Chapter 37

During the weekend, I went strawberry picking in the greenhouse with my brothers. I’ve been doting on them since they were just sprouts—protecting them with straw and giving them plenty of care—so seeing them grow into bright red, jewel-like berries was incredibly satisfying. Plus, getting to see Nasius and Henry shouting “Delicious!” made me so happy. They are seriously adorable!

Reflecting on the time I gave them a “sugar high” with the pancakes, I made sure not to let them eat too many at once. It would be awful if they got a stomachache.

“Only five each for now. Don’t eat them all at once. Here, Henry, put them in the basket. I’ll make something yummy with them later.”

I can see “I want more” written all over their faces, but the answer is no. Besides just eating them for dessert at dinner, I’m planning to turn them into jam. Preserved food is a necessity, after all.

Arriving in this other world during winter was truly grueling. I want to secure as much preserved food as possible before this year’s winter hits.

Since then, I’ve been whisked away several times on Fridays in the carriage Princess Margaret uses to return to the Palace, where I’ve had to play the Hanon for Queen Victoria. It’s nerve-wracking and I wish she’d give me a break, but every time I leave, I get a basket full of eggs, butter, and sugar, so I figured… “Eh, why not?” Plus, it saves me the rental fee for a horse once a week. That’s huge!

Sometimes I use the gifted eggs and butter for sweets, but other times I just have them cooked for regular meals. And I’ve been planning to use the stockpiled sugar to make jam. I want to see the pantry lined with preserved foods.

Now that it’s spring, I’m going to make a garden in the backyard. Patience is making a fuss about tending the roses in the front garden, but that can wait. I never want to be hungry again. It reminds me of that old movie about the Civil War—the protagonist clutches the soil and vows, “I’ll never let my family go hungry again.” I feel exactly the same way.

“I will never let anyone in the House of Granger go hungry again!” And not just my family, but the people serving us poor Grangers too.

The backyard has been neglected and is completely overgrown. George managed to keep the front garden presentable so we wouldn’t be embarrassed, but he can’t do it all alone.

“Weeds, be gone!”

I’m worried if a spell like that is okay, but I chant it while imagining the weeds being pulled and the ground turning into bare brown earth. Lo and behold, the ground became perfectly clear. The weeds are all gathered in one spot. I could probably make fertilizer if I set up a compost bin, but I’ll leave that part to George.

I picked up a fallen branch and traced a rectangle on the ground. I plan to turn about two-thirds of the backyard into a vegetable patch. There are original trees along the back fence, and I want to plant fruit trees in front of them—apples, pears, cherries. Citrus might be impossible since it’s too cold. I saved up the money for seedlings and seeds through my side jobs. However, I’m worried if I’ll have time for side jobs next year. Taking two courses in Middle School sounds busy.

“Isn’t there a way to earn more money?”

I feel like I’ve done nothing but think about money since I came to this world. I guess in my previous life, my parents worked to raise me. I never knew the struggle for money. And yet, I went and died before them. I’m sorry.

But I have an older brother and sister back home, and they’re both married with children. I was the youngest, and I always wanted a younger brother; I was a total sucker for cute kids.

Wait? Was I chosen because there’s no real harm in me being gone? Or because they knew I’d dote on these brothers since I love kids? There seem to be monsters in this world, but I don’t think I came here to subjugate them. I only have Household Magic, after all.

Did I come here just to save this poor House of Granger? It really is my father’s fault for being unemployed. I bet my family back home was sad… hmph.

No use getting angry. I have to do what I can.

“Form into furrows!”

In this spot, I’ll plant staple vegetables like beans, potatoes, onions, and carrots. Once the strawberries are done in the greenhouse, it’ll be time for summer vegetables. I want to turn tomatoes into sauce and jar them. Pickled cabbage can be a preserve too. It’s going to be a busy season.

But buying jars and condiments like vinegar takes money too. As expected, darning socks is just too low-paying. Time to negotiate directly with Wyatt!

“I’ve received my certificate for Art. But I want to paint more. Wouldn’t it be fun to do miniature paintings on tea sets or something?”

Wyatt seemed to think for a moment, but he agreed. However, I can’t do that at the Academy. I could carry socks in my bag, but ceramics are heavy.

I really need to find something that pays better. I picked up some old items in the attic, thinking if I could do anything with them.

“We have plenty of curtains; maybe I should turn them into bedspreads to sell? Or maybe these old dresses… if I make them like new, could they sell?”

I might restore and resew the old dresses to wear myself when I’m a bit bigger. For now, the Academy uniform is fine for most things, but I’ll need them after graduation. The hand-me-downs from relatives were only children’s clothes. Well, that makes sense; they gave them away because children outgrow them.

“This dress isn’t my mother’s. It’s much older.”

The design is different from the dresses I see at the Palace; it’s much puffier. It’s an old-fashioned style, but it uses a lot of fabric.

I picked up a dress covered in lace and thought.

“Lace is expensive, isn’t it? If I make handkerchiefs out of this, wouldn’t they sell for a high price?”

Princess Margaret and my schoolmates have handkerchiefs with lace edging. Mine doesn’t. But if I use the lace from this old dress, I might be able to manage.

That said, the lace on the dress isn’t made for handkerchief edging. It’s too bulky and not long and thin. But the thread is the same, right?

“Turn back into thread!” I tried turning it back into thread first.

“Become fine lace tatting!” I chanted while picturing the lace edging on Princess Margaret’s handkerchiefs.

“Whew, that was actually exhausting.”

Dozens of meters of lace edging were created in a coil. It was many times more tiring than making furrows in the garden. It must be because it’s such detailed work. I cleaned an empty box, carefully wound the lace inside, and went back to my room. Now all I have to do is involve my co-conspirator Mary and make handkerchiefs with lace trim.

Handkerchiefs with lace edging were much more profitable than darning socks. Plus, I can do this side job at the dormitory too. Score!