Unable to get a single word in, my request was shot down, and I couldn't understand what the Chief Priest was saying at all. To be told there was "no reason to improve things" after he already knew the wretched state of the orphanage—it was completely beyond my imagination.
"No reason to improve things? What do you mean? Young children are starving on the verge of death. In a place that's nowhere near fit for raising people..."
Maybe I hadn't conveyed the situation properly. Growing anxious, I tried to explain the scene I'd witnessed today to the Chief Priest.
But the Chief Priest raised his hand lightly, cutting off my explanation.
"If they're working Gray Priests, Shrine Maidens, or apprentices, that's one thing, but there's no spare money to spend on orphans who haven't even been baptized. Perhaps you don't understand because you were born and raised under such parents, but the
Since children couldn't take on jobs until after the Baptism Ceremony, I'd vaguely suspected something like this might be the case. But even if they weren't recognized as people, that didn't mean they deserved to be treated that way.
"...So you're saying it's fine if those children die?"
"Ah, that too must be part of the guidance of the gods. To speak frankly, fewer numbers are easier to manage."
I'd wanted him to deny it, but instead he casually confirmed it. While I stood there dumbfounded, the Chief Priest began explaining about the Gray Priests and Shrine Maidens still remaining in the orphanage.
"There used to be more than twice as many Blue Robes. Attendants and Attendant Apprentices too—simply put, double. If each Blue Robe had an average of five to six attendants, do you have any idea how many attendants were left behind when they returned to noble society?"
If a dozen or so Blue Robes left, that would leave sixty to seventy attendants behind at the Temple all at once. The Temple's structure had been supporting those attendants through donations and living expenses from the Blue Priests, so it wouldn't be surprising if the finances collapsed.
"As domestic servants for the nobility, we sold off about thirty unnecessary Gray Priestesses and Priests, but there are still too many Gray Priests."
"Couldn't those surplus Priests look after the smaller children?"
"If I let them look after the children, their numbers would increase, and that would be a problem. What do you think the High Priest got rid of the Gray Priestesses for? You don't seem to understand what I'm saying."
Now was the time when Blue Priests and Shrine Maidens were at their fewest. In a few years, their numbers would grow again, so having absolutely no surplus would clearly become a problem. But the Chief Priest said he wanted to avoid any further increase when the gods' blessings were already insufficient.
"...At the very least, couldn't we do something about the cleaning? In such an unsanitary state, an epidemic wouldn't be out of the question."
"Hmm. You mean to say, since it's unsightly, we should just bury everything out of sight? There's some room to consider it, but the reputation wouldn't be good."
"That's not what I mean! That's not what I—"
I swallowed the urge to shout, "How did you get that from what I said?!"
The Chief Priest and I stood on completely different footing, with fundamentally different common sense. Our words reached each other, yet we couldn't understand each other's thinking.
"Chief Priest, what is the orphanage for? Isn't it a place to raise children who don't have parents?"
"Slightly different. It's a place where, through the generosity of the nobility, children with no one to look after them are raised to serve the nobility."
Our understanding of the orphanage was far too different. Sympathy, wanting to help—even these feelings didn't reach the Chief Priest.
Sensing his own irritation at my failure to understand his position, he let out a soft sigh.
"If you want to do something for those who are headed toward death, then you should do it yourself. Will you become the director of the orphanage—a position no one wants—and take full responsibility for everything concerning it?"
His unexpected words made me catch my breath. I wanted to help the orphans, but taking on the orphanage and bearing full responsibility for everything? I didn't have the courage for something that terrifying.
"...I can't."
Clenching my fists tightly, I slowly shook my head.
The Chief Priest gave a single "Hmm," then fixed me with his gaze and pressed further.
"Then, considering the previous ratio of Blue to Gray, the orphanage can be kept satisfactory with the gods' blessings at roughly forty people. You have the most disposable money of all the Blue Robes in this Temple, but are you saying you can prepare meals for the remaining forty-plus orphans?"
"...I can't. It's almost all Workshop money. I personally have almost no money I can spend freely."
Even just considering the room renovations and attendant salaries, I'd honestly already spent too much. The money from selling recipes kept things barely at break-even. The Italian restaurant hadn't even started yet, and there was no clear outlook for future income. There was no way I could take on the orphans in my current situation.
"If you can't bear the responsibility, can't provide the money, and can't do anything, then stay quiet. This isn't something a child should be interfering with based on half-baked righteousness. Stop thinking unnecessary things and just quietly read the books you like."
The Chief Priest's argument was so reasonable that I couldn't retort. I had no right to complain when I couldn't do anything. In many cases, doing something half-hearted was worse than doing nothing.
"...I'm sorry for taking up your time."
With my head hung low, I left the Chief Priest's room.
I'd asked the Chief Priest, and he'd told me no. There was nothing more I could do. I just had to stay quiet. Even as I told myself that, my stomach felt heavy as if I'd swallowed lead, churning inside me.
"My lady, would you care to visit the Library? It might help lift your spirits a little."
"...Fran, you knew this was going to happen, didn't you?"
"It was my job to gauge the Chief Priest's feelings. Therefore, I did think the result would leave you feeling down. Please forget about the orphanage."
Fran took my hand and led me toward the Library. While reading, I could immerse myself in books without thinking about unnecessary things.
But in no time at all, the sixth bell rang, and it was time for
On the way back to my room, the orphanage was visible from the corridor whether I wanted to see it or not. In that instant, that scene spread through my mind, and nausea surged up.
"Guh..."
The moment I gagged, I clapped a hand over my mouth, desperately holding back from throwing up. Panicked, Fran scooped me up and ran, thrusting a cleaning bucket in front of me.
As I vomited toward the bucket, I wanted to break down crying right then and there.
There was no way I could forget that intense scene.
If I could keep reading forever, maybe I wouldn't have to think about it. But during the times I wasn't reading, it would inevitably come to mind.
During Reina's time,
But knowing that my room was connected to the orphanage, separated by just a wall from orphans living in that state—there was no way I could carry on with life as if nothing were wrong.
"My lady, how did it go?"
"I'm sorry, Gil. The Chief Priest rejected the request."
"W-why?!"
As if he couldn't believe it, Gil stared at me in distress. Not only could I not help the orphans in that condition, but I'd also failed to meet Gil's expectations. It was all too painful. I fixed my eyes on the floor and steeled myself for whatever Gil would say next.
"Gil, behave yourself."
"Geez, you're so dumb. I told you it was useless to get your hopes up!"
Fran and Deria both tried to restrain Gil. He probably wanted to say something, but he bit his lip hard and looked down, just like me.
While preparing my change of clothes, Deria shrugged knowingly.
"The one who caused that situation was the High Priest—she said pregnant Shrine Maidens who couldn't work were useless and got rid of them first. There was nothing the Chief Priest could do about that."
"Deria."
"It's the truth. The Shrine Maidens who were pregnant or had just given birth were the ones taking care of that place, but since it would be a problem if there were more, they were the first to be disposed of. But when guests came, they needed Gray Priestesses to offer flowers, and when one got pregnant she had to be replaced, so they had to keep extras on hand."
Deria said that the Gray Priestesses and Apprentice Shrine Maidens currently left in the orphanage doing laundry and cleaning work were all young and reasonably attractive. Pregnant or birthing Priestesses had been disposed of, unattractive ones had been sold off as noble servants, and only the flower-candidate Priestesses remained in comfortable numbers.
That was the result of keeping only those the Blue Priests needed.
Men didn't get pregnant, so well-educated Gray Priests had sold well as noble attendants up until now. But since the nobility themselves had decreased in number, demand had dropped and they couldn't be sold anymore, so now there were more surplus Priests than Priestesses.
"Wait, doesn't that mean the children in the orphanage are children of Blue Priests? Don't they have noble blood?"
"...I'd say about half of them do? I'm one of them myself."
Deria said this casually.
"Huh? Then Deria, you have Magic Power too?"
"If there's too great a difference in Magic Power, it's supposedly harder to have children. So apparently, among those who can have children at the Temple, the Blue Priests involved are only those with extremely low Magic Power, and if you have a child at the Temple, you can't return to noble society, I've heard."
And now, the Blue Priests remaining at the Temple were all the ones with low Magic Power.
The sheer self-centeredness of their operations made my head and stomach ache.
"The High Priest is the one who decides how the Temple is run, so it's better to be on her good side than to go against her. Now then, gentlemen, please leave. I need to help my lady change."
With a shooing wave of her hands, Deria sent Fran and Gil out and swiftly began helping me change.
"My lady, you look worse than the orphans. Why don't you just forget about it? No matter how much you worry, you can't do anything anyway."
As she spoke, Deria efficiently changed my clothes.
It wasn't that I couldn't do anything. If I poured all of the Mine Workshop's funds into it, improvement should be possible.
But I was scared—scared of the fact that neither the High Priest nor the Chief Priest was seeking improvements to the orphanage, scared that when the money ran out things would revert to how they were before, and scared of having to bear full responsibility for the lives of the orphans. That fear kept me from finding the resolve to commit the funds.
"Lutz! Lutz!"
"Mine?!"
I clung tightly to Lutz, who had come to the gate to pick me up. The instant I did, tears overflowed like a dam breaking. Maybe it was relief at having returned to a place where my common sense held sway.
Lutz reflexively stroked my head while turning his gaze toward Fran, today's escort.
"Fran, what happened?"
"I'll explain as we walk."
Fran glanced briefly at the gate guards, then began walking.
As we hurried through the city streets along the route home, Fran explained what had happened today.
"She said all she could do was ask the Chief Priest, and if it didn't work through, she'd give up. But my lady's feelings don't seem to accept that."
"...It's hard to stomach, knowing those kids are on the verge of death. But there's nothing Mine can do about it, right? Don't worry about it. Just forget it."
For me, who had lived relatively peacefully despite being poor, that scene had been too intense to simply put aside.
"I keep thinking the same thing—I wish I could forget. Not knowing would have been fine. But knowing that on the other side of just one wall from my room, things are that way... there's no way I can forget."
As I sobbed these words, Lutz stopped walking and peered into my face.
"Mine, the thing that bothers you is how bad the orphanage is, right? What do you want to happen?"
I pictured today's scene. I thought about what the orphanage should be like, then opened my mouth.
"...I want those children to eat their fill and grow up. I want them to sleep in clean futons instead of in that dirty, smelly, bare straw that looks like it'd make them sick."
"Huh? Eating your fill is something only rich people can do, isn't it? Normal food that lets you move around energetically is plenty. Even I can't eat my fill at home."
Hearing my words, Lutz said I was aiming too high. I reflected on my own life at home and realized I'd been thinking about the orphanage's operations through the lens of the Temple's noble lifestyle.
I'd forgotten because lately I'd been eating delicious meals to my heart's content at the Temple, and even at home the budget had loosened up a bit. But even among the lower-town children, not many could eat their fill. Lutz himself had been hungry for a long time and still lost the mealtime battles with his brothers.
"So I don't need to eat my fill after all..."
"But why are you the one trying to provide all those meals? First, they should go out and get their own food, right? If you're hungry, you don't just sit there and wait—you go get something!"
I'd been thinking completely separately from my own common sense because the Temple was a special institution. But if I aimed for the same standard as the lower-town children, the financial burden would drop significantly. For the food they couldn't buy, they could go to the forest and gather it themselves.
"I'm afraid orphans are not permitted to leave the Temple."
Fran voiced this concern with a troubled look. Orphans were basically confined to the orphanage. Before the Baptism Ceremony, so that nobility wouldn't have to see anything unsightly. After the Baptism Ceremony, presumably so they wouldn't pick up unnecessary knowledge or common sense.
Unlike me, who fell silent at Fran's words, Lutz—who had barely any exposure to the Temple's common sense—tilted his head.
"Hey, who decided that orphans can't go outside? If they're being treated as unwanted, would anyone really make a fuss about them going to the forest? Fran and Gil go outside the Temple all the time."
"Fran and Gil go out because they're my Attendants. They're a special case."
The only reason they could was because I commuted to the Temple and they escorted me—that was their job. It was treated the same as when Gray Priests accompanied Blue Priests to the Noble District. They weren't free to come and go.
"Then just make all the remaining ones Mine's Attendants! That way, they'd all be able to go outside, right?"
"...What?"
At Lutz's unexpected proposal, I blinked multiple times and looked up at him.
"Just a moment. That's a bit much... My lady couldn't possibly provide food, clothing, and shelter for all of them, could she?"
"If you want them to go outside, you'd have to buy clothes for everyone, but forest-going clothes could be bought cheaply at the secondhand shops we use. That'd be plenty."
I mentally calculated the cost of cheap secondhand clothes for everyone and knives and baskets for some of them to go to the forest. Obviously they couldn't all drop the Temple's chores and go to the forest together, so if they divided into groups and rotated, the tools needed would be minimal.
"...Fifty or sixty cheap secondhand outfits, plus knives and baskets for some of them to go to the forest—that's cheaper than the three outfits I bought for Fran."
Fran's eyes went wide at my words, and she looked down at the clothes she was wearing. The garments I'd bought for my Attendants were high-quality—nothing compared to my everyday clothes at home.
"They should take them to the forest, have them gather food, and make them handle things themselves. An orphanage with no money means it's poor, after all."
Lutz's way of putting it was blunt, but he was right. Instead of just waiting to be given things, they should learn to manage for themselves.
"I've sent Gil and Fran to
"...Yes, that's correct."
"Then couldn't I send my Attendants to gather Forin from the forest?"
At my words, Lutz's eyes sparkled.
"The Mine Workshop
"Yes. If I turned the orphanage into a branch of the Mine Workshop and had them make things to earn their own keep, then even in the worst case, if I were gone, there might not be any more children starving."
Actually, maybe it was better to start by having them go to the forest, gather food, and learn to cook.
While Lutz and I discussed what would be efficient and where to begin reforms, Fran interjected with a strained expression.
"I think it's a very good idea. ...However, my lady. This would be completely different from how the Temple has operated until now. The Chief Priest would question whether you can shoulder the responsibility for that many people. Are you sure you'll be all right?"
The blood drained from my face.
Fran was right. I, this foreign element, suddenly ignoring custom and upending the orphanage—it was hard to imagine only good results would come of it. There would likely be friction with the High Priest, the Chief Priest, and all the Blue Priests. And if I had them work at the Workshop to earn money, there was no way everyone would end up equally treated.
"Sorry, Lutz. I'm scared of bearing the responsibility..."
"Then, Mine—which is scarier: doing nothing and waiting for the orphans to die, or taking on that responsibility?"
"..."
Both were terrifying. If I abandoned those orphans, I felt like I'd carry that leaden weight in my stomach forever. But bearing responsibility for people's lives—there was no way I could do that.
Lutz lightly shrugged his shoulders as I gently pressed on my stomach.
"Hey, Mine. Don't overthink it. Just try it, and if it doesn't work, you can stop."
"Lutz, 'just stop'... their lives are on the line?"
I glared at Lutz with a frown, but he snorted just like Benno would.
"Workshops losing business and shops with bad sales go under all the time, you know? But if you run it as the orphanage, even if the Workshop goes under, the workers won't end up on the streets, right?"
"...Their home would be the orphanage, and they'd at least get the gods' blessings, right?"
"If there's nobody ending up on the streets even if the Workshop fails, what's there for you to be responsible for? Besides, when Mine Workshop runs things, I'll be there too!"
I imagined there would probably be many times when responsibility was needed. If Benno were here, he might have a very different opinion about the responsibilities of a Workshop Head.
But somehow...
I felt it would be all right as long as I was with Lutz.
Doing it alone was scary, but if Lutz—who had been with me all this time—was there too, I unconditionally believed we could manage.
"Let's do it together, Mine. You want to help them, right?"
"Yeah!"
Watching me grab the hand Lutz offered, Fran smiled with a look of helpless fondness.
"I'll help too, my lady."
The one who always pushed me forward was Lutz.
For now, I'd worked up the motivation.
Next time, I'll negotiate with the Chief Priest about the Mine Workshop Orphanage Branch.