Chapter 6

Back in my room, shivering from the cold, I read through Beginning Household Magic and On the Estena Religion—the thinnest volumes I could find among the books in the library.

There were plenty of academic-looking tomes on the upper shelves, but they looked daunting, so I avoided them. I was born in Japan, a place where magic didn’t exist. As for religion, one moment I’d be having a Christmas party, then I’d be striking the temple bell on New Year’s Eve, and finally heading to a shrine for the first visit of the year. I only knew a smattering of religious history from my high school ethics classes.

“It’s so cold I can’t even turn the pages.”

Burrowing into bed might have been warmer, but Patience’s internal “manners check” kicked in, and I gave up.

“The knowledge in Beginning Household Magic is almost identical to what Patience already knows. Well, it is for children, so I guess that’s to be expected. I’ll wait until tomorrow after I find out if I can actually use magic.”

It seemed like a very convenient system. If I can use it, I might be able to improve our life a bit. Specifically, the toilet situation. Yes, right now, it’s a chamber pot. Mary cleans it diligently, but a chamber pot is just… not it.

Searching through my memories, it seems the Granger house does have flushing toilets. But using them requires magic stones. How do I know that? Well, in the few days since I became Patience, today was the first day I was well enough to walk around the manor, but even if you’re only eating gruel, nature still calls. It’s so embarrassing!

At first, I went through a phase of thinking, Maybe I’m using a chamber pot in my room because I’m physically weak. I really felt like I was dying; I needed Mary’s help just to get out of bed… honestly, I’ve thrown away my pride and everything else. But back then, it was just “number one,” so I managed to get through it.

Then, yesterday, finally: “number two.” Doing that in a chamber pot is a bit much. So, I rang the bedside bell and called for Mary, despite knowing how busy she must be.

“Mary, I’m sorry, but please take me to the toilet.”

That’s when she told me the house’s toilets were out of order.

“We don’t have any magic stones…” she said, looking apologetic, though I was the one who felt sorry. Mary is the only maid, yet she’s handling everything—not just the nursing, but all the disposal too. I’m so sorry you have a master like me.

Anyway, Household Magic includes “Cleaning,” and if I can use that, I might be able to wash out the toilets. My goal: a civilized life!!

However, I can’t have her attending to my bathroom needs forever. First of all, I want to be able to use the toilet by myself. Even if I’m only ten, I’m still a maiden with a sense of shame.

“Oh, right—speaking of improving my life, I have to do something about these thin blankets.”

I happened to look up and realized it was getting dark. Since this must be a high-latitude region, the sun sets early in winter. Of course, even the impoverished Granger family has candles, but Patience’s memories are screaming at me that we must conserve them.

I refuse to wake up from the cold again tonight. I’ll go ask Mary if there’s anything else besides these thin quilts.

“If I recall, Mary should be… the kitchen and the servants’ workroom are in the semi-basement.”

Patience’s memories are hazy on the subject, likely because it isn’t a place for a noble daughter. But it seems she’s been there a few times. I have a memory of once making snacks there with my mother when she was alive, and the thought makes my stomach give a loud growl.

“The habit of afternoon tea was cut to save money, I see.”

When I think of aristocrats, I imagine them all dressed up having tea parties! But there’s no point in getting angry. In the current House Granger, there is no tea time. We probably don’t even have the money to buy tea leaves.

By the way, the servants’ sleeping quarters are on the third floor.

The semi-basement contains the butler’s workroom, the housekeeper’s room (though we don’t have one now), the kitchen, and the maids’ room. That maids’ room is quite large, considering only Mary lives there.

“Mary, do you have a blanket or something?”

I asked Mary, who was busy resewing my going-out clothes.

“My Lady, in a place like this… as for blankets…”

I didn’t mean to trouble her. I’m sure any extra bedding was sold off.

“Well… if it were a servant’s blanket… but that would be unbefitting for a young lady.”

What?! You have them?!

“It’s better than being cold. I nearly died of pneumonia, you know.”

I followed Mary, who held a large iron ring with several keys, to the linen closet.

“To think you’d use something so crude…”

Mary hesitated, saying it wasn’t like a daughter of a Viscount, but I was overjoyed to get my hands on a thick grey blanket.

“And for my brothers…” I started to say, but Mary had already judged that children shouldn’t be cold and, since they were boys, crude items were fine; they were already using blankets.

I’ll have her bring one out for my father, who seems to lack any life skills, as well. Even in this poverty, we’re managing to survive thanks to aid from my father’s relatives. And it would be a pity for the Angels to become orphans, wouldn’t it?

“For the Viscount… yes, I suppose so. He hasn’t been able to sleep well due to the cold.”

Exactly! You can’t let appearances get in the way of survival.

I think I’ll sleep soundly tonight.