Chapter 6

The stage of the Katree Labor Festival is not something just any clown can climb up onto. Katree’s decline—once renowned as a luxury resort because its front yard was a cobalt-blue sea—began with the Eight-Year War.

When neighboring countries groaned under a religious war, Katree, which had profited from attracting foreign guests, took a direct hit.

Before the Eight-Year War, tourists who had fattened Katree’s wallet set fire to the chapel where we worshiped a different god, broke its windows, and stole the sapphire eyes of its stone statues.

-They even resented the chapel for ringing its bells at midnight to hold prayer time with its followers. Was it not because the followers of the Idorian faith drew swords and guns, declaring that only the god they served was justice, that lines of refugees continued? Minnestri, which had survived thanks to decades of investment in military power that yielded a formidable army and a locked border, was preparing for an unexpected boom.

For the time had come for those who had sought asylum in the land of peace before the Eight-Year War to gradually establish themselves. The border station was thronged with people wanting to see the famous sites, royal palaces, Minnestri’s unique chapels,

and ancient castles that had not vanished in the war’s gunfire. Tens of thousands of unemployed were also waiting in line, seeking work to put food in their mouths. Katree, dreaming of revival, intended to turn the atmosphere around with this year’s Labor Festival.

“Flona! Wait a moment!”

Mick, who had brought the cart to coincide with the end of class, pulled back on the reins. For lunch on my first day as a transfer student, I had been given bread and apple jam from Donica’s basket. It was my own blunder—I had forgotten my lunch basket, accustomed as I was to a maid packing it for me one by one.

“Donica. You don’t have to run.”

“No, I’m sorry… I felt like you’d vanish in an instant.”

My gaze went to the flower on her hat, which looked like a cluster of plump yellow thread. Donica, with her cute impression, fluttered her skirt of a lovely blue like a pond with floating petals and caught her breath.

“First of all, thank you for saying you’d listen to my story first instead of going to Trilla.”

The stage was not something I could choose. Look at that. I had gotten on the bad side of Trilla’s gang, who strutted about even summoning the lower grades. During lunch, only Donica and Mick’s friend Sivon kept faith and spoke to me.

The Loughton family is Olga’s godfather, and Trilla’s late maternal grandfather was a noble. But Minnestri’s law strips a family of its rights and honor the moment a noble marries a non-noble. At the academy, courtesy is observed and no distinction is made between nobles and non-nobles, but the future is different.

“Angela will come tomorrow too. Sivon said he’d build the stage with us as well.”

“Yes. Let’s do that.”

I, who had no intention of quarreling with Trilla, had ended up waving a handkerchief at a departing ship. Rather than bending my pride and pleading with Trilla, it seemed better to build this side’s stage and receive a good evaluation.

“I’m so happy. Might I hold your hand for a moment?”

“Yes.”

“How lovely your hands are, too.”

I was embarrassed by Mick’s gaze as he pretended to tend the cart while sneaking glances this way. Anyone attending the academy in Olga must be the daughter of a family with no worries about making a living, yet her eyes were envious of the bead ornaments on my hat.

“I’ll invite you next time, so do come to play. Together with your friend Angela.”

Praising Donica’s discernment, I smiled like a magnanimous lady.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Trilla’s gang, lips jutting out sullenly, let out a shriek like a jeer the moment Mick, who had been waiting in front of the cart, helped me up. So it was galling to them that I had come down to Olga and was playing at being a noble. But what was I to do about having been raised in a different background? I had a responsibility to uphold the dignity of the Moremon family in place of my sickly younger sister. It was not my concern whether someone laughed at my blood-soaked efforts or not.

“Sivon. You’re coming too, right?”

“Uh, yes.”

As the donkeys snorted and set off, the short Donica jumped up and waved.

“Goodbye! See you tomorrow!”

Pack the lunch basket generously. Write to Aunt to hire capable maids. Ask Father to fix the cart. And tomorrow, meet the girl named Angela and hear the exact circumstances. Anyway, I was listing today’s and tomorrow’s tasks in my head. Then Sivon and Mick broke into a noisy argument that I couldn’t help but pay attention to.

“Trilla had the look of someone who’s made up her mind.”

“So you’re saying the young lady did something wrong?”

“What I mean is…!”

Sivon’s voice grew so loud that the pony he was driving shook its head in surprise. When his eyes met mine as I watched the quarrel, Sivon blushed and turned his head sharply.

“Are those girls ordinary? I’m saying they won’t just let it go.”

Unable to refute his friend’s words, Mick cleared his throat unnecessarily. It was quite awkward, the two boys blushing and fighting because of me. Whether he was displeased that I hadn’t heeded the advice to beware of the Lila sisters, or displeased with his friend who had raised his voice, Sivon turned his donkey’s reins without a word.

“She was quite docile and pretty compared to the rumors?”

“Pardon?”

“It’s true. She didn’t do anything particularly nasty to me.”

Nothing except glaring at me so strangely her eyes looked like they’d burst. I wondered if the land of Olga was so small that a girl with a bad temper would have rumors spreading in every corner. Trilla Loughton was pretty as an imported porcelain doll, and her sense of choosing shirts and skirts seemed good too.

“Aren’t you too kind?”

“…Me?”

Even if I had failed to become friendly with Trilla, I couldn’t simply accept Sivon’s blunt tone. Considering how he had followed me and Donica around all day without saying much, that was especially so. Sivon, for some reason, drove his pony ahead of the cart as if speeding up and said,

“I’ll be going now.”

“Goodbye.”

Mick, whose voice had sunk as if he’d quarreled with his friend, finally tossed a remark my way after we passed the barley field.

“But Miss. Wouldn’t it be better to get along with the Lila sisters? For example, giving a gift too….”

Mick’s words meant to sue for peace with a bribe. But I, who hadn’t even clashed with Trilla, couldn’t understand the two’s oversensitive reaction. As soon as I saw the entrance of the mansion where pure white pear blossoms bloomed like billowing clouds, I shook my head.

“I haven’t done anything particularly wrong. And if I, who haven’t even exchanged a proper word with her, suddenly gave a gift, wouldn’t she be displeased?”

Above all, the nose of Trilla Loughton, said to be the richest in Olga, would pierce the sky. These days, when expenses were considerable just from hiring maids, I had no spare money to buy bribes as if bowing and scraping for her favor. Mick laughed awkwardly, saying he’d asked a needless question.

Happily descending from the cart, I received two pieces of good news. Without betraying my expectations, Aunt had sent two maids, and Father had decided to hold the banquet on a reduced scale on my birthday.

The former was a certain joy, but the latter was an ambiguous one. If one counted Katree’s wealthy, the Lila sisters’ household was highly likely to be invited. Father, whose business funds had dried up, seemed to have no mind to fuss over who was a proper noble and who wasn’t when inviting guests.

“What a relief. If the three maids I inquired about arrive in ten days, we should be able to prepare the party roughly.”

Mother, who had shown disappointment at my opinion that we shouldn’t hold the banquet, became lively again and bustled about the mansion. Mrs. Asher, who had managed the household alone, brightened as if relieved.

“Once the two maids arrive tomorrow, my role will shrink considerably.”

“If it weren’t for you, Mrs. Asher, we would truly have struggled.”

“Thank you for saying so, but… I heard you didn’t take lunch to the academy today.”

It was as good as proven that no secret survives passing through Mick’s ears. Mrs. Asher said she would take responsibility for my lunch until the maid in charge of the kitchen arrived. I wanted to offer deep thanks to my great-grandfather for selecting an excellent villa manager through the generations.

And the lunch Mrs. Asher had carefully packed for me was carried off by some wild dog. It wasn’t that I had witnessed a pack of wild dogs that frolicked in the barley field entering the academy. I had only heard tell that a wild dog had snatched my lunch basket for four days running.

“Snatched again?”

“Yes, yes indeed.”

When I muttered while glaring at my empty seat, the errand boy started and answered. I hadn’t believed the talk that a wild dog had taken the lunch basket I’d packed on the second day either.

“Ha….”

Well, well.