean pellet.

"Think about your age, Deria. You're not old enough to be his mother, so you're his big sister, right? Think of this child as your family and take good care of him."

"My family...?"

Deria tilted her head as though she'd heard something incomprehensible, murmuring "family" and "big sister" several times to herself while studying the baby intently.

"I only recently became a big sister myself, but today you've become one too, Deria. Let's compete to see who can be the better big sister!"

"That's obviously going to be my win!"

Deria thumped her chest proudly and puffed herself up.

I smiled softly at her. Now Deria would work hard at being a good big sister. Deep down, Deria was diligent, hardworking, and straightforward.

Seeing Deria so fired up, the surrounding Attendants softened their gazes. But once they saw the still-young Deria working earnestly to care for the baby, Rosina and Fran would surely help despite the burden.

"First, let's decide on a name for him. It can't be the same as any child already at the orphanage, but we're free to choose. Do you have any preferences?"

"I want a name that sounds like mine. That way it feels like family."

As Deria spoke, she looked curiously at the baby in Wilma's arms. Thinking it might help foster a bond, I considered names with a similar ring to Deria's.

"A name like Deria's... What about Dieta or Dirck?"

"Dirck."

Deria's face brightened unmistakably. "Dirck, I'm your big sister," she said gently, reaching out to pat the baby's head. Dirck responded with a soft, gummy smile.

"Lady Mine, did you see that? He smiled!"

"...You're something else, Deria. I've just been getting cried at by Kamill this whole time."

Suddenly confronted with the gap in our big-sister powers, I felt a tiny bit deflated.

That day, I went home early and threw myself into caring for Kamill to bolster my big-sister credentials. But Mother and Turi had already taken care of most everything, and there was hardly anything I was allowed to do.

When it came to changing diapers, there was a technique to it, and whenever I tried, Kamill would somehow manage to pee right in the middle of the process, making an unholy mess.

"Oh, so a foundling was brought to the orphanage... That's tough without any women to look after him."

Mother listened to my story while nursing Kamill.

"Do you think there's anything I can do?"

"Let's see... If the baby can nap during the day, the nighttime feedings become much easier. How about making sure he gets as much sleep as possible?"

Armed with this precious advice from an experienced mother, I nodded vigorously.

"Then I'll work hard at changing Kamill's and Dirck's diapers so that you and everyone else can nap!"

"I hope you get the hang of it soon."

She said it without much expectation, but Mother still smiled happily.

The next day, when I went to the Temple, Fran and Rosina looked exhausted. Sure enough, having their sleep schedule disrupted and having to prepare and feed goat's milk in the middle of the night was tough. Both of them could really use a proper nap.

"Fran and Rosina, after lunch, please take a nap for about the time it takes for one bell to ring. Since being up in the middle of the night is so demanding, rest your bodies in the afternoon."

"That is most welcome."

"That would be a great help."

Fran and Rosina both said this with looks of relief. It was exhausting even for a mother to care for her own child. Looking after a baby who had suddenly appeared at the orphanage must be even more exhausting.

"More importantly, Lady Mine. Something seems strange about Dirck."

Deria said this while gazing at Dirck with worry. Right now, the baby was sleeping soundly, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"It was early this morning. Dirck started crying, but the goat's milk wasn't ready yet, so we had no choice but to let him cry for a bit. While he was crying, his temperature suddenly shot up and his cheeks became all bumpy. Once we gave him the milk, it went down right away, though."

Fran had seen it too, but there was nothing on Dirck's face now. None of us understood what they were describing, and we all tilted our heads.

"Let's prepare the goat's milk and let him cry for a bit. We need to see what actually happens — whether it's something common in babies. We can't exactly ask Mother about it."

We all watched as Dirck began to cry from hunger. After a while, his crying turned into a piercing shriek, and his temperature really did spike rapidly.

"See, Lady Mine. He's burning up."

When I touched him, I felt a tingling sensation, like a static shock, as though my hand was being repelled. Dirck cried even more violently.

"Lady Mine, his cheeks have gone all bumpy."

"Deria, feed him right away."

"Yes. Dirck, sorry for the wait."

Deria pressed the small spoon to his mouth. As she poured the goat's milk in, Dirck immediately stopped crying and began drinking ravenously. The bumps on his cheeks quickly subsided and his temperature came down. This time, when I touched him, there was no reaction.

"Fran, request an audience with the Chief Priest. ...As soon as possible."

At the sharp edge in my voice, Fran immediately left the room.

Deria looked at me anxiously.

"Lady Mine, did you figure something out?"

"I can't say for certain right now."

I averted my gaze and shook my head at Deria's question.

I hoped my prediction was wrong. But it almost certainly wasn't. Dirck was a Self-Eating. Moreover, I thought he had so much Magic Power that he would die as a baby.

At my refusal to give a clear answer, Deria's eyes wavered with worry, and she held Dirck tightly, as though shielding him.

Babies keep appearing one after another. Mine's little brother Kamill, Corina's daughter Renate, and the Self-Eating foundling Dirck.

Next time, Mine discusses Dirck with the Chief Priest.