Chapter 119
Chapter 119
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 119
Chapter Title: The Mana Heater and Beastkin Demands
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Due to Walter's "not really a request" request, I had the heater installed in the atelier the moment November rolled around, earlier than planned.
It was only a few days ahead of schedule, but I still had to shell out a bit extra to get it that fast—no way around it.
And this wasn't some coal- or wood-burning stove. It ran on mana.
One of these cost as much as three regular heaters.
The atelier did have a fireplace, but I wasn't comfortable lighting a fire in a place full of highly flammable materials, so I splurged a little.
For the price, there was no soot, maintenance costs were comparable to cheaper models, and no risk of carbon monoxide poisoning.
However, there was one issue: you had to know how to handle mana to use it.
I thought it would just click on, but nope—you had to infuse it with a bit of mana yourself.
Buying a mana stone would solve it easily, but somehow, that felt like a waste.
"Just three seconds of mana infusion and done—why not hire someone for that?" That nagging thought kept holding me back.
"Anyone here know how to handle mana?"
My sudden cheapskate tendencies kicking in at the weirdest moment, I started scouting for staff who could manage mana right after the heater arrived.
Excluding me and Elizabeth, we had seven people, so at least one should qualify. I asked casually.
"Me."
"We can too."
""Us too.""
"What, so many?"
Way more people could handle mana than I'd expected.
Everyone except Walter and Ellen raised their hands without hesitation.
"You need to be able to light a mana lamp for ten seconds without a stone—everyone good for that?"
"Isn't that the first thing you learn when studying mana?"
"Yeah, you're right, haha..."
It stung.
Even Mari and Adelaide tilted their heads with looks like "Why wouldn't we?" which hurt even more.
I thought Mari was on my side at least...
"But why ask all of a sudden?"
Forcing a smile through the emotional damage from the mana users' innocent remarks, I trembled faintly until Prince Herbert chimed in with a question.
Perfect timing.
Otherwise, my fake smile would've cracked into a grimace like I'd bitten into something foul.
I dropped the smile, turned to the heater, and lightly tapped the top.
"This thing needs a bit of mana infused to start, so I was picking someone to handle it in the mornings."
"Do we really need a dedicated heater person?"
"Since most of you can handle mana anyway, first one in turns it on—sound good?"
"Uh... yeah, sure, let's do that."
He nodded reluctantly.
Fine, whatever—I'll just quietly set out a mana stone so anyone can do it...
_
Starting with the heater, all sorts of changes hit the atelier that November.
First off, customer preferences shifted.
Our main products were underwear, so orders focused there until two weeks ago. But as the weather cooled, inquiries for cold-weather items like stoles and shawls picked up.
Stoles and shawls could've come from anywhere, so I wondered why us specifically, but more customers are always good.
Probably because Elizabeth's stole looked extra appealing to others.
Same item, but when nobility wears it, it suddenly seems more luxurious.
Another change: word that Elizabeth would return soon.
Not exactly atelier news since it tied to His Majesty's birthday, but... good news nonetheless.
The staff's moods lifted, so that counts as change, right?
Prince Herbert and Princess Fanny were openly thrilled especially.
It eased my burden when I returned, but I'd spent over half my hours last week on the steward's commissions anyway, so I hadn't helped much...
These were all more or less expected.
The Empire's winters were mild, but cold enough to warrant precautions—not unusual.
And Elizabeth returning was just a matter of when, not if.
"Young master, another inquiry."
"From who?"
"Franz Schaus... Catus."
"Ah... Jungle Cat Tribe this time."
But the sudden flood of beastkin inquiries? That threw me off.
You might wonder how I knew without reading, but the Empire's slapdash beastkin naming conventions gave it away.
Cat: Catus. Rabbit: Lepus. Tiger: Tigris.
For tribes with tangled relations, the middle name's the tribe.
Blatantly discriminatory surnames, but too deeply entrenched administratively and culturally to change now.
With active human-beastkin mingling, they'd blend quick, but just a century ago, marrying beastkin was seen as deviant.
A very distant future indeed.
"Haa~"
I sighed, taking the letter from Emily.
No bad ones among the beastkin letters so far, but they were exhausting in other ways.
Most mentioned seeing the steward couple's headbands and tails at the masquerade ball.
Beastkin mingling with humans were starved for that kind of attention.
Like furry enthusiasts hounding rare artists like hyenas.
They pushed for closer human-beastkin ties, showering suspicious levels of interest on anything beastkin-friendly.
[...The headband and tail shown by Sir William Henry Howard were truly astonishing. You seem quite interested in catfolk tribes, so regarding our Jungle Cat Tribe's...]
"......"
Exactly like this.
They didn't say it outright, but the pressure to design new beastkin accessories or clothes had dogged me for days.
Some dumped endless TMI hoping I'd craft something tribe-specific.
Or like yesterday's dogfolk noble: "You did cats, how about dogs next?" straight-up pitching.
One tigerfolk lady warned: "Cats before tigers? Highly displeased. I trust you'll choose correctly next time."
"Damn..."
Never thought I'd be the target of suspiciously wealthy furries...
I'd hired beastkin staff without issue—they'd stayed quiet.
Who could've predicted the masquerade sparking this?
"Such a headache..."
Honestly, I didn't hate the interest.
The problem was replying.
"Great idea" meant I'd have to make it. "We'll consider" would invite follow-ups till then. "We prioritize client commissions..." and they'd show up in person.
Every option led to a furry-filled future.
I liked kemomimi girls, sure, but just a nibble now and then—not gorging.
"Elizabeth... come back soon..."
I pitifully called her name, thunking my head on the workbench.
I missed her so much.
She'd have some calm way to refuse gracefully. I lacked that poise and was going mad.
This time, since it's TMI, end with "Intriguing"?
But jungle cats and regular cats aren't that visually different.
Same sleek faces.
Jungle cats were diurnal at least—how to capture that in clothes?
"Urgh..."
"Young master."
"Customer? Who?"
Mulling how to reply as I clutched my head, Emily tapped my shoulder.
"Another letter...?"
To my listless question, Emily shook her head and pointed to the workshop entrance.
"No, a customer this time."
"Customer...?"
A surprise guest with no prior notice drained me instantly.
Head already pounding from letters, now this unannounced arrival—blissfully happy, really.
So happy, just 30 minutes into work and I wanted to clock out.
"Ha... so who?"
"Wants to commission the atelier... but I think you need to see them yourself."
"See in person...? Ugh..."
Rubbing my neck, I stood.
What kind of person had Emily looking so troubled...?
The ducal folks starting trouble again?
"I heard you were looking fo—?"
The moment I stepped out of the workshop, I spotted slightly rounded animal ears and long hair streaked with yellow and black.
Followed by a strikingly vivid red dress.
Not sure the exact tribe, but the coloring screamed leopard, jaguar, or tiger.
"Mm..."
Caught off guard by the sudden beastkin woman, I frowned without finishing my sentence.
"Are you Sir William Henry Howard?"
"...Yes, I'm Sir William Henry Howard, knighted."
"Hmmm..."
A beat late with my intro to her question, and she narrowed her eyes, scanning me head to toe.
"I figured the guy sending such evasive letters was some sly fox, but surprisingly, you've got honest eyes."
"......"
That "evasive letters" line sent unease crawling from my toes.
"Gulp..."
Clinging to hope it wasn't dire, I swallowed and mustered courage to ask her.
"First off, thank you for visiting our atelier, milady. May I ask the purpose of your visit today?"
"I'm Henrietta Maria Tigris. I came in person to ensure you make the right choice."
Tigris. Right choice...
A certain haughty tigerfolk miss's letter flashed in my mind, chills racing down my spine.
"Ahh..."
I sighed, pressing my temples hard.
Please no, I'd prayed desperately—why'd she actually show up...?