The Banshee’s Prophecy Of Death (2)

“Oh my…”

“Of course, only if that’s agreeable to you.”

“But, um, I can’t afford to pay you.”

“You don’t have to pay anything. However, I’d appreciate it if you could help me with some work.”

Cassie looked terrified, as though she expected me to impose some outrageous demands on her. She asked anxiously,

“What kind of work would that be?”

“I’d like Noah to continue with his usual work. And if there’s anything your daughter can help with, I’d appreciate that too.”

“Lydia-san, I’ll work really hard!”

Noah declared firmly.

“I’m counting on you, Noah. Cassie-san, can you embroider?”

“Embroidery?”

“I’ve heard that most women around here know how to embroider.”

“Y-yes, I do.”

This region was famous for its linen production, and apparently, the embroidery done on that linen was another local specialty. I particularly liked the charming, brightly colored floral designs.

Embroidery might sound expensive, but because the designs were stitched onto linen or cotton, even I could afford to use these products every day.

I used embroidered tablecloths, table runners, doilies, sofa covers, and cushions. They were especially popular with merchants who arrived from foreign countries in caravans.

More and more guests had been asking to buy them, so I’d started purchasing extra supplies. They sold surprisingly well.

I always told them that the general store in town had a much wider selection, but apparently, seeing the items arranged and actually being used made people want them.

“Table runners, individual tablecloths, and little drawstring bags for potpourri are particularly popular. They sell incredibly well.”

“Is that so…?”

“All the embroidery I had at home has been bought up, so I decided I might as well embroider some myself and purchased plenty of fabric. Unfortunately… it seems I’m not particularly good at embroidery.”

I’d thought it would be a pleasant way to occupy myself during the long winter and had given it a try, but all I’d managed to do was get blood all over the linen. I hadn’t finished a single piece yet.

“Oh my.”

“So, Cassie-san, would you be willing to do some embroidery for me?”

“Embroidery is something I’m good at. If that’s the sort of work you need, I can do as much as you like.”

“That’s reassuring. I’ve been wanting to add some small embroidered designs to the bedding at the inn for quite some time. If possible, I’d love for you to take care of that as well.”

Cassie’s eyes lit up.

“Oh, how lovely! I’d be delighted to.”

“Wonderful. But please don’t overwork yourself. Your health comes first, especially for your children’s sake.”

Cassie bowed deeply to me.

“Lydia-san, thank you so very much. I was supposed to work as a maid doing menial labor at the fortress. I was worried about whether my body could withstand such demanding work, but it was the only job that would allow the three of us to make a living… If you’ll let us stay here, I’ll do anything. Although, um, I’m afraid I’m not very good at heavy labor…”

“Heavy labor happens to be my specialty. I’ll leave the needlework, which I’m terrible at, to you, Cassie-san.”

“Yes! I’ll do my best.”

She smiled as she spoke.

Noah and Mirei had been watching my conversation with Cassie anxiously the entire time, but when they saw her smile, their own faces brightened.

“Mom, are we going to live here?”

Mirei asked Cassie excitedly.

“Yes, sweetheart. We’ll be staying here for the winter.”

“Yay! I’ve never been in such a big house before! It’s like a castle!”

Mirei exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement.

The wind was still blowing fiercely outside.

I decided that we would wait until tomorrow to notify the fortress that Cassie wouldn’t be taking the job.

Hopefully, I’d be able to find a traveler heading toward the fortress tomorrow. Otherwise, I’d ride Olivia there myself.

With everything settled, I decided to prepare lunch.

For soup, I made cream of cauliflower.

There were still some of the ham and sauerkraut sandwiches and boiled eggs left over from the provisions I’d prepared for them earlier. I decided to use those as the basis for some new sandwiches.

I mixed eggs, white wine vinegar, olive oil, a little sugar, and salt to make mayonnaise. Then I combined the mayonnaise with mashed boiled eggs and added the mixture to the sandwiches.

I also added cheese and sun-dried tomatoes that I’d rehydrated in oil, creating hearty sandwiches packed with delicious fillings.

The children were absolutely fascinated by my kitchen and wanted to watch me cook.

When I told them to stay away from the stove because it was dangerous, they obediently watched from a distance, hardly daring to breathe. What clever, well-behaved children.

“Lydia-san’s cooking is really delicious!”

Hearing Noah say that to Mirei, I secretly swelled with pride.

Just as we were about to eat,

“Is the proprietor here?”

A visitor arrived.

It was none other than the black-haired man and his brown-haired companion.

About two weeks had passed since their previous visit.

“Proprietor, I’m here. There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

The black-haired man approached as soon as he saw my face. He glanced at the dining table and spoke.

“My apologies. Were you in the middle of a meal?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, but would you mind waiting a moment? I’ll prepare some tea.”

“No, there’s no need to hurry. That looks delicious. Let us have some too.”

“I can quickly prepare more of what we’re having, if that’s all right with you.”

He said he didn’t mind, so I found myself preparing lunch for two additional guests.

First, I served them the cream of cauliflower soup I’d set aside for second helpings.

While they ate, I made their sandwiches.

Still, I doubted that would be enough to satisfy them.

I decided to make some chicken and vegetable étuvée.

I cut the chicken into bite-sized pieces and sautéed them in a frying pan, browning the skin. Meanwhile, in a separate pot, I placed onions, carrots, potatoes, and other vegetables cut into manageable pieces, along with mushrooms and garlic. I sprinkled everything with salt, covered the pot, and cooked it over low heat. By the time the vegetables had released their moisture, the chicken had finished browning, so I transferred it to the pot, added white wine, and let everything steam together until the chicken and vegetables were cooked through.

I also served elderflower tea to help ward off colds.

“That looks delicious.”

After the two men had finished their lunch, the black-haired man spoke to me.

“Proprietor, there’s something I’d like to discuss…”

Apparently, it was a confidential matter, because he briefly glanced toward Cassie and the children.

Cassie immediately understood.

“Well then, we’ll be in the other room.”

She took the two children and withdrew into the back of the house.

Once the three of them were gone, the black-haired man bowed his head to me.

“Thanks to you, we’ve been saved. You have my gratitude.”

“What do you mean?”

I couldn’t remember doing anything to help the black-haired man. I’d certainly given him somewhere to stay, but he’d paid the proper price for his accommodations. Surely that didn’t count as saving him.

Had he mistaken me for someone else? I wondered.

However, the brown-haired man was nodding in agreement.

The black-haired man continued.

“You probably didn’t intend it that way, but you’ve been an enormous help to us. Do you remember serving me scones?”

“Ah, yes.”

His question only confused me further.

The scones I’d made that day had turned out exceptionally well.

But was he thanking me because the scones had been delicious? Had he really come all this way just to say that?

“Do you remember our conversation about baking soda that day?”

“Oh, yes. We did discuss that.”

The black-haired man lowered his voice slightly.

“For some time now, nobles from the royal capital have been attempting to buy up land around here. Strangely enough, the land they wanted was so poor that it couldn’t even be used for farming. Something about it didn’t sit right with me.”

“We’ve been keeping a close eye on the situation, since it would be disastrous if they managed to monopolize our water sources or something similar. But we couldn’t quite figure out what they were after…” the brown-haired man added.

“What they wanted was baking soda.”

“I see.”

“This territory of Goran is the only place in our country where trona is mined. Well, perhaps there are other deposits, but this is probably the largest source. Apparently, research into refining baking soda has been progressing in our country as well. The land they’ve been buying up contains deposits of trona. Thanks to you, we finally managed to get to the bottom of it. Those pigs in the royal capital nearly made off with everything right under our noses.”

The black-haired man spoke with obvious resentment.

“Ah…”

It wasn’t something I could say too loudly, but relations between the royal capital and the frontier territories weren’t particularly good.

Many nobles deliberately withheld information gathered in the royal capital from the frontier territories, hoping to manipulate affairs for their own benefit. The frontier lords had been forced to swallow bitter disappointments time and again.

“We also have limestone in our territory, the other essential ingredient for producing baking soda. Eventually, we should be able to manufacture it right here.”

“That’s wonderful.”

If baking soda became a domestically produced commodity, it would presumably be distributed at a somewhat lower price. That would make it easier for me to get my hands on some, too. It was certainly welcome news.

“If you hadn’t told us about it, we might have been too late. Thank you.”

“Not at all. I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

Even as I said that, I couldn’t help marveling inwardly.

He’d managed to gather an astonishing amount of information from that rather dubious conversation we’d had just two weeks earlier. The margrave certainly had some excellent knights in his service.

The black-haired man had called the nobles of the royal capital “pigs,” but the nobles in the capital had their own nickname for the Margrave of Goran’s frontier territory: the Ravenous Wolf. The name referred to a wolf with an insatiable appetite.

“Anyway, I’ve come because there’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

So said the knight serving the Ravenous Wolf.

“Er, what would that be?”

“If you still have any baking soda, I’d like you to spare us a little. We’ve sent a messenger to the royal capital, but apparently, they’d like to examine an actual sample as soon as possible, if one is available. I’d also like the recipe for your scones.”

“Oh, certainly. That’s no problem.”

I stood up and retrieved the jar of baking soda from a cupboard in the kitchen.

Then I went to my room and returned with my recipe notebook.

“Scones… scones… Ah, here it is.”

I opened the notebook to the page containing the scone recipe and copied it onto a sheet of paper.

The black-haired man casually leaned over to peek at my recipe notebook.

“Did you write all of this by hand?”

“Yes, I wrote it myself. While I was recuperating… Ah, well, back when I had a lot of free time, I copied down the recipes for every dish I could think of that I wanted to eat.”

The food at the knights’ hospital where I’d recuperated from my injury had been terrible.

Before that, I’d never been particularly interested in food, but the moment I found myself unable to eat whatever I wanted, I developed an overwhelming craving for delicious meals. Determined to eat to my heart’s content once my injury healed, I’d immersed myself in cookbooks from the hospital library.

By then, I’d already been told that returning to active duty would be difficult. With my future shattered, such ridiculous pursuits had been the only way I could distract myself.

At first, I’d only been interested in eating, but eventually, I developed the desire to try cooking for myself.

Some of the recipes had been copied from cookbooks in the royal capital’s library, while others I’d written down after asking professional chefs to teach me directly.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call the notebook my treasure.

“This is remarkable.”

The black-haired man praised my notebook.

“It’s only an amateur’s hobby, really. I’m sure professional chefs have plenty of much better recipes.”

“No, this is quite impressive. Thank you for sharing one of your precious recipes with us. I’d like to reward you somehow. Is there anything you want?”

The black-haired man made the offer, but I hadn’t done anything particularly significant.

“Oh, no, I haven’t done anything that warrants a reward…”

I was about to finish speaking when something suddenly occurred to me.

They were knights.

“In that case, there is one favor I’d like to ask. Do you happen to know any of the knights stationed at the border fortress?”