Chapter 68
Chapter 68
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: A Gift for the People
The leaves that had once been green had completely vanished.
Red,
Yellow,
Orange.
The leaves dyed in all sorts of colors
announced that it was right in the heart of autumn.
A fierce wind blew.
Leaves came falling down rustling.
The fallen leaves scattered like rain from the sky and gently settled on the ground.
“...!”
Merthesia opened her eyes wide and peered out the window.
Then, as if wanting to show her little friend as well,
she scooped up the rabbit and scurried over to the window.
The little friend cradled in her arms lifted its head, completely clueless.
“...”
“Huh? You want me to look too?”
“!”
Merthesia pointed out the window, her little body bouncing excitedly.
No words were needed; her expression said it all.
I slowly rose from the rocking chair where I'd been reading the cookbook.
The view outside was pure autumn.
Morning sunlight filtered down through the falling leaves.
“Pretty, isn't it.”
“!”
You like it?”
Merthesia beamed a bright smile and nodded vigorously.
The child's finger darted back and forth busily.
Pointing at the scenery outside the window.
Then at me.
I watched for a long while without understanding, then cautiously tilted my head.
“...!”
“...Huh?”
Merthesia puffed out her cheeks in frustration.
Then she set down the rabbit and began scribbling something on her sketchbook.
[Goda]
I frowned in thought.
Still clumsy, crooked letters.
Even so, I had to figure out what they meant.
Otherwise, Merthesia wouldn't stand the frustration and would start drawing pictures again.
'Goda...?'
I peered into the sketchbook, lost in contemplation.
Perhaps because I couldn't give a proper response.
Merthesia hurriedly scribbled something more.
It was my name.
Unlike 'Goda,' bold and straight letters.
The letters Merthesia had practiced the most, the ones she was most confident in.
Thanks to that, I figured out what 'Goda' was.
“Goda?”
“!”
“Yeah... come to think of it, it's similar.”
“!”
Merthesia nodded with a smile.
I gazed at that smile and gently stroked the child's head.
“Take a good look while you can. Autumn's short. Blink, and it's gone.”
“...”
Merthesia headed outside.
A moment later—
Merthesia appeared in the scenery beyond the window.
Merthesia crouched beneath a brilliant red maple tree and began picking up fallen leaves.
'Here we go again...'
It was one of Merthesia's autumn hobbies.
Before, she'd gathered pretty stones or acorns,
but once the leaves started falling, she began collecting ones with beautiful colors and shapes, one by one.
The problem was...
There were just too many. Way too many.
I smiled wryly at my books, conquered by Merthesia's fallen leaves.
'Being lively is nice, but...'
Today, there was an important errand.
That's why I'd woken Merthesia earlier than usual.
I merged with the outdoor scenery.
As soon as I stepped out, Merthesia flashed a bright smile and showed off the leaves she'd gathered.
“Yeah. Pretty.”
“!”
“Merthesia, remember what we're doing today?”
“...!”
“Right. Today is the day you go down to the village by yourself.”
Before I could even finish, Merthesia's footsteps hurried toward the cabin.
It had been a few weeks since I started teaching Merthesia letters.
Clumsily, but she wrote each one carefully,
Unlike the first day, she approached every lesson with utmost seriousness,
and now she could even write simple words on her own.
'Spelling is a separate issue, though...'
Still, basic communication via writing was possible.
The villagers would surely recognize the child's efforts.
That's why today, I decided to send Merthesia to the village alone.
Especially since once autumn ended
and snow blanketed the mountains, it would be hard for her to go down alone.
To prepare for that, I made a simple errand her first task.
'Time to get ready...'
The days were growing shorter.
I recalled the cookbook I'd seen earlier and returned to the cabin.
A pint-sized chef, already fully prepared, greeted me.
“...!”
“Yeah. It suits you well.”
A few days ago, Merthesia—apron bought from the village draped over her—greeted me.
The waist ties flapped clumsily tied.
I chuckled, knelt down, and slowly tied them properly.
“...”
“Like this.”
“!”
Merthesia must have sensed something was off too.
She glanced around this way and that,
then, satisfied at last, beamed brightly and spun around once.
Then she lightly pinched her skirt hem and bowed her head politely, as if greeting.
“Yeah. Adorable.”
“...”
When I praised her because it seemed like that's what she wanted,
Merthesia would blush like this.
It had been a year together already.
Still such a shy child.
I gently stroked Merthesia's head.
“Today, we're making cookies.”
“!”
“Yeah. Then you share them with the villagers. You can do it, right?”
“!”
“Reliable as ever.”
I headed to the kitchen with Merthesia.
The kitchen counter.
Merthesia standing side by side with me atop a stool.
It had been over half a year since Merthesia started walking,
but seeing her stand on her own like this to do something still felt novel and praiseworthy.
Seemed like just yesterday I was fretting over when she'd stumble.
Now, her little feet planted firm on the stool,
she stood steady without a wobble, mimicking me.
“Ready?”
“!”
“Yeah. Let's begin.”
Merthesia nodded vigorously.
“Then... let's start with the dough.”
“...!”
I pulled out the flour, eggs, sugar, and butter, lining them up one by one.
First, the flour.
I scooped some into the bowl but handed it off as Merthesia stared intently.
“Up to here. Think you can manage?”
“...!”
“Carefully... cough...”
“Atchoo!”
Seems I explained too slowly.
The kitchen was suddenly shrouded in flour mist.
I waved away the flour floating in the air, and my eyes fell on the pristine white apron.
Because I coughed?
Merthesia went up on tiptoes, grunting as she tried to cover my mouth.
“I'm fine. Cover your own mouth.”
“...”
“But thanks.”
I smiled at her, and only then did she relax, flashing a big grin.
“They say baking can't be rushed.”
“...”
“It's a gift, so let's make it nice and careful.”
Merthesia nodded slowly, then this time poured the flour in carefully.
“Good job.”
“...!”
“Now the eggs... maybe crack them in a separate bowl?”
“!”
It's a gift for people, not just me.
Eggshell bits would be a problem in all sorts of ways.
I picked up an egg.
“Watch closely. Do it like this.”
“...”
“First, tap the egg on the edge like so and crack it...”
I cracked the egg slowly so Merthesia could see well.
“Can you do it?”
“...”
A moment later, what greeted me
was a kitchen counter covered in dripping egg mess.
Tension must have thrown off her force control.
“...”
“Just like me.”
“...?”
“I was terrible at controlling my strength too. Even now, I mess up first tries.”
“!”
A smile returned to Merthesia's sullen face.
Second attempt.
This time force control succeeded, but part of the egg claimed the floor again.
“...”
“It's okay. Everyone messes up the first time.”
Merthesia stared at the floor and pouted her lips.
Her slumped shoulders looked a little pitiful.
“There are more eggs. If it's tough, let's do it together.”
“!”
I laid my hand over the back of Merthesia's.
And together, we slowly cracked the third egg.
Perfect force control.
This time, even the yolk didn't spill.
“Nice one.”
“...!”
Merthesia's eyes sparkled bright.
The cookbook said measurement was crucial for pastries.
The baker I'd asked emphasized measuring precisely—even a little off meant failure.
So—
I handled the measuring.
Merthesia poured the measured ingredients.
“Done...?”
“...?”
“As long as it turns into something when finished.”
We sifted the flour and mixed in the measured ingredients to form the dough.
Maybe because it was her first time touching dough,
the unfamiliar texture had her gingerly prodding it with her fingers.
So cute—I smiled faintly and said,
“Now we'll make round cookies with this dough.”
“!”
Kneading the dough was Merthesia's job.
Rolling it thin with the pin was mine.
Stamping out the round shapes with the cutter was a joint effort.
After repeating the process a few times,
Merthesia, clumsy at first, began shaping the cookies more skillfully.
“Well made.”
“...!”
“Next batch will be even better.”
Merthesia beamed and proudly thumped her little chest.
Our first cookies went into the oven.
As the cookies baked, a sweet aroma filled the cabin.
But that wasn't the end.
To share with the villagers, we'd need a few more batches.
“Can you make more?”
“!”
“Yeah. You'll do even better this time.”
As we shaped another batch, the timer rang.
About to pull them out by habit,
I remembered Merthesia was there and slipped on gloves.
“Always wear gloves for hot things.”
“...!”
I opened the oven door, revealing cookies baked to golden perfection.
“!!!”
“Nicely baked, pretty too.”
I carefully removed the cookies from the oven.
The freshly baked cookies looked utterly mouthwatering.
I popped one into Merthesia's mouth as she stared in wonder.
“...?”
“How is it? Tasty?”
“...!”
“Good.”
Merthesia nodded, eyes twinkling.
Her shoulders bounced with delight; she clearly loved it.
Relief washed over me.
And so, we baked cookies until lunchtime.
Plenty to gift the villagers, infused with care.