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Chapter Text

Wow! Clay tablets! I finished the clay tablets! Oh great and mighty Mesopotamian culture, may you live forever!

I had just written the last word of the bedtime story Mom always told me when I was bedridden onto the clay tablets and was savoring the immense sense of accomplishment when I heard a deep, unfamiliar voice burst from the bushes behind me.

“I think I found it!” said the voice, making me turn quickly in its direction. “Look at this, it’s… Hey, what the heck are you kids doing?”

“GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” I slapped my cheeks and screamed in a way that made me look like Edvard Munch’s The Scream itself. What I saw before me was so unbelievable that my mind went blank.

Lutz, holding his gathering basket, ran back to where I was. “What is it, Myne?!”

“This guy stepped on them! He ruined everything! Lutz, I… UWAAAH!” The first half of the story I had fully written—more than half, actually—had become a shapeless mass under the man’s boots. The stranger stared at me, stunned. His bluish-purple hair, stuck all over his face, was drenched in sweat and mud—a funny sight on any other occasion, but at that moment all I felt was despair. The tablets fell apart, and his footprints made the text illegible.

“I-I finally finished them… How cruel! Uwaaah! Do you have any idea how hard I worked to get here?! How hard it was for me to strengthen this weak and sick body…?! I even got Lutz and Tuuli involved to finish them, and even so! GAAAH! YOU IDIOT! STUPID FOOL!”

I glared at the man with all my might, stifling sobs as tears streamed down my face. Anger surged through my body as if it wanted to boil my blood, but somehow my mind was eerily calm. Deep down, I knew I was being immature and that this stranger could be dangerous for all of us, but I just couldn’t calm down.

The stranger’s eyes widened before he shrank back from my glare, slowly retreating in fear.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but this is bad, really bad… Karl, we’ve got an emergency here!”

…I was almost there! Just one more step and I could have made a book, and now it’s all a mess!

“Look, little girl… Myne, right?” the stranger tried to talk, coming closer, and stepped on yet another tablet, which made my anger boil even hotter. I narrowed my eyes and was seized by a wild urge to kick him. That must have shown on my face because the man seemed to choke on his words and stepped back just as a second man, visibly alarmed, appeared behind him.

“What the heck did you do?!?”

“I don’t know!!! Listen, little girl… Myne… you need to calm down!”

“The tablets, sir! Get off of them!” Lutz pointed to the ground, showing the mess that my attempt at making a book had become. The stranger finally realized he was standing on something and leapt backward, bumping comically into his companion.

“Myne, what happened?!” Tuuli, who had run over when she heard me scream, looked at my face and immediately her expression twisted in fear, just like the stranger’s had before. Fey and the others appeared right behind her and also went pale when they saw me. “…What happened? You look really, really angry.” She looked away and glanced around to assess the situation while comforting me. “Myne, you can’t be this angry. I’m sure these gentlemen didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, right?”

Whether or not they meant to hurt me, the destroyed clay tablets wouldn’t come back. My rage at all my effort being wasted couldn’t be soothed by Tuuli’s words alone.

“Whatever! I’ll never forgive him!” With tears and snot running down my face, I glared at the two strangers with all my might as they squirmed. Trembling, the second stranger leaned on his companion to step shakily aside, reached into a pouch at his waist, took something out, and tossed it to Lutz.

“Kid, put this to her forehead, quick!”

Soon after, I felt something touch my forehead and the heat boiling my blood seemed to cool little by little. Lutz, realizing that whatever he had done had worked, gave me a pat on the back.

“I remember you saying you spent three months getting stronger just so you could go to the forest and make [clay tablets]. I get why you’re mad. I get why you don’t want to forgive him, I really do. But no matter how angry you get, what’s done is done. The only thing you can do is make them again. And, yeah, I’ll help you.”

“If we start now, we can reach the gate before it closes. I’ll help, Myne. Okay?” Tuuli immediately agreed, then stepped closer to take a good look at the object Lutz was pressing to my forehead. “Wow, that’s one of those stones animals like shumils leave behind, isn’t it? Only much bigger… Oops! Lutz!”

“Oh no, it broke…” Lutz muttered as he watched a handful of golden sand slip through his fingers. He slowly turned to the two strangers with an apologetic look. “Uh… sorry?”

Luckily for him, though, the men were staring at us in shock, too stunned to care about their broken stone.

The man who had arrived later, with thin reddish-brown hair, elbowed the book-destroyer and waved to us, while his companion cleared his throat and straightened up.

“I still don’t quite understand the situation, but I think I destroyed something important to you. So, besides my deepest apologies, I’ll make myself available to help you. Is that okay?”

Lutz and Tuuli exchanged glances and seemed to come to an understanding, because Lutz stepped forward as if to shield the two of us from the strangers.

Uh… Lutz?

“There’s no need, sir. It’s not a lot of work. The three of us are enough to finish in time.”

“Yes, you seem like someone important. I’m sure you must be busy with… well, important things!” Tuuli hurried to say, and only then did I stop to take a closer look at the two men. I might not be the most knowledgeable about sewing, but it was as clear as day that although their clothes looked plain at first glance and were muddy, they were made from high-quality fabric. That, and the quick, polite speech from before, practically announced money.

And I had yelled at them?!

Stranger number one seemed amused by us and sat down extravagantly.

“Syl—! You know what, never mind…” Stranger number two protested in vain before sitting down as well, and a wave of sympathy for the poor man washed over me. The book-destroying stranger really did seem like a hard person to deal with.

“Luckily for you, I’m nobody important,” he said, pointing to the animals stranger two was carrying. “We also don’t have anything important to do for the rest of the day. We were just out hunting nearby when we heard noises this way and came to see what was going on.”

Tuuli sighed in relief, but Lutz still looked wary.

“You talk kind of funny.”

“And you wear fancy clothes.”

“Oh? This?” Stranger one grabbed his shirt, took a look, laughed, and pointed to his companion. “This guy works as a hunter for a noble, and I help him every now and then. When you’re used to dealing with nobles, you end up speaking a little strangely sometimes. And you get nice clothes, too.”

Stranger two sighed deeply.

“Well, since we’re here, let me introduce us. I’m Syl, and this is Karl. And who are you?”

Tuuli happily introduced us, cutely pointing at each of us as she said our names. She was clearly quite charmed by stranger one’s easy smile.

Tuuli, this is a trap! That awful guy destroyed my tablets! Whose side are you on?!

While I pouted at my sister, Syl clapped his hands to get our attention.

“So? What were those things I stepped on, anyway? Sorry about that, by the way.”

“Clay tablets,” I replied promptly, still sulking.

“And what are they for?”

“To make a book.”

Syl blinked once, then again, before bursting out laughing.

I’m going to kick this guy in the shin! No, Lutz, don’t hold me back! It’s just a little kick, really quick! It won’t even hurt!

Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to take my revenge. To my surprise, Karl pulled a stick out of somewhere and smacked Syl on the head with a loud smack! Syl straightened up quickly, now sulking.

Nice one, Karl!

As it turned out, books in this world are apparently works of art, created on parchment by calligraphers who provide beautiful writing, artists who supply illustrations, and leather craftsmen who make the covers, sometimes encrusted with precious stones and gold details. Looking at it this way, my humble attempt to make a book out of clay tablets really did seem laughable.

Not that I would ever admit that to Syl.

“It’s all the nobles’ fault!” I shouted, frustrated, with my fists clenched.

“Excuse me?!”

“Myne, don’t say something so careless!”

“Books, as you yourself explained, are ridiculously expensive, and a commoner like me could never get her hands on one under normal circumstances. That’s why I decided to make a book myself! Besides, I don’t care about purely ornamental details,” I declared, shrugging and ignoring everyone’s horrified faces. “As long as there’s something written in it, I’ll be satisfied with whatever format it takes.”

After we realized that the two strangers weren’t leaving anytime soon, Tuuli, Lutz, and I assigned Karl, who looked more responsible, to help move the surviving tablets out of the way, while Syl was put in charge of reshaping the destroyed clay into new tablets. Fey and the others were sent back to their gathering, which they seemed oddly eager and grateful to do. I would still have to reread everything to see which parts were missing and rewrite them, so I was wandering around looking for a new stick, since my old one had broken at some point during the earlier chaos.

“If you say so. And who’s going to write on those tablets once they’re ready? Actually, will the ink even stick well to that? I’ve never seen anything like it before…”

“Uh, Syl…” Karl called out from the side, carefully holding one of the undamaged tablets. “They’re already written on. Look.”

Syl looked closely at what his partner showed him and his eyes widened. Then he glanced around at all the tablets Karl had carried and then at the trees, as if searching for someone else.

“Which one of you wrote this?”

Lutz pointed at me. “Myne is the only one of us who knows how to read and write.”

“Wait, really?”

I nodded, proudely puffing out my chest. “Unfortunately, my vocabulary is still limited to what I see daily and what comes to me when I help fill out paperwork at the city gate. There’s no reading material in the lower city, which is a real torment for me, y’know?”

The adults were gaping at me, looking as if I were some kind of transcendental being or something. I squirmed uncomfortably under their attention and gripped the twig I’d picked up earlier.

“What kind of three-year-old says ‘vocabulary’?!”

“Excuse me?!”

Damn you, enemy of dreams and destroyer of books! I know I’m small, but I’m not that small!!! I’m not!!!

“Myne, how old are you?” Karl asked cautiously, ignoring Syl, who was holding his head in his hands.

“I’ll be six in the summer,” I mumbled with a pout.

“What?!” Syl wailed, suddenly even more disturbed. “No, no, no… This can’t be. None of this makes sense! The little girl is literate?! And six years old? You’re tiny! It’s like… It’s like Blau! Karl, doesn’t she look like Blau?!”

“What’s a blau?”

“A shumil he had when he was a child,” Karl supplied, clearly regretting many life choices.

“And what the heck is a shumil?”

“A cute little creature, but small and weak, that even children can hunt,” Tuuli replied next.

“Hey, you, that’s just mean!!!” I shouted, indignant at the disrespect.

“Syl, for all the gods’ sake, don’t provoke the girl any further. We don’t need another outburst here.”

“I’m not provoking her! It’s an observation! And a relevant one! I mean, look at her! She’s smaller than my son, and he’s younger than she is!’

“Wait, you’re a father?!” I asked, horrified.

Now it was Syl’s turn to look offended.

“I am, so what?!”

The sound of Tuuli and Lutz’s laughter echoed among us, making me momentarily forget the ongoing argument. I looked at them, very confused.

“Sorry, Myne,” Lutz said between laughs. “But now that Syl mentioned it, I realized you really do look like a shumil.”

“Lutz, not you too!”

Tuuli wiped her tears with the back of her hand and gave me a pat on the head, mocking my sulky face with a wry smile.

“Our Myne was born quite weak, you know? She’s always sick, so she didn’t grow much,” she explained, her hand gently stroking my hair. “Today, in fact, was the first time she came to the forest walking on her own. Before that, we always had to carry her part of the way.”

“Sick, huh? What’s that like? She looks pretty energetic to me,” Karl commented. He held his chin and narrowed his eyes, observing me closely.

Lutz shrugged.

“She never has the strength or stamina for physical work.”

“And she always has a high fever every few days. We never really knew why, right, Myne?”

“I see…” Syl murmured.

I was surprised to realize that he, in a rare moment of silence, was also watching me. For a brief instant, I thought I saw a knowing glint in his green eyes that gave me chills.

“By the way, does that happen often?” Syl asked, returning to his cheeky tone. He ran a piece of rag that Lutz had given him between his fingers, carefully cleaning the clay from his hands. A strange, satisfied smile played on his lips, but I pushed aside any thoughts I had about that for the moment. I had more important things to worry about. The newly made tablets were already all set out, ready to receive the text. I had just read all the others and mentally noted which parts would go on each tablet.

I was heading toward the first one to start my part of the work, when Tuuli spoke up.

“That what?”

“You know. The little one getting scary. She gets so angry she loses control and goes…” Syl trailed off, making wild gestures around his own head.

What?

“Not many times. Only sometimes, when Myne gets irrational for some reason,” Tuuli replied, scratching her head and thinking hard. I didn’t understand any of it, but looking at Lutz and Tuuli, it seemed like they knew exactly what Syl was talking about.

“What are you guys talking about?” I asked, confused, but was ignored.

“Has anyone else seen this happen besides us?” Karl asked next, in a neutral tone.

“I think just our parents. Why?”

“Is Myne in trouble?”

Tuuli and Lutz’s worried glances darted from me to the men and back again, but I had no idea what they were talking about. Karl and Syl didn’t seem particularly alarmed, but there was a hidden seriousness in Karl’s question that I could still sense.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Syl said. “But, either way, it’s probably best if we keep this a secret, don’t you think? No one would be happy to hear that a scary shumil girl is roaming around threatening everyone’s peace, right?”

Lutz and Tuuli nodded solemnly, not paying attention to my growing confusion.

But what the heck are they talking about, anyway?!

After that, and with no one explaining anything to me about what was going on, I quickly set about writing the missing parts of the story of the star children. While I worked hard, Syl and Karl stayed close by, praising my handwriting and, from time to time, correcting a word I wrote wrong. It was during this process that they told me my writing level was advanced for my age, even by noble standards, which surprised me a lot.

Another thing that surprised me was that, despite our previous disagreements, I found myself having fun throughout the short time under their guidance. Karl was definitely a patient man, and Syl, even though he was terribly childish, proved to be honest and genuinely interested in my progress. Also, although they were strange, neither of them seemed to want to hurt or harm any of us.

However, after such a stressful day and so many enigmatic conversations, it was no surprise to anyone that, the next morning, I woke up with a fever and was forbidden from getting out of bed that day.

Chapter Text

After that day, Lutz and I saw Syl and Karl a few more times. When my attempts with clay ended in disaster, it was time to invest in carving wood and making a roll of mokkan.

I took advantage of the fact that Dad gave me a knife as a present to put my plan into action. This happened because I earned the right to take on the responsibilities that Tuuli left behind after her baptism and the start of her apprenticeship as a seamstress.

I was sitting under the shade of a tree, looking discouraged at the ugly sticks my trembling hands had tried to peel when I heard Syl’s voice coming from inside the forest, just as mocking and irritating as I remembered.

Lutz chuckled when he noticed my sulky face.

“Hey, isn’t that the shumil girl?” Syl said, approaching us.

“Where’s Karl?” Lutz, who was closer to Syl, asked while looking around.

“Today it’s just me.”

He carried some slaughtered animals tied over one shoulder and a bow on the other. His boots were still as muddy as before, and his shirt was soaked with blood dripping from the dead animals.

I grimaced in disgust at the sight, drawing his attention to the state of his clothes.

“Well, I admit I’m not at my best today…” he said, shrugging. “Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about the blood.”

“Actually, you can.”

I stood up and led him to the stream, near the place where Lutz had previously dug clay for the tablets. I pointed to the water and turned back to my sticks, when Syl called out:

“Hey, shumil girl, why are you leaving? What do I do?”

I turned to Syl, ready to scold him for joking, when I realized he was genuinely confused and waiting for my answer.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

And that’s how, suddenly, I became the personal hygiene teacher of a grown man. At that point, I was convinced Syl wasn’t being entirely honest with us about his origins.

Either that, or he was a completely non-functional adult.

Lutz helped Syl take off his shoes and roll up his pants. Then he led him into the middle of the stream. While I gave instructions on how he should clean himself, Lutz decided to wash the blood-soaked shirt. We didn’t have soap available, so we had to settle for a less-than-perfect job. Still, once everything was done, Syl looked much better than when he arrived.

“Thanks for the help, kids. I feel much more refreshed!” Syl exclaimed, laughing loosely. “Now, tell me, what were you up to before I got here?”

I explained that my attempts with clay had literally exploded and that I was now focusing on a new strategy. Syl got excited about the idea, though he looked very alarmed at the knife I carried. After practically snatching it from my hands, he spent the next few minutes carving sticks with Lutz.

“Are you going to carve the letters into the wood this time?” he asked at some point, looking quite uncertain between the knife and my small hands.

To be honest, I completely understood his concern.

“I don’t think I could, even if I tried,” I confessed with a defeated sigh. Syl and Lutz nodded, convinced. “This time, it’ll have to be with ink.”

“Ink is very expensive, y’know.”

“Really?”

I was thinking of asking Otto to start paying me with ink instead of chalk, but if ink was as expensive as Syl suggested, that would be a problem. I held my chin with my fingers and began to think. I had just overcome one obstacle in my quest to create books, only for another to appear right after.

How frustrating!

“Will I have to find another way to get ink too?”

Syl widened his eyes, completely surprised. “You also know how to make ink?”

“Wait, what is ink, anyway?” Lutz suddenly asked.

“Um, a black liquid used to write letters on things, and…” It was hard to explain ink to someone unfamiliar with it. I just said what came to mind, and eventually Lutz replied while scratching his chin.

“Black stuff? If you just want to stain things like that, why not use soot or ashes or something?”

“What a great idea! Let’s try it!” Burnt wood left plenty of soot and ashes, so I could get what I needed at home. We’d even burn firewood today. No doubt I could get ashes immediately.

“Wait, seriously?!” Syl asked, incredulous. “I don’t think ink works that way.”

“Well, logically, it wouldn’t be the same ink you’d normally see around. Not even close,” I agreed reluctantly.

Lutz shrugged, unimpressed. “But if it has the same effect, it doesn’t matter if it’s a different ink. Or does it?”

Syl and I looked at each other and shrugged too. Lutz had a point, after all.

That day, Syl accompanied us to the city gate, but didn’t cross with us. He argued he had other business to take care of before going home, but as we stood at the gate watching him disappear into the forest again, it was clear to me and Lutz that neither of us believed him.

The next time I saw Syl, he was in a hurry and carried no hunted animals. And once again, Karl was nowhere to be seen. In fact, it was strange that he was wandering around without any reason.

I had just explained to a freshly washed-hair Lutz how a job interview worked, when something suddenly jumped out of the trees, startling us. Syl looked breathless and worried, scanning me from head to toe.

“Hey, shumil girl, I heard you were very sick recently. How are you feeling?”

The question truly surprised me. I didn’t expect Syl to be so concerned about me, especially in that rushed and restless way, as if he had dropped everything just to make sure I was okay. I looked at Lutz, who scratched his head and seemed a bit embarrassed. Finally, he shrugged. “He showed up one of the days you were bedridden.”

Before I could answer, Syl continued, showing a mix of relief and anxiety upon seeing me standing. He seemed genuinely apprehensive as I described how my strange fevers came and went, and how this time things seemed more serious than usual. That attitude, in a way, made me smile and relax a little, feeling that despite the hard days, there were people around me who truly cared.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” I said at last. “I also regret that your help with the sticks was wasted.”

“No problem, but…” Syl stopped himself, seeming like he wanted to say more, but ended up just shaking his head abruptly. Then he smiled and changed the subject. “Well? What’s the next step now? Something tells me you haven’t given up yet.”

“Not at all!” I affirmed, clenching my fists with fervor. “As for the next step… That will depend on how things go tomorrow.”

Syl arched an eyebrow, clearly interested. Before I realized it, the three of us were already sitting on the ground, forming a small circle under the shade of the nearby trees. The filtered light created soft patterns on the ground, and the atmosphere felt peaceful—almost inviting us to share secrets.

As I began to recount how I had met Otto and, little by little, started helping with the paperwork at the south gate, Syl watched me with an increasingly intrigued expression. At one point, he even made a slight grimace of displeasure, perhaps at hearing how someone like me—an outsider and so young—ended up involved in such important matters in the city. His gaze shifted between Lutz and me, as if he was trying to piece together this unusual puzzle.

Then, without realizing it, I mentioned Lutz’s former dream: to become a traveling merchant. Syl furrowed his brow, visibly perplexed by the idea, and for a few seconds he remained silent, unsure how to respond. He seemed to be trying to process the information, his narrowed eyes showing both confusion and curiosity.

“I… I don’t get it,” Syl began, choosing his words carefully. “But why?” he asked, leaning forward a bit as if searching for the answer between the lines.

“Why what?” Lutz replied, not immediately understanding what Syl was getting at.

“Why become a traveling merchant, specifically?” Syl insisted, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and concern.

Caught off guard by the direct question, Lutz blushed slightly and looked down for a moment. Then he took a deep breath, gathering the courage to explain:

“I… I’ve always wanted to see the world out there,” he began, hesitant, but his voice gained strength, just like the time he’d told me the same thing. “I don’t want to spend my whole life just here. I want to travel, see different places, learn new things.”

Hearing this, Syl looked even more unsettled. He wrinkled his nose, clearly perplexed.

“But would you give up your city citizenship for that?” Syl asked, his voice almost alarmed.

“Huh? City citizenship? What’s that?” Lutz replied, confused, staring at Syl. I had never heard that term before either, but I could imagine it meant someone’s right to be a citizen living in a city. And although I couldn’t see exactly how one thing led to another, I could only assume that the life of a traveling merchant also meant not belonging anywhere.

Syl fell silent, clearly tempted to explain more about the risks and consequences of such a choice. His eyes met mine, uncertain, as if he understood that his worries reflected my own and was asking for permission or support to continue. I, however, just nodded, silently asking him to drop the subject for now. After all, it wasn’t our role to give Lutz all the answers at that moment. Otto would probably touch on this in our next meeting, and some realities could only be understood when lived or heard from those who had lived them.

Syl then looked away, resigned, but couldn’t hide his concern. He looked back and forth between Lutz and me in silence, digesting everything he had heard. Deep down, the interview tomorrow would serve precisely for Lutz to reflect on the kind of sacrifice and profound changes that awaited him if he truly wanted to pursue that dream, even in the face of risks and uncertainties.

“Anyway,” I took the initiative and steered the conversation in a new direction, turning my gaze away from Lutz and focusing on what really mattered. “Thanks to Otto’s help, I managed to schedule a meeting with an experienced merchant who might accept us as apprentices if all goes as planned. I have a proposal in mind to present to him, and if everything works out, this could represent the beginning of a new era, Syl! I’m going to give it my very best and finally get the book I’ve been dreaming of!”

Syl, surprised by my excitement, raised an eyebrow and argued, “But wait, don’t you think you two are still too young to get involved in something like this?”

Maybe, but… No! Syl, you don’t understand! My book can’t wait any longer!

Curiously, Syl disappeared completely during the entire summer and autumn. Although his presence wasn’t indispensable for papermaking, I couldn’t help but feel like showing him the result of our effort after so many previous failuresFinally, the plant paper was ready!

During this period, I managed to save a considerable amount of money. This happened thanks to selling the rights to market rinsham and plant paper to Benno, as well as negotiating some hairpins. The hairpins, in fact, opened unexpected doors: it was through them that I met Freida, granddaughter of the leader of Ehrenfest’s Merchant’s Guild. Sharing with me the same illness—the Devouring—Freida explained details about how the disease worked. Knowing there was someone who understood my condition so well brought me relief, and soon she became a friend.

Winter came quickly, bringing with it the handiwork season. This time, I involved Mom and Tuuli in making hairpins, making the activity more efficient and profitable. That’s how, on a cold morning, I went to Gilberta Company with Lutz to sell the newly finished hairpins, but ended up collapsing again. When I regained consciousness, I realized I was in the guildmaster’s house. Benno and Lutz had taken me there, seeking emergency help. Then the guildmaster used a magical tool to extract the fever caused by the Devouring, which reminded me of the time Karl and Syl had done something similar when we first met.

And, just like that time, Freida’s magical tool turned into golden sand. Since I had to pay the exorbitant price of two small gold coins and eight large silver to Freida, I was truly grateful that Syl and Karl hadn’t charged us for their tool.

After that, Freida explained more deeply about the future expected for someone like us, commoners afflicted by the Devouring: a binding contract with a noble. And apparently, I would need to do something similar to obtain magical tools that could keep the disease under control.

Or die within a year.

With these thoughts spinning in my head, I met Benno at his shop the day after returning home, only to find him exhausted and with a heavy expression.

“Did something happen, Benno?” I asked, glancing at Lutz, who looked as lost as I was.

“Yes, something did,” Benno replied, the weight of the world in his voice. “Come back here tomorrow morning without fail. We’ll have a meeting with very important people.”

That would be a bit difficult, since normally I couldn’t leave home once the snow began to build up. However, something told me I had no choice this time.

“Business, boss?” Lutz asked, curious and worried at the same time.

“Something like that.”

Benno quickly instructed us to wear our best clothes and behave with the utmost politeness. The way he pulled at his own hair while giving us directions made it clear how nervous he was. While I tried to imagine the kind of meeting awaiting us, Benno asked me to report how my stay at the guildmaster’s house had gone.

For a moment, I almost wished he would return to the subject of the meeting, especially after admitting that I had given away a valuable recipe to Freida for free. Benno was definitely not happy to hear that.

“There’s no helping it. The way things are going, we’ll need extra protective measures for you.” He sighed, frustrated. What? “I knew you were careless, but I’m surprised someone so smart can be so clueless. Mark, bring the parchment. We’ll make a contract.”

Excuse me?! Why something so sudden?!

“Huh… What kind of contract?”

“A contract that ensures the things you make will be sold by Lutz.”

“But why?” I asked, confused, while Benno leaned back in his chair before explaining.

“For now, it’s just a precaution. But I have reason to believe you’ll soon be targeted by nobles.”

Bwah?!

I stared at Benno in shock as he received a sheet of parchment and a knife from Mark. Benno explained that Freida would be able to find her family after moving to her master’s residence because her family were merchants approved by the nobility. My family, on the other hand, was completely ordinary and therefore vulnerable.

“Let’s be honest, a thoughtless idiot like you would fall into a noble’s trap and be dragged to the other side of the wall easily. This will allow us to contact you after that happens. Not even nobles can defy the magic of contracts.”

“Benno, do you think my family is in danger?” I asked, worried, watching him hurry to draft the contract.

“When it comes to nobles, commoners will always be in danger, Myne. But if we know how to negotiate with them, danger becomes opportunity. That’s why we need every guarantee and protection possible.”

Benno had more information and a broader perspective than I did, so he was more apprehensive about it. Using his fingers, he listed all the things we needed to do to ensure my safety: first of all, the contract binding me to Lutz; then, we would need to officially create the Myne Workshop and register me as its master. That would allow me to continue producing and selling products.

“Depending on the status of the nobles we’ll deal with, money won’t be the main attraction, though resources are always a great bargaining chip. What matters here are your revolutionary inventions,” Benno explained. “Remember: nobles value mana above all; then comes influence.” I nodded, though I didn’t fully understand. I knew some of my creations were different, but I didn’t imagine they could influence someone so much. “In fact, if your products aren’t enough, your trump will be your mana. Don’t forget that.”

“What do you mean ‘my mana’?” I asked, which shocked Benno so much he was left gaping, holding his head in disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t realized it yet. The Devouring refers to the state in which someone loses control of the mana inside them.”

“What?!”

“You regain control of your mana by transferring the excess into a magical tool.”

Well, that explained why Freida had said magical tools were the only ‘cure’ for the Devouring. And also why they were so expensive.

“There are many details involving mana for nobles, especially in politics, but we’re in a hurry. Just know that nobles use mana to perform certain religious ceremonies, like the spring blessing. These ceremonies are important to nourish farmland. Without nobles, there’s no mana. And that basically means poor harvests. Currently, the entire country is facing a deep decline in the number of nobles and, with it, a shortage of mana. So they would never let someone like you, an easy source of mana, walk around freely.”

It was a lot to take in. I had only come to report my recovery and thank him for his help only to suddenly hear a lecture about mana and how nobles could ruin everything around me at any moment.

I was still stunned when the magical contract was read, signed, and sealed in blood. As soon as the parchment burned, Benno picked me up and headed for the door, followed by Lutz and Mark.

“Now, pay close attention, Myne,” he continued, lowering his voice so only we could hear. “The nobles will exploit you. You have mana, money, and knowledge worth even more money. Instead of simply submitting and letting yourself be exploited, exploit them too for your own benefit. If you’re going to be kidnapped and enslaved anyway, at least open your options for a slightly better future. Watch carefully. Choose carefully. Think carefully. Don’t just sit in a daze and go with the flow. Flail as hard as you can to survive.”

“Mr. Benno, why do you do so much for me?” I asked, not understanding his dedication to helping and guiding me.

“The longer you survive, the more new products you can make. If I can keep my shop tied to you, that means profit for me. It’s good for both of us, right? That’s all.” Benno frowned. But Mark commented, laughing, that Benno just worries about me since I always cause unexpected problems and danger. He also added that it’s rare to have to take care of someone so closely, but he and Benno consider me almost like family.

I was truly moved.

Chapter Text

To my surprise, the officialization of the Myne Workshop was quite easy, requiring only a bit more bureaucracy because I had not yet been baptized. Benno explained to me that, although there was no rule preventing an unbaptized child from leading their own workshop, that was only because nobody would ever imagine a child capable of doing so.

Benno offered to act as my legal and financial representative until I was old enough, taking on the role of a legal guardian or guarantor, like one would in the dream world.

And so, after a few confused looks from the Guild clerk and some paperwork filled out, the Myne Workshop was truly created!

Dawn brought with it an intense cold, the kind that seems to pierce any barrier. Looking out the window, I watched the snow cover the streets like a white mantle, making the idea of leaving home practically unthinkable for Mom, who was absolutely opposed to my going out. It took a long conversation, filled with arguments and negotiations, before we reached an agreement: I would wear several extra layers of clothing—which would keep me warmer but less mobile—and Dad would carry me in his arms to the store. Lutz had already left earlier as he needed to help with preparations for the important meeting that day.

When we arrived in front of the store, the scene that awaited us was unusually serious. Mark and Lutz were there, both with tense expressions, as if an invisible weight hovered over them. Dad, suspicious, hesitated for a moment before carefully passing me into Mark’s arms like a doll. Together, we walked down the hallway to the meeting room. The silence was absolute, which only increased my feeling that something important was about to happen.

Unable to contain my concern, I ventured to ask, trying to break the heavy atmosphere: “Mark, Lutz, is everything okay?”

Lutz murmured a quiet “Sorry, Myne,” which made me uneasy, but Mark, forcing a smile, tried to reassure me.

“We’re just a bit tense, Myne. Today’s guests are much more important than we first thought,” Mark replied, his voice low as we approached the meeting room door. He gave me an encouraging look. “Remember everything Master Benno taught you yesterday. Behave well and do your best, alright?”

I took a deep breath, trying to summon courage, and nodded. Mark, signaling the start of what felt like a decisive moment, opened the door silently and with all possible care.

Of all the people I thought might be waiting for me on the other side of the door, Syl and Karl were at the very bottom of the list. They were seated with imposing postures, dressed in elegant clothes and without any trace of the laid-back air Syl usually carried. It unsettled me as the atmosphere was quite different from usual. Only then did I realize that this meeting was probably of much greater magnitude than I could have supposed.

Mark set me gently on the floor and quickly took off two of the layers of clothing that had hampered my movements. Benno seemed about to stand and come over to me, but Syl gestured for him to stay where he was, and he obeyed. After that, Mark guided me to one of the available seats, while Lutz remained by my side, silent, alert, and attentive to everything around.

In addition to the tea served to the guests, several items I had created and given to Benno were displayed: samples of rinsham, hairpins, scented candles, and sheets of tracing paper. Near the table, there were also many high-quality fabrics. I figured Benno was keeping the men busy by trying to sell these products while they waited for my arrival.

The tension was only broken when Benno cleared his throat and finally addressed everyone. “Thank you for coming, Myne,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “I believe formal introductions are necessary. These are Lord Sylvester and Lord Karstedt, nobles from Ehrenfest. Gentlemen, I imagine you already know Myne.”

“Indeed,” one of them replied briefly.

Bwah?! I mean, I knew they weren’t just simple hunters, but… Nobles?!

Lord Sylvester immediately noticed my surprise and let slip an ironic smile, probably amused by my astonishment.

That was when I suddenly remembered, with a chill running down my spine, that I had already spoken badly about the nobles in their presence, not knowing their true identities. If I was nervous before, now a silent panic was taking over me.

Is this where it all ends for me? Sorry, Mom, Dad, Tuuli… I promise I won’t come back to haunt you if I become a ghost…

While I was lost in these desperate thoughts, a loud noise near my face snapped me out of my trance. Lord Sylvester was snapping his fingers in front of my nose with a serious expression, and Lutz pressed something cold to my forehead, trying to bring me back to reality.

“Things must be really complicated if something so simple can make you lose focus like that. Pay attention, shumil girl, or we won’t be able to move forward,” said Lord Sylvester, accepting a stone shining pale yellow from Lutz. The unspoken message was clear: I needed to leave my previous mistakes behind and focus on the present. He then turned to Benno: “You mentioned using a magic tool to treat her collapse. Shouldn’t that have solved part of the problem?”

Benno replied in a regretful tone, “Unfortunately, the tool we had at our disposal was far below the ideal quality. It helped reduce Myne’s fever, but it disintegrated soon after. We thought that would guarantee a year of peace, but apparently we underestimated her mana level.”

Lord Sylvester frowned, visibly dissatisfied. “I personally saw Myne turn a high-quality feystone into golden sand in moments. Anything not made for an archnoble would not withstand her mana,” he commented, making Benno even more tense.

“Unfortunately, tools of that level would never reach our hands, Lord Sylvester. And even if by some miracle they did, we wouldn’t have the resources to obtain them,” Benno explained, revealing the limitations of handling the situation.

Lord Sylvester sighed, “True. Given this scenario, all we can do is be frank about the situation and the possible options. I hope you agree as Myne’s guardian and guarantor, Benno.”

Benno nodded, acknowledging the need for clarity. “Your honesty will be very helpful, Lord Sylvester. Thank you.”

Lord Sylvester then turned to me: “Myne, I believe you already know that your illness is not really a disease, correct?”

“Yes, Benno has already explained it to me. It’s not a disease, it’s an excess of mana.”

“Exactly. Under normal circumstances, children with the Devouring do not survive very long, and with your mana level, it is almost a miracle you are still alive. I will not ask how you managed that, but the truth is that as a commoner, your options are limited.”

I remembered previous conversations with Freida and Benno, feeling the weight of those words.

Lord Sylvester continued in a solemn tone: “After talking with Karstedt, we agreed that the best would be for you to be taken in by his family, baptized as his and his first wife’s daughter. That way, you would be protected, have opportunities, and be able to continue your business. It is quite a favorable arrangement, if I may say so.”

Benno seemed surprised. From what we discussed before, we thought we’d have to negotiate a lot to ensure the operation of the paper production and my products.

However, even with conditions that seemed so favorable, I couldn’t feel satisfied.

“Lord Sylvester, excuse me…” I asked, trying to sound as respectful as possible. He raised an eyebrow, allowing me to continue.

“Speak.”

“With all due respect, I don’t wish to accept this arrangement.”

The shock was immediate: everyone in the room, except Lord Sylvester, turned pale. He simply sighed in resignation.

“You did not like the terms, or do you not trust that Karstedt and his wife will treat you well?”

I vigorously shook my head.

“It’s not that. If everything I experienced with you was genuine—”

“It was,” both nobles replied in unison. “Maybe we were not completely honest about our positions, but we never wished to harm you, Myne,” Lord Sylvester reassured.

I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling confident to continue. “I know Lord Karstedt is a fair and generous man, but I don’t want to be separated from my family,” I confessed, my voice trembling with sadness.

Lord Sylvester nodded, understanding.

“I thought you might say that. But you need to understand: neither you nor your family are safe. If you refuse, the excess mana will eventually kill you, and worse, it could put everyone around you at risk. Is that what you want?”

Those words chilled me to the bone. I looked for some support from Benno, but found only a saddened gaze, as if he were reliving painful memories. Mark, behind him, confirmed everything with just a nod.

So it was true.

“More than that, Myne, I am a father, as you know,” Lord Sylvester continued, wearing a worried expression. “I cannot imagine your parents would rather see their daughter die in their arms than let her go to a safe place. ”

I tried to reply, but no sound came out. Benno then spoke up, composing himself, and looked firmly at Lord Sylvester. Mark also straightened, attentive.

“Just so we’re clear, Lord Sylvester: you’re offering for Myne to become a legitimate noble, with all the rights and privileges that her new status would grant, and without any issue that a commoner’s past might bring, is that correct?”

“Exactly.”

“And she’ll be able to keep her businesses and projects, without being required to transfer them to the new family?”

“That’s exactly what I said. Do you still think the terms are bad?”

Benno muttered under his breath before returning to a formal tone, “On the contrary, it’s much more generous than we expected.” He took a deep breath. “But I’d like to know: what would happen to Myne’s family in this case?”

Lord Sylvester seemed surprised, but soon gave a small, lopsided smile.

“I understand. Terms this good might be hiding an unfavorable condition, right?”

Benno nodded, tense.

“Do you know what the norm is in these cases?”

“Norm?” I asked, feeling my chest tighten.

“Would you like to explain it to her?”

Benno turned to me, hesitant.

“Myne, by becoming a noble, your commoner past would be seen as a stain to be erased. In such cases, it’s common for any connection to the past to be eliminated—unfortunately, including the family.”

A sharp chill ran through my body. I looked at Lord Sylvester, feeling panic take over.

Tears welled up before I could stop them. I sobbed desperately, “Are you going to hurt my family? Please, don’t!”

Lord Sylvester and Lord Karstedt were startled by my reaction.

“Calm down, Myne, your family will not be harmed. I promise,” Lord Sylvester assured me, his voice weary. “I just want you to understand that your case is being treated as an exception in every sense.”

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself.

Lord Sylvester then concluded, “There’s no point in expecting a rational decision from you now while you are so unstable. Go home, talk to your parents, and rest. You have until your baptism to decide.”

“I understand,” I replied, still feeling a tightness in my chest, but now with a bit more clarity about the seriousness of the situation.

“One more thing,” Lord Sylvester added before I left, “until your baptism, I leave you this suggestion as proof of our goodwill: go to the temple and become a blue shrine maiden apprentice. There, someone I completely trust will take care of you until you are ready to decide. And besides, the temple has instruments capable of absorbing the excess mana, preventing new collapses.”

“Go to the temple and become an apprentice blue shrine maiden. Alright, I understand.”

“Good,” he agreed, ending the meeting.

Lord Sylvester stood up slowly, casting one last appraising look my way, as if making sure I truly understood the weight of all that had been said. Lord Karstedt, silent, nodded before following him out the door. The atmosphere in the room was still heavy, but there was a sense of restrained relief. As if, for now at least, we’d reached some possible consensus.

Mark accompanied me home, carrying me so I wouldn’t have to walk along the foggy roads. His presence was comforting, a kind of silent shield against the storm of emotions inside me. I realized that Mark understood my need for silence to digest everything that had happened at the meeting with the nobles, and I was very grateful for that. Only when we saw the outline of my house did I feel the need to break that quiet. The weight of everything that happened still hung over me like a thick cloud, but perhaps voicing my thoughts would make them feel a little lighter.

“Mark, I know Benno suggested I not dwell on the conversation before resting, but… the truth is, I need to hear a different opinion. My head is spinning, and I want to know how you see all this,” I confessed, feeling a certain urgency in my words.

He paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and looked at me with an understanding expression before replying, “Myne… I understand how you feel. And if you think I can help, I’ll try. What exactly do you want to know?”

“Benno really seemed to believe that Lord Sylvester’s proposal would be the best for me. Do you agree with him?” I asked, searching Mark’s face for any clue of his true opinion.

Mark thought for a few seconds before responding, his voice low and calm: “I can’t deny that, at first glance and through an emotional lens, everything seemed cold and impersonal, almost cruel. And you’re right to feel that way, especially since we come from a world with different values. But if you look at it with a bit of distance, you’ll see that Master Benno was right to consider the proposal generous. In the world of nobles, it’s common for them to impose their will on others, without leaving room for negotiation. The simple fact that Lord Sylvester opened a dialogue, offered options, and tried to understand your reasons is already something rare. They’re so used to exploiting those beneath them as a farmer is to harvesting what the land can offer. It’s not a matter of kindness or malice, but of social structure.”

Mark’s words, though harsh, made sense. The comparison seemed strange at first—I didn’t know how to feel about being equated to a resource, like cattle or a harvest—but despite my discomfort, I understood that he was simply trying to show the fundamental difference between our realities. It was as if the nobles’ common sense was shaped by rules very different from ours.

“So you realize that Lord Sylvester could have simply ordered your removal from home, without giving you choices or explanations? And nobody would have the power to stop him. But he chose to talk, to propose conditions, and to listen to your arguments. That, Myne, is extraordinary among nobles. I, who have dealt with many of them, have rarely seen such willingness to dialogue and respect the feelings of someone from a lower class.”

Thinking from that perspective, I started to understand Benno’s shock. The result of that meeting really defied what anyone would expect from an encounter with nobles.

“To be honest, I don’t know exactly what happened between you and Lord Sylvester, but clearly he was impressed. Enough to prefer getting your consent rather than simply demanding your obedience.”

I remembered, embarrassed, the moments when I had lost my temper in front of Sylvester, or that strange episode when Lutz and I helped him clean up at the creek. In light of everything that had happened, those memories seemed almost unreal, as if they belonged to another life.

“Mark, there’s something that’s been bothering me since the meeting: why, even though it was Lord Sylvester who led the whole conversation, is the proposal that I be taken in by Lord Karstedt’s family? Doesn’t that seem strange to you?”

“Actually, it’s not strange. It’s exactly what one would expect in noble circles,” Mark replied promptly, as if he had already given it some thought.

“Does that mean Lord Sylvester might have forced Lord Karstedt to adopt me?”

“That possibility exists, of course. His status allows for such an imposition. However, I don’t believe that’s what happened. Lord Karstedt seemed perfectly satisfied with the arrangement, after all.”

“I see…” I murmured, feeling that, little by little, I was starting to understand the nuances of what was going on. The dynamics among the nobles were more complex than I had imagined.

When I got home, I was surprised to find my father sitting at the table, silently staring at a glass of wine. The scene unsettled me. It wasn’t common to see him at home at that hour, much less drinking during the day. Normally, he’d be at the gate, doing his work shift.

Did he not go to work at the gate after dropping me off at Benno’s shop?

Besides the unusual situation, my father’s face bore a heavy, almost somber expression, and his eyes seemed distant, as if trying to process something difficult that had happened. Maybe something serious occurred at the gate, forcing him to come home earlier than expected. My mother, meanwhile, gave a discreet smile when she saw me enter with Mark, but quickly made a subtle gesture, indicating I should avoid questions or comments at that moment.

It seemed everyone had had a tough day, after all.

Two days went by and the tense atmosphere at home remained practically unchanged, as if a heavy cloud hung over everyone. I waited anxiously for a moment when my father’s mood would improve so I could bring up the conversation with Lord Sylvester without causing more concern. However, having fallen ill right after the meeting only made the apprehension worse. The environment got even heavier; my mother, always by my side in my room, had a silent sadness in her eyes, as if trapped in thoughts she wouldn’t share. My father, meanwhile, remained gloomy and withdrawn. Even Tuuli noticed the discomfort and tried to ask our parents what was going on, but they dodged the questions, keeping the mystery.

When my fever finally dropped and I could get out of bed, I decided I couldn’t postpone that talk any longer. Winter was approaching, and I knew my health would likely only get worse. That sense of urgency felt like a silent clock, constantly reminding me that time was running out. The certainty that I needed to act gave me the courage to gather everyone at the table that night.

I sat down with my family, took a deep breath to gather strength, and began to tell them everything that had been happening, from the first meetings with Syl and Karl—facts Tuuli already knew—to the details of the mysterious meeting at Benno’s shop that had taken place days before. As much as part of me wanted to steer the conversation so that Mom and Dad would oppose the idea of adoption—maybe hoping they could simply refuse everything and I wouldn’t have to leave them—I resisted the temptation. I knew I needed to be honest and that we all had to decide together, with clarity and awareness of what was at stake. It was fair to them, to myself, and even to Lord Sylvester, after all we’d talked about.

Despite all the fear I felt, after talking with Mark, I realized I owed this frankness not just to my family, but also out of consideration for Lord Sylvester, who seemed genuinely concerned about my well-being.

Tuuli was left open-mouthed by my story, but to my surprise, my parents didn’t react the same way. They seemed to already know part of what I was saying, which left me puzzled.

I looked at them, confused, searching for answers in their faces.

Mom let out a long sigh, then looked at me with a sad smile, as if she were about to reveal something painful, but necessary.

“Myne, that morning, we also had a meeting here at home, similar to the one you described.”

Bwah?! What do you mean?!

Tuuli and I exchanged glances, both equally perplexed by this unexpected revelation.

“Yes,” Dad continued with a stern look. “I dropped you off at Benno’s shop and went straight to the gate, like I do every day, but I didn’t even get to start my shift. A higher order arrived, giving me special permission to take the day off and instructing me to return home immediately. I rushed out, thinking Effa and Tuuli were in danger. But when I got here, I found a strange man in our living room.”

“Your father thought we were being kidnapped!” Mom added, trying to ease the tension with a slight smile. “It’s a good thing I managed to stop him before he did anything reckless. I can only imagine the chaos if he’d decided to confront the man.”

“Effa, that guy was way too weird! He kept wandering around the house, touching everything he saw!”

Mom shook her head at Dad’s impulsive attitude, and he started grumbling again, clearly uncomfortable with the memory.

“The man introduced himself as the High Priest of the temple. He came on a special mission to offer you an opportunity to join the temple.”

“A noble! In our house! And wanting to take my little girl!” Dad exclaimed, still shaken. “I had no idea how they found out about you, but what you just told us makes everything fit together.”

For a moment, I wondered if Lord Sylvester was the one who sent someone to pressure my parents, but I quickly dismissed the thought. If he really wanted to intimidate them, he wouldn’t have suggested the temple at the end of our meeting. I shared this doubt and Mom agreed with me, shaking her head.

“The man didn’t intimidate us, Myne. Your father is exaggerating,” Mom said, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Seriously?

I looked at Mom, surprised, while Dad kept muttering in protest.

“He explained your illness to us,” Mom continued, ignoring Dad’s grumbling, “and said it wasn’t actually a common illness, which is why there’s no cure. He also explained that you would only survive if you had access to something capable of absorbing the mana that’s building up inside you.”

I nodded, feeling the weight of that shared truth.

“Finally, he mentioned the temple. He explained that you’d have the privilege of joining as an apprentice blue shrine maiden, receiving education, servants, a regular income, and the best medical care available in the duchy. You’d even be allowed to come home every day. But in return, you’d have to donate mana and help with some administrative tasks at the temple.”

“Only until your baptism!” Dad interrupted, still uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading.

Mom nodded, showing exhaustion from having discussed this topic so many times before. The tired look she gave Dad made it clear this battle had already been fought.

“After your baptism, you would be taken in by a noble family.”

“I’m not going to let them take you away, Myne!” Dad exclaimed, a mix of desperation and love in his voice.

“That’s right, Myne! We’re going to protect you!” Tuuli agreed firmly.

A wave of joy and emotion washed over me. A few tears silently rolled down my face as I got up from my chair and hugged Dad tightly. Still, behind that relief, Lord Sylvester’s words kept echoing in my mind, bringing a hard-to-ignore uneasiness. I looked at Mom and saw in her eyes that she didn’t want to see me go either, but she also understood the real danger of becoming the target of the nobles’ attention.

“Thank you, Dad, Tuuli. Really. But we can’t pretend it’s that simple,” I said, wiping my tears and looking at them seriously. “I would never forgive myself if I put you all in danger because of this. And from what I’ve learned so far, it’s only a matter of time until I either lose control of my mana or get kidnapped by another noble. At least Lord Sylvester seems to actually care about me, and that’s definitely not common among nobles.”

Behind me, Mom nodded, silently supporting my decision.

“As a commoner, Myne, your usual fate would be to join the gray robes, serving as a maid to the nobles. But that would mean hard labor, which, with your fragile health, would be a death sentence in just a few days! The High Priest, however, assured us that you’d be kept safe and healthy. That… That is…”

“Much more generous than we expected,” I finished, remembering Benno’s words at the meeting and frowning.

A deep, collective sigh echoed through the room, reflecting the underlying tension that hung over all of us. Mom clasped her hands on her lap, Dad looked away toward the window, and Tuuli squeezed my hand, trying to give me courage with that simple gesture.

“There’s no use thinking about it now. Lord Sylvester gave me until my baptism to decide about the adoption. In the meantime, I don’t think there’s any harm in accepting the temple’s proposal,” I said, trying to smile and ignore the knot in my stomach that revealed my anxiety about all the uncertainties. The possibility of staying with my family a little longer was comforting, but doubts about the future wouldn’t leave my mind.

In fact, even if my time was running out, we still had a little left.

Chapter Text

The High Priest had determined that we should come to the temple three days after that decisive meeting, meaning the big moment would be the very next day. The urgency threw us into a bit of a rush at home: my parents and I began rummaging through trunks and closets in search of clothes that were at least somewhat presentable, while trying to practice some more formal, polite phrases to avoid slip-ups. Tuuli laughed at our attempts and did funny imitations of the gestures and words Benno and Mark had taught me. Dad—even though he was used to meeting nobles at the gate—and mom were so clumsy, but all that preparation helped lighten the mood for everyone.

The morning that awaited us arrived sunny, giving that bittersweet feeling of knowing it could be a perfect day to harvest parues—if we weren’t, the three of us, on our way to the temple. Tuuli, always worried, said goodbye to us with a tense smile but promised she would do her best with Lutz and the others to gather lots of parues for our family. Her gesture warmed my heart; I couldn’t help but be grateful for having such a kind sister.

Tuuli really is an angel.

As we headed to the temple, I noticed that dad and mom were deep in thought but no longer showed as much sadness as the night before. During breakfast, mom shared with us that the main reason she finally accepted the High Priest’s offer was the promise of medical treatment—something that could truly change my life. Dad, though reluctant, admitted that it was a strong point and hard to ignore. All that remained for them as parents was to trust and hope that the promises would truly be kept.

When we arrived at the temple gate, we were greeted by a young man wearing gray clothes, who very politely guided us inside the building. I remembered what mom had explained to me the night before about gray robes: plebeian orphans or children of the temple itself, who served the priests in blue robes. The behavior of that young man—impeccable posture and submissive voice—confirmed everything I had heard. Along the way, we passed other gray-robed priests and shrine maidens, busy with cleaning tasks, polishing, and carrying items from one place to another. Their meticulous efficiency wasn’t affected by our presence, and my heart tightened as I realized that if I had to live like one of them, I would hardly last long considering my fragile health.

We stopped in front of a door, and the gray-robed priest asked us to wait while he announced our arrival. He gently rang a bell hanging on the door, and dad, mom, and I exchanged curious looks, wondering if that was yet another of those noble etiquette rules we didn’t know about.

A voice came from the other side of the door, authorizing our entry. As soon as we entered, another gray-robed priest greeted us with a respectful nod and then led us to the inner part of the room. There, sitting at a table with a cup of tea in his hands, was a man who must have been in his thirties, with gray hair and brown eyes: the High Priest himself, calmly waiting for us.

Dad, visibly tense, looked at the man, let out a low grunt, and nudged me before signaling that we should kneel and cross our hands over our chests as a sign of respect.

I don’t think dad has gotten over the invasion of our house yet…

“Gunther, Effa, I’m pleased to see you here,” said the High Priest, standing up to greet us. “And this must be little Myne.”

Dad led the official introduction, exchanging polite greetings with the priest. I watched the High Priest’s expression closely—his furrowed brow and hand resting on his chin revealed a genuine, almost analytical interest as he looked at me.

I’m already used to the curious stares from nobles, as if I were some rare animal on display. I just don’t understand what’s so special about me that sparks so much curiosity…

The atmosphere was thick with expectation, and the silence was only broken when the High Priest, after a calm sip of tea, spoke with serenity: “I imagine that by coming here today, you’re willing to accept the proposal that was made to you.” His voice was calm, but carried a certain authority, as if he already knew the answer.

Dad took a deep breath before replying, trying to hide his nervousness. “Yes, sir. We accept that Myne joins the temple as a blue shrine maiden.” He gave me an uncertain look, hesitating before continuing. “As for the other matter…”

I decided to step in, feeling the need to clarify the situation. Keeping my voice steady, I explained: “High Priest, Lord Sylvester was generous enough to give us until my baptism to decide on the possible adoption by Lord Karstedt. So, we don’t have a definitive answer on that matter yet.”

Subtly, the High Priest raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, and gave a slight ironic smile, as if amused by our reaction.

“Really? How interesting,” he commented, assessing us with his gaze.

We felt a chill run down our spines. It was impossible to know for sure who held the higher rank in the noble hierarchy—Lord Sylvester or the High Priest—so we bet everything on uncertainty, hoping it would give us some advantage.

After a moment, however, he shrugged, clearly unimpressed. “If that is what was said, there is nothing I can do. Let us move on.” His indifference was an immediate relief, and I suppressed a victorious smile. “If there is nothing else to discuss, can we start the ceremony?”

My parents and I exchanged surprised looks. “Ceremony?” we asked almost in unison, not understanding what would come next.

“Fealty, of course!” The High Priest stood up and walked to an altar in a corner of the hall.

The altar was richly adorned with golden objects studded with colorful stones, baskets of fresh fruit, and countless candles, giving the place a solemn and luxurious air. We followed him, impressed by the opulence of the place. “Normally, this ritual would take place in the chapel, but since you have not been baptized yet, it is safer to do it here. Also… Nah, never mind. We can deal with that after we finish here.”

The High Priest instructed dad and mom to stay back while I was led to the front of the altar. He told me to kneel on the carpet beside him, cross my hands over my chest, and droop my head, adopting the traditional posture of respect.

“Repeat after me, Myne.”

Thus began the prayer, led by the High Priest, who paused after each phrase so I could follow his words exactly.

At the end of the vows, we stood up together. The High Priest nodded at me, satisfied with my performance. Soon after, a gray-robed priest approached the altar, carefully removed a child-sized blue robe, and handed it to the High Priest, who received it solemnly.

“Blue encourages growth. It is the divine color of the God of Fire, and it is the color of the wide sky, where the King and Queen rule. I give these robes to you, she who worships the King and Queen, she who swears to grow as the years go on.”

I received the blue robes respectfully, helped by mom and a priestess apprentice to put them on. They were light, made of soft fabric, and fit easily over my regular clothes. A simple belt at the waist kept everything in place, and for future rituals, I would just need to add the religious ornaments on top.

“Myne, honorable apostle sent to us by the gods. We welcome you among us.” The High Priest knelt and crossed his arms over his chest. I imitated him and crossed my arms too.

“I am deeply grateful that you would welcome me.”

“Then, let us pray.”

It was so sudden that I didn’t understand what he meant. With my arms still crossed, I tilted my head, confused. A moment passed with us both staring at each other in confusion until he suddenly seemed to remember something important.

“Ah, of course! I forgot you have not been baptized yet, Myne. That is why you do not know the proper prayer posture.”

Proper prayer posture?

“Now, watch closely so you can do as I do… Praise be to the gods!” declared the High Priest, opening and raising his arms to the sky, with his left knee lifted and his gaze upwards.

“Pfff!” I quickly put my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. I would be in BIG trouble if I laughed during a religious ceremony. I knew that. But the more I knew it was wrong, the more I wanted to laugh. I clenched my teeth and my stomach churned as I held back the laughter.

…Come on, that’s the Glico Man pose! He’s doing the Glico Man pose! Why the Glico Man pose?! Why lift the knee?! Isn’t it dangerous to stand on one leg like that? The fact that the High Priest kept perfect balance, with a serious expression, not wobbling at all, just made it all the funnier. Honestly, for me, that was it.

“Myne, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick or something?” Mom asked, alarmed. I looked to where she and dad were, only to instantly regret it.

They were also striking the Glico Man pose as solemnly as anyone else in the room.

“I-I’m fine. I’m still… I’m still okay. I can do this. This is a test the gods gave me.” I covered my mouth and bowed my head as I answered. Of course, I couldn’t tell her that the prayer pose was so funny I couldn’t stop laughing. Only someone who recognized the Glico Man pose right away would find that so hilarious. No doubt about it.

This is religion. This is a real religion. Everyone takes it very seriously, so laughing would be more than rude—it would be my death.

I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and calmed myself down. As soon as I managed to raise my head, I saw the High Priest watching me closely. That alone sent a chill down my spine. He didn’t notice, did he? Gods, protect me as I go through this trial!

“Very well, Myne, now it is your turn. Let us pray together.”

Together?! Please, no, anything but that! My mouth opened, and my ribs hurt. I knew I was about to burst out laughing. I couldn’t let that happen. I can’t laugh, I kept telling myself, which only made me want to laugh even more.

“Praise be to the gods!” said the High Priest, doing the Glico pose again. Alright. It had less of an effect the second time. I managed to contain the waves of laughter and felt my success in my stomach muscles.

“Praise be to the gods!” I repeated, giving it my all to stay balanced in the correct pose and not laugh, but the air tried to escape between my tightly closed lips. “Pfffh! Nnnggh, pfffh!” My stomach hurts…! Someone, help me! Finally, I lost strength and fell to my knees, curling up in a ball. Tears welled up in my eyes and I covered my mouth, swallowing the laughter. “Sorry, ppfffh… I can’t… breathe…”

“Myne!” Dad’s voice rang out loud and worried, echoing through the hall as he rushed over to me and tried to lift me off the floor. I weakly resisted. I had the feeling that the High Priest would immediately know what was happening as soon as he saw me better.

“Ah, well. That was unexpected,” the High Priest said as he watched dad lift me in his arms as if I weighed nothing.

“Sorry, High Priest,” mom quickly interjected, her voice full of worry and nervousness. “Myne tends to faint out of nowhere. She’s weak like that.”

“I see…”

Sorry, mom, but this time it has nothing to do with weakness. Or maybe it does, but not in the way you’re used to…

The High Priest gave us a few moments so I could compose myself. While he returned to his table, I took the opportunity to take deep breaths, trying to focus on random points in the room. A desk, a bed with a luxurious canopy, a strange door…

“Are you feeling better, Myne?” dad, still worried, asked as he watched me closely.

I nodded, trying to convey confidence, and took one last deep breath.

“Sorry for worrying you.”

“It’s okay. Do you think you can make it to the end?”

“I can.”

Dad and mom exchanged uncertain looks, but trusting me, they took me back to where everything had started. The High Priest, meanwhile, was sitting calmly, savoring his tea, as if nothing had happened. As soon as we sat down again, he, however, gave me a penetrating and knowing look. One that clearly said my act hadn’t fooled him at all.

I’m in trouble! Dad, mom, I’m in big trouble! Help!

“I see she is better,” he said, with a wry smile on his lips. “I am glad. But that does bring up a rather pertinent concern.”

Dad and mom exchanged confused looks, trying to figure out what he meant. The High Priest took a final sip of tea and set his cup on the table, elegantly and without making a sound.

“You see, I had said earlier that she could commute to your house daily. I stand by my word on that, fear not. But given the importance of the Dedication Ritual and its approach, I think it might be better for everyone if Myne spends at least half of the winter here at the temple.”

What?! When I heard that, I froze. The idea of spending so much time away from home terrified me and I instinctively grabbed dad’s hand, seeking comfort.

“High Priest, that’s…” Dad stammered, bewildered.

“I know it is sudden, but the Dedication Ritual is the temple’s main ceremony, and it is precisely for that that we need Myne’s mana. If she is as weak as you say—and after today I firmly believe in it—we cannot risk her falling ill right before the ceremony or getting stuck at home because of the snowfall. Of course, you will be allowed to visit her whenever you wish.”

“Well, High Priest, I understand the circumstances, but… Myne doesn’t even have rooms ready, provisions, or clothes that fit her new position in the temple,” mom tried to argue weakly.

The High Priest shook his head and smiled.

“Of course we would not require that of Myne in the middle of winter without prior preparation, Effa,” he said cheerfully. “Lord Karstedt has provided everything Myne will need during those days. Her rooms are already ready, do not worry. In fact, why do not you come with me? I will show you myself so you can be sure she will be well cared for.”

The High Priest then gave a final smile, stood up elegantly, crossed the hall, and left through the door without looking back, absolutely sure he would be followed obediently.

As we walked behind him, heads down, I couldn’t help but compare the cold and meticulous demeanor of the High Priest with the way Lord Sylvester had treated me in our previous interactions. And with the words of warning from Benno and Mark.

So, is this how a noble usually acts?

Chapter Text

After walking all the way back to the temple area where the chapel was located, passing through the entrance hall of the nobles’ lodgings, we arrived at what would be my new quarters.

To be fair, the place was finely furnished. The furniture was carved from fine wood, with an impeccable finish and subtle sheen; thick, luxuriously patterned carpets adorned the floor, cushioning our steps; soft upholstery surrounded a low table containing a tea set, and the bed, positioned in the center of the room, boasted a majestic canopy with velvet curtains, as well as soft, cozy sheets and blankets. Everything was so clean and organized that even the air seemed purer. Even though most of the time I would be wearing the blue robes in the temple, some other very beautiful dresses—and strangely well-fitted to my size—were also provided, along with shoes, socks, underwear, and absolutely everything I could possibly need that winter.

While my family and I watched everything in amazement, the High Priest dismissed most of the gray robes, leaving only the one who had received us—Hans, we discovered at a certain point, after he had been ordered to wrap and carry the golden shield during the journey there—and four others: two children, a young boy, and a very beautiful girl.

“Every detail of these quarters has been carefully planned to reflect Lord Karstedt’s status, Myne. It’s important that you begin to adapt to the new pace and standards required by this position,” the High Priest said, not disguising his amusement at our astonishment. “And, as agreed with your parents, your education and medical care will follow this same standard of excellence. Nothing has been overlooked.”

The first to recover from the shock was Dad, who cleared his throat before addressing the High Priest with a discreet grimace: “I… Um, I understand. Regarding her duties, what will that be like?” His voice was cautious, a mixture of apprehension and antipathy.

“Ah, yes! Good point, Gunther!” exclaimed the High Priest, turning to the group of remaining servants. “Hans, if you may.”

Hans quickly approached us with the unwrapped shield in his hands.

“Myne, please touch the stone in the center and channel your mana into it,” said the High Priest, pointing to where a large, imposing yellow stone gleamed.

I obeyed, releasing my mana from the metaphorical box where it was always kept and effortlessly transferring it to the shield. Immediately, the central stone glowed intensely, followed by the smaller ones on the edges, which lit up in sequence. Furthermore, the text carved into the shield began to float about a pulse away, emitting a yellowish-green light. I had never seen those letter-like symbols before and definitely couldn’t read them. Wow, it’s like a magic circle! Very cool, very cool!

“Hmm… Very interesting,” commented the High Priest, observing the seventh sidestone glowing. “That’s enough for today, Myne. How are you feeling?”

I took a step back, taking a deep breath. My body felt lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted from me, bringing relief and well-being that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Hmm, a little relieved? Like a heavy weight has been lifted off my back.”

The High Priest nodded, satisfied with the result.

“Be overjoyed, Myne. If you continue donating mana like this, you can develop as much as any other child your age!”

Seriously?!

“Regarding your other responsibilities: starting tomorrow you will begin assisting with temple paperwork during a morning bell ringing and will have classes in etiquette, history, and religion. You will also practice music and physical exercises to keep your body and mind healthy.”

All of that?!

“Oh, and of course, how could I forget!”

Is there more?!?

“You may also get involved with the affairs of the temple book room if you wish, although this is not a formal obligation.”

WHAT?! A BOOK ROOM??? THERE’S A BOOK ROOM IN THE TEMPLE?!

“I want it!” I exclaimed with all my might, raising my arm excitedly. “I want it, High Priest, sir! I want the book room! Don’t worry, taking care of it will be my greatest mission!”

“Well, well.”

“I can even start the work right now if you want!” I said, very eagerly, and practically floated towards the door, but I was intercepted before I could take three steps.

“Hold on, miss!” Dad lifted me back into his arms as I struggled, desperately, for a chance to access that treasure.

“Dad, didn’t you hear?! There’s a book room here! With books inside! Real books!”

A choked laugh caught our attention, and we turned to see the High Priest smiling ironically while Mom held her forehead with a defeated look.

“You are quite an interesting little thing, are you not?” he said, his smile widening.

Dad put me down, and when I realized where I was and the seriousness of the moment, I felt my face flush intensely. But what did they expect to happen after saying there was a book room in this place and that I could be in charge of it?!

“I am sorry to ruin your excitement, Myne,” the High Priest said next, though he didn’t seem to feel bad at all. “The book room is in the noble quarters, so your access to it will be restricted to very specific times. You may ask your attendants to fetch books for you whenever you wish, however.”

Okay, security… Security is important… BUT!

“And, obviously, you can only read them in your free time and if you manage to maintain satisfactory results in your lessons.”

NOOOOOOO!!! MY PRECIOUS BOOKS!!!

I was ready to kneel and beg for mercy when he continued, relentlessly: “Speaking of which, these are the gray priest and the apprentices who will be his attendants.”

The High Priest then pointed to the remaining clump of ashes, and the boy among them stepped forward:

“My name is Fran, I’m sixteen years old. I will be under your care,” he said in a solemn and obedient tone. He had light lilac hair and dark brown eyes that gave the impression of a rather serious, usually quiet person.

Next, the girl with beautiful brown hair and blue eyes stepped forward delicately, wearing an angelic smile. “My name is Rosina. I am thirteen years old, and I am proficient in harspiel. I am glad to serve you.”

The High Priest added, “Myne, Rosina will be responsible for your music lessons and will assist you with etiquette lessons, in addition to any other tasks you may desire.” I looked between them, incredulous. How could I possibly get used to someone so elegant serving me?!

As I internally clutched my head in my hands, the two children, who looked to be about my age, also stepped forward:

“I’m Delia, seven years old. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sister Myne,” said the girl. She was a redhead with beautiful light blue eyes.

“I’m Gil, nine years old,” grumbled the boy, blond with purple eyes, his expression defiant. I observed the group, noticing that some looked away, and Fran sighed as if she wanted to reprimand the boy. The High Priest merely shrugged and smiled mockingly.

A troubled kid, then? Got it.

“Finally, Myne, there is something you and your parents need to know: for your safety, we have decided to keep you separate from the other blue robes,” the High Priest said, his voice taking on a serious tone. “These quarters belonged to the former director of the orphanage. The location is isolated and ensures greater privacy for you. For your own good, Gunther and Effa, I ask that any visits coming from the lower city be done with utmost discretion. This will protect Myne and prevent future problems.”

Mom and Dad agreed, understanding the seriousness of the situation.

Okay. The less the blue ones know about me, the better.

“So, I believe we have covered all the points. Any questions before the farewells?”

With no other option, I accompanied my parents to the entrance of my chambers. I very much wanted to go with them to the temple gate, but the High Priest reminded us to be discreet. Mom and Dad gave me a tight hug and promised to come see me whenever possible. With a heavy heart, I said goodbye and smiled to disguise my growing sadness.

Now, left only with my attendants and the High Priest, I felt extremely lonely.

“Well, Myne,” the High Priest said, clapping his hands to get my attention. “I will leave you to familiarize yourself with your attendants. Take today to acclimate to your new quarters. Fran, she is exceptionally allowed to borrow a book even though she did not have classes today, understand?”

“Yes, High Priest.”

I once heard that the most effective way to ward off loneliness and the weight of sad thoughts is to keep constantly busy. If there was anyone who took this to the extreme, it was the High Priest. As soon as I began residing in the temple, I discovered that every minute of my day had been carefully planned by him. Rosina and Delia, always punctual, would wake me as soon as second bell rang. Then came the morning ritual: bath, breakfast, and then I would head to the first lesson of the day, dedicated to the harspiel, an elegant instrument that vaguely reminded me of a harp.

Rosina, my music tutor, was truly passionate about the harspiel, and her skill shone through in every note she played. However, her dedication bordered on obsession, as she often wanted to play at any moment—even in the middle of the night. This caused some conflicts early on: Rosina ended up neglecting household chores, and Delia and Gil, annoyed, refused to do their own duties until she cooperated. Fran, always observant, explained to me that Rosina had been like this even when she served her former teacher. Fortunately, after a frank conversation and an ultimatum, Rosina seemed to fit better into the group.

As third bell tolled, I would make my way to the High Priest’s chambers to attend to administrative tasks for the temple, accompanied by Fran and Gil. The preparation and the entire journey there was a bureaucratic process in itself: I would wear a veil to conceal my face, Gil would go ahead to ensure the corridors were clear, and, if all was safe, Fran would carry me quickly to our destination. This same ritual was repeated on the way back, always in silence and discretion.

At first, my relationships with Fran and Gil were a real test of patience. Fran, always serious and meticulous, seemed not to trust me, treating me in a distant manner. Gil, on the other hand, was openly hostile, always ready to challenge me, except when some nobleman was around—then his attitude would quickly change.

It was during a much-needed bath after a very busy day that Delia confided in me that they had both served another master just before me. The transition of command, especially for Fran, had not been well received. Gil, on the other hand, had always been rebellious, disciplined only out of fear of losing some of his food under the former master. Now, feeling free, he was once again defying the rules and testing my limits at every turn.

The issues with Gil were resolved quickly, though. I implemented a reward system for attendants who performed their tasks well, praising and acknowledging their efforts whenever possible. Gil, in particular, seemed to love the new method: within a few days, he was already much more cooperative and less standoffish. Fran, on the other hand, needed my new etiquette and history teacher—Lady Heidemarie—to arrive after lunch and call him aside for a private conversation after noticing his distance from me. I don’t know exactly what they discussed, but after that and some lessons on what tone I should adopt with servants, Fran finally began to tend to me with confidence.

Delia, on the other hand, always seemed overly willing and grateful to be serving me, which I didn’t quite understand, but I gladly accepted it.

After the theoretical lessons, it was time for physical exercise. Lord Eckhart, Lady Heidemarie’s husband, was responsible for getting me to move a bit. And that also brought its own problems. Lord Eckhart knew from our very first lesson that this would be a long and arduous journey. Luckily for me, he seemed to be a very patient man.

After finishing ‘physical education’—which, in reality, consisted of nothing more than some light gymnastics and a painfully slow walk—I would take a bath, donate mana to some divine instrument, have dinner, drink some foul-tasting medicine if I wasn’t feeling well, and finally go to bed.

My reading time was supposed to be somewhere between dinner and bedtime, but to my dismay, I rarely found myself with a book in my hand before falling asleep.

Before I knew it, a whole week had passed. I missed my family constantly—especially during the cold nights—but I persevered: I was able to have lunch with Dad when he had a day off, and twice Mom and Tuuli had the chance to have some fun watching me grumble about being tired to Lord Eckhart after lifting a silver piece the size of a tiny paperweight three times. Benno also came to visit one afternoon, taking advantage of my break between history and religion classes and bringing some sales reports.

“Benno, how can I get in touch with a carpenter and a blacksmith? Oh! And someone who works with wax too!” I asked after going over all the accounting with him. Metal plates were touched and now I had a few more coins.

Benno’s eyes lit up as they always did when he detected the scent of new business nearby.

“I know some very competent workshops in those areas, Lady Myne. If you prefer, I can contact them directly for you,” he replied, emphasizing both the fact that he would take care of everything and the ‘Lady’ that now inevitably accompanied my name in a respectful tone.

I sighed inwardly. Of course, I couldn’t go on my own. At least, not before my stay at the temple was over.

“And what exactly would those contacts be for, if I may ask?”

“I want diptychs.”

For days I had been reflecting on how I could express my gratitude to Fran and Rosina for all the effort and dedication they demonstrated in their roles. I thought about giving them something that could really make their daily work easier, and I immediately imagined a notepad, which would be extremely useful for them to record reminders, messages, and to-do lists, but, lacking good paper, a diptych was the next best thing I could think of.

To Benno’s credit, he blinked only once before returning to the performance. His eyes, however, were glaring at me. Discreetly, of course.

“I am afraid I do not know what that is, Lady Myne.”

Ah, well. I figured. Here we go again, then.

With a gesture, I asked Fran to bring a board and ink. He promptly complied, and I began to draw: first, the diptych model, then a special stylus for marking the wax.

“Myne,” a voice cut through the room, making my body freeze. Lady Heidemarie, seated in a corner, observed every movement with a neutral expression, but with attentive and curious eyes. I had completely forgotten her presence.

“Yes, Lady Heidemarie?”

“If I may ask, why don’t you delegate these matters to your staff? Your break is over.” There was a sharp precision in her words: she was clearly testing me.

I tried to reply calmly: “Yes, I could, Lady Heidemarie, but that would create a problem.”

“Oh?”

I looked at Fran and asked, “Do you know what a diptych is?”

Fran paled, admitting, “I’m sorry, Sister Myne.”

“And you, Rosina?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of this, Sister Myne.”

I turned to Lady Heidemarie again, indicating my attendants: “See?”

She insisted, “So what? It is their incompetence not to know what it is about. Would not it be right to reprehend them and make them figure it out on their own?”

I swallowed hard, watching my employees kneel, embarrassed by the situation.

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage, and faced my teacher firmly.

“I will do that, Lady Heidemarie,” I announced calmly, displaying a neutral smile with a hint of irony—deliberately imitating the High Priest in similar situations. “But only if you can tell me what a diptych is.”

Lady Heidemarie’s eyes widened, completely taken aback by my audacity. I felt Benno stiffen on the other side of the table, while Fran and Rosina nearly turned pale at my response. It was reckless to challenge a noblewoman of higher status in this way, I knew, but I wouldn’t accept my attendants being punished for their ignorance of something that doesn’t even exist in this world.

“So cheeky…” she said, amused nonetheless. “I must admit I do not know what it is either. But you already knew, did you not? I can only ask: how?” There was an air of research, almost fascination, in her attentive gaze.

“Simple: how would anyone know what does not yet exist? I am developing it right now.” I shrugged and pointed to the plaque I had been drawing earlier. “Which brings us back to your question: there is no one but me capable of passing on the precise information for making a diptych. Therefore, delegating this work would be impossible.”

“I understand. That makes sense.”

I sighed, relieved, but Lady Heidemarie quickly regained her ironic smile.

“But do not think your little rebellion will go unanswered, young lady.”

What?!

“Another half bell of extra lessons today,” she decreed mercilessly.

NOOOOO! MY READING TIME!

With tears in my eyes, I finished the blueprints for my new projects and began a detailed explanation to Benno, who looked at me with a mixture of disbelief and exasperation, of how the pieces should be made by the artisans. Lady Heidemarie approached us and also listened to every detail with an eager expression, clearly interested in getting one as well.

In the end, I opted to order four diptychs: one for myself, one for Fran, one for Rosina, and, of course, one for Lady Heidemarie.

“Oh?” she reacted in surprise upon learning that she was on the gift list.

“Consider it a gift,” I explained, doing my best to evoke the image of a cute and innocent child. “It is a way of thanking you for your kindness in teaching me and for your patience with me.”

“I graciously accept your gift, Myne.” She seemed genuinely touched—but only for two seconds. Soon, the ironic smile returned to her face in full force. “But do not think this will buy you back your reading time.”

Nooo…

“Although, I confess, it was a great try,” she said, laughing. “Very good, Myne. Very good.”

Benno’s visit, although it momentarily lifted my spirits, ended up bringing back memories of Lutz, whom I hadn’t seen since the meeting with Lord Sylvester and Lord Karstedt. As soon as Benno said goodbye, a bitter feeling overcame me, and I felt my mana stir within me as it hadn’t in a long time. For the rest of the day, I managed to keep it under control within my metaphorical box, but as soon as I was alone at the table during dinner, the loneliness that had been masked by my busy schedule took hold of me.

I desperately needed a hug.

Despite everything, I managed to hold back the tears. Lady Heidemarie’s lessons were fundamental in keeping my emotions hidden from my attendants.

The internal pressure was so intense that when Fran appeared, bringing the divine instrument for the daily donation of mana, I felt as if I were being rescued from a boiling pot. Perhaps because I was so exhausted, I chose to donate more mana than usual—a decision made on impulse, but one that turned out to be the right one. As the instrument sucked away the excess mana from me, the intense heat seemed to burn not only my body but also dissipate the fog in my mind. Gradually, a refreshing clarity took over my thoughts.

Who knows, maybe a little more? It’s a divine instrument! Surely it won’t break with the mana of a little girl, will it? Gods wouldn’t be that weak.

“Hmm… Sister Myne, is not that enough already?” Fran’s voice sounded strangely worried, but I shrugged.

“Just a little more, Fran. I am almost done,” I said, pushing a little further. If the excess was problematic, wouldn’t it be better to empty almost all of it?

I continued until I felt that only a small fraction, about one-tenth of my mana, remained in me. Only then did I release the instrument, feeling immediate relief.

“Okay, Fran. You can take it back now,” I said, trying to reassure him with a smile, but my head attendant just looked at me, distressed. “What is wrong, Fran?” I asked, taking a step forward.

The next instant, I felt my strength leave me. The ground seemed to disappear beneath my feet, and suddenly, everything around me plunged into darkness.

Chapter Text

My consciousness seemed to float in a vast ocean of darkness, where there was neither beginning nor end, only emptiness. No matter how much I tried to move, I felt trapped in that nebulous state—unable to open my eyes or control my own body. Still, the sounds around me pierced this barrier: indistinct murmurs, hurried footsteps, anxious voices echoing as if from far away. I felt strong arms lift me up, holding me firmly, and then I was carried off in haste. There were muffled shouts, urgency pulsed in the air, but it was impossible to understand any words in that sonic whirlwind.

An indefinite time passed. Suddenly, other arms embraced me, this time with gentleness, as if they were trying to protect something fragile. The warmth that radiated from that embrace was so comforting—a feeling so deep it made my heart sigh with relief. I instinctively tried to reach out for that source of comfort, but my arm remained immobile, heavy as lead, ignoring my will.

Without warning, a bitter taste slid down my throat, snapping me from the stillness. I moaned anxiously and my body, still numb, tried to resist that strange stimulus, but my weakness was absolute, apparently.

Then, a deep, melodious voice, surprisingly close, whispered in my ear, in such a tender tone that it nearly brought tears to my closed eyes. “Shhhhh. It is alright now, Myne. You are safe, I promise. No harm will come to you under my watch.” The words penetrated my mind like a balm, bringing unexpected comfort. At last, I felt a gentle sweetness invading my mouth, contrasting with the previous bitter taste. Too weak to resist, I let the liquid flow through my body, gently leading me back into unconsciousness.

I didn’t know how much time passed after that. When I finally regained consciousness, I realized my body was soaked with sweat, the sheets sticking to my skin. Fran, always attentive, noticed my movements and quickly approached to help me drink some fresh water. The gesture brought immediate relief to my dry throat. I wanted to thank him, but before I could utter a word, exhaustion overcame me and I was pulled back into a deep sleep.

The third time I became conscious, I was finally able to move and speak. My body was no longer sticky, and my mind, once shrouded in fog, was now surprisingly clear and steady. I even managed to stretch my arm toward the bell by myself! However, before I could touch it, Rosina, ever vigilant, opened the curtains around my bed, letting the soft daylight flood the room and, for a brief moment, left me dazzled.

“Sister Myne, please, do not try to get up now! You have been ordered to rest completely today,” said Rosina, her voice loaded with concern as she hurried to stop me from making any sudden movements.

Another glass of water was handed to me and while quenching my thirst, I took the opportunity to try to better observe the room, stretching my neck discreetly. Strangely, it felt empty—no one else was there. For a moment, I doubted my own memory: had I dreamed of the hurried voices, the caring arms, and all that commotion?

Noticing my curiosity, Rosina gave a slight smile. “Fran went to get your medication, Delia is preparing your meal, and Gil went to the book room to fetch something for you to entertain yourself during your rest.” Her tone carried a hint of amusement, and as soon as she mentioned the word ‘books,’ everything else lost importance to me. A spark of joy shone in my chest at the prospect of extra time dedicated to reading.

Yay! Reading time! Maybe resting all day isn’t so bad after all!

As if she had heard her name, Delia entered right after, skillfully balancing a tray with thin soup, a few pieces of steaming meat, and slices of hard bread. I couldn’t hide my displeasure at the meal; it was practically impossible to conceal my frustration with the bland food from the temple. Delia, already used to my reaction, snorted, impatient.

“Sister Myne, if you do not eat everything, you will not get better! Stop being picky,” she scolded, crossing her arms and throwing me a severe look.

I wanted to justify my expression, to explain that it wasn’t fussiness, but simply the realization that the temple’s meals were always dispiriting. Since my first meal there, I was told my food wouldn’t be made in my own quarters’ kitchen, as I didn’t have my own cooks. So, my meals were always delivered by my attendants, prepared who-knows-where. As I didn’t pay directly for my food, nor was I charged for it, I thought it best not to complain so as not to seem ungrateful.

At the time, Delia warned me in serious whispers: “If I were you, I would not complain about the food.” Since then, I kept silent at all meals, enduring the gastronomic ordeal in resignation.

However…

How the heck do these people expect my health to improve eating so poorly?!

Despite the involuntary grimace, I forced the food down and threw a pleading look at Rosina, who only smiled, finding the whole situation amusing.

“If I may, Sister Myne, maybe it is time to hire your own cooks,” Rosina suggested gently, but the idea was so unexpected I nearly choked on the soup.

“I really can?! Why did no one ever tell me that?” I exclaimed, surprised and even a bit indignant.

Rosina gave a sly smile, but Delia sighed, looking at me as if I were especially naïve. “You really have no idea where your food comes from, do you?”

I just shook my head, confused, and Delia left, leaving me intrigued by that seemingly trivial mystery.

Rosina chuckled softly, explaining, “At first, your safety was the priority. Your meals came from the safest kitchen in the temple.”

“And what’s changed now?”

“Well, now we were ordered to keep you comfortable while you recover and fully adjust to the temple routine. Since the menu brought to you clearly does not suit your tastes, we thought it reasonable to change it. Especially if it makes you eat better.”

Fair enough.

I grew thoughtful, considering how I could hire cooks. In the end, I could only think of Benno to solve this issue, even though I already anticipated the scolding he would give me. Even so, I asked Rosina to send him an invitation.

Unexpectedly, the prospect of me hiring new cooks must have excited Benno greatly, because he replied to my invitation immediately, saying he would have some candidates ready for our meeting.

In the afternoon, I received a visit from all the nobles of my daily circle and got the biggest lecture of my life, maybe of the whole world’s history! Everyone made sure to emphasize, in frightening detail, that I, in my recklessness, had almost killed myself. At night, it was my parents’ and Tuuli’s turn.

Never, even in my wildest dreams, did I think that one day I could be the cause of a strange union between social strata of Ehrenfest.

Five days later, at fourth bell, I found myself seated, motionless as a precious doll, between Benno and the High Priest. Meanwhile, Hugo and Ella—the cooks brought by Benno—worked hard to follow the steps of the recipes I had indirectly passed on to them through Fran. Benno and the cooks were clearly nervous with another noble present, but the High Priest seemed totally oblivious to their discomfort. In fact, he seemed restless, now and then craning his neck to try to peek at what the two poor workers were doing in the kitchen.

After a long, tense silence broken only by the noise of kitchen utensils and boiling ingredients, Benno seemed to give up waiting for the High Priest to speak and cleared his throat.

“High Priest, it’s an honor to be in your presence, but I don’t think a cooking test is something worthy of your attention,” he declared, possibly curious about why that eccentric man was there. For my part, I chose not to mention that the High Priest had invited himself as soon as he heard new recipes would be tested, acting so abruptly that it surely would have enraged Lady Heidemarie.

The High Priest flashed one of his characteristic ironic smiles, sat elegantly in his chair, and answered Benno in a tone even more formal and solemn than usual, displaying all his authority and, perhaps, a bit of theatricality: “Indeed, at first glance, this kind of task may seem unworthy of my time. However, Benno, allow me to explain: Myne’s meals are a crucial aspect to consider when we talk about her safety and well-being. I make it my business to personally ensure that no potentially dangerous ingredient is deliberately added to her food. I am sure you understand my caution.”

At that very moment, the unexpected metallic sound of pans clashing echoed from the kitchen, making everyone in the room jump, their eyes immediately turning toward the source of the noise. The atmosphere, already tense, became even heavier.

I let out a sigh of pure weariness and, trying to contain the tension, turned to the High Priest: “High Priest, please, do not scare my cooks like that.”

He, however, just shrugged, clearly without a trace of regret, as if the situation was just another joke to him.

Of all the dangers and formalities I learned in Lady Heidemarie’s etiquette lessons, the possibility of poisoned food always chilled me inside. I discovered, to my astonishment, that the habit of tasting food at tea parties arose as a protective measure against such threats. The fact that this custom had become so entrenched that it turned into a tradition among nobles made me imagine how constant the fear of poisoning must be in their daily lives. It was difficult for me, who came from another reality, to fully understand the silent paranoia surrounding each meal in those high circles.

Faced with the High Priest’s words, Benno was visibly shaken; his skin lost color and it took him a while to answer, his voice trembling slightly: “High Priest, I can assure you that we conducted a thorough background check and vetted every relationship of the cooks I brought. I made sure, more than once, that they posed no risk to Lady Myne.”

“I trust your competence, Benno. However, you cannot blame me for being a little cautious, can you?”

“Not at all,” Benno replied succinctly, visibly resigned.

The room was once again filled with a heavy, almost palpable silence, interrupted only by the noise of utensils and ingredients in the kitchen. This atmosphere was only broken when, finally, the soup was ready. Hugo, still a bit hesitant, was the first to taste the new recipe, which didn’t waste the vegetable broth. But as soon as he tasted it, he made a very surprised sound. Ella tasted it next and freely exclaimed her approval until Hugo reminded her that they were in the presence of nobles.

By my side, the High Priest’s eyes shone with so much curiosity and excitement that he was clearly struggling not to get up from his chair to snoop around the kitchen. I was actually relieved he didn’t give in to the urge. I could only imagine the chaos that would ensue. Fran, who was in charge of relaying the recipe instructions to the cooks, returned to ask us to move to the main room’s table, and I almost had to drag the High Priest there.

The table in my room was elegantly set. Arrangements of fresh flowers adorned delicate vases, as I had requested earlier, giving the environment a welcoming and refined atmosphere. On the table lay well-aligned fabric mats, gleaming cutlery, and glasses filled with fresh juice. All this setup was Gil’s work, who, while we were with the cooks in the kitchen, arranged every detail with impressive dedication and efficiency.

“Thank you, Gil,” I said. Gil, filled with pride at the recognition, knelt before me in a silent reverence that had become familiar in recent days. Over time, I learned that this gesture was his way of asking for praise, a mutual and nonverbal understanding we developed.

Smiling, I ruffled Gil’s hair, expressing my appreciation for his effort. The simple but meaningful gesture lit up Gil’s face with a look of genuine happiness.

“Well, who would have thought you could tame the little troublemaker?” teased the High Priest as he settled into his seat, flashing a mischievous smile at Gil.

Though the he tried to hide it, he shrank a bit, showing respect for the priest but also a touch of nervousness.

Could Gil and Fran’s former master have been the High Priest?

“Gil is a good servant,” I replied, because I could not just call him a “good boy” in front of the High Priest. That would not befit my new status, something I was reminded of nine out of ten times I spoke daily. “He just needed the right encouragement to develop better.”

“I see,” replied the High Priest, with a brief nod, his gaze evaluative.

When the dishes finally arrived at the table, the intoxicating aroma of freshly prepared food quickly filled the room, making the atmosphere even more inviting. Fran brought two steaming pizzas, each with different toppings, along with the soup that accompanied the main course. The pizzas, with their appetizing appearance, had a golden crust, slightly marked by the fire, topped with melted cheese releasing tempting steam. The bacon sizzled, still releasing fresh grease, while the chicken was juicy and flavorful. The anticipation was so great that even Benno couldn’t hide his sparkling gaze, eager to taste the new dishes.

As the highest-ranked person at the table, the High Priest recited the pre-meal prayer. For a moment, I thought he would rush through it just to start eating faster, but, to my surprise, he remained completely focused and faithful to the usual prayer pace.

As expected from the esteemed High Priest!

When we started to eat, however, I could clearly see the cracks in the man’s composure as he greedily devoured every slice of pizza served. I wondered if the priest’s excitement was making him forget social protocols, or if, in fact, I was getting more skilled at noble etiquette.

The soup was also received with great enthusiasm by my guests. The idea of using the vegetable cooking broth piqued curiosity and, after the first spoonful, everyone agreed that this method was, without a doubt, superior.

Completely satisfied with the overall result, I called Fran and asked him discreetly to pass on my compliments to the cooks. It was finally time to revolutionize the temple’s mediocre cuisine and start a new era full of possibilities and flavors!

Finally, tea was brought, and Fran was able to take the rest as a divine gift.

While I talked with Benno about business prospects for the new recipes, the High Priest cleared his throat, catching my attention:

“Myne, I understand that the secret behind the flavor of these dishes is in the method of preparation, not necessarily the cooks, correct?” I nodded. “Would you be willing to sell me the recipes?”

Now, that was a unique opportunity. Benno’s eyes practically sparkled at the realization that my recipes had the potential to attract noble clients.

“I do not see why not, High Priest,” I replied, receiving a nod of approval from Benno. “However, I must warn you: even if your cooks follow the recipe exactly, the dish will hardly be identical to what we tasted today.”

“And why is that?” he asked, curious.

“Because the secret is in the yeast, a special ingredient I made myself. That is what makes the dough so soft and tasty.”

As soon as the meeting was set, Fran and I, even against the wishes of all my attendants, ventured into the new kitchen to try to figure out what we could serve for lunch. While checking how well-equipped the kitchen was—which was very—I was lucky enough to find some glass jars with lids.

The idea of making homemade yeast came to me immediately.

With the excuse that I needed more fruit to help with my recovery, I had Fran get some rutrebs from the cold chamber and together we followed all the steps to have yeast ready for today.

Obviously, I made Fran swear by the gods that he wouldn’t tell anyone the recipe.

“Well, then sell me the recipe for this ‘yeast’ too!”

I gave the High Priest an ironic smile before shaking my head.

“Sorry, but that I cannot do,” I said in a tone of regret. The High Priest raised an eyebrow, but I wasn’t intimidated. Lady Heidemarie, see how much I’ve grown! “Look, if Benno and I decide to actively sell the dishes, like in a restaurant or something like that, the yeast will be our differentiator. The High Priest well understands the value of keeping profitable secrets, right?”

The priest reacted with a grimace and a displeased sigh, showing he was not entirely satisfied with the answer.

“Heidemarie is getting better results than I expected…” he commented, somewhat annoyed.

Hehehehehehe…

“However,” I continued, savoring the victory and drawing his attention back to me. It was time to end in style. “If the High Priest is that interested, it would be very rude of me to simply ignore him, do you think not?” He nodded, taking the bait. At my side, Benno watched everything with a smile, fully aware of the game I was playing. “I propose the following: the High Priest can buy ready-made yeast from my stocks, as long as he helps provide some of the necessary ingredients for production.”

He gave me a suspicious look, pondering the proposal.

“Would I not be paying twice? And by knowing some of the ingredients, would I not be closer to unraveling the secret?”

I shrugged, showing no concern. “Feel free to try to figure it out. Knowing a few ingredients hardly reveals the whole recipe. As for payment, I prefer to see it as a fruitful collaboration to improve your daily meals. Surely, that is worth it, is that not? Besides, my reserves are not infinite; without support, we will soon be out of yeast. Consider it an investment, not an expense.”

The High Priest pondered for a while, stroking his chin again and again before finally nodding. From there, Benno took over the price negotiations.

I could practically feel his joy when, at the end of our lunch, the High Priest left my quarters carrying a jar of yeast and two recipe tablets in his hands, slightly poorer than when he arrived.

Chapter Text

The arrival of delicious food certainly lifted the spirits of everyone in my entourage. However, the light and pleasant atmosphere couldn’t keep away for long the melancholy that was settling within me. Outside, the snow fell ever heavier and more relentlessly, making the streets impassable. As a result, drastically reducing my family’s visits. I missed their warmth and company, and the longing began to weigh on my chest.

Knowing this, Rosina and Delia, always attentive to my mood, decided to arrange a distraction for me: a fitting session for my ceremonial outfits, since the date of the Dedication Ritual was quickly approaching. At first, it would be just two ensembles, but, as with everything that starts small, soon we were immersed in a true marathon of changing clothes, trying on all the dresses and outfits that had been carefully selected for me at the start of the cold season. To our surprise—and a bit of apprehension—Lady Heidemarie expressed interest in joining in the activity, which we thought best not to refuse. Especially after we had been forced to listen to her sharp and resentful comments for an entire afternoon for not having been invited to the food tasting the other day.

It was between one cute dress change and another that I discovered the person responsible for assembling my wardrobe was none other than Lady Elvira, Lord Karstedt’s first wife. The shock was even greater when I remembered that she had also been suggested by Lord Sylvester to take on the role of my mother.

And as if that weren’t enough, Lady Elvira was Lady Heidemarie’s mother-in-law.

Noticing my surprised expression, Lady Heidemarie couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I have never told you that?” she asked, amused. I shook my head vigorously, still trying to process the information. She then shrugged: “Oh well. I guess I ended up forgetting amidst our busy routine. Just do not let her hear me say that.”

“You seem to get along well.”

Heidemarie smiled with a touch of nostalgia and a certain tenderness in her gaze. “Yes, without a doubt. Lady Elvira has truly been the one to care for me ever since my mother died.” She chuckled softly and added, “Come to think of it, my marriage to Eckhart must have seemed obvious to her, like a natural unfolding of things.”

“And what is she like, after all?” I asked, even more fascinated by Lady Elvira.

“She is a woman of unmatched elegance but also possesses admirable strictness when it comes to lessons and discipline. Living almost exclusively surrounded by knights probably required strength and firmness on her part. Even so, she never stopped being an inspiration to everyone around her.”

“I imagine it must have been a delicate situation when Lord Karstedt told her about me,” I remarked, still a bit insecure about my situation.

Lady Heidemarie’s smile then softened, conveying understanding.

“Worry not, Myne. Lady Elvira, above all, is one of the kindest people I know. She has a welcoming heart, despite her serious demeanor.”

I nodded, feeling a bit more relieved.

“Moreover, Lady Elvira had always harbored the wish to have a daughter, though the gods, for their own reasons, blessed her home only with sons.” Lady Heidemarie picked up one of the dresses, allowing herself a smile tinged with nostalgia. “Naturally, when Lord Karstedt told her about your whole situation, her reaction was one of great surprise and deep curiosity. After all, what kind of peasant girl could so easily fascinate some of the most aloof nobles of Ehrenfest? Because of that, Lady Elvira sought counsel from the High Bishop and, after receiving his encouragement, promptly mobilized everyone in the house to ensure your stay here at the temple was properly arranged.”

High Bishop? Not the High Priest?

From what I’d learned so far, the High Bishop was the highest authority in the temple. I myself had never had the chance to see him in person, but the stories I’d heard—mainly from Delia, who always seemed to look over her shoulder when talking about him, as if afraid of being reprimanded by the walls themselves—painted an intriguing picture. According to her, the High Bishop was a man of irreproachable integrity, with a rigid and imposing posture that reminded one of solid rock and a gaze capable of intimidating even the bravest.

Rosina, in turn, added with shining eyes that, beyond all, the High Bishop was extremely handsome, endowed with such striking features that it was impossible to ignore his presence. Delia, though reluctant, couldn’t disagree, confirming the comment with a timid nod.

All I knew beyond that was that the High Bishop was someone very, very busy.

“Due to time constraints, unfortunately it was not possible to order new dresses for you. These here were mine, can you believe it? They were kept at the house where I was born, but Lady Elvira spared no effort to get them all.” She allowed herself a slight smile, not noticing that my thoughts had already wandered from the conversation. “Let me make this clear, Myne: it is impossible to stop Lady Elvira when she is motivated and dedicated to a plan. Truly impossible.”

My curiosity about the High Bishop grew, but I thought it best to save my questions for another time. Instead, I commented, somewhat surprised, “I thought Lord Karstedt was the one who arranged everything, but I guess I should not be surprised to learn it was his wife instead.”

Lady Heidemarie then gave a mocking smile.

“Ah, well. She definitely made full use of his resources for that. It is undeniable,” she confided in a playful tone, making us burst into laughter.

After two more dresses, we agreed it was a good idea to take a break for tea with fresh cookies. Lady Heidemarie was visibly enthusiastic to try the new recipe, especially after I mentioned that even the High Priest hadn’t yet had the chance to taste those treats. However, all that enthusiasm was abruptly halted. As soon as she took the first sip of tea, her face turned pale and an expression of discomfort took over. She didn’t even try the cookies, as our lively fashion session had to be interrupted immediately due to her sudden malaise.

The previously relaxed atmosphere quickly turned into a scene of worry and commotion. Although Lady Heidemarie insisted that the cause was unrelated to the food or tea, I couldn’t help but feel a chill down my spine as I recalled the endless lessons about poisons.

“It is alright, Myne,” she assured me, even as I watched her skin take on an increasingly sickly hue. “To be honest, I was not feeling well before coming. I only came out of stubbornness.”

“Are you sure?” I insisted, unable to contain my concern. It was already the tenth time I’d asked.

Lady Heidemarie let out a soft laugh, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere.

“Absolutely,” she stated with conviction. Then she sighed deeply, showing her fatigue. “But… Lady Elvira will not let me hear the end of this, I suppose.”

Lady Heidemarie soon returned home, leaving behind a feeling of dread that only eased when Lord Eckhart suddenly appeared to reassure me.

“She sent me here just to assure you once again that everything is fine, Myne,” he said, with a silly smile that completely contrasted with the situation. “It was not the food. It was… something else. Mother has already locked her up at home so she can recover, anyway. But unfortunately, that means, at least for now, you will be without a teacher.”

Honestly, I didn’t care at all about missing classes. All I could think about was Lady Heidemarie’s pale face as she struggled to remain steady and not throw up.

Restless, I started thinking of ways to help her. However, before I could take any action, a large, gentle hand landed on my head, snapping me out of my daydreams.

“I really appreciate your concern, Myne,” said Lord Eckhart with a gentle smile, ruffling my hair softly. I realized then that I had probably voiced my feelings aloud. “If you really want to help, why not give me some of the cookies she was so eager to eat? That is all she thought about when she got home. Apparently, she was very excited to try them.”

I nodded vigorously before calling Fran to ask him to wrap up some cookies so Lady Heidemarie could enjoy them later and share them with Lord Eckhart.

While at it, I also asked for some for Lady Elvira, thinking she’d appreciate the gesture.

And so as not to leave anyone out, I asked for another package for Lord Karstedt.

Lord Eckhart couldn’t hold back a spontaneous laugh upon receiving from Fran the various packages of cookies, all different flavors, after I tasted each as a poison test.

“If you need more, just ask,” I said helpfully. “After all, the provisions came from your family, so there is no reason to feel bad about asking for more.”

Lord Eckhart smiled, visibly amused. “Thank you so much, Myne. I am sure everyone will be grateful for the gifts,” he said before leaving with the packages.

With afternoon tea ruined, my attendants quickly began to clean the room, collecting the dishes and leftovers. Since Hugo and Ella had prepared enough food for two people, and I’d completely lost my appetite because of the scare, there was a lot left. I set aside a portion for my attendants, and then Fran organized the rest on a cart, taking the leftovers to the orphanage, where they’d put them to good use.

Moments later, Gil arrived carrying a basket full of bread.

“Ah, I guess I am late.”

“What is it, Gil?”

“Delia said there was too much bread left, so I thought maybe I could give it to Fran before he left. There’s no point in saving it for dinner either, since the cooks said they’ll bake more later.”

“There have not been many divine gifts for the orphanage lately, have there?” I commented, recalling the history lessons which explained that many blue priests had returned to their families, a direct result of the civil war and the scarcity of mana. The impact was that many gray attendants, with no masters to serve, ended up back in the orphanage. “I think it is better to take it to them than throw it away.”

“Yeah, sounds great.” Gil laughed and adjusted the basket. Without a doubt, the orphanage residents would be happy to receive even four extra breads.

“Actually, Gil, the orphanage is not in the nobles’ quarters, is it?” He raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Could I go with you, then? I would like to see what it is like at least once.”

Gil’s expression changed immediately, revealing hesitation. He frowned and looked indecisive, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. After a moment of doubt, he replied, “I’m not sure if I should take you there, Sister Myne.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not a pretty place to look at, I’d say.”

That only made me more curious.

“Even so,” I insisted.

Gil let out a resigned sigh before finally agreeing, though reluctantly: “Alright, I’ll take you there.” He paused briefly, carefully looking at my feet and shaking his head with a worried expression. “I know a shortcut that would be much faster, but considering how much snow is out there, it’s better to take the longer, safer route.”

I nodded at his decision, understanding his caution, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed inside. The idea of taking a shortcut sounded much more convenient, especially for someone like me. Still, I chose not to insist and prepared myself to face the longer walk beside him.

As Gil guided me through the corridors, he explained more or less how the orphanage worked: “The orphanage’s dining room is in the girls’ building. The girls’ building has pre-baptism kids, gray shrine maidens that aren’t attendants, and apprentices. Boys go to the boys’ building after being baptized. When giving divine gifts, it makes more sense for working boys to go to the girls’ building than for girls and kids to go the boys’ building, yeah?”

Despite my slower pace, we managed to reach the girls’ building while Fran was still distributing food to the gray apprentices. A line had formed in front of him while he and a few shine maidens were in charge of preparing and serving the portions. A hum of low voices filled the place, and they seemed so engrossed in the meal that they didn’t notice us enter. Gil and I exchanged glances, shrugged, and headed for the stairs that would take us to where the pre-baptized children stayed.

When the door opened, a smell that reminded me of the lower city wafted out. Gil and I immediately pinched our noses.

With the door open and the light streaming in, we could clearly see the inside of the room. It was filthy, to say the least. On the floor, straw mattresses similar to what my family had—but much older—were scattered about with several children sprawled on the ground with blank expressions, wearing little or no clothing. In one corner of the room, separated from the children but still dangerously close, I could see buckets that seemed to be filled with feces and urine. With no windows and only a few candles scattered around, the environment remained dark and desolate, even during the day.

I was paralyzed with shock at what I saw. The place was marked by extreme poverty, and I felt a strong discomfort, but I managed to control myself and not throw up.

Even so, thinking about it, the situation was not much different from the conditions of some of the poorest families in the lower city, aside from the nudity, but perhaps because I had been in a place immaculately free of filth for a while, the sight hit me harder than it should have.

“…Divine gifts?” Noticing the smell of food, some of the children made trembling sounds and crawled toward us with shining eyes. They were so thin as to be severely malnourished, which shook me deeply.

“Looks bad, right?” Gil said, snapping me out of my daze for a moment. He stepped forward and started handing out bread to the starving children. “But believe me: it used to be worse. Much worse. When the current High Bishop took over, this place was…” Gil shook his head, his expression growing very dark, as if remembering a nightmare. What?! How could it have been ‘much worse’?! “Anyway, after he took over, the gray priests were made responsible for emptying the buckets every day and cleaning the whole place at least once a month. That helped a lot, although there’s still a lack of divine gifts to satisfy everyone’s hunger.”

I struggled to imagine what ‘much worse’ meant as described by Gil. If a monthly cleaning left the place this degrading, it was frightening to picture how it was before, when not even that was done. It probably wasn’t rare for children to die right there, victims of cold, hunger, or diseases brought by the accumulated filth. Part of me felt an awful tightness. How could people live with this reality, knowing that, aside from prayers and ceremonies, such fragile lives were lost in that forgotten basement?

Still shaken, I had to ask, even with my voice trembling and my chest tight: “But why keep them here, like this? Why leave them to their own devices in such a pitiful state?”

Gil looked at me, clearly confused by my concern, but replied with the sincerity of someone who saw no alternative: “They’re not baptized yet, Sister Myne.”

I was paralyzed, trying to understand what exactly he meant by that. I opened my mouth to insist, to seek a deeper explanation, but was interrupted by a voice from behind.

“Gil, what is Sister Myne doing here?!” The voice was Fran’s, who approached with hurried steps and a stern expression, carrying a basket similar to Gil’s. There was worry and a certain desperation in his gaze, and his tone left no room for argument.

The scare was immediate. The children, startled by Fran’s presence, ran back to their mattresses. Gil, for his part, went pale and, perhaps by instinct, tried to hide behind me. I, equally nervous, did the same, making us awkwardly bump into each other.

“Sister Myne, this is not a suitable place for you,” Fran said as he approached, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Gil, you should not have brought her here.”

“I am sorry…” we both replied at the same time.

Fran let out a long, weary sigh, as if that episode was just another burden among so many he carried daily.

“I just wanted to understand what the orphanage was really like, Fran,” I tried to explain, mustering the courage to argue. “Delia never talks about this place, and although I know about the existence of the pre-baptized children, I have never seen any of them around. That is why I insisted Gil bring me. Please, do not blame him.”

“Sister Myne…” Gil whimpered softly, moved, by my side.

Fran didn’t seem impressed by my speech, however.

“I imagine you now see the reason for all your doubts.”

I started to nod but stopped mid-motion and looked at Fran. “Not all of them. Actually, I had just asked Gil why these children are kept abandoned here.”

Fran frowned, as if the reason was too obvious: “Because they are not baptized yet.”

“Gil said the same thing, but I still do not understand. Why does not being baptized mean abandonment? What does one thing have to do with the other?” I asked, feeling my indignation grow inside me.

Fran and Gil exchanged glances, both showing incomprehension at my insistence.

“Maybe the commoners in the lower city have different customs?” Gil suggested, shrugging, to which Fran nodded, as if that were a possible explanation for my strangeness.

“Let us get out of here first. This place is not suitable for your status, Sister Myne. I will answer what you need in your quarters,” declared Fran, ending the conversation there, at least for now.

I reluctantly agreed and stepped aside so Fran could quickly hand out the food to the children. After that, he picked me up in his arms and carried me back to my room, as if he wanted to get me away from that scene as quickly as possible.

Back there, the atmosphere was no less tense. Delia and Rosina hurried in, their faces full of worry, and subjected me to a long lecture about the dangers of disappearing without warning. Although they served me tea and a slice of pound cake, the weight of those images from the orphanage kept me from feeling any appetite.

Fran noticed my discomfort, for he sighed deeply and called my attention back to the present.

“Sister Myne, not eating will not make life better for those children,” he said, his voice full of kindness, though also resignation.

Yeah, I know… On the other hand, maybe it will?

While I internally worked through that idea, Fran began to answer the question asked at the orphanage: “Sister Myne, according to custom, children are only seen as people after their baptism at the age of seven. Before that, children are fragile and may die at any moment. So, for all intents and purposes, it is as if they do not exist yet.”

What?!

“Fran, that makes no sense at all.”

“Is it not like that in the lower city?” Gil asked, genuinely curious.

“Over there, we know little children are fragile and only after baptism at seven are they considered apprentices and gain a more defined role in society. But to deny that they are people? Is that not a bit much? If I had been treated like those children are, I probably would not even be alive now.”

“Sister Myne, a temple orphan hardly has the same value as a commoners’ child of an artisan or merchant, who, in turn, does not have the same value as a noble child. Even among nobles, baptized children will always have priority over non-baptized children. I imagine if a commoner likewise had to choose between feeding a baptized child and an unbaptized one, the choice would be as obvious as the previous examples,” explained Fran, showing how the hierarchy of society extended even to the children.

“So, it is a matter of status…” I murmured, feeling the bitterness of that realization.

“In part, yes,” confirmed Fran. “But, more deeply, it is about the fact that someone’s value is intrinsically tied to what that person can contribute to society.”

My anguish was so great that I couldn’t contain myself anymore. “Is there not anything I can do to help? I will not be able to read in peace knowing there are children on the brink of death next door.”

Fran, visibly tired of the whole discussion, sighed once again.

“If anything is to be done, it is best to discuss it directly with the High Priest,” he advised, as if handing me the responsibility of challenging the established structure.

“Alright,” I replied, determined not to ignore the situation.

As I wrote my meeting request on a tablet, the previous idea returned to my mind.

“I have got it!” I exclaimed excitedly, startling my attendants. “What if my kitchen produces more food? I will not be able to eat it all, so the surplus could be sent to the orphanage!”

Delia, however, was categorical: “No way. It’s winter! What if your provisions run out, what will you do then?”

“There is no need to worry, Delia. I will not be here all winter. If there is enough left for the four of you when I am gone, it will be fine,” I pointed out, excited about my idea. Even though I was the only one in the room who felt that way, by far. “Besides, I am used to restrictive diets during winter. Just these days in the temple I have eaten more than in my whole life!”

My attendants paled furiously and then it was Fran’s turn to protest: “The High Bishop and the High Priest will not like hearing that at all.”

I shrugged, smiling teasingly.

“You just have to not tell them, right?”