The Traditional Way
The nun in charge came running the moment she saw Melo and Tommy tangled together, but the two of them went right on clutching each other and yanking back and forth for a long while after that.
"You let go first!!"
"You let go!!!"
"Tommy! Melo! What are the rest of you doing? Don't just stand there—pull them apart!"
Only after those words fell did the children rush in on the pair. Even so, Melo's hand, mercilessly tearing at Tommy's hair, showed not the slightest intention of letting go.
"Take it back!"
"No!"
"How is a girl this strong?!"
Only when the nun herself latched on did Melo finally come off him. Still furious, she glared at Tommy through rough breaths and shouted.
"You really are a bad kid!!"
"......"
Tommy, for his part, was not about to lose. He stared back at Melo as if he meant to kill her.
"What in the world happened!"
Rather than ask the two of them, still seething, the nun turned to the other children. Liz, who had stopped crying, laid out what had happened, clear and orderly. Once the nun had the whole of it, her face hardened. She looked at Tommy, still panting in front of her, and spoke in a stern voice.
"Tommy! Is this true?"
"......"
"Apologize to Melo."
"......"
"Now!"
Tommy pressed his lips shut and gave no answer at all. The nun looked at him, heaved a deep sigh, and shifted her gaze to Melo.
"Melo! Even if Tommy said it first, you raised your hand at him! That is not allowed."
"...He insulted the young master."
"Melo, do you think the young master would want you fighting just because you heard someone insult him?"
"No..."
"Apologize to Tommy, quickly!"
"......"
Melo glanced at Tommy once. He stuck his tongue out at her, spiteful, then shut his mouth again as if nothing had happened. At that, Melo's temper flared, and she shook her head.
"I don't want to."
The nun pressed her fingers to her temple as if her head ached, pointed to a corner of the room, and said, "Both of you, over to that corner. Kneel and hold your hands up, until you feel like making up!"
Melo looked up at her, the picture of injustice, but the nun shook her head as if there would be no exceptions. Melo had no choice. Shoulders slumped, she went to the corner, knelt, and raised her hands.
Thirty minutes passed.
Her arms hurt, of course they did—but after kneeling so long, her legs had gone terribly numb as well. Liz kept glancing over with a guilty face, and that bothered her too, and Blow's voice, the one that had told her to be good, seemed to keep ringing in her ears.
If the young master gets angry, he's scary... what do I do...
Deciding she had better make up, Melo looked over at Tommy, a few steps away. Tommy, oblivious to any such feeling, started in with words meant to get under her skin.
"What kind of girl is that strong!"
"......"
"You don't sew—what, do you chop firewood or something?"
"No..."
"Then what?"
"I cook..."
"Hmph. Can't even sew, and you call that cooking."
Tears welled in Melo's eyes. It was unfair—he was dismissing her cooking without ever having tasted it once.
"I am good at cooking..."
"Liar."
"I'm not lying! Everybody likes my cooking!! You don't know anything!!"
Seeing the tears fall in drops, Tommy was so flustered he couldn't get a word out. Liz, who had been watching them all the while, ran to the nun. A moment later the nun arrived, let out a deep sigh, and spoke.
"Tommy! Didn't I clearly tell you to reflect?"
"......"
"Go to that corner."
"......"
"That's so meaan!!"
Whether Tommy's words had cut her or not, Melo was crying in Liz's arms. Tommy, who had been glaring at her, clicked his tongue and had no choice but to go to the other corner the nun had indicated.
Friday morning—while Blow was off at the vineyard and Melo was fighting with Tommy.
At Caypol Municipal Magic School, Hervena and Skadi had taken the very back seats of the lecture hall. The second exam of the second semester, the one with the widest scope and the one everyone dreaded, was finally starting next week, so they had been given time to study on their own. Skadi wore a resolute expression. Like the other students, she had set out her book and quill and was drawing a deep breath. Hervena, seeing her like that for the first time, tilted her head.
"...You're going to study?"
"Yeah."
"You never cared about the written subjects."
"The exam's next week! I've got to study."
Hervena's eyes narrowed. She remembered a Skadi who, no matter the situation, did nothing but sleep, steadfast as a bamboo stalk.
"I really am going to!"
"Fine. If there's something you don't know, say so. I'll teach you."
"I don't know anything! So maybe I'll just memorize the whole thing in one go!"
"No, don't do that. Try to understand it as you—"
They were having a genuinely productive conversation for the first time in ages when Maxim, deputy head of Public Relations under Yulia, came into the lecture hall and took a seat in front of them.
"Skadi and Hervena? You two doing all right?"
"...Hello."
Hervena greeted him awkwardly; she had no dealings with him. Skadi, who was friendly with everyone, waved at him cheerfully.
"Us? We've hardly been getting along! Um-haha!"
"Right. Must've been a mess over that Blow business. Sorry. That was a thoughtless thing to say."
"No, it's fine. We're managing!"
Only then did Maxim nod. Onto the desk he set not a book, but a newspaper and a single magnifying lens.
"Oh? What's that? Working?"
"Yeah. Proofreading next week's paper. The department head asked me to."
"Hm? Senior Yulia's dumping all the work on you?"
"Thinking about next year, I suppose. Once she's elected president, she won't be able to do it anyway."
"True. Senior must be busy these days."
"Yeah. Capall Academia, the second exam... and she has to prepare for the presidential election. Thanks to that, I'm doing all the Public Relations work myself."
At the faintly boastful words, Skadi stuck up a thumb.
"Reliable subordinate."
"I am a bit like that."
As he said it, he set the lens over the headline. Skadi watched as if it were fascinating, then asked in a playful tone, "So are you going into the senior's Edfolk family as a trusted retainer?"
"No comment."
"Hey, whyyy! Tell me!"
"Then is Hervena staying with the Deblique family?"
"......"
Hervena looked down at him with a stiff face, and Maxim had no choice but to quietly turn his head forward.
"Sorry. For me, just having worked with Senior Yulia is an honor. I learned a lot."
"I bet you did."
"Oh, right. Want to have lunch with me?"
"Don't think about fishing a story out of us."
"Hm? I was just going to get a review of Blow's shop over the meal."
At that, Hervena's stiff expression eased, and Skadi nodded as if it were a fine idea.
"That's not a bad thought."
"Yeah. We promised last time, but it got pushed back. And the department head loves the Cheese Corn Cheese there so much. She's been badgering me to put it in the next issue, no matter what."
"Senior really does love corn cheese. But don't you eat lunch with her every time? I think I've seen you holding meetings in the student cafeteria."
"I did. But today she stepped out for a bit."
"Senior Yulia? For what?"
"Ah, something came up on her schedule all of a sudden."
"What kind of something?"
"She said the Saintess is nearby, so she's going to pay her respects."
Hervena's hand, which had been half-listening while she planned her studying, stopped. Her gaze shifted to Maxim.
"The Saintess...?"
"Yeah. She even skipped all her classes to go. Said she'll stop by Roten over the weekend, too."
"Suddenly?"
"Not suddenly. She'd been saying for a while that she wanted to visit once. The timing just worked out this time."
Hearing him, Hervena and Skadi met each other's eyes.
...The Saintess?
That had to mean Saintess Marta. And if the Saintess had come nearby, the next destination was surely Paulos Monastery. Which meant Yulia was going to see Blow, right now. Once Hervena had the situation figured out, her face crumpled.
When Blow's party arrived at the vineyard, the laborers at work doffed their caps to Aubio and Blow in greeting. Among them were Barbarians, and the small-statured Ain as well. Blow looked them over and asked Aubio, almost to himself.
"There are Barbarians and Ain here too?"
"Yes. We receive a great deal of help from them."
"Help?"
"We can't pay them much, but they are extraordinarily diligent and sincere."
"Figures."
Blow, recalling Ornn, left it there. Whether the small Ain or the huge Barbarians, being of the lesser races made finding proper work extremely difficult. Cases like Ornn, working alongside him now, were truly rare. Most, he had heard, scraped by on simple labor. Even then, the Barbarians were somewhat favored for their size and strength, while the small, weaker Ain were shunned at every turn. Looking at the Ain, every one of them hooded, Blow let out a faint sigh and asked Aubio again.
"What should Jane and I do?"
"Ah. The harvest actually finished not long ago. What we need from you today is to clear the fallen leaves, in preparation for winter."
"If the harvest is done, this year's wine ought to be coming along?"
"Yes. But it needs to age a little. This evening you should be able to taste what we brewed last year."
"That's fine."
"Pardon?"
"I don't know wine well."
Rachel's face passed through his mind, laughing at him outright, and he said it anyway. Aubio looked at him with both brows raised, as if surprised.
"And the children are eating nothing but potatoes. Even so, throwing wine in on top of that doesn't sit right, does it?"
"Ah, even so... compared to breakfast and lunch, we do try to set a proper table at dinner. That's why the children wait only for the evening meal."
"Is that so? We're handling dinner, so we'd better do it properly."
"Oh, really? Now that you mention it, I heard you run a business."
"Hm? Who told you."
"Mr. Sullivan said so."
...The owner of Egg Bottles has certainly been making the rounds.
Blow felt pleased, and at the same time embarrassed. He hadn't even properly opened, and here he was hearing from someone else that he was in business.
...Hearing kind things said behind your back feels better than you'd think.
A little ticklish inside, Blow Deblique avoided the eyes of Aubio, who was gazing at him steadily.
"If you gather the leaves with this rake, the others will bag them for you."
"All right."
"Then I'll be off elsewhere."
With that, Aubio went back up to the monastery. Jane and Blow rolled their sleeves and set to gathering leaves in earnest with the rake he had left them.
Two hours passed that way. It was fairly hard work, yet Jane's expression never changed once, and Blow was quietly surprised.
"Jane."
"Yes."
"...You don't look tired at all."
"It's easier than construction."
She looked at him and lifted the corner of her mouth. At those words Blow felt sorry all at once. Scratching his cheek, he said in a subdued tone, "...Sorry."
"It's all right. Haha. Thanks to you, my stamina's gotten so much better."
Whether it was because of Yulia or because of Hervena, Jane had grown noticeably more frightening of late. Blow had just casually put about a step of distance between them when a Barbarian called out from far off, voice booming.
"Let's take a short break!"
Everyone came out of the field. Just then Jane picked up one of the grape leaves.
"What's that for?"
"I thought it would make a good bookmark. The color's pretty."
"...Isn't it a bit big for that?"
"Is it?"
The autumn grape leaf was a little larger than their palms, mottled red shot through with green—like ivy, and from a distance even a little like the red leaf lettuce Blow had once seen in another world. Either way, it was too big for a bookmark. He picked up a smaller leaf and held it out to her.
"Usually you use something like this."
"Ah, but the color on this one's prettier."
Even as she said it, her face brightened a little more as she took the leaf he offered.
"Right. We might sell them at the potion shop, so take a good look."
"...You're going to sell fallen leaves?"
"No reason we couldn't. Sort them well, finish them, two pennies apiece. How's that."
"A view this fine, and even here you're thinking about business..."
"Too unromantic?"
"No. It's not exactly that..."
Only after Jane said it did the sight enter his eyes: behind the vineyard, a wide lake of deep-looking blue. Set against the mottled leaves, that clear color gave an enormous sense of openness just to look at it.
"You always carry your notebook. Could you keep them for me?"
"Sure."
"Give me one back when we return."
Jane smiled as she said it. Blow did as she wanted, slipped the leaves she held out into the notebook, and closed it. Sure enough, the leaf she had picked up first stuck out past the cover without fail.
"See. Told you it's too big."
"Isn't a bookmark something you use to mark a place?"
"Fair point."
After that the two of them quietly took in the lake. A little later Blow picked up a large grape leaf from the ground and, without thinking, set it on his palm. It hadn't fallen long ago; the texture clung to his hand.
Hm?
Something occurred to him. He set a few twigs and pebbles on the leaf, and Jane, seeing it, tilted her head at her young master.
...Is he planning to play house with Melo later?
Then he piled a few more twigs and stones onto the leaf and held it out to her.
"Jane, hold this."
"Yes."
"How's the weight?"
"What kind of weight?"
"Compared to what we put in when we pack the baked potatoes."
Only then did she begin to understand. Her brow drew in, and her mouth went flat.
"Don't tell me you mean to take these and use them as disposable dishes..."
"Yeah."
"......"
"I'll have to check later, though."
"...Check what?"
"Whether it holds its shape with something hot on it. Whether it burns your hand."
"Isn't that far too unromantic? With a view this good right in front of you..."
"Guess I can't help it. But the color's pretty, and I think it'd go well with potatoes."
"That much is true, but..."
"If we finish them right, it should work, shouldn't it? Overlap two of them."
Her boss examined the leaves in earnest. Then he produced a pouch from somewhere and started sorting out a few leaves and tucking them away.
"What are you doing?"
"Yes...?"
"Hurry up and pick them."
"Yes..."
After that Jane silently helped choose the leaves. But a clear smile was spreading at the corner of her mouth.
When lunchtime came, the two went up to the monastery and headed for the room where Melo was. Jane, kicking her shoes off in a hurry because she missed her, cried out at the sight that met her—the barley-ear of hair she had tied so neatly was a tangled mess, and the collar of the clothes they had bought for the trip was stretched out of shape.
"Melo!"
She dropped the leaves she was holding and ran to her. Melo's eyes filled with tears again, and she threw her arms around Jane as she came.
"Melo! What is this!!"
"Jane!! hic..."
"Melo, what happened?"
"He kept..."
But there she stopped. She had a feeling that if she said anything about Jane or the young master, something terrible would happen to Tommy, so she shut her mouth.
"Melo! Why do you start talking and then stop?"
"......"
"Melo!!"
The children nearby quietly gauged Tommy's reaction. The nun in the room swallowed dryly, wondering how she was supposed to explain this.
"Called me an infuriating redhead, I take it."
Because those words were heard, every gaze was drawn to Blow, coming slowly in from the door.
"Hm. No? A redhead he wanted dead?"
He was smiling, but there was something chilling in the voice. The nun, who had heard a little of his notoriety from Aubio, felt cold sweat running down her back.
"Melo isn't the type to get angry easily."
"......"
"Hm? What'd you say, kid."
"......"
"Quiet as you are, you did say something, didn't you."
An awkward silence hung between the two of them. Blow, who had been watching him without a word, stretched his arms overhead, yawned, and spoke.
"Young master? What...?"
Jane's brow drew in, as if she couldn't believe it. Blow turned and tossed the words over his shoulder.
"Come with me. Let's spar."
"Young master...?"
He went out without another answer. Jane and Melo, who had hesitated, hurried after him. Every eye turned to Tommy, who had been kneeling until then. And at the corner of his mouth, a thin, cold smile was spreading, as if this were exactly what he had wanted.