Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Experiential Learning (1)
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First, I needed to correct some of her misconceptions.
"Lady Tiona, noble status is inherited through bloodline. Do you know what that means?"
"...If a noble has a child, that child becomes a noble too, right?"
"Exactly."
Of course, things get far more complicated when you dig deeper. There are issues like marriages between classes or inheritance laws, and systems vary by country—or even by era within the same country.
But there was no need to explain all that right now.
"Once someone is born a noble, they virtually never lose that status. Especially you, Lady Tiona—no matter what you do, you're still a noble of the ducal house."
"...Is that so?"
"Yes. Even if you went out, pulled weeds, lived in a tent, chugged cheap wine at night, and slept on the dirt floor, you'd still be a noble."
That's the nature of rights bestowed by birthright.
"...So His Grace isn't trying to completely cast me out."
"No, he's not. See? Now it's clear."
The father-daughter relationship between the duke and Tiona wasn't normal or healthy.
But...
"...Huuuuuuh."
I couldn't bring myself to say that to Tiona, who let out a deep sigh of genuine relief.
She wasn't ready to face that truth yet.
"I understand now..."
"Do you also understand that even if you do manual labor, you're still a noble?"
"That's what you're saying! Hmph!"
"Good."
I wiped the tears and snot from her face with a tissue.
"Blow your nose."
"Pffft!"
I helped her to her feet.
"Now, let's go do that experiential learning I mentioned earlier."
Maid outfit.
In my original world, you'd only see something like that in shops catering to special tastes or at cosplay events. But in this world, where maids were active professionals, it was just their everyday work uniform.
And of the two maids working here, Croa's build was similar enough to Tiona's.
"No way! I don't wanna, don't wanna, don't wanna!!"
I held Croa's maid outfit up to Tiona's thrashing body.
Sure enough, it would fit well enough for a one-day job experience.
"I just explained it—you won't stop being a noble just because you try working."
"I get that!"
"...Then why are you acting up?"
"But...!"
But?
"It seems like it'll be hard!"
"...Hmm."
If she's never worked a day in her life, that reaction makes sense. Even in my old world, kids raised pampered thought part-time jobs would break them.
In that case...
"How about trying the outfit on first?"
"Muuu..."
Tiona stared holes through the maid outfit. If looks could burn, it would've had scorch marks.
Anyone watching would think I was forcing a prison uniform on her, not a maid dress.
If she believed labor equaled unbearable suffering, her reaction was understandable.
"What if I wore it? How would that look?"
It was out of left field, but there was a set response for moments like this with women.
"It'd suit you well."
One of my magic mentors taught me a golden rule.
When a woman asks if an outfit would look good on her, always say yes.
Even if it looks so terrible that lying about it would haunt your conscience forever? Still say yes.
The only exception is if you're close enough that you can tell her no, then immediately go buy her a new one together—and you actually can do that right then.
I have no idea why she taught me that, then always asked if her robes suited her.
"R-Really? You think it'd look good on me?"
"Of course."
"Better than this dress?"
"This dress suits you well too."
"Heh... Hehe? Really? Hehe, Arthur, your eyes aren't half bad, huh?"
Tiona picked up the maid outfit, her lips twitching upward.
"Haa, fine! If Arthur's begging that much, I'll graciously accept!"
I stepped out, and when I said it was okay to come back, in walked Tiona in the maid outfit, peeking at herself in the mirror before turning to me.
"H-How do I look?"
"...It suits you well."
"Why'd you hesitate!?"
"No... I mean, it suits you even better than I expected."
Honestly.
Tiona's golden blonde hair and blue eyes created a striking contrast with the black-and-white maid outfit. It looked great.
"Hehehe...! Of course it does!"
Tiona placed a hand on her chest with elegant poise (well, she tried anyway) and twisted her body this way and that.
"...What are you doing?"
"Striking a pose for you!"
"Not avant-garde performance art, then."
"What's avant-garde?"
"Makes me wanna teach you night soil farming."
Anyway.
"Let's give it a try."
"Try what?"
"The labor experience."
Before Tiona could start whining "no way" again, I spoke first.
"Not long—just one hour. And if it gets too tough midway, you can rest or quit altogether. No problem."
And then.
"The experience will be 30 minutes of cleaning, then 30 minutes helping with cooking. If we do that..."
"If we do that...?"
"I'll bake brownies for you again."
"Julp!"
Did our lady have an on/off switch for her salivary glands? How did it start drooling so instantly?
"Got it!"
Of course, I didn't just toss household tools at Tiona and tell her to figure it out. This place could've ended up with irreparable damage.
I couldn't leave it to the maids or Cynthia either. This was education, and education was my job.
Logically, that meant I had to assist directly with both cleaning and cooking.
"Let's clean the living room."
I pulled out a broom and demonstrated.
"This is a broom. You use it to sweep dust."
"So cool!"
"Give it a try."
"Hya!"
"That just kicks up all the dust. Do it gently."
"Like this?"
"Much better."
Next was mopping.
"It's sparkling!"
"Don't jump around."
True to our agreement, after 30 minutes of cleaning, we started making brownies.
Baking is notoriously finicky, but brownies used few ingredients and didn't need rising, so it was almost impossible to mess up unless you tried.
"The key ingredients are these: flour, chocolate, butter, sugar, and eggs. We'll add a bit of vanilla and cocoa powder too."
"Chocolate! Gimme!"
"This is dark cooking chocolate. You eat it after it's in the brownies—"
"Nom... Ack!? Cough, cough!?"
"I told you it's bitter..."
Tiona's teeth marks were left clearly on the big chunk of dark chocolate—distinct enough to tell her incisors from canines.
Since we were cooking anyway, I wiped off the drool and put it back.
"First, sift the flour and cocoa powder."
"What's flour made from?"
"...You've seen wheat fields before, right, Lady Tiona?"
I'd gone to the castle in Krishantimaiu ducal territory after seeing the duke's posting for a home tutor. The area around it was full of wheat fields, so she must've seen them.
"Don't you remember seeing fields turn golden in autumn?"
"...That's wheat?"
Tiona suddenly puffed up proudly.
"Hmph! No way!"
"...Why not?"
"It's yellow! But this flour is white! See, Arthur!?"
"Looks like today isn't just for job experience. We might need a field trip too."
"Why!?"
The reason was obvious.
Tiona's worldview was terribly narrow.
She wouldn't have said that if she'd gone down to the fields, seen wheat ears up close, picked some by hand, and watched it turn into white flour at a mill.
'Her intelligence isn't the core issue.'
Now that some time had passed since meeting Tiona, I could say it outright.
The root of all her problems... was neglect.
Not just a lack of affection, but the severe kind where no one cared what she ate or did.
Neglected, she lacked experience and knowledge in every area. Her world was tiny.
That stunted her thinking, and seeing only the same servants kept her from building social skills or maturity—her mental age didn't grow.
Reading only romance novels biased her further, breeding prejudices and stereotypes easily.
And neglected, no one corrected her.
But time passed, her body grew, and she aged.
Her current state—indistinguishable from low intelligence on the surface—was the accumulation of that neglect.
But.
Our lady had hope.
Teach her multiplication tables, and she'd memorize them at a normal pace.
Tell her to think from another's perspective, and she'd grunt and try.
She was lacking across the board, but improving everywhere.
Someday, she'd reach a normal intellectual level for her age.
Hard to picture, but.
No—she had to. Or she couldn't save the world.
"Wheat has a yellow husk, but inside it's white. That's why flour is white."
"Whoa...!? I didn't know!"
"We'll go see it ourselves next time."
Knock knock.
"Teacher."
Cynthia whispered.
Well, she probably meant to speak normally but was trembling so hard from fear it came out as a whisper.
"O-Outside, th-the M-M-Magic Tower Master is h-here for you—Eek!?"
Ignoring the notion that permission was required to enter, a tall, well-proportioned woman strode inside.
Wearing the pointed, wide-brimmed hat permitted only to true witches, she spotted me and reached out with a bright smile.
"Fireball."