Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 3 - Chapter 2.1

Chapter 2

RADCLIFFE WORKSHOP

Anne’s boxy wagon followed closely behind Kat’s.

As they headed south along the main road, they came across one of the broad streets that circled the royal castle. They turned onto that street and drove their wagons toward the west side of the city.

After traveling that way for a while, they arrived at some buildings that were four or five times larger than the merchant houses that crowded together in the areas near the markets.

Every one of them had an imposing gabled roof.

There were hardly any single-story buildings. Most of them were at least two stories tall. If the attic rooms with small windows were included, the taller ones were four-story red brick constructions.

These were the shops of woolen fabric wholesalers, or traders who handled goods imported from abroad—specifically, warehouse storefronts capable of holding large quantities of goods. They appeared to be in a part of town where wealthy merchants built their stores.

Anne and Kat turned a corner, and a dark reddish-brown brick wall suddenly appeared, running parallel to the road. The wall continued into the distance. Anne peered ahead and saw what looked like a gate to the premises, still a ways off.

Two or three carriages were parked in front of the gate.

What could this structure be?

Anne gazed at the brick wall, her curiosity rising. Leafy branches of deciduous trees poked over the top of the wall. Beyond those branches, she could see several gabled roofs of various sizes.

Quite a few buildings stood close together on the other side.

When they got closer to the gate, Kat stopped his wagon.

Anne pulled up alongside him.

“We’ll reach the gate of the main studio of the Radcliffe Workshop soon.”

Again, Anne looked up at the red brick wall that was right beside her.

“So on the other side of this wall that seems to go on forever is the head house of the Radcliffe Workshop? …Incredible. It’s…huge.”

There are three main factions of candy crafters.

The Mercury Workshop.

The Paige Workshop.

And the Radcliffe Workshop.

Studios affiliated with each faction are scattered throughout the whole kingdom. Each branch operates with permission from the faction’s maestro. The main studio, sometimes called the head house, is personally run by the maestro. It employs several Silver Sugar Masters and a few dozen apprentices, who do everything from harvesting sugar apples and refining them into silver sugar to creating candy sculptures.

Kat moved his wagon forward again, and Anne followed.

The gate to the premises had double doors made of wrought iron.

And they were standing open.

Just past it was a large, two-story building with an extremely slanted red gable roof.

Near the gate were three people who appeared to be candy crafters affiliated with the Radcliffe Workshop.

They were asking the incoming candy crafters for their names, then directing them to a small table set up off to the side, where they had to sign some papers before they were allowed inside.

Kat and Anne both alighted from their wagons. Pulling his horse by the bridle, Kat entered through the gate first.

“Hey. I’m here to join in the work. Lemme through.”

As soon as he passed through, Kat called out to a blond young man nearby.

“Ah yes. Umm, your name is…?”

The man turned around and looked startled.

“Oh…Anne?” he mumbled.

He gazed past Kat and noticed Anne, who was standing behind him.

She let out a small sigh as soon as she saw him. She knew him all too well.

“Jonas… Of course you would be here, but…”

He was certainly not someone she wanted to reunite with any time soon.

“Hey, Jonas! What’re you spacing out for?!” someone yelled from behind him.

This person seemed to be the oldest one there, a man in his midtwenties. He had a conspicuously large nose and came across as dull-witted. But his unassuming brown eyes moved shrewdly, flicking back and forth between Kat and Jonas.

“Jonas, it’s rude to make them wait, you know!” he said, clapping his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Jonas looked startled, but he returned his gaze to Kat, who was standing in front of him.

“Ah, sorry. I’ll take your name.”

“It’s fine, no need. I’ll show him in.” The young man pushed Jonas aside and stepped in front of him. “My apologies, I’m Sammy Jones, reception manager. Mr. Alph Hingley, the Silver Sugar Master, is it? I know who you are! This guy doesn’t know anything; sorry he was so rude. I’ll show you right inside, if I could just get you to sign the paperwork,” he said, urging Kat toward the table.

On the other side of the table sat a composed young man who skillfully readied the documents. His looks were striking: light-brown hair and eyes of such a deep blue that they appeared purple. Everything about him, from his knee-length jacket to his soft-looking necktie, was genteel and refined.

Anne felt she had seen that face somewhere before.

“Welcome, Mr. Hingley. It’s been too long. First of all, please sign here.”

The young man behind the table smiled and held out a quill pen.

“You came too, Powell?” Kat sounded surprised.

“Not exactly. I belong to the Radcliffe Workshop now.”

“Why? Isn’t yer old man part of the Paige Workshop?”

“My father is my father. And I am me. I don’t like being compared to him, so here I am.”

Kat snorted and took the pen.

Sammy stood by Kat’s side and said with a grin, “You’re really helping us out by coming here, Mr. Hingley. I’ll show you to your room.”

Kat leaned over the table, and as he was signing, he said, “Don’t you worry about me. If you tell me where it is, I’m sure I can find my room on my own. More importantly, there’s someone else behind me. Go tend to her.”

Sammy finally looked in Anne’s direction. His smile disappeared, like a mask had fallen from his face.

He approached Anne, who was still holding her horse by the bridle, and looked her up and down.

Jonas was frozen on the spot. He appeared as if he didn’t know what he should be doing. He twisted his body a little to let Sammy pass, then glanced back and forth between Anne and Sammy.

“What do you want?” Sammy asked brusquely.

“I also came to participate in the work of refining the silver sugar. And I intend to enter the Royal Candy Fair as well.”

“Huh? A girl?”

Anne bristled at his mocking voice and attitude, but she answered calmly.

“I may be a girl, but I am a candy crafter.”

“I guess some studio heads will take women as apprentices, huh? And you do occasionally come across those self-proclaimed candy crafters who can hardly sculpt a thing. But we don’t let those types into our studio!”

“I am a candy crafter. My skills have been formally recognized.”

“By who? Your mommy or someone?”

“By the former Duke of Philax.”

When he heard that, the young man standing behind the table looked up. Then—

“Mr. Hingley, excuse me for a moment,” he said quietly before leaving the desk and walking slowly over to Anne. “Are you…Anne Halford?”

Sammy scowled. His eyes shone with much greater malice than earlier. Then he looked up at the driver’s bench of the boxy wagon that was parked behind Anne.

“Well, I don’t care who you are,” he said. “I can’t let you inside.”

“Why not?!”

“You’ve got a pet fairy with you, don’t you? It’s the rule that only humans and worker fairies that are involved in the work are allowed into the studio. The little one over there may be a worker fairy, but this pretty one must be a pet. If you want to work at our studio, first go sell that fairy.”

“No way…”

“It’s the rules.”

Anne bit her lip and frowned.

She knew it would probably be best to withdraw for the time being and return after carefully collecting her thoughts. It annoyed her to be driven away, but she knew she couldn’t make a good decision on the spur of the moment.

Kat had finished signing and was leaning against the table, intently watching their exchange.

“Now get going! Wash your face and come back again later!” Sammy hollered with obvious relish.

“Wait a minute, Sammy.”

The young man with light-brown hair placed his hand softly on Sammy’s shoulder.

“What is it?”

“She’s all right.” The young man turned to Anne and gave her a gentlemanly smile. “So it is you. I don’t suppose you remember me? It was quite a while ago, and we only met briefly at the Weather Vane when my colleagues said some rude things. I’m sorry about what happened back then.”

At that point, Anne finally remembered.

“Ah, you’re that guy—”

“Keith Powell. Nice to meet you.” He held his hand out for a handshake without hesitation.

Flustered, Anne gripped his hand. “Uh, nice to meet you, too. I’m Anne Halford.”

Nine months earlier, with the money she had just received from the former Duke of Philax, Anne had gone to the Weather Vane to spend the winter. When she got there, she had received some snide comments from some workers belonging to the Radcliffe Workshop.

The young man before her eyes was the one who had admonished them.

The other men had called him Keith, and she remembered he had commanded their respect.

Sammy walked straight up to Keith’s side.

“Keith. Send her away. She’s brought a pet fairy with her. If she doesn’t sell it off or leave it with someone, she can’t come inside. We’ve got rules, you know?”

“A pet fairy? If I remember correctly, you had this fairy with you at the Weather Vane, too, didn’t you?”

Keith’s gaze shifted to Challe, who was sitting in the driver’s seat of the wagon. And then—

“He is…beautiful…,” Keith murmured in spite of himself. “Last time, the room was rather dim. I only got a glimpse of him, so I couldn’t really tell, but seeing him in a bright place like this, he’s incredible… I’ve never seen such a beautiful fairy.”

Keith sounded like he was bewitched. He stared at Challe for a full minute. He didn’t seem distracted exactly, but more like he was turning some thoughts over in his mind.

Challe, meanwhile, was used to the attention. He averted his eyes, as if to say, Look all you like.

Keith slowly turned his gaze back to Anne. “Say, Anne. Are you hesitating because you don’t want to let go of this fairy?”

“He’s a dear friend of mine who’s been traveling with me. I don’t own him or put him to work. But he’s my friend, so I don’t want to leave him, that’s all.”

“Oh? He doesn’t work for you? In that case, there is a way he can come into the studio. I can get him in.”

“Really?”

“I’m planning to enter the Royal Candy Fair this year. I want to use him as a model for my entry piece. So I would like to borrow him from time to time when I need to. If you’ll consent to that, I can let you bring him in.”

“Model?!”

“If I say I’m using him as my model, he becomes someone who’s necessary for the production of my work. Then he can enter the studio. I don’t think something like this would go well if it came from you, since you’re a newcomer, but I have a lot of pull within the studio, you see?”