Wine and Brandy
—Rumble.
That was the sound that echoed through the prayer room as I sat there, trying to swallow my embarrassment after finishing my confession.
It wasn't my stomach. It must have come from Mace, who was sitting right next to me.
"My, Ain. You must be hungry."
"I'm pretty sure that sound came from you, Sister."
Mace had already returned to her usual cheerful self.
The moment I stepped out of the confessional, she was beaming as if nothing had happened.
"I'm not hungry at all, but if you insist, I suppose I could accompany you for a meal."
"Pardon the intrusion. Goodbye."
As I turned to leave the prayer room, Mace immediately began rattling off her laundry list of grievances behind my back.
"Ah... I'm not hungry at all, but even so, just because I wanted Ain to sleep well, I lent him my lap, sang him a lullaby, took my very first day off since coming to the Academy, and even listened to his confession..."
"I'll buy you dinner. Let's go."
"Yay! Let's go, quick! Remember, I'm only going because you begged me, okay?"
With the noisy, hyperactive Mace in tow once again, I left the Academy and headed out into the streets.
"Is it really that good?"
"Divine..."
What Mace was eating was just a run-of-the-mill stew you could order at any cheap tavern in the Empire.
It barely had a few scraps of meat, was packed with wilted vegetables, and the broth was pale and watery.
It was the kind of stew I wouldn't eat even if it were free, yet Mace was savoring it with sparkling eyes as if it were a rare delicacy.
"It's just stew from a run-down tavern, how can you..."
Hearing my words, the tavern owner standing by the table began to sniffle while wiping a plate.
I felt a little guilty. But honestly, this place really was a dump.
It was still too early for drunks to be out in full force, so Mace and I were the only customers.
The restaurant I had visited with Iris was closed.
Left with no choice, I had picked the most decent place I knew.
But then again, I never visited eateries unless it was to drink.
And so, the place we ended up at was this crumbling tavern, barely a step up from a pile of ruins.
The floorboards creaked underfoot with every step, and the chairs and tables were stained yellow with age.
Mace, however, didn't seem to care about the state of the establishment. She was entirely focused on devouring her stew.
"I told you, you could order something more expensive."
Mace shook her head side to side, her cheeks stuffed with food.
She had to be getting paid by the Academy, so it wasn't like she was starving.
Was she just living frugally, as expected of a clergy member?
As usual, I ended up just sipping my alcohol.
I wasn't hungry in the first place.
I had only humored her stubbornness to show a bit of gratitude.
Even if she brushed it off playfully, my gratitude was genuine.
She didn't even notice the food smudged around her mouth, so I reached over and gently wiped it off with a napkin.
"What on earth do you usually eat?"
"The ration bread they hand out. It has a texture very similar to paper."
Mace replied, setting down her spoon.
Did she finish it already?
The bowl was licked so clean I could see my reflection in the bottom.
"...And how do you know what paper tastes like?"
"I used to tear off pages and eat books back when I was at the abbey!"
"Good grief..."
Do they call orphanages 'abbeys' where you come from, Sister?
I swallowed the question that rose to my throat, unable to bring myself to ask it.
"What about the salary the Academy pays you?"
Mace pulled a few silver coins from her pocket and showed them to me.
"This is for this month."
"You're joking, right? You can't even afford proper meals with that."
The garbage stew she just ate cost a single silver coin.
It was a byproduct of the disastrous, skyrocketing inflation in the post-war Empire.
There was no way she could afford anything sold at the Academy cafeteria.
"It's fine. We get ration bread anyway."
The Academy was really keeping Mace around out of sheer obligation.
They treated her worse than a dog.
In fact, the maintenance cost for a pedigree dog in the Academy's kennels was probably higher than Mace's salary.
The sense of shared misery was starting to hit a little too close to home.
Yet Mace, simply happy to have a full stomach for once in a long time, swung her legs back and forth from her chair.
"I'm going to drink some more, so you should head back first. Want me to walk you?"
"Nope. I want to stay with you longer, Ain. I took the day off, after all."
"...I'm really sorry about that."
Instead of answering, Mace just offered a bright smile.
As if trying to ease my awkwardness, she pointed at the glass in my hand.
"You aren't even eating. Do you really love alcohol that much?"
"It's the light of my life, the fire of my soul."
My meal for today was Blackhand Cognac.
The sweet aroma of grapes spreading in my mouth and the burning sensation as it slid down my throat were exquisite.
Even in a run-down tavern like this, commercial liquor could be ordered as long as you had the coin.
What a wonderful world to live in. Not that I particularly want to live in it, though.
Perhaps because it was my first drink in a whole half-day, I could already feel a slight buzz.
Even so, it was barely enough to loosen my tongue, which usually remained stiff without alcohol.
"It smells like grapes. But the color is different from wine."
"Want a sip? Though it might be a bit too intense for a maiden—no, a nun."
At my provocation, Mace narrowed her eyes and puffed out her cheeks.
She then raised a finger toward the owner, mimicking what I had done earlier.
"Give me the same thing!"
"Well, well. Is a nun allowed to drink in broad daylight?"
"I got curious watching you drink, and I'm annoyed because a certain someone is treating me like a child."
Mace glared at me as she spoke.
So this is how she reacts when she's teased openly.
This is fun as hell. I should tease her every chance I get.
...Wait, looking at her petite frame and youthful face, she didn't look old enough to drink at all.
"Sister, by any chance, how old are..."
"How rude! You shouldn't ask a lady her age!"
Despite her words, Mace repeatedly folded and unfolded her fingers to show her age.
"...You're a year older than me?"
"Ahem! So this is what it feels like to have a younger brother! Ain, don't you have anything you want to say to your big sister?"
Talk about false advertising. No wonder she felt so warm and comforting, making me want to lean on her.
Though the only actual sister I had was a stutterer who pretended to be normal in public but was utterly useless when I actually needed help.
"Have you ever even had alcohol before?"
"I've had a sip of communion wine during mass!"
Brandy and wine only smelled similar; they were completely different beasts.
In any case, the long-awaited glass was finally placed in front of the older sister nun.
Like most hard liquors, brandy had an incredibly high alcohol content despite its sweet, fruity aroma.
Even a heavy drinker like me usually held a sip in my mouth and let it trickle down slowly.
Unless, of course, I was facing a situation where I wanted to lose consciousness immediately, like yesterday.
So, watching Mace chug the liquor right in front of me as if it were water, I expected her to either spit it back out in about three seconds or start coughing with tears and snot running down her face.
Clack.
"Delicious!"
"......?"
The sound of the glass hitting the table echoed, and Mace licked the remaining liquor from her lips.
The glass was completely empty. Just like her stew bowl from earlier.
What the hell, did they water it down?
I was pretty sure she had ordered the exact same thing as me.
Just in case, I glanced at the owner, who was staring at Mace with a look of sheer disbelief that mirrored my own.
What is this? Creepy.
"...Are you okay?"
"Huh? It tastes like a sweet juice. It's yummy!"
Has her life been that hard?
Or did she have a severe sensory disorder in her taste buds?
Her tongue was definitely broken, like those psychopaths who put pineapple on pizza.
"Are you feeling tipsy—no, dizzy?"
"The room is spinning!"
It seemed her brain was functioning slightly better than her tongue.
No sooner had she spoken than her head began to bob back and forth.
I ordered a glass of water and forced it down her throat as she squirmed and protested.
Once she drank the water, her erratic movements calmed down a bit.
Instead, her eyes grew half-lidded, resembling mine when I was sleep-deprived, and her tone became strangely subdued.
Her cheeks, already naturally flushed, turned as red as ripe apples.
"Ain... I can say it now. I'm dizzy."
"I can tell, Sister. Let's pay and head back to the Academy."
"I keep tasting something sour. What does that mean?"
"It means you're screwed. Tell me if you're going to throw up. I'll leave you behind and run."
As I stood up and fumbled in my pockets, Mace tightly grabbed the hem of my coat.
Her hand was tiny, barely half the size of mine.
"I took the day off, so it's fine. Even if we go back late."
"Sister, how many of these do you see?"
I waved two fingers in front of her face.
"Eleven?"
"You're completely wasted..."
Yet, I couldn't stop her as she struggled with both hands to pull me back down into my chair.
There was nothing more futile than trying to use force against a drunk.
Besides, I had no desire to see unspeakable things erupting from every orifice of her body because I pushed her too hard.
"Ain, now that I think about it, we've introduced ourselves to each other."
"Boss, check please. How much is it?"
"So why do you keep calling me 'Sister, Sister' instead of using my name?"
"Because you are a nun. And a teacher, at that."
Mace grabbed me by the collar and began to shake me.
The warm scent of grapes brushed against my face every time she opened her mouth.
"Call me by my name. Hurry. Ahhhh. Do it now."
"Let's go back to the Academy, Mace. Happy now?"
The moment she heard her name, reluctantly uttered, her grip on my collar slowly loosened.
Looking down at Mace, she had her head bowed, murmuring something to herself.
"...core."
"Pardon?"
Mace clutched my coat with much weaker strength than before and spoke once more.
"My name... encore..."
Mace's cheeks were dyed in a deep shade that resembled roses rather than apples.
"...Thank you for today, Mace."
"...Hehe."
Seemingly delighted to hear her name, she grinned and quietly followed me out of the tavern.
Since her steps were stumbling just like mine had been this morning, I gently took her hand.
As we stepped onto the street, the cool air brushed refreshingly against us.
Every time Mace touched me, I couldn't help but notice that her body temperature was the exact opposite of Giselle's.
The warmth, enough to make my palm slightly damp, didn't seem to be solely from the alcohol.
Even on my way back home alone after dropping her off at the prayer room, the hand tucked inside my pocket remained warm.