63 — Chapter 63

The Mansion in My Absence

I’ve finally returned from the Summer Detached Palace. I pull my little brothers—my angels—into a hug and breathe them in; they smell like sunshine and soil. Hmm, have they been playing in the dirt?

“Welcome back, Sister!”

“Welcome back!”

This is heaven, but first I have to tell them what I did while I was away—oh, and I have gifts to give.

“I brought souvenirs for you both.”

When I handed them the seashells, they were overjoyed. “Sister, I’m going to look these up in my encyclopedia.” Nasius really does love to study; what a good boy. “This shell looks so cool!” Henry ran around with a white, spiky conch shell—don’t trip, now!

“We helped Matthew harvest tomatoes and eggplants!”

Matthew? Who’s that? Stepping back into the mansion, I was startled by the changes. The staff had increased by one: Matthew had been hired to assist George, the manservant. I immediately worried about whether we could afford another wage—after all, the Grangers are so poor Mary has to take side jobs and Eva once worked elsewhere just to earn a ham.

I’ll have to catch Wyatt and ask him about this.

“Milady, Matthew is Eva’s nephew, so he is trustworthy. Furthermore, you need not trouble yourself with such trivial matters.”

He brushed me off with practiced ease, so I turned to Mary. “Say, Mary, Matthew looks very young. How old is he?”

No matter how I looked at him, Matthew didn’t appear to be an adult. “I believe he said he was thirteen. If anything, he’s a bit late in starting work away from home.”

It seems there are no child labor laws in this world. Children usually start working away from home between ten and thirteen, and those from farming or merchant families often begin even earlier. Independence at thirteen—that’s early.

However, that’s the reality for commoners. For nobles, you can’t get a job or marry until you graduate from the Royal Academy.

“Sixteen, huh… Girls take the Home Economics course to prepare for marriage and then get married upon graduation.”

Boys have plenty of options: university, joining the knights, becoming bureaucrats, or helping manage estates. For girls, though, the paths are narrower—marriage or becoming a lady-in-waiting. Charlotte, the lady-in-waiting, told me that on very rare occasions a poor lower-ranking noble’s daughter might become a tutor to earn her dowry.

I have no intention of being Princess Margaret’s permanent “wake-up call,” but since she won’t wake even with a hot towel massage, I ended up waking her every morning at the Detached Palace. When the King stayed there, being late for breakfast would have been disastrous. Because of that, I grew close to Charlotte—though not close enough to ask why my father was fired.

Mary is tidying the things I brought back from the Detached Palace. I’m not helping; Mary truly loves her work as a maid.

I gaze out the window at the blue sky and white clouds. “Those aren’t midsummer clouds anymore. My precious summer vacation is almost over because I went to that palace.”

Mary looks at me as if she doesn’t understand my lament. True, the Summer Detached Palace has a wonderful location and delicious food, and I even convinced them to improve their sweets. But my brothers weren’t there. Sure, cheeky Prince Keith and adorable Prince Marcus were, but nothing beats my brothers.

The autumn term begins in mid-August—there are still two weeks left. Rather than mourning lost days, I’ll enjoy the remaining summer vacation with them.

I go to inspect the greenhouse and the backyard garden I was worrying about. The tomatoes, eggplants, and cucumbers in the greenhouse are thriving, and the rose cuttings have grown larger. “Grow big!” I give their growth a little magical push.

In the backyard, Matthew is harvesting beans. With his brown hair and eyes, he clearly resembles Eva. “You’re Matthew, right? I’m Patience.”

He takes off his straw hat and bows politely, still not quite used to the mansion. Since neither of us is used to the other, I refrain from using Lifestyle Magic to make plants grow visibly in front of him. Besides, the summer vegetables planted in the soil are growing steadily on their own.

I check the fruit trees as well. “Oh, there are apples!” They’re still small and green, but definitely apples. The pears are bearing small fruit too—even in their first year, they’ve done remarkably well thanks to Lifestyle Magic. I pick a few apples for tonight’s dessert and chant, “Grow big! Become sweet!” I can’t taste-test them now, but they’ve probably become sweet.

After handing the apples to Eva, I head to the food storage. Jars of bright red tomato sauce, green pickled cucumbers, red strawberry jam, orange pickled carrots—shelves lined with neatly labeled jars. Burlap sacks of dried beans pile on the lower racks, wooden boxes overflow with potatoes, barrels of salted cabbage stand in a row, and onions braided by their stalks hang in bunches from the ceiling.

“I have to make more preserved food. Fill the shelves.”

The memory of hunger drives me to want more. If we were in the countryside we could grow wheat, but the backyard is too small. I want to plant some kind of grain; I’ll consult George.

“Are there any grains other than wheat we could grow? Not barley, though.”

George tilts his head, probably thinking the young lady has started saying odd things again. “Does corn count as a grain?”

Corn! When I think of summer, I think of grilled or boiled corn. I hadn’t known we had it here, and you can make bread with corn, can’t you? I’ve never baked bread before, but I’ll have Eva try.

That’s right—in isekai stories, a classic trick is to make natural yeast from apples and bake soft, fluffy bread. If I remember correctly, you cut apples, put them in a clean jar, and shake it occasionally for about a week.

“I have Lifestyle Magic. Cleaning the jar and fermenting the fruit will be a piece of cake. Probably.”

Back in the kitchen, I ask Eva for a preserving jar. “Cut one apple into small cubes and put it in a clean jar. Then shake it every day for a week. But this time, I’ll apply Lifestyle Magic.”

Lifestyle Magic is so convenient. I purify the jar with “Become clean,” add the apples Eva cut, and chant “Ferment.” Sure enough, natural yeast is ready.

“Eva, try baking bread using this natural yeast. I’m sure it will turn out soft.”

The bread we usually eat at home is hard because we use cheap flour—not the pure white flour they use at the Academy or the palace. Lately our loaves have been a light brown; they used to be dark. Even whole-grain bread should become softer with natural yeast. Someday I’ll make enough money and have Eva bake me true white bread.