Chapter 67
Chapter 67
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: Learning to Write
Thankfully, Merthesia hardly ever turned up her nose at food.
Was it because she never shied away from a challenge?
Even with brand-new dishes, she'd sniff them for a moment before accepting them without fuss.
She truly was a wonderful child.
Thanks to that, I could experiment freely with her meals without much worry over planning her diet.
'I'm the picky eater here...'
Every time I read parenting books, one passage always made me pause.
'A guardian's eating habits greatly influence the child.'
It always hit me right in the gut, so I'd fidget with my teacup unnecessarily.
Merthesia ate well, but I grimaced the instant things touched my tongue more often than not.
Meat.
Sweet foods.
Pancakes.
Anything that melted in the mouth.
Humans these days called them delicious,
but I needed serious mental preparation just to put them in my mouth.
'I eat gems without complaint, though.'
Moments like this made me think there was no helping the differences between species.
If I were human, maybe I'd enjoy them more.
Maybe I could share Merthesia's favorites with her.
Thoughts like that always left me feeling a bit regretful.
I cracked a fresh egg into a bowl.
The earlier musings faded with the sound of the shell breaking.
Cooking had become routine now.
I whisked the eggs, seasoned them,
poured oil into the pan, and stirred to keep them from sticking.
Omelets were one of Merthesia's favorites that I could actually eat alongside her.
Maybe that's why
she seemed especially thrilled whenever I made them.
"……!"
"That exciting, huh?"
"!"
Even now, she was bouncing around happily with the rabbit in her arms.
Yet her eyes sparkled as she kept peeking toward the kitchen.
Her cuteness drew a chuckle from me.
"Be ready soon."
"……!"
Merthesia approached cautiously.
Her toes together, on tiptoes, clutching the rabbit tightly with both hands.
Her eyes brimmed with anticipation and excitement.
I flipped the omelet.
I used to botch it, but now I nailed it in one go.
As I plated the finished omelet, her eyes grew even brighter.
"Want to sit first?"
"……!"
"Put the rabbit down."
She hesitated a moment,
then nodded and climbed onto the dining chair.
The little friend settled at her feet the instant it was freed from her arms.
"There, all done."
"!"
"Start without me. I'll be right there."
"……."
I wanted her to eat it warm,
but even when I said that, Merthesia would wait until I joined her.
She seemed to value sharing the meal more than the food itself.
I made my own omelet too.
The best part of omelets?
You could pack them full of mana-rich ingredients.
Herbs,
mana mushrooms,
bits of gems.
All hidden inside the egg, easy to swallow without objection.
Truly convenient and efficient.
"Done."
"!"
I succeeded on the first try again.
I usually took it in stride, but
with the pressure of teaching her to read and write today, even this small win brought relief.
'Loren was praying while clutching that lavender hair tie the other day.'
It felt like the same vibe, and I couldn't help but smile softly.
"Let's eat."
"!"
Only then did Merthesia pick up her fork.
She must have been starving—her movements were busier than usual.
As she cut into the omelet, white cheese oozed out steaming hot.
"!!!"
"Yeah, I loaded it up. You like it, right?"
"!"
Merthesia nodded with a beaming smile.
Her little mouth chewed twice, three times.
Her cheeks puffed alternately left and right.
Her eyes widened round, then curved into crescents.
"……!"
"Tasty?"
"!!!"
Merthesia nodded vigorously, stomping her feet in delight.
A high-pitched hum of a tune came from beside me.
I slowly took a bite, listening to her joyful melody.
The soft texture was still tough to get used to,
but it wasn't too sweet or salty, so I could manage.
Above all, it was packed with mana.
"It's good."
"……."
"…Huh? Curious about mine?"
Merthesia stared at my omelet and nodded.
Nothing special.
Her being curious about my food, though.
"Here, just one bite."
"!"
Today's had a few gems mixed in,
so I scooped a tiny bit and carefully checked the fork for anything hard.
"Here."
"!"
"Good?"
"?!?!!?!!!?!?!!!!"
That face—
it was the same as when she took her morning medicine.
Tears welled in Merthesia's wide eyes.
Lips pressed tight, brows furrowed,
cheeks puffed, then she clapped her hands over her mouth.
And then, very slowly,
as if savoring the world's bitterest taste, she chewed laboriously.
"…Sorry."
"……."
"Want some water?"
"!!!"
Merthesia stuck out her tongue with a pitiful groan.
I hurriedly handed her water,
and she gulped it down, clutching the cup with both hands.
"Better?"
"……."
Her head nodded slowly, very slowly.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The somewhat noisy dinner ended.
Now it was time for today's most important task.
Teaching Merthesia to write.
Was I tense?
Merthesia, sitting before me, swallowed hard while hugging her rabbit tight.
"…Ready?"
"……!"
Her eyes held a resolute glint.
Hard to believe this was the same child who'd smiled over the omelet moments ago—she was that serious.
Good.
Whenever she made that face,
it signaled she was changing, little by little.
I let out a short sigh to shake off the last of my nerves and pulled out the textbook.
It contained small picture cards.
Loren had recommended them.
Start with illustrated cards to learn words, she'd said.
I picked up the apple card.
Perfect—she was eating one now,
so starting with something familiar would ease her in.
"Merthesia."
"?"
"This is an apple."
"……."
"You can't speak yet… Want to try copying it?"
I handed her some paper.
Merthesia stared intently at the word on the card.
Soon her tiny hand gripped the pencil and began filling the page.
"……?"
"Yes, you're doing great."
"……."
Not quite starting from scratch, but.
Merthesia was writing from right to left, top to bottom.
So the letters started turning strange.
"??????"
"Uh…."
"?????????"
"Hmm, how do you even read this."
Should I demonstrate writing slowly first?
As I pondered,
Merthesia's pencil moved busily again.
A moment later—
a perfectly drawn apple sat roundly on the page before me.
"You drew it well."
"!"
"…Maybe showing with pictures is clearer."
Was it my careless mutter?
The next card,
and the one after,
Merthesia skipped copying the letters and drew the pictures instead.
"Hmm…."
"?"
"You draw… really well, but…."
House,
egg,
acorn.
They were detailed and adorable enough for picture cards themselves.
The problem was,
this was letter-learning time, not drawing.
Stumped for a moment, I showed her the acorn again.
"This is 'acorn.' Try writing it?"
"……."
"Not the picture—the letters. Like this."
I took paper and slowly wrote it out for her.
Merthesia nodded, concentrating.
Thankfully, she started copying the letters this time.
"……."
"Yes, good job."
"……?"
"Oh, you added an extra line. It's fine, we can fix it."
"……."
As the shape warped again, Merthesia's lip jutted out.
She moved her writing hand aside,
and the pencil danced busily once more.
Acorn tree.
Acorns fallen beneath.
The girl child and rabbit gazing at them.
Anyone could tell it was today's walk.
The rabbit even had its harness, patterns and all—clearly drawn from memory.
'She draws so well.'
I decided not to stop her.
She was so focused.
'At least she understands what an acorn is.'
I watched the drawing take shape, then chuckled softly.
With just the word "acorn,"
Merthesia had relived the whole day.
In terms of grasping the letters, it was perfect.
The issue was she needed to use them too.
This was for communicating with a speechless Merthesia.
Pictures excelled at recalling memories, but
they fell short for explaining situations or expressing intent—time was the limit.
'Not many will wait while you draw a whole picture.'
Then Merthesia looked up.
Having finished and set down her pencil, she gazed at me.
"You drew it great. That's what happened today, right?"
"!"
"But, Merthesia."
"……?"
"This is letter-learning time."
Merthesia eyed me cautiously.
Drawing wasn't bad, but it strayed… quite far from the goal.
Her face fell, fingers fidgeting.
"Hmm… Let's try easy words."
"……?"
"My name should be simple, right…."
"?!"
Merthesia's eyes lit up.
She seemed hooked.
Her eager nodding was adorable, drawing a chuckle from me.
"Good. Here, I'll show you."
"……."
"Like this. If it's hard alone, want to do it together?"
"!"
I wrapped my hand around her tiny one holding the pencil.
And then,
very slowly,
repeating patiently so she could learn.
We wrote my name together on the paper, over and over.
"Like this."
"……."
"Got it?"
"……!"
"Yeah. Try it. I'll keep teaching even if you mess up."
I released her hand.
Merthesia stared at the paper, tense.
Her eyes trembled, but her resolve shone clear.
"It's okay. Take your time."
"……."
"I'll wait."
The pencil moved again.
Still crooked,
each stroke shaky with uncertainty—but
clearly,
copying my name.
First letter.
Second letter.
"Oh…."
"……."
Before, she'd jump to pictures or her own style.
This time, no hesitation—she followed the proper order perfectly.
An outstanding result.
"Good job, Merthesia."
"……!"
"Yeah, that's my name."
The hesitation faded from her face.
A spark of confidence bloomed.
"Great job."
"!"
"Let's try another."
"……!"
As I reached for a card, curiosity struck.
Her vocal cords were fine, they'd said.
She just couldn't speak due to psychological reasons.
'She copies letters right away too….'
On a whim, I taught her how to say my name.
"Merthesia."
"?"
"My name goes like this. Vibrate your throat and shape your mouth like…."
"……."
But
her mouth merely opened silently, no sound.
I gently stroked her head.
"Sorry. I rushed it."
"……."
I shuffled through the cards again.
Letters first and foremost.
Next was the rabbit card.
This one, she'd learn willingly.
"Good. Merte…sia?"
"?"
"Uh… you wrote it well…."
While I'd looked for the card,
the paper was covered in my name.
Lots of practice, it seemed.
Each letter carefully, deliberately.
I didn't mind the effort.
"Need more paper."
"……!"
"Yeah, practice with that for now."
I stood and headed to the study.
Only after opening the door did I feel the smile creeping onto my face.
Probably the first time I'd seen my name written so many times.
"…Row."
"Huh?"
My step halted as I entered the study.
A voice fainter than an autumn breeze brushed my ear.
I looked at Merthesia.
"Did you say something?"
"……?"
"Right…."
I left the writing Merthesia behind and entered the study.
Like Mr. Hubert's habit,
maybe I was getting senile.
Or perhaps, deep down, I'd hoped the child would speak.