After finishing lunch, we got right to work on the big cleaning of the orphanage. However, the ones doing the cleaning were the people actually living there.
Right now there was an excess of grey priests. Up until a few years ago, the schedule had been to do laundry early in the morning and cleaning in the afternoon, but apparently nearly all of it was now finished by morning. Since there would be plenty of priests with no plans in the afternoon, it was decided to hold the big cleaning from that point on.
The official excuse for the big cleaning was that, as the apprentice blue priestess, I would be visiting to give my greetings upon assuming the role of director, and everything needed to look presentable. Having a stated purpose made it easier for the orphanage residents to accept the major undertaking of cleaning the orphanage, which they normally never did.
The purpose of this big cleaning was, of course, to make the orphanage clean—but also to teach everyone that "if you work hard, you get rewarded." To that end, I had the cook prepare a soup to thank those who cleaned, and the top thirty who took the initiative to scrub were each going to receive a piece of calfe butter instead of potato butter.
The orphanage cleaning was divided into groups: those who would bathe the children during the warm hours, those who would clean the basement of the girls' building where the pre-baptism children were, those who would clean the rest of the girls' building, those who would clean the basement of the boys' building and move in the workshop tools, and those who would clean the rest of the boys' building.
When
I explained that the cleaning area was vast and the workshop setup included heavy labor, so dividing people according to their strengths would finish things faster, and this time they agreed to do team assignments.
"But will they actually do as they're told and clean properly if we split them up?"
"It'll be fine. Fran is recognized by the orphanage lot as a direct attendant of the High Priest, so she has real authority."
To the grey priests and apprentices living in the orphanage, Fran—who enjoyed the High Priest's deep trust—was a fairly high-ranking presence. Gil explained that if Fran took charge, the children would grumble a bit but still get moving.
"A few of them won't listen even when told, but... they do exist."
Fran said this while glancing at Gil. The one called out looked away quickly. Gil, who was currently working hard like a model employee, had apparently been quite the troublemaker before and had given the supervising grey priests a very hard time.
Fran and Gil would patrol the orphanage, checking that cleaning was being done properly, noting who was working hard and who had escaped without cleaning, and reporting back with the cleaning progress.
"I should also go on patrol—"
"Myne, you stay here and watch the fort. It'd be a problem if you collapsed somewhere."
Before I could even voice my desire to go, Lutz shut me down. I choked out a frustrated "Ugh," and Gil looked at me with an exasperated expression.
"Look, Myne. This cleaning is for welcoming the apprentice blue priestess, so it'd be a real problem if you wandered into the orphanage before it's all done."
"Oh, right..."
Since Fran wasn't around, I couldn't even go to the archive. I let out a long sigh. Before me, Fran placed a single sheet of paper with a warm, loving smile. It was densely covered in her meticulous handwriting.
"There are many things for you to memorize, Myne. First, this evening you will be going to the orphanage to give your inaugural address. I would like you to memorize this entire text beforehand. Please be especially careful not to get the names of the gods wrong."
I had asked her to write it down so I could cheat, but apparently memorization was basically mandatory. I glanced at the lines of text and let out a light sigh. Seeing this, Fran smiled gently and began pulling out wooden tablets one after another.
"If you have time, I've recorded the origin and type of tea and milk prepared in this room here—please memorize these as well. These are your preferred combinations, Myne. This one is for Benno, this for Lutz, and this is the High Priest's."
"Eh? Eh?"
"You should always remember the preferences of those who visit frequently."
I couldn't very well say that I didn't think the High Priest would come, but I vaguely felt it might be good to remember the tastes of the superiors I worked alongside.
Lutz, barely holding back a big laugh, gave a firm thumbs up.
"Lucky you, Myne. You've got plenty to read."
"I like reading, but I'm terrible at memorizing..."
Unless it was something I was genuinely interested in, my brain was cursed with the memory of a goldfish—no, a newt—where reading the next thing would make everything before it slip away clean. Drooping my shoulders dejectedly, I picked up the documents Fran had compiled.
After the fifth bell, Fran returned briefly and began scratching names onto wooden tablets. These were the names and appearances of the children who had worked hard with the initiative, and those who had tried to skive off.
"The pre-baptism children's full bath that you were most concerned about, Myne, went smoothly during the warm hours using the soap and towels we had prepared. Right now they're wearing cheap secondhand clothes and stuffing new hay into sheets to make their beds."
The clothes were patched and repaid since they'd been bought cheap, but with washed sheets and hay purchased from a farm, they were making their own bedding.
"Are there any children who are sick or looking worn out?"
"No, there are no problems at all. It's probably thanks to Gil bringing them their meals for a while. Gil is adored by the children like a savior. He kept saying it was on your orders, Myne, so they likely see you as—"
Being told that made me feel bashful. I sincerely hoped the children had at least recovered a little.
"The priestesses and apprentices who were assigned to bathe the children have been mostly reassigned to help with cleaning, leaving just a few to make the beds. Well then, I'll be heading out on patrol again."
"Thank you, Fran. I'm counting on you."
Fran gave a light nod and headed back toward the orphanage.
Shortly after, Lutz returned.
"Myne, the boys' basement cleaning is done, so we're going to start moving in the workshop tools now."
"Got it. Thanks, Lutz."
"Those kids are amazing. They're used to cleaning. Super fast."
With that added remark, Lutz left with a light step.
Hardly had Lutz gone when Fran popped back in, scrawling additional names onto the wooden tablets based on what Gil had reported, then hurried out again.
While everyone was busy, I was sitting at my desk—delivered just a few days ago—staring down the paper in Fran's handwriting. The gods' names were long. And there were so many of them. I was tempted to suggest to the High Priest that we give them some friendlier nicknames.
Because Delia had the kitchen door open to check on things while cleaning the first floor, the rich aroma of the reward soup simmering inside began to waft through the air.
And while I was having these ridiculous thoughts, the cleaning was progressing smoothly.
"Myne, the boys' building cleaning is completely finished."
"Good work, Gil. Now it's just the girls' building, right?"
"Yep. But men aren't allowed in any part of the girls' building except the dining hall."
"Then could you start getting the dining hall ready so people can drink soup there?"
"Got it."
Gil left in a cheerful mood, and then Lutz came in.
"Hey, Myne. The workshop setup is done and I've started steaming the calfe potatoes. Cool?"
"'Cool?'... You already started, didn't you? Since Gil is getting the dining hall ready, it should all come together at just the right time, shouldn't it?"
As I was snickering, Lutz came closer and lowered his voice.
"Hey, none of these guys have ever even seen raw calfe. They keep saying they only know what it looks like after it's been cooked. I'm just lining them up and steaming them, but with all these priests and apprentices crowding around peering over my shoulder, it's really hard to work, you know?"
"Come to think of it, even in
"Then I guess I'll teach them how to sandwich butter too."
Lutz walked out with a grin, carrying butter and a knife.
After that, Fran appeared.
"As expected, the girls' building is running into difficulties cleaning the basement where the pre-baptism children were. Currently, everyone who was cleaning the girls' building has rallied together to tackle it. It should be finished soon. Also, unlike the boys' building, the girls' building has fewer people right now, so the pre-baptism children have been moved up to a small room on the first floor. Right now they're carrying in the hay-stuffed beds and fresh clothes."
I let out a relieved sigh at Fran's report. The children had their sleeping arrangements settled—that was the most important thing.
"Myne, have you finished memorizing the address?"
"...More or less. But I'm still nervous, so would it be alright if I took this paper with me?"
"Yes. Then I'll come for you as soon as everything is ready. Delia, please help Myne get ready."
Fran headed downstairs, and Delia came to tidy my hair. Seated before the vanity, I felt my hairpin smoothly pulled out. Holding the comb, Delia stared at me through the mirror with an expression that looked both pained and sorrowful.
"...Did you save them?"
"Yes. They even had the energy to stuff hay into their own beds."
"I see."
Even though I reported they'd been helped, Delia's face didn't brighten. She furrowed her brow and looked away as though swallowing something bitter.
"...Delia, you don't look happy. Weren't you glad?"
"I am glad, but it's frustrating. Why... why didn't anyone help me when it was my turn?"
"I wasn't here yet, so that would have been too much to ask even—"
"I know that! I know, but..."
Even knowing she was lashing out unfairly, she couldn't stop herself, and Delia raised her voice. Her pale blue eyes were brimming with tears that looked ready to fall at any moment.
Understanding just how much suffering pre-baptism Delia had endured and how desperately she had wished for someone to rescue her made my chest ache.
"I wasn't there in time for you, Delia, but next time you're in trouble, I'll help. I promise I'll really help... so don't cry."
"I'm not crying!"
"S-sorry..."
"Don't apologize to your attendant!"
"...Yes."
She rubbed her eyes roughly and denied it all. Delia had a lot of pride, so she probably didn't want to be told she was crying.
...But honestly, I thought Delia was being a little unreasonable.
For the formal occasion of my first address as the orphanage director, I decided to use the wisteria-flower-shaped hairpin that I had made for the baptism ceremony.
"What a rare ornament."
"It's the hairpin I made for the baptism ceremony. Recently, the
"...Made? You made it yourself?"
"I had help, but yes, I can make them myself. If I have the materials."
"Materials..."
Delia gazed at the hairpin with the eyes of a predator who had spotted prey. She combed my hair, and then I inserted the hairpin myself. Delia couldn't handle hairpins yet, so there was no other way.
"Myne, everything is prepared over here."
The freshly made soup had been divided into several pots and loaded onto a wagon. A few grey priests whom I hadn't met before stood behind Fran.
"Myne, these are the priests who will help carry and distribute the soup."
"That's a great help. Thank you."
"No, we are the ones who should be grateful. Lately, there have been few blessings from the gods, so everyone will be overjoyed."
"Oh my, this isn't a blessing from the gods—it's a reward from me."
"Eh? A reward?"
To the priest who blinked in confusion, I gave a bright smile and left it at that.
I was carried by Fran, and we went around through the corridor to arrive in front of the orphanage. It was a longer route than expected—the priest pushing the wagon couldn't keep up with my walking speed was the reason.
Before the door, I was set down, and Fran checked my hair and clothing for any disarray, tidying them lightly. The grey priest who confirmed everything then creaked open the door and called out in a clear, carrying voice to those inside.
"Everyone, please receive with reverence the priestess who has arrived to become the new director of this orphanage, graced with the protection of the Supreme God who rules the lofty and towering sky, and the five great gods who rule the vast and expansive earth."
Beyond the door was the orphanage dining hall. I was a little surprised that the first thing visible upon opening it was a long row of tables lined up, but since the Blessings of the Gods had to be delivered every time, and only men were permitted in the dining hall, it made sense when I thought about it.
Rows of grey-clad figures were seated in the dining hall. At the sound of the introduction, they all rose to their feet in unison and turned toward me. The sheer number of stares, appraising and measuring, made me want to bow my head and look away. But the very next moment— "Let us offer prayers to the gods and welcome her! Pray to the gods!"
The sudden collective prayer forced me not only to keep my eyes open but to stare without blinking.
"Myne, this way."
Fran took my hand and guided me to a raised platform covered with a carpet. The older priests in the front, where I could see clearly, struck impeccable prayer poses, but the smaller children in the back were wobbling and struggling to keep their balance. Much like me, really.
As all eyes converged on me after the prayer ended, Fran gently lifted me and set me on the platform, whispering softly.
"Please act like a noble."
To command the grey priests, the first impression was crucial. Just as Gil already knew, it was common knowledge among the grey priests and priestesses that I—a newly entered apprentice blue priestess—was a commoner. If I acted timid here, I would be completely walked over, so I had been warned to project noble dignity.
Chest out, never bow my head. Smile with an air of composure. The instructions were the same as when Benno had told me to accept the donation with confidence.
Fran had said with a smile, "If all else fails, lightly intimidating them with your mana tends to work. Even if they don't want to, they'll understand the difference in status." I really didn't want to be feared in a strange way, so I was hoping to get through this without using mana.
I had more or less memorized the address, but my experience with speaking before a large audience was limited to the humiliation of having to read a book report aloud in front of the entire school at Reiko's elementary school after winning some prize, and my thesis presentation.
With so many eyes on me, I trembled with nerves, slowly breathed, and touched the gently swaying hairpin. Having a hairpin made together with my whole family gave me at least a bit of courage.
"Everyone, it is a pleasure to meet you. On this fine day shining with the glory of the God of Fire,
I delivered the words of gratitude for the welcome and my future aspirations in polished, elegant language, and concluded with prayers and thanks to the gods.
"Let us offer our prayers and gratitude to the Supreme God who rules the lofty and towering sky, the five great gods who rule the vast and expansive earth—the Goddess of Water, Flutrene; the God of Fire, Leidenschaft; the Goddess of Wind,
The address that Fran had written for me appeared to be a standard formal greeting within the temple. In response to my words, the grey priests assumed their stances all at once.
"Pray to the gods! Give thanks to the gods!"
Ever since coming to the temple, Fran and the High Priest had made me practice my prayers at least once, so I had finally gotten somewhat used to the prayer pose. I still couldn't do it well, but at least I had stopped losing my balance and toppling over. I thought today's prayer was a personal best.
And once I had gotten through what was for me the greatest challenge—the address—it was time to distribute the rewards.
"Today, you all cleaned the orphanage wonderfully for my sake. I have brought rewards for you. Fran, please distribute them to everyone who worked hard."
"Understood, Myne."
Fran took out the wooden tablets and read aloud the names of those who had not cleaned. The grey priest helping distribute the soup walked past, serving soup to everyone whose name was called while avoiding those who had not been named.
Watching it, I thought it was just like a school lunch line. The same age as Gil, a boy who hadn't received any soup glared at me, his face flushed red with anger.
"That's not fair! It's not equal! Blessings from the gods are supposed to be equal! Commoners don't even know such things—"
"Oh yes, blessings from the gods are equal," I said.
The boy was saying the same thing Gil had said before. I gave him a bright smile.
"But this is not a blessing from the gods. I told you it was a reward for those who worked hard, didn't I? Were you not listening? Rewards are not equal. I'm sorry, but you don't receive a reward without doing any work. 'He who does not work, neither shall he eat,' as they say. Everyone, please remember that."
The boy, apparently never expecting to be argued with, forgot his anger and stared at me with a blank expression.
"...A...a reward?"
"Yes, a reward. Next time, work hard and you'll get one. And for those who worked especially hard, I have this as well. Those whose names were called, please come forward with a plate."
A grey priest opened the lid of the steamer that Lutz had prepared, filled with calfe butter. The warm fragrance of butter wafted out.
As Fran read the names, the priests and priestesses looked around cautiously before stepping forward with plates. One of the grey priests placed a piece of calfe butter on each plate.
"I heard you were the first to run to the children and wash them. Thank you."
"You cleaned very quickly, I'm told. Lutz was singing your praises."
"You carried the heavy loads first, didn't you? Good work."
I was just reading from my notes of the criteria Fran and Gil had shared with me, but everyone looked at me as though deeply moved. Some of them even wore the same expression Gil had worn the very first time someone praised him.
At the same time, I was struck by a deep awareness of how fortunate I was to have my family. I pictured how my family showered me with exaggerated praise even for the smallest accomplishments.
Just as my family had done for me, I now needed, as director, to look for everyone's strengths and praise them.
"Please keep up the good work. Now, please enjoy your meal."
The next day, we held a cooking class in the afternoon to teach how to make the soup.
The class was divided into groups: those who washed vegetables, those who cut vegetables, and those who filled the pot with water and lit the fire. Today's cooking instructors were Turi and
What Instructors Ella and Turi taught was how to cut vegetables. Adults with strength used kitchen knives, while the apprentices who couldn't handle those yet used smaller knives.
Since the finished soup would serve as both the reward and dinner, everyone was dead serious. Eyes bright with curiosity at the vegetables and meat they were seeing in their raw form for the first time, they washed and cut with unpracticed hands.
I watched everyone cooking for the first time in the Myne Workshop. As the blue priestess, I was allowed to observe, but Fran had strictly told me not to get involved.
I felt someone's eyes on me and turned around to see the boy from yesterday—the one who hadn't gotten any soup—stealing glances at my direction while working hard to help.
His flagrant self-assertion was endearing, so I gave him an extra generous portion of the reward fruit.
The big cleaning has been completed. Next time, I'm going to the forge for the new product.