A Cow-Butcher's Knife for a Chicken
On the outskirts of Paulos Monastery, a coffeehouse looked out over the full sweep of Lake Laje.
Yulia and Marta had taken a light meal before the climb up to the monastery, and now they sat talking quietly together.
"Lady Yulia, thank you. The meal was already more than I deserved, and you've even served me such wonderful tea."
"Not at all, Saintess. I only regret that I have nothing finer to offer you."
"The goods and the food you donate to the monastery are already far more than enough."
Marta said it as if she meant every word. Yulia answered in the same gentle voice she always used.
"When the Saintess is happy, I am happy! And the path of caring for the Saintess is the path of caring for the whole Empire, besides."
"When you put it like that, I hardly know what to do with myself. You must be so busy with academy affairs, and yet you've come all the way to Roten..."
"It isn't as if I came for anything else. I came to see you, Saintess. My father told me to visit whenever I had the time, as well."
"Ah — you mean Marquis Deshang? Is he well?"
"Yes. He's been busy lately with one venture after another. It's been quite a while since I last saw his face, actually."
The two of them went on in calm, soft voices. Then Marta asked, as if something had been on her mind.
"My lady, how many days will you be staying at the monastery?"
"I'll most likely go straight to my hotel in Roten tomorrow."
"Oh my. The children will be a little disappointed."
"There's something I need to see to at the hotel. Oh — and I've already spoken with them, so please make use of it whenever you wish. The hot spring is simply wonderful."
"I am grateful just to hear you say so."
"I don't want it to be only words. I truly hope you will. People seek the Saintess from every corner of the Empire. You mustn't let the fatigue pile up."
At that, Marta only smiled in silence. Then, as if something had just occurred to her, Yulia carefully opened her mouth.
"By the way, I hear all sorts of talk has been coming out of the Church lately."
"Yes. I'm sure you know it well yourself, Lady Yulia."
"It's about holy power, isn't it?"
"Yes."
Holy power was a force that scholars of magic, depending on the researcher, set apart as the light attribute, and it was ordinarily used for healing and blessing. The Lunaria Church, the faith of the Empire, was exceedingly sensitive about the rank and the distinction between holy power and light-attribute magic. From the distant past, long before magic had been organized into any system, holy power had been called the god's choosing and treated as the Church's alone. But magic had advanced through the wars, and at some point holy power came to be dismissed as merely one branch of elemental magic. For a church that served a god, the slight was impossible to ignore.
In that same current, even the revelations granted to saintesses and saints — light descending from the heavens to strike them — had lately become the subject of more and more talk. A few years ago, someone had even published a radical hypothesis: that a revelation was nothing more than a certain spirit, one that properly belonged in the Space of Night, descending into the phenomenal world and choosing a human with whom it resonated.
"These days the light magic of the students at the Academy has reached a level comparable to the holy magic of our priests. As you well know, my lady..."
"Master Whitaker's theory raised the standard of ordinary mages so efficiently that if this is an inevitable current, then it is a current. Still, it must be rather awkward for the Church."
"It's far too late to forbid light magic when it has already taken such a firm hold. So all sorts of discussions are underway within the Church as well."
"I can imagine. If even the Saintess is troubled to this degree..."
As Yulia's words trailed off, Marta shook her head, as if to tell her not to worry.
"The responsibility of this seat is mine. Even when I try not to fret, I can't help it. Still, the voices calling for reform have been gathering strength. I expect we'll see change as early as next year."
"Whatever form it takes, I sincerely hope it will be a good change for you, Saintess."
The subject being what it was, the mood had only grown heavier. Yulia sipped her tea and wondered how she might lighten it — and then Blow Deblique's face came to mind. She turned to the Saintess in a noticeably brighter tone.
"Saintess, by any chance, have you heard of Cheese Corn Cheese?"
A short while later Yulia, who had ridden up in the carriage behind the Saintess, exchanged greetings with the abbot and was able to meet Blow Deblique at once. Unlike her, neither of them had expected the meeting, and both Blow and his right hand, Jane, looked thoroughly startled.
"Young Master Blow! We meet again."
"...Good day, Senior. What brings you here?"
As he answered, Blow looked even stiffer than he had the first time he served her Cheese Corn Cheese.
Hmm? The young master seems even more rigid than before. Is it because of the Saintess?
And then, caught in Yulia's eye, Marta's fingers trembled ever so faintly. Sensing that something lay between the two of them, she looked from one to the other — while Abbot Francis, wearing a pleased smile, addressed them all.
"Everyone, shall we go inside?"
Blow snapped back to himself and answered at once.
"Abbot, as I said yesterday, I have to prepare dinner. If I don't start now, I don't think I'll make it in time."
"Ah, that's right, you did. I'll look forward to it. Then I'll go in ahead with the Saintess and the young lady."
"Yes. I'll see you this evening."
Blow had just bowed to them and was about to let out a breath of relief when Yulia, who had been watching the exchange from a step away, came up to him.
"Abbot, Young Master Blow — one moment. I thought this might happen, so once again..."
She pointed toward her carriage. Just then three more carriages came up to the monastery and began setting ingredients down on the ground.
"Donations! My lady, such kindness..."
"I'm only doing what ought to be done."
Then Yulia turned her gaze on Blow.
"Young master, I brought all sorts of foodstuffs as well! Let's show the children the taste of Cheese Corn Cheese, too!"
"Ah. Then those over there — I may use all of them?"
"Of course!"
"Then I'll do my very best."
Francis, who had been watching the two of them, smiled warmly and asked Yulia a question.
"How fortunate this is! But my lady, did you know in advance that Young Master Blow would be coming to the monastery?"
"Yes. I'd heard of it before."
...So that was why she'd asked about his schedule one more time at the staff dinner. Recalling how Yulia had kept pressing him about his plans, Blow felt, for no reason he could name, a chill crawl down his spine.
"Young master, I brought onions and bacon as well."
"Whoa!! Bacon!!"
The moment the children heard the word bacon, they burst into cheers. Blow, already reckoning what he might do with the bacon and the other ingredients, patted Melo on the shoulder beside him.
"Melo?"
"Yes, Young Master!"
"Have you cooked with bacon before?"
"Yes, I used it now and then at the manor!"
"Let's think about what to make with that."
"Yes, sir!"
Then his gaze shifted to Jane and Hans, standing behind him.
"Hans, Jane — you're ready?"
"Yes."
"Yes, sir!"
Blow gave them a nod, stepped up to the abbot and Yulia, and inclined his head.
"Then we'll be heading to the kitchen."
"Young Master Blow!"
"Yes, my lady."
"This is a monastery that says those who do not work shall not eat, so—"
Blow could already guess what was coming and prayed inwardly that he was wrong. The god Lunaria did not hear him.
"May I join in preparing the meal as well?"
"...Of course! The more hands, the better for us. Haha."
Whatever his answer, Jane and Melo — for whom she was nothing but an overwhelming presence — felt their mouths fall open before they could stop them. Francis nodded kindly to them.
"Young master, several of the sisters will help with the cooking and the serving."
"Thank you, Abbot. I'll have it ready on time."
And so they set off for the kitchen.
Marta stayed as she was, listening, until the sound of their voices faded from her ears.
Today's menu would be the roasted potatoes that had been a hit at the Nyx Inn, Yulia's favorite Cheese Corn Cheese, and an onion soup built around the bacon.
"It's cold outside, so something warm would be better, don't you think?"
"Yes! Then shall we fry the bacon and use the fat?"
"Yeah. And let's make a stock to go in it. How about keeping it light, mostly vegetables? Turnip ought to freshen it up."
"I love it!!"
With that, Melo set straight to cutting the bacon. Blow turned to give Jane her instructions on the potatoes and the Cheese Corn Cheese — and found Yulia watching him with a pleased look.
"What a fine idea, Young Master Blow."
"Thank you for the compliment."
"What can I help with?"
Blow glanced toward Jane. She managed to lift the corners of her mouth and gave him a small, pleading shake of the head: please, do not send her my way. This once, he could not grant the wish. He pointed toward Jane.
"I'd like you to prep the potatoes with Jane."
"Oh my! The inn's main dish, the potatoes! Are you sure you can trust me with a duty that important?"
"Yes. Jane will walk you through every step. Just do exactly as she says."
At his words, the corners of Jane's mouth sank until her lips were a flat line. Blow quietly avoided her eyes and went over to Melo, who was busy cutting onions.
"Better to sauté the onions first, I think. I'll keep cutting."
"Yes, Young Master! Once the stock is ready, shall I try just one batch first?"
"Yeah, that's better. We'll make one and fix whatever needs fixing."
"Young Master! Then I'll wash the onions first and start peeling them."
"Right."
...Every time I watch them, I can't help thinking how perfectly in step they are.
Yulia studied them closely, taking in every detail. Jane came up to her, cleared her throat, and carefully spoke.
"Senior?"
"Ah, Jane! Did you call me?"
"Yes. There's a great deal today, so we're only washing them — we won't peel the skins. Just cut each potato once, cleanly in half, then cut toward the center two or three times."
Jane cut one potato by way of demonstration and held it out. Wedges, crescent-shaped, narrowing toward the heart of the potato. Yulia's eyes went round, and then she nodded.
"Ah. I see."
She picked up the potato Jane had cut, examined it closely for a moment, and then flung several potatoes into the air. While Jane's eyes went wide as a startled rabbit's, Yulia summoned an indigo magic circle at once, fixed the potatoes in midair, and split them into six equal pieces.
"...Heavens. How did you do that?"
"Ah, you know the spell that cuts anything inside its range in a straight line. Cutting."
"Yes, I know that one."
"You cast it several times, then shift the angle just a little to match the size of the potato and cut them all at once. Like this."
With that she sent up a dozen or so potatoes at once, summoned the same circle, and cut them down.
"Whoa..."
Jane stood there with her mouth hanging open because the work, simple as it looked, demanded an extraordinary understanding of magic, together with skill and instinct. Just as she had described, Yulia was fixing the potatoes in the air with Kinesis, then using Cutting to slice each differently shaped potato in a single stroke. Misjudge the calculation even once, or fumble the mana, and the potatoes would not only smash or fall — they would be cut into grotesque shapes and ruined. And yet she didn't so much as blink, cleanly taking five or six at a time.
"You set the path of the first cut, then use that as your reference for the next. How about it, Jane? Want to try?"
"No. I think I'd have trouble just getting the potatoes to float..."
"Haha! Not at all. With practice, you'll manage just fine. It's easier than you'd think."
Blow, cutting onions, watched and felt the wall between them. He muttered, almost to himself.
"A cow-butcher's knife, for killing a chicken..."
"Hm? What was that, Young Master Blow?"
"Nothing. If you don't mind, I'd be grateful if you'd do the onions as well. This time, slice them thin and long."
"Yes! I'll finish the potatoes and come help right away!"
And then Yulia was floating potatoes and cutting them once more.
Jane and Blow found her a little more frightening than before.
At the evening meal, everyone but Blow's team — gone to prepare the food — had taken their places at the tables. Ever since the magic and the swordsmanship he had shown them earlier, the children's faith in him had shot to the sky, and they were shouting with voices full of anticipation.
"It's gonna be so good!"
"Hey, I heard Melo's the one cooking."
"Whaaat!? That brown-haired girl?"
"They say she's an amazing, amazing cook."
"Huh. She doesn't look the type..."
"I saw earlier — she even has calluses on her fingers!!"
"Really?"
"And Lady Yulia loves Melo's cooking, too."
"Even the young lady!? Then it's gonna be incredible."
Liz was boasting to the other children as if the glory were her own. Tommy, seated at the same table, kept his mouth shut tight and listened. Even so, he couldn't help a corner of his heart stirring with anticipation for Melo's cooking.
...How good could it possibly be?
The table where the Saintess, Aubio, and the abbot sat was listening to the children's chatter with just as much interest. The seats across from them, meant for Blow's team, stood empty. Francis was the first to speak to Marta.
"Saintess, how was it, hearing Young Master Blow's voice after so long?"
"There seemed to be a clarity in it that wasn't there before."
Aubio slipped quietly into their conversation.
"It was surprising in a number of ways. Something happened today between Tommy and Young Master Blow."
"Young Master Blow and Tommy?"
At the note of unease in Marta's voice, Aubio hurried to explain what had passed between them. When he came to the part where Blow had spoken to Tommy about flowers, surprise rose on both the abbot's face and Marta's.
"Young Master Blow said something like that...?"
"If I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't have believed it."
"As I thought. Then that time, too..."
She was still murmuring when, a little later, the door opened and a fragrant smell began to fill the room. The children, waiting with their necks craned for the food, peered into the baskets the sisters had brought out to serve — and disappointment flashed across their faces.
"Potatoes again..."
"It's always potatoes."
Just as the disappointment settled into their voices, the door swung wide once more. Through it came Jane, a great pot loaded onto a cart. The moment the pot entered, the sweet scent of onion and the aroma of bacon spread through the dining hall, and every eye in the room widened and turned that way.