An Astonishing Rumor
Riné Planche, a second-year at Capall Municipal Magic School, woke earlier than she needed to, roused by a smell she had never met before.
"Wh-what is that smell?"
One hand snatched up the glasses she had set beside her; the other flung open the window that had been shut. What met her eyes was the gray, damp sprawl of Dusk Block—and yet today was not like other days. A faint drift of butter and potato reached the tip of her nose and set her heart racing.
"D-did a place that opens in the morning show up? At last, even in this Dusk Block, somewhere w-worth eating..."
Others seemed to be thinking the same. Windows that ought to have stayed closed were opening one after another, and across the way a boy on the second floor was leaning so far out that his whole head was outside.
Flustered, she hurriedly neatened her sleep-mussed green hair and finished getting ready faster than usual.
"Please, p-please let it taste good."
She passed the bakery she would normally have stopped at and hurried toward the place where that delicious smell came pouring out.
And so she arrived in front of the inn. On an oak barrel draped with cloth sat a small bell, and a slip of paper.
Ring the bell, and potatoes come out.
"Wh-what is this?"
Still baffled, she stole a glance inside, but curtains hid the interior. Now and then she heard the sounds of cooking, and nothing else—no sign of anyone at all. After a moment's hesitation she decided to ring the bell once, on the chance she was only being made a fool of.
Jingle—
A clear note rang down the alley, and nothing changed. She was just sighing and turning to go when the closed front door burst open and a handsome young man with red hair stepped out, carrying a plate of potatoes.
"B-Blow Deblique?!"
Riné knew him at once and startled so hard she might have seen a ghost.
Blow Deblique, the scoundrel of Blanya. Timid as she was, she had fled every time she so much as glimpsed that red hair fluttering in the distance, terrified of getting tangled up with him.
I-I heard he collapsed at the spirit rite. Why on earth is he here...?
She swallowed dryly and backed away one step at a time. Blow watched her, let out a short laugh, set the plate on the oak barrel, and spoke.
"You know me?"
"I-I do! S-Senior! Hello!"
"You'll be fine. I don't know you."
Cold sweat slid down her spine as she looked at the plate he had just set down. Three roasted potatoes sat in a neat row, steam curling off them. She dithered, with no idea what she was supposed to do, and he speared one on a fork himself and held it out.
"Please, try it."
...He hadn't done something strange to the potato, had he?
At the thought, Riné Planche's teeth clicked together. But in that same instant the savory aroma washed over her, and her whole body trembled. To hell with it, she thought, squeezed her eyes shut, and bit straight into the potato he offered.
At the nutty, fluffy taste her eyes flew open, and in no time she had demolished every last one.
"Any good?"
She couldn't even answer—only nodded, as if spellbound—and Blow told her, easy and unhurried:
"Glad you liked it."
"A-are you selling them?"
"Yeah. One silver a piece. So that's three silver in all."
"What?! Really?"
Her food for a whole day cost one silver, and three pieces of potato for three silver...
Riné's face crumpled, and she barely managed to open her mouth in a pitiful voice.
"I-if you could knock it down just a little..."
"I'm kidding."
"What?"
Her eyes went perfectly round. Blow shrugged.
"I said I'm kidding. It's a sample. I'll charge for the morning potatoes once we actually open. Get to school."
And with that, Blow Deblique picked up the plate and fork and went back inside.
The whole sequence had knocked the soul clean out of her. Riné stared blankly as the inn door shut.
"Did you see it, in front of Nyx Inn?"
"Oh, the 'ring it and potatoes come out' thing?"
Riné had gone to school, drifted through Understanding of Attributes in a daze, and only come back to herself when the talk of the two fourth-year seniors sitting in front of her came flying her way.
"The potatoes were seriously good!"
"They were good, but don't you think they were just a tiny bit salty?"
"That doesn't even count as salty. But when I rang the bell, this cute kid came trotting over and set a plate on the table. She was so cute, you know?"
Curiosity got the better of her, and Riné's body leaned slowly toward them.
"She was cute?"
"Yeah. The way she looked up at me, all sparkling, from down there—insanely cute. I said it was delicious, and she piled a little more on."
"What? I only got to eat once."
"That kid gave you some too?"
"No? A friendly-looking man brought mine. Really easygoing type."
"Oh my, that must've been nice."
"Nice, my foot. I only got to eat three of those delicious things."
The more she heard, the more she burned to know, and at last Riné couldn't hold back. She cut into their conversation.
"R-really?"
"Huh? What, Riné was here? Hey."
Startled to hear the girl who always sat in silence speak up, the two of them returned her greeting with awkward faces.
"D-did a really cute child bring it to you?"
"Yeah! A kid brought it. Did the lady at that inn have a child like that?"
"A-and you're saying a really easygoing man brought it to you?"
She asked it with tears welling in her eyes, and her seniors' eyes narrowed.
"We told you. Would we lie about something like this? Oh, right—Riné, now that I think of it, your room's over that way, isn't it?"
"It is."
"You didn't eat the potatoes?"
"I-I did."
"Who came out for you?"
"S-Senior Blow Deblique."
The moment his name landed, the two fourth-years' faces twisted without mercy.
"Blow? That Blow Deblique?"
"Yes..."
"What are you even saying? He collapsed, and the whole school was in an uproar for ages!"
"I-I would never dare lie to my seniors..."
At that moment the front door flew open, and the voices of the boys coming in boomed through the lecture hall.
"I'm telling you, it really was Senior Blow!"
"Cut the crap. That piece of human trash has been down for seven months already."
"It's true, you bastard."
"How long are you gonna keep talking shit?"
"Someone even saw him at school yesterday, you moron."
"No—I heard someone saw Senior Jane too. Then it checks out, doesn't it? Senior Jane's Blow's right hand."
Jane Foresti. Blow Deblique. The lecture hall heated so fiercely it was hard to imagine any names that could stir the students more.
"They said there was a kid there, too."
"What? A kid? D-don't tell me, with Senior Jane?"
"Senior Jane is pretty, you know."
"Just what kind of bastard is that Blow, anyway? Doing that to poor, decent Senior Jane..."
"The kid's got brown hair, they said."
"Brown? Hey, that's not right, is it? So he's making Senior Jane raise someone else's kid?"
The moment those words reached them, Riné and the two sitting in front of her went white as sheets, and their hands began to shake.
"Then... the cute girl who gave me the potatoes is that Blow Deblique's daughter...?"
While that was going on, the lecture hall door opened again, and Herbena stepped in wearing a crisp uniform, violet hair streaming behind her.
Everyone knew full well that she was one of Blow's retainers, and so only silence circled the room.
What is it? Did the practical scores come out?
She was heading for her seat without a care when one of the boys from earlier bellowed at her.
"Hey! Herbena!"
"What?"
"Is it true there's a kid between Senior Jane and Blow?"
"Hm?"
It was a story she had never heard in her life, and even she couldn't help but flinch. Then they explained what they had been through. Herbena listened without a word and took the measure of the situation in no time—and that brilliant, somehow warped mind of hers turned in a very strange direction.
"Oh dear."
She left just those two words and went back to her seat.
The lecture hall descended into chaos.
While the rumor at school was swelling into something astonishing, Blow and Hans, finished with their first morning of business, were cleaning up in the back.
...The school's bound to be in an uproar.
Blow had expected, of course, that selling potatoes that way in the morning would set people talking at school. Given the sensational reputation he'd carried before he collapsed, it was easy enough to foresee. He was absolutely confident in the taste; he had only added a little fun on top of it. Having himself, Melo, Hans, and even Jane take turns bringing the potatoes out had been conceived in that same spirit. There was no way the contrast between the infamous Blow and Melo could fail to be entertaining.
"Jane, how many plates went out this morning?"
"I lost count partway through, but a little over a hundred and fifty."
"All right. Everyone worked hard. Get some rest. We can start prepping for the evening service later this afternoon."
"Then may I go upstairs and sleep for a bit?"
"Sure. I'll finish up. Go on ahead."
At his words, Hans and Jane—already halfway up—met each other's eyes and came back down.
"I told you to rest. Why are you coming down?"
"If we clean it together, it'll be faster, won't it! Haha!!"
"I think Hans is right."
While the two of them stood there awkwardly, Melo came marching straight up to Blow, planted both hands on her hips, and cried out.
"How was I!"
"Perfect, obviously."
"Hehe."
"Have fun?"
"Sooo much fun! It was amazing how bland people thought it was! And I liked hearing them say it was delicious."
Flushed and spilling the words out in a rush, Melo barely paused for breath, and Blow stroked her hair gently.
"The seasoning does need to be a bit stronger than you'd think. People in my household eat on the mild side."
A pinch of extra salt in Melo's supreme recipe. It was a concession he had won only after cornering her for about an hour the night before and talking her into it.
"From now on..."
"Hm?"
He had started to speak and stopped. Melo tilted her head and looked up at him.
That was close. Melo has to go back soon. I need to be careful.
The moment had gone awkward, and he was straightening the table beside him when Melo came up again, bright-voiced, and cried:
"The big sisters said I was cute!"
"That's because your legs are short."
"......"
Seeing Melo freeze where she stood, Jane stopped moving plates at once, pressed her mouth into a flat line, and looked at his face.
"Young Master, is that something you say to a child...?"
"Well, Melo is cute, though."
"Hmph."
Melo's lips jutted out, and she ran to Jane and buried herself in her arms. Jane drew her brows in and shot Blow a look.
"You know the Young Master isn't good at saying what he means. Let's let it go, good Melo."
"Okay."
Even so, the pout showed no sign of going back in. Watching her, Blow cleared his throat for no particular reason and said:
"Let's go get something good for lunch."
"L-lunch!"
"Once the cleaning's done, we can head right out."
"What are we going to eaat?"
"Hmm? What do you want, Melo?"
"Then lobster!"
"Not that."
At that firmness, the mouth that had gone back in threatened to jut out again. Before it could, he snorted a laugh and shrugged.
"Let's go eat pasta. Squid-ink pasta."
"Squid ink!!"
Melo closed her eyes and danced a soft little sway, as if she were spreading the wings of her imagination all by herself. Everyone who saw it paused for a moment and simply watched her.
"Young Master! The plates are all washed!"
"We're short on plates, aren't we?"
"Yes. From the middle on, Hans and I did nothing but dishes, and it was still too much."
"I ought to think about something the kids can carry food away in. Paper would be the most straightforward. More expensive than I'd think, though, won't it?"
"Yes. It's on the expensive side. The paper might cost more than the potatoes."
This world had magical tools, so some things had developed beyond all expectation—and, conversely, some things were peculiarly slow to develop. Papermaking was one of them. Thanks to that, books were among the things mages spent the most money on, second only to potions.
"After lunch, we should stop by the market on the way back. We can't sell nothing but potatoes forever."
"A most proper judgment, sir."
"Hans, you were thinking of coming too?"
"Yes."
"You said you were resting."
"Yes..."
Seeing the strength drain out of his shoulders, Blow decided the joke had gone far enough and gave him a light tap at the waist.
"Come eat lunch with us."
"Yes, sir!"
The answer came back good and loud. And his hands had grown just as fast as that booming reply.
"Blow's started a business?"
"Yes. They say he's running it out of some inn in Dusk Block."
"Dusk Block? Haha. That fellow really has fallen as far as a man can fall."
Julbert Mertios, having heard the report from James—his retainer, and a third-year at the magic school—set the tea he had been drinking down on the table at his leisure.
"And there's a rumor going around among the students that he and Jane have a child."
"Jane Foresti? You mean the girl who was sold off in Splas last time?"
"Yes, that's correct. I looked into it, and they say Blow came in person and took Jane away with him."
"Well, Blow having a child or so would hardly be surprising, but... aha."
Just then the hand that had been dumping a heap of sugar into his tea paused.
"So that's why he took Jane out of the guild?"
"As expected of Lord Julbert. He's Deblique blood to his dying breath, so if the mother weren't even a commoner, but a slave, that would be rather awkward."
Hearing that, Julbert laughed as if he could scarcely believe his ears.
"Even so. You don't actually think it's true?"
"I'll look into it."
"At any rate, isn't the timing remarkably convenient?"
"You mean Blow waking up?"
"Yes. Whatever else happens, Herbena will truly have to think it over now."
"Are you saying she hasn't been thinking it over until now?"
"She has, I'm sure. Just not properly."
"I truly can't tell whether I understand it or not. Blow doesn't seem like the sort of man who would keep faith that way."
At James's earnest words, Julbert stirred the spoon in his cup and answered.
"It isn't loyalty to Blow, of course. It'll be because of the baron and baroness. The two of them all but raised her from the time she was small."
"Ah. I believe I've heard as much."
"Herbena is remarkable, isn't she? Now that Blow is up and getting in the way, there's no chance her feelings won't shift. She's already a fourth-year, and next year she'll be a fifth-year—an upperclassman, won't she?"
"It strikes me all over again how impressive she is, having stayed at the top even while Blow was around. Speaking as a fellow retainer."
"I wonder. I don't think that's anything remarkable to her. For her, it's as natural as breathing. Is there anything more governed by talent than magic? And so... I need her in my hands."
James, his expression firm, nodded in deep agreement.
"Then wouldn't it be enough to do nothing, and simply wait a little longer?"
"Wait?"
"If you consider that scoundrel's temper, the moment business gets even a little difficult, he'll put pressure on her. He may already be doing it."
"There's sense in that."
"A man like him might even take out a loan with her as collateral. I hear the family's circumstances have grown quite bad."
"James, isn't your imagination running a little too wild?"
"I'm only speaking of a reasonable possibility."
At that Julbert burst out laughing, and the laughter gradually subsided until he lowered his voice.
"Shall we wait, as you say, and then give the fire a little fanning?"
"Fanning?"
"Yes. Needle him. Gently."
The storm whirling inside the teacup slowed little by little, then went still, and before long Julbert's thin, unpleasant smile was reflected on its surface.