Chapter 7

There are still so many areas in need of lifestyle improvement, but my stomach announces that it is time for dinner. I attempted to head to the dining room, but Patience’s internal check intervened.

You mustn’t go to dinner without changing!

Come to think of it, in British period dramas, the aristocrats always changed for dinner. Over there, they had lavish banquets; here, I don’t expect a meal worth the effort of changing clothes for.

In the twilight of my room, I pulled out the only other dress hanging in the wardrobe.

“This looks freezing…”

It has long sleeves, but they are made of lace. There shouldn’t be lace in weather this cold. It makes me want to cry.

“Can’t I just wear it over the clothes I’m already wearing?”

Patience violently rejected the idea with a mental “No!”, so I shivered in the unheated room as I changed into the dress with lace sleeves.

“Ugh… so cold. I have to get to the dining room quickly…”

Patience’s vanity is acting up again, insisting that I brush my hair and set it perfectly.

Seriously, did the original Patience really die? I feel like she’s still very opinionated.

That said, my years as an office lady in Japan weren’t for nothing. Even if I overslept, I could change, put on makeup, and leave my apartment in ten minutes. At the aged dressing table, looking into a cloudy mirror that hardly reflected anything, I brushed my hair and pinned half of it up. I secured it with the only hair ornament I found in the drawer.

Blonde hair, blue eyes—I could even be called quite cute, but unfortunately, I’m far too thin. My eyes look sunken and bulging.

To think the day would come where I’d think, “I need to get fat!” It’s a first in my life. Not that I have time to dwell on such sentiments.

“My Lady… I am so sorry. Your preparations…”

Mary came rushing in. Ah, according to Patience’s memories, Mary usually helped her change before dinner.

“It’s alright.” After all, I’m already having Mary do everything for me.

But Mary looked truly dejected.

“Tomorrow, I shall arrange your hair myself before we depart for the church.”

I see—she wants to perform her proper maid duties. Mary does the work of a kitchen maid, but she is a lady’s maid by trade.

I told her I’d leave it to her tomorrow and hurried to the dining room. I had acted cool and given my thin slices of ham to my brothers earlier, but now my stomach is growling incessantly. Besides, even if it’s early, the dining room has a fireplace.

My father was already seated in the dining room. Apparently, there is indeed a dress code; he wore a black jacket and a tied white cravat. That black jacket was also shiny from being frayed at the elbows and elsewhere.

“Ah, Patience. Let us begin dinner, then.”

In the morning and at lunch, Father had remained seated, but the moment I entered the room dressed up, he stood to greet me. I wish he’d spend more time on something that earns an income rather than maintaining such formalities.

“But Nasius and Henry aren’t here yet…”

The butler served a thin soup, just like in the morning. Even the service was different from breakfast and lunch; usually, it was Mary. More importantly, there were only two sets of cutlery on the table.

“Lady Patience? The children do not dine at the evening table.”

Seeing my confusion, Wyatt the butler answered in a low voice. I quickly “Googled” Patience’s memories. It seems children up to age ten eat dinner in the nursery. In wealthy noble households, a governess or nanny would feed them for every meal. In other words, only because the Granger family is poor were we able to eat with the Angels in the morning and at noon.

Thin soup, thin ham, hard bread. So far, it was exactly like lunch, but to my surprise, a dessert appeared.

“Apples, My Lady.”

Thinly sliced apples served with a bit of cheese. Also, wine for Father and tea for me. It’s so weak! Everything Eva cooks is “thin.” This needs improvement!

“Tomorrow at the church, you should simply keep your heart calm and take the aptitude test.”

Conversation with Father doesn’t exactly flow. I really want to ask why we are so poor, but Patience forbids it. Apparently, it is unacceptable for a daughter to ask her father such a rude question.

Unlike in the morning and afternoon, the fire in the hearth wasn’t extinguished immediately, but I was worried about my brothers and left the dining room early. I have no governess, so I was worried about whether they had even been fed.

In the nursery, my brothers were already in bed.

“Sister, you came?”

A candle was still lit by the bedside. They seemed to have only just gotten into bed.

“Yes, I had to say goodnight to Nasius and Henry. Did you eat your dinner properly?”

“Yes, the apples were delicious.”

“I love cheese.”

It seems they are being fed properly. I feel relieved. I suppose the servants who have stayed with the impoverished Granger family are trustworthy. I’ll still have to have a talk with Eva—whom I haven’t met yet—about the “thin” food, though.

Under the boys’ quilts were grey blankets. If they sleep together, they should be warm. I tucked them in properly, said “Goodnight” to the Angels, and kissed their foreheads. Bliss!

“Don’t blow out the candle,” the younger Henry pleaded.

“Winter is coming. It will be dark many days even during the noon, so we must conserve,” Nasius’s wise words almost made me, his big sister, burst into tears.

“I’ll come back to blow it out later. Go to sleep until then.”

I really “have to do something about this!” Oh, I wonder if even my casual thoughts are becoming “Patience-fied.”