Chapter 52
It was the time when Arian was five years old.
Since she was little, she had stubbornly refused to eat. She hated dirt with a passion and scrutinized every single ingredient in her meals.
An overly picky young lady who even demanded the water used in cooking, it was no surprise that everyone grew tired of her.
No matter how much her brothers David and Bertrand cooed and spoiled her with anything she wanted, or how much her mother Louise soothed and reassured her, Arian remained unmoved.
She would declare she would not eat anything that was not of her own making, and when Louise yelled in exasperation to just do whatever she wanted, Arian finally began cooking for herself.
Watching her create dishes whose origins no one could trace, people slowly began to feel awe toward the little girl.
The servants whispered that she was a demon in human skin or that she had been bewitched by a devil.
She demanded the castle be cleaned spotless and, if not, her own room as well, and her personal maid changed three times a month.
The maids would clutch their mistress in tears, claiming they could never satisfy the picky young lady.
When Louise snapped that no one could possibly fulfill such demands, Arian said she would try herself and eventually cleaned her own room to the standard she required.
Louise, staring at the result, pulled her eldest son Bertrand aside that night and whispered,
“Could my daughter really have been taken by a demon? Should we summon a priest?”
Bertrand shook his head. As a mage’s son, he assured his mother there was no connection to monsters or devils. Louise felt a little relieved.
However, she had no idea how to raise such a peculiar daughter.
That autumn, when the king departed on a hunt, Raymond Danier could return to the estate for a short while.
The moment Louise saw her husband return, she immediately discussed Arian with him. Yet even as he listened, Raymond found it hard to believe. To him, his daughter Arian was the very gift bestowed by the gods.
Of course, the child had some strange quirks, but she was undeniably adorable.
The next day, he sat Arian on his lap and went through the estate correspondence. Though he usually entrusted it to his wife, the lord of the estate was himself, and there were many letters, official notices, and sealed documents requiring his seal even after his passing.
Arian stared at the documents with great interest, but with her usual dexterity, she simply fiddled with her own fingers and never once reached out to touch them.
“May I touch them?” Raymond asked. Arian shook her head.
“Ink could stain them, and parchment is delicate for human hands. I won’t touch them.”
“What a clever girl,” Raymond said, ruffling her hair, and continued reading.
Most lords summoned scribes to read them aloud, but he felt it was a waste of time. As someone who often read letters for the king, he could read far faster than any scribe. Simply by looking, the words appeared before his eyes.
“Father. Why do people only use the fireplace two or three times a month?” Arian asked. Raymond felt a pang of surprise. A five-year-old could not possibly read yet.
But the letter clearly listed hearth usage fees. People used them more in autumn when times were good, but hardly once a month in winter.
“The fireplace belongs to the lord, so I must pay the fee. Spending money always feels stingy.”
“Ugh,” Arian muttered. The child then pondered for a moment.
At that age, children quietly organized their thoughts before speaking, much like an adult learning a foreign language, composing sentences in the mind before opening the mouth.
“Hmm… What if I let people use the fireplace without charging anything?”
A childlike idea. Raymond laughed and set the documents aside, sitting Arian at the desk so she could see him.
“Then how do you propose I buy Arian such a pretty dress?”
“Um… um…” Arian groaned. The conversation was taking too long, and Raymond was about to lift her back onto his lap when she spoke.
“If I use it a lot, it’s three times a month. If little, once.”
“That’s correct.”
“And I also need the mill, wine presses, breweries… all of them require fees.”
“Yes, well done.”
“They’re expensive, so not everyone uses them. They end up eating bad food and become unhealthy.”
Arian began counting on her fingers one by one. Though she refused food and grew thin, her fingers remained plump and irresistibly cute. Raymond gently rubbed his cheek against hers in delight.
Arian shook her head because of the stubble, “Ugh,” then looked up at her father.
“No matter what, the money people can pay is the same. Wood is gathered by themselves, and the workers don’t add to the cost.”
Arian tilted her head. “How about charging an annual fee and allowing more frequent use?”
Raymond did not know it, but Arian had suggested the subscription model of the modern world.
It was certainly a captivating idea. Yet Raymond dismissed it as something a smart child might say. Because,
“Who would agree to pay an annual fee when it means a large sum at once?”
He knew the reality that peasants and villagers barely survived day to day. But Arian answered with a bright smile.
“I could let them pay by installments in autumn.”
“What would the annual fee be?”
It felt odd to discuss such serious matters with a child, yet Raymond continued. The idea was absurd by adult standards, but oddly convincing coming from a child.
“The average amount.”
“It would be easier for people to pay whenever they want than once a year?”
“Paying once when money is most available might be easier. Besides, you’re paying a year in advance, so people can save up.”
Arian tilted her head and began counting again.
“If the quality of food improves, labor will improve too. If people can use these facilities freely and produce goods to sell, the economy will flourish. The number of villagers may increase. Our estate has few free citizens, so tax revenue is lacking. Collection once a year simplifies the process, reducing corruption and administrative costs. Loyalty among the people will rise.”
A child needed considerable time to speak such long sentences. She often furrowed her brow, muttering “um, um…” and produced words far too advanced for a five-year-old. Labor, goods, taxes, collection, corruption, administrative costs…
This was no longer the opinion of a child. Raymond slowly nodded.
“It might be true. But Arian, the process of paying money every time and confirming loyalty to the lord is important too. If you pay annually, the people might forget whose fireplace and mill you provide, who deserves their gratitude.”
“Unlike other estates, ours are full. How can we forget gratitude? If anyone forgets and behaves arrogantly, they can be punished severely. People will support harsh punishment because they know it serves your will and protects you. That is loyalty.”
Raymond gazed at Arian quietly. His eyes no longer held affection or admiration.
He laughed anew at his five-year-old daughter.
“I have given birth to a genius.”
Arian simply blinked her innocent eyes.
David, barely eight at the time, had no idea how extraordinary Arian’s achievement was. Ten-year-old Bertrand only vaguely sensed that his younger sister had conceived something great.
However, Louise, Arian’s mother, was so startled by Raymond’s reaction that she turned to look at the child.
Even today, the little girl, using her small hands to eat a full meal properly, remained focused only on eating, unaware of how extraordinary her thoughts had been.
That year, the Danier estate underwent a major reform to the facility usage fees.
Considering the villagers’ opposition, they allowed single payment, but almost no one chose it because of the installment option. Those who did quickly moved on to Arian’s second plan.
The day before Raymond left, Arian said she would show him something amazing and brought a small barrel. She poured dirty water over it. The water slowly filtered through and emerged clean. Raymond stared at Arian in astonishment.
“I thought about it. Dirt can be filtered into dirt, right? Um, well water is already clean, and if the water doesn’t touch human hands, it should stay clean.”
This was no longer “a clever child.” It was possible this child was something entirely different. She might be a monster or a demon, as people said, but…
Raymond recalled the Saint, Pietia. Pietia had been exactly like Arian—brilliant, and Gerka had whispered that it was the birth of a saint.
Yet the Saint, Pietia, had never shown any prophecy or talent. People had always doubted whether she truly was a saint. There was only one saint in the era. So perhaps…
“If there is a well, it would be fine, but I heard not every village has a well. Opening wells might cause contamination… But people are too afraid to drink river water. They brew alcohol, but the water for that is still river water. If I provide daily clean, filtered water to those paying annual fees, fewer people will fall ill, right?”
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