68 — Chapter 68

On Friday we were to visit the Royal Palace. Meeting the Queen is always nerve-wracking, but I was a little glad this time—Henry’s birthday was coming up.

“The social season is quite busy in autumn, so I haven’t had many opportunities to meet with you, but I am aware that you are serving well as Margaret’s lady-in-waiting.”

I was pleased to be praised, but what I really wanted to ask was whether Princess Margaret would continue living in the dormitory. I tried to “Google” Patience’s memories to find out at what age one debuts in society, but the answer was vague: most young ladies debut between fourteen and sixteen. Having lost her mother early and grown up in the impoverished Granger household, a social debut might have been a distant dream for her.

Princess Margaret will enter middle school next year and turn fourteen. That’s an age when a debut is possible. I don’t know how many parties she’ll attend or how many will be held, but it would be better if she commuted from the Royal Palace—after all, the dormitory doesn’t have the dresses or accessories required.

Still, I’m a spineless coward who lacks the nerve to ask the Queen. She’s frightening. I’ll ask Princess Margaret about the social debut when she’s in a good mood. I’m just a timid soul. Hmph.

I expected the usual two baskets of eggs, sugar, butter, and cream, so I was surprised to see a large box loaded onto the carriage. When we arrived at the mansion I stepped out empty-handed while Sophie carried the baskets and the groom hauled the box inside.

A young lady must pretend indifference about a box’s contents, even if she’s dying to know. That said, the moment Sophie boarded the carriage back to the palace, I had Wyatt open it.

“Milady, this is monster meat. It appears to be Big Boar and Fire-Eating Bird (cassowary). They are the Viscount’s favorites.”

Wyatt actually looked happy, which was rare. Monster meat probably hadn’t appeared on the Granger table for years.

I’ll have Eva cook it. For an instant I felt glad to be Princess Margaret’s lady-in-waiting. My little brothers could eat delicious monster meat—and since it’s apparently the Viscount’s favorite, I’d give my father some too.

So, starting Saturday morning, I baked a birthday cake for Henry and myself. I also baked the pear tart I’d promised Nasius. Since I’d told him on his birthday that you blow out the candles while making a wish, I needed two cakes.

I handed the pear tart recipe to Eva and had her make it. The base was tart dough—no sponge—topped with plenty of custard cream and thinly sliced pears arranged neatly before baking. Eva is very good at slicing things thinly.

Henry’s birthday cake was the same as the one I made for Nasius, but this time I used a piping bag for the cream so the decoration was a bit more elaborate. I wish I’d had a metal tip for it too. When I join the Alchemy Club, maybe someone who can do metalworking will help me. If I can skip a grade and enter middle school next year, I’ll decide after taking an alchemy class.

Lunch was magnificent: corn cream soup, Big Boar steak (thinner than the one at the High Dining Hall), and freshly picked vegetables. It couldn’t have been more different from the meals I had when I first reincarnated—watery, tasteless soup, thin hard bread, and ham so sliced it was practically transparent.

Wyatt and Mary brought in the two cakes.

“Lady Patience, Master Henry, happy birthday.”

In reality, mine had been two days ago and Henry’s wasn’t for another ten.

“Henry, you have to blow out the candles while making a wish.”

Henry blew them out with such a serious face I almost wanted to ask what he was wishing for.

“Lady Patience, your turn.”

My wish was already decided.

‘Please, let the Granger family never go hungry again, and let us never freeze.’

I had never blown out birthday candles with such earnestness. It was a matter of life and death, after all.

Applauded by the family and the servants, we sliced the birthday cake.

“Delicious!”

Henry is already seven. He’s grown so much, I thought, sinking into sentimentality.

“Sister, this pear cake is incredibly tasty.”

There were two types of cake; I’d had them cut into thin slices so everyone could try both and we’d have more for dinner. Eva slices things so thinly and beautifully.

Nasius seemed to truly like the pear cake. Henry liked both—cream and custard smeared on his cheeks.

“Happy birthday, Sister. Happy birthday, Henry.”

I received a birthday letter from Nasius. I was so happy I decided to keep it as a treasure.

“Patience has turned eleven already. Children really do grow up fast.”

My father was sentimental too. More than that, though, I wished he would find a job.

At the time, I thought he was just being sentimental about my turning eleven. I didn’t consider any other implications. In my previous life eleven was a sixth grader—a child. I knew the marriageable age was earlier in this world, but I assumed it had nothing to do with the impoverished Granger household.