Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 3 - Chapter 2.2

The question was whether he could borrow the fairy. Anne felt repulsed by the way he spoke, as if Challe was an object.

Challe was not Anne’s possession. She didn’t want to treat him like one.

Moreover, it didn’t seem likely that he would agree to such a thing.

“I’m sorry. That’s…”

Anne was about to decline, when Challe tugged suddenly at her arm from behind her.

When she twisted her neck around to look up at him, he announced, with a calm look on his face, “Very well. She’ll sign. Give us the paperwork.”

“Challe?! Why?! You actually intend to be his model?!”

“I can do that much.”

The corners of Challe’s mouth turned up into a slight smirk.

These humans thought it was only natural that they should make fairies work for them. He had a way of mocking them even as he acceded to their demands.

From his cold expression, Anne could sense his confidence and his contempt.

“Sign the paper. Or do you want to be separated?”

“Uh-uh, but—”

She was conflicted. She hated the idea of placing such a burden on Challe.

“Sign the paper.”

Challe pushed her gently in Keith’s direction, and she stumbled forward. She turned back to look at Challe once more. He was scowling at her, as if to say, Hurry up and do it. With his support, Anne made up her mind.

“Keith. Challe has agreed to serve as your model, so I’m going to sign the papers. Please let me take part in refining the silver sugar.”

“Wonderful. Well then, your signature please, right here.”

Keith guided Anne over to the table. Kat cleared the way.

As Anne filled out the documentation, she heard Sammy grumbling behind her. “Jonas, go talk to Marcus about this. Ask him whether we should really let this girl in.”

“I don’t think it’ll do any good,” Jonas replied. “The old man’s more likely to listen to Keith’s opinion than to the likes of me.”

“You’re useless, Jonas. Hey, Keith!”

When Sammy called his name, Keith looked up.

“What?”

“Why do we have to let someone like her in?!”

“If the issue of the pet fairy is resolved, then there’s no reason to reject her, is there? Or do you have some other argument to make, Sammy?”

Keith’s cheerful smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“N-no…”

Sammy finally got the message and shut up.

Anne looked up at Keith again.

Who is this guy?

“Um, ribbon. Ribbon!”

Anne looked restlessly around while she diligently braided her hair.

“There it is. Okay, there we go. Sorry, Mithril Lid Pod.”

She’d almost sent Mithril flying with her arm. He was dozing on the bed, nodding off at a staccato rhythm.

Anne apologized in a fluster, but Mithril didn’t even open his eyes.

While she was focused on him, her braided hair unraveled.

“Oh, come on!”

Daybreak had not yet come.

It was the day after she had taken up lodgings at the main studio of the Radcliffe Workshop.

Challe was looking outside through the window. Below it stretched the slim branches of a tree covered in broad, dry leaves. The layout of the grounds was clearly visible from their second-story room.

Nine buildings of various sizes made up the campus of the Radcliffe Workshop’s main studio.

The faction’s maestro, Marcus Radcliffe, and his family lived in the two-story building across from the gate where he received guests and conducted business negotiations. This was known as the main house.

Behind it was a large, long, single-story building where the sugar candy was produced.

The next bungalow behind that one was where the work of refining silver sugar took place.

Three two-story red brick buildings served as dormitories where the crafters lived. There was also one stable and two warehouses.

Anne and the fairies had been assigned a room in one of those dorms.

Ordinary crafters slept in a large common room with rows of beds. Private rooms in the dorms were limited to either Silver Sugar Masters or those who the maestro deemed as possessing an equivalent level of skill.

Anne should have been put up in the common quarters, but there was no way she could sleep there with all the men. So through special arrangements, she had been granted a private room.

Anne had leaped out of bed the moment she opened her eyes. She changed her clothes and washed her face, then hastily braided her hair.

“You look like a little baby squirrel,” Challe said with astonishment as he watched her.

“A squirrel? So that means I look way cuter than a scarecrow?!”

For a moment, Anne was happy and burst into a smile.

“You look just like them, the way they run around frantically, hunting for food.”

“…I should have known. So that’s what you meant.”

Anne glumly finished tying her hair. Then she peered somberly into her hand mirror.

My hair. I wonder if I look immature because of the braids? Maybe I would look more grown-up if I left it down? I wonder which one Challe prefers.

She was staring intensely into the mirror, thinking, when she heard Challe’s voice from behind her.

“Are you trying to break the mirror with your mind?”

Without her noticing, he had moved from his position by the window to stand right behind her.

Anne got embarrassed and turned the mirror facedown onto the bed.

“I—I was just looking to see if my hair was done right.”

“It looks the same as always. No problem.”

Then Challe touched Anne’s braided hair casually. She jumped and turned around.

Even in the dim light, his black eyes were enchanting. Anne couldn’t help being drawn in by his gaze.

“Hey, Challe…? Do you like it better when my hair is up, or…?”

She suddenly blurted out the question, talking as if in a delirium.

“Your hair?” Challe asked with a puzzled look.

Anne clapped a hand over her mouth.

“I-I’m just as bad as Mithril Lid Pod!”

“What?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it! Wake up, Mithril Lid Pod. Let’s go to work.”

Anne shook Mithril awake, and he crawled sluggishly up onto her shoulder, yawning all the while.

“You can take your time, Challe,” said Anne. “Though, we don’t know when Keith is going to come summon you, so you probably can’t relax. Sorry about that.”

“I thought I told you; I don’t mind.”

“Yes, thank you. Okay! From today on, I’ve got to give it my all!”

The night before, Anne had been racked with anxiety from being in an unfamiliar place, and she had hardly slept one bit. To lift her spirits, she waved good-bye with a cheerful smile.

“Okay, we’re off!”

Anne left the room with Mithril to start helping with the work of refining silver sugar.

As she was walking quickly down the hallway, one of the doors along the corridor opened.

“Anne. Good morning.”

Keith poked his face out of the open door. His room was diagonally across from Anne’s. Out of the three dormitories, the second floor of their building was exclusively private rooms.

There were only four people currently occupying those spaces.

There was Kat, and Anne. And Elliott Collins, the proxy maestro who had come from the main studio of the Paige Workshop to help with the work. And Keith Powell.

Elliott Collins was a Silver Sugar Master. He was also the representative for his faction, so it was only natural that he got a private room. Kat was also a Silver Sugar Master.

Keith Powell was not, yet he was using a private room. He must have garnered a lot of respect within the Radcliffe Workshop.

However, it couldn’t simply be that he was a talented crafter. No matter how impressive his skills, there would be backlash from the other members of the workshop if he received special treatment. Perhaps there was some unusual circumstance that explained his accommodations. Either that, or a reason why there would be no backlash to begin with.

“Good morning, Keith. Are you heading down to work now, too?” Anne asked.

He shook his head lightly. “I’m off duty today. We take turns getting breaks once a week. Of course, you’ll get one, too. Normally, I can’t take this much time off all at once, so I’ve got to use it effectively. I’d like to borrow Challe; is that all right?”

“Keith, I can’t lend Challe out or let you borrow him. He’ll do what he agreed to do, but…”

“Oh, right. You did say that you’re not in charge of him, didn’t you? I’m sorry; that was a nasty way to put it.”

Anne found his honest apology very likable.

“No, it’s fine. More importantly, Keith, thank you for yesterday. You stuck up for me so that I could come here. You really helped me out. But why are you being so nice to me when the others aren’t at all?”

“I mean, you’re a real crafter, aren’t you? Recognized by the former Duke of Philax, even. There’s no reason for me to be mean to you. Besides, how do I put this? I feel like your circumstances in life might be similar to mine?”

“My circumstances?”

“Your mother was Emma Halford, is that right?”

“Yes, but why do you know that?”

Anne was amazed to hear a near stranger mention her mother by name.

“When I heard rumors of you in connection with the former Duke of Philax, I thought maybe you might be related to Ms. Halford, and I asked the Silver Sugar Viscount about you. When I did, he told me it was true.”

“You asked the Silver Sugar Viscount directly? Now that you mention it, you did seem to know Kat as well.”

“Until the year before last, I was acquainted with almost all the Silver Sugar Masters. Ms. Halford especially left an impression on me. Though, I was only four or five years old when I met her. I was surprised to learn that there were female Silver Sugar Masters.”

“You met her? You met Mama…?”

This person knew Emma. When she thought about that, Anne felt a surge of nostalgic affection.

Keith looked at Anne with his usual gentle smile. “My father was Edward Powell. Like your mother, he was a Silver Sugar Master. There’s a similarity, right? Between my circumstances and yours.”

Anne was left momentarily breathless.

“…The former Silver Sugar Viscount, Edward Powell?!”

“That’s right,” Keith answered casually.

“Mama told me he was a splendid Silver Sugar Viscount. His term in office lasted over twenty years. If I remember correctly, he passed away from an illness about six months before Mama died. They may have both been Silver Sugar Masters, but that’s a whole different level!”

“Really? But I’m not quite sure he was so splendid. While my father was the Silver Sugar Viscount, there was a year just like this one, when there was a bad harvest of sugar apples. I’ve heard there was terrible mayhem because of it. That was the year before I was born, though, so I can’t really say for certain. Father was upset by what happened. This time, the Silver Sugar Viscount took my father’s failure into account and adopted early preventative measures, so everything’s proceeding in an orderly fashion.”

He wasn’t bragging, but he wasn’t being humble, either. Keith wasn’t acting vain in the slightest as he simply stated the honest truth.

The family of the Silver Sugar Viscount are treated like nobility for the duration of the Viscount’s tenure.

Keith’s aristocratic deportment probably came from his living as a noble for most of his life.

But once the Silver Sugar Viscount is discharged from his post or passes away, his family reverts to their commoner status. Anne had heard that many people came away with a warped way of thinking due to the difference in class, although she didn’t see any evidence of that in Keith.

“But the former Silver Sugar Viscount came out of the Paige Workshop, didn’t he? Why are you at the Radcliffe Workshop, Keith?”

“If I entered the Paige Workshop, I’d be sure to receive special treatment as Powell’s son, right? My father was the first Silver Sugar Viscount ever produced from that faction, after all. I didn’t want that. I thought that if I came here, I might be treated as just another worker. But I don’t think it really changed anything? And it seemed childish to stubbornly insist I didn’t want any special treatment, so I’m just letting it happen.”

Keith shrugged playfully.

He’s the son of the former Silver Sugar Viscount. That explains it.

Ultimately, everyone around him saw his father when they looked at him.

That was the reason why the other candy crafters acted a little reserved toward Keith, and it also explained—along with his talents—why he had been given a private room.

“I respected my father, but I was uncomfortably constrained while he was in office. So now, as much as possible, I don’t want him influencing my life. You know, while my father was alive, I couldn’t enter the Royal Candy Fair, even though I wanted to.”

“Why not?”

“Well, if I won the royal medal, I’m sure the gossip would never end. People would have said I was in the royal family’s favor because I was the son of the Silver Sugar Viscount. On the other hand, if I hadn’t won the medal, they’d talk about me losing despite being the son of the Silver Sugar Viscount. For the sake of my father’s good name, I couldn’t take part.”

“Ah, I see.”

Anne had endured a lot of unpleasant speculation about why she’d been called up in front of the king at the Royal Candy Fair. Since Keith was the son of the Silver Sugar Viscount, he was liable to receive a shower of slander to which Anne’s experience could never compare.

“Even though my father had passed away, last year I was in mourning, so I was unable to enter the Royal Candy Fair. Nobles have to deal with such inconveniences. But my mourning has lifted, and I am a commoner once again. My father’s influence has also begun to wane. So this year, I will enter. I’ve been waiting far too long. Speaking of which, I’d like to get started on making my sculpture. Where is Challe?”

“He’s in my room. If you go and summon him, I think he’ll probably cooperate.”

“Understood. Well then, Anne. Good luck to you.”

Just before they parted, Keith clapped his hand lightly on Anne’s shoulder. It seemed like a gesture of encouragement among equals, something Anne found very refreshing.

Challe sat by the window, watching as the glow of the sunrise gradually engulfed the darkness.

Once Anne left the room, her cheeriness was replaced by a feeling of great emptiness, as if a hole had suddenly opened up beneath him.

Unexpectedly, he thought of Liz.

Liz didn’t have the habit of getting up early like Anne.

She had always lingered in bed until the sun was high in the sky.

When he naturally grew frustrated and told her it was about time to get up, she behaved like a spoiled child and pestered him to pull her upright. Even once she was grown, she sometimes coaxed him into doing it.

Compared with Liz, Anne—

She got up early enough to rival the roosters and was on the move from the moment she opened her eyes.

I wonder why she is always so restless? Whether she’s laughing, or angry, or sighing, she’s always rushing around.

She seemed to never tire.

Just then, he heard a knock.

“Good morning, Challe. Are you here?”

It was Keith. Challe wiped all expression from his face, then stood and opened the door.

“I ran into Anne down the hall. I heard you were in the room, so I came to get you.”

Keith had already neatly dressed himself for the day. His eyes didn’t look sleepy, either.

“I’m sorry for starting so early in the morning, but I want you to come with me.”

“I made a promise. I’ll do whatever you like,” Challe answered indifferently.

Keith smiled disarmingly and showed Challe to his room.

Keith’s room was the same size as Anne’s. Apparently, all the rooms were built the same.

Four barrels of silver sugar had been carried up to the room. On top of the table, which was to be used as a workbench, there was a stone slab and a set of neatly arranged tools.

When he entered the room, Challe leaned against the wall.

“What do you want me to do? Shall I stand on my head? Or take off all my clothes? Hurry up and give me an order, boy.”

Keith looked up from one of the barrels of silver sugar. He turned around with a troubled expression. “‘Boy’…? You and I don’t look very different in age, though.”

“You don’t appear to be over one hundred years old.”

Keith looked momentarily surprised, and then he smiled in understanding. “I see. I suppose that’s how it works for fairies. But I don’t like being called ‘boy.’ I’d like you to at least call me by my name. Now go stand in that bright spot by the window. That’s all I need you to do. I don’t necessarily want you to pose; I just want to get an impression of you and observe some of the details of your appearance.”

Challe stood in the spot he was told and gazed out the window.

Doing this was annoying, but it couldn’t be helped.

This was far preferable to leaving Anne and waiting alone in town. Challe was worried about the kind of trouble Anne might get into if they split up.

A thought suddenly occurred to him.

Maybe I was the one who didn’t want us to separate…

Keith spoke to Challe as he scooped silver sugar into a stone bowl.

“Anne’s about to have a tough time, you know. The rest of us have already finished refining our silver sugar for the Royal Candy Fair. She’s getting a late start, coming into it now. Plus, she’s got to work refining the communal sugar as well. Do you think she’ll be all right?”

Keith seemed worried about her, which was all the more aggravating to Challe.

“That’s all thanks to your buddies for not telling her about this year’s special circumstances. Are you happy about that?”

“Nobody told her? Unbelievable. Why would they all…? But I guess these things do happen. I’m not happy about it, though. Actually, it’s an inconvenience,” Keith answered as he dumped the silver sugar that he had been mixing in the stone bowl on top of the stone slab. “That kind of cowardly behavior is disgraceful. I find it detestable.”

Keith’s words made it clear that their actions offended his strong moral code. Challe could tell he had been raised well and that he took pride in his fastidiousness. He had been brought up to stick to his beliefs and reject delinquency.

Challe, who had spent most of his life under human control, swimming in the muddy waters of the world’s corruption, was somewhat jealous of Keith’s pure, unsullied mind.

Keith dipped his hands into the bowl of cold water that was sitting on the edge of the workbench. As he chilled his hands, he said, “But thank goodness Anne is going to enter this year’s Royal Candy Fair. Out of all the potential contestants gathered here, not one of them can rival me. Even Sammy, who some people say is almost my equal, isn’t worth mentioning, if you ask me. Jonas also makes nice things, but he’s lacking some crucial element, I think. But if Anne takes part in the contest, then it’s really worth my time. I’ve been waiting for an opponent of equal skill.”

His words were full of confidence.

Keith removed his hands from the cold water and began kneading the silver sugar. “Plus, I figure this is the only year I’ll be able to compete against Anne in the candy fair. I’m very fortunate, meeting her for what will be her last chance. I must have amazing luck.”

“Her last chance?” Challe asked.

Keith’s expression turned sympathetic. “That’s right. If she doesn’t become a Silver Sugar Master this year, she probably never will.”

The candy crafters all gathered at the silver sugar refinery while it was still dark outside.

The workers who had been there for some time moved to their stations in order to perform their allotted duties.

Kat and Anne, who had arrived just the day before, were instructed to wait at the end of the building.

There were no partitions inside. It was a sprawling open space, with pillars at regular intervals.

Lined up from the north end of the building to the south were the enormous tools of the trade.

There were three huge barrels for soaking the sugar apples in water. Deeper than Anne was tall, the casks were surrounded by scaffolding.

Next were three large cookstoves for simmering the sugar apples. The pots sitting on top of the stoves were also massive, large enough to contain four or five adults.

Last was an orderly set of four large millstones. Each one was so big that it took four people to turn.

And then against the wall, there were dense rows of shelves holding the flat boards used to dry out the sugar apple pulp.

Fires were promptly lit under the stoves, and the temperature inside the workhouse jumped up.

The crafters used large nets to scoop up the sugar apples that had been steeped in water overnight. They transferred them into the pots that were sitting on top of the stoves.

Anne and Kat were told to wait near the wide-open doorway.

The crafters who had begun their work kept glancing in Anne’s direction as they did their jobs.

Their looks pained her.

There were easily sixty crafters in the workshop. Every one of them was male, which surprised Anne and made her uncomfortable.

Don’t tell me there’s not a single other woman here?

Kat glanced over at Anne and saw her wearing a stiff expression.

“What’s the matter, Anne?”

“Nothing… It’s just all men. I was wondering why there are no women here.”

Anne’s mother, Emma, had told her that they lived in a male-dominated society. But she had also made her living as a Silver Sugar Master. So Anne found it surprising and bizarre that there were actually hardly any others like Emma.

When he heard Anne’s response, Kat gazed out across the workshop like he was checking the movements of the other crafters and said, “Sugar candy is a sacred food. A hundred years ago, not only would yer mom not’ve been a candy crafter, she wouldn’t have even been allowed to touch silver sugar. Training at a studio was considered too physically demanding for women. But the main reason was because of a holdover from the days when women were said to be sinners who disobeyed God’s will, and so they weren’t allowed to do sacred work. The clergy and the founders of the state church… All of them being men had something to do with it, too. Eighty years ago, when the leaders of the state church carried out the reformation, they came out and said women were no longer sinners because their sin had been purified by the Ancestor King Cedric. Thanks to that, things aren’t as strict these days. But still, among candy crafters, there’s this idea that women are butting in where they don’t belong.”

“Women are sinners who disobeyed the will of God?” Anne repeated unhappily.

Kat scowled at her suspiciously. “Sounds like you skipped a lot of Sunday school, huh?”

“…Sorry…I played hooky a lot without letting Mama know…” Anne trailed off.

Keith looked astonished, but he still informed her kindly, “Remember this. God made man in their right hand, and woman in their left. Then they placed that pair of humans down on this Earth. God wanted the humans to become the rulers of the Earth. But the woman was seduced by the beauty of the Fairy King and pledged obedience to him. That was how humans came to be enslaved by the fairies. The Ancestor King Cedric was the one who purified that woman’s sin and emancipated the humans from the fairies. It’s written at the beginning of the holy book. The story of creation.”

The world of candy crafters is essentially a system of apprenticeship. Students closely observe the work of master crafters and learn the required skills. Anne was never apprenticed to a master crafter, but she had always been at her mother’s side. That was as good as being an apprentice of any Silver Sugar Master.

Through the system, students inherit teachings from their masters across generations. Handing down the knowledge of the previous generations is considered an important duty. In that world, it’s difficult for anyone to accept new ideas.

Kat had said there had been a religious reformation eighty years earlier, but that didn’t mean public opinion would shift so easily in accepting and allowing women into the profession of candy crafting.

At that point, Anne suddenly started wondering about something. If all that was true, then how had her mother acquired the skills to become a Silver Sugar Master? It seemed unlikely that an ordinary master crafter would have taken a woman for an apprentice.

I wonder how Mama was able to become a Silver Sugar Master?

Anne had been under the impression that she knew everything there was to know about Emma. But it dawned on her that her mother must have had many experiences that Anne didn’t know about. She had never realized it before. The Anne of a year and a half earlier seemed very childish to her now: ignorant and coddled by her mother.

“Who cares about some creation story?” Mithril said sullenly from atop Anne’s shoulder. “Humans just make up whatever they like. You know, we fairies have our own origin story.”

“Don’t complain to me. It’s not like I’m the one who made it up.”

“Well, that’s true, but…anyway, Kat, hadn’t you better wake Benjamin up? We’re about to start work, right?”

Benjamin was dozing away on top of Kat’s shoulder.

Kat made a gloomy face.

“It’s no use tryin’ to wake him at this hour. He’s still fast asleep… You can basically think of him as not being here. Once the sun comes up, he’ll get a little better.”

Anne wondered why Kat kept Benjamin around, as he didn’t seem very useful. It was a mystery.

When the sky began to brighten, faint light shone into the workhouse through the open doors.

The apprentices noticed and ran around extinguishing the lamps. As Anne and Kat watched them, a composed, middle-aged voice spoke from behind.

“So you finally came, eh, Hingley?”

When Anne and Kat turned around, they saw a man in his fifties approaching from the courtyard.

Following behind him was Jonas. He subtly turned his gaze away from Anne.

Kat grinned and faced the man square on. “It’s because you guys took forever to get in touch with me, Mr. Radcliffe,” he replied.

Radcliffe?

Anne tensed up. This man was probably the maestro of the Radcliffe Workshop.

“Your manners are as atrocious as always, Hingley. You can blame the fact that you changed residence without notifying the Silver Sugar Viscount.”

“How am I supposed to know about stuff like that? Anyway, I came. Put me to work. I need silver sugar.”

“Fine. Your skill is well-known. I’ll have you supervise the whole refinement process. Our Silver Sugar Master is recovering from an illness and isn’t any help. Right now, the proxy maestro from the Paige Workshop, Elliott Collins, is supervising. I’d like you to do that along with him.”

“So he came, too, huh? But I don’t see ’im here. Didn’t see ’im yesterday, either, in the dorm or wherever.”

Kat took a cursory look around the whole workshop, and the man in front of him answered with a groan. “He’s left the grounds without permission and will be late, as usual. It’s fine; you can take over now.”

“He’s pretty irresponsible, huh, that Elliott guy? Well, nothin’ for it. Leave it to me.”

Kat turned on his heel and walked into the throng of workers going every which way.

Once Kat had left, the man finally turned to face Anne.

“You must be Anne Halford. I am Marcus Radcliffe, currently serving as maestro of the Radcliffe Workshop. I’ve heard my nephew Jonas is very much obliged to you.”

Anne wasn’t sure how to respond to his confrontational and sarcastic comment.

“I’ve heard that you want to participate in the Royal Candy Fair, but are you sure that’s a good idea? I’ve got no reason or authority to reject you, so you can do as you please. But if you can’t keep up with the other crafters, I won’t be able to give you any sugar apples.”

“I’ll do the work. That’s why I came.”

“Can you do it? This refining process is of a rather different magnitude than the sort you’d do yourself. Can you move those heavy mortars, ladles, and paddles just like the men? Can you join and work alongside them?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“You can’t get physical labor done by just having a willing spirit. Try not to get in the way but also try to do something useful. That is all I can say. If there’s anything you’d like to tell me from now on, say it to Jonas. Everything goes through him.”

He was telling her to consult with Jonas, even knowing they had a history.

In short, he was telling her, Don’t make complaints, don’t make demands.

Anne could see that Mithril was itching to say something, so she gently took him down off her shoulder and held him in front of her chest in both hands.

Even if she complained, it wouldn’t accomplish anything other than giving Radcliffe an even worse impression.

“Understood.”

“Excellent.”

Marcus nodded and turned around sharply. Jonas was standing behind him. He thumped his hand hard against Jonas’s chest. “Jonas. You’d better work hard, too. Along with Keith, she’s tough competition.”

Jonas staggered backward and replied stiffly, “I know that, Uncle.”

“If you fall behind that little girl at the next candy fair, you’ll be removed from consideration as the next maestro. You can be sure that Keith will be the next one.”

Marcus Radcliffe did not show an ounce of kindness, even toward his nephew. He truly gave the impression that he might ignore blood relationships and designate Keith as his successor.

So Keith is one of the people in the running to be the next maestro of Radcliffe Workshop, then.

That was surely because Keith was one of the most skilled crafters in the whole faction.

“Tough competition,” huh…?

He would be for Anne as well.

Pressing his hand against his chest where he had been struck, Jonas watched Marcus leave.

“Looks like you have it rough in some ways, too…,” Anne said. “So I’m going to have to deal with you again, am I?”

Jonas turned away. “I’m not happy about having to deal with the likes of you, either.”

“Anyway, I’ll go join in the work. Is that okay?”

“‘Is that okay?’ My uncle said it was fine, so do whatever you want!”

“All right, I will.”

As soon as she said that, Anne ran right out of the building.

Jonas’s eyes went wide.

“Hey, Anne?!” Mithril shouted in surprise. “What’s going on?! Are you deserting the job because he got huffy with you?!”

“That’s not it; don’t worry!” she answered as she dashed back to her room.

Challe wasn’t there. He was probably in Keith’s room, modeling as promised. But that was more convenient for Anne.

She set Mithril down on the bed and pulled out the bag that she’d stuffed under it, retrieving a set of men’s clothes.

“Mithril Lid Pod, close your eyes for a minute.”

As soon as she asked, Anne started taking off her clothes.

“Wah, hey! Anne?!”

Mithril frantically covered his eyes.

Anne swapped her clothes for a men’s shirt and trousers.

These were Jonas’s clothes, which she had acquired a year earlier. As expected, they were baggy around the waist and in the shoulders. But she didn’t have to roll up the sleeves and pants as much as before.

She must have grown a little taller since last year.

“This will do. Let’s go, Mithril Lid Pod.”

Anne picked Mithril up and returned to the workhouse again.

She walked straight over to Kat.

“Kat. What stations don’t have enough hands? Give me instructions. I’ll join the work.”

Supervision of the workhouse had been entrusted to Kat. The first thing Anne had to do was to ask for instructions from him.

Kat looked at Anne’s outfit and grinned.

“Nice clothes you got there. Bet those’ll be easier to move around in.”

The work involved climbing up and down scaffolding, and a lot of other movements that Anne didn’t usually have to do. It would have been utterly impossible to handle in her usual dress.

Kat pointed to the three large stoves.

“Go work the stoves.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mithril Lid Pod—you go with Benjamin to the warehouse in the back. A wagon will be setting off shortly to harvest sugar apples. Get on it and help with the harvest.”

“Huh?! I’m staying with Anne!”

“Don’t you disobey me, pip-squeak! You’ll work just as hard as Anne. Do a good job and help her out. Now hurry up and get going. Hey, Benjamin, you too, get up.”

Kat grabbed Benjamin, who was dozing on his shoulder, by the scruff of his neck and lowered him to the floor.

Benjamin sat on the floor, gave a big yawn, and opened his eyes. “…Ohhh, time to work? …I don’t wanna…”

Mithril hopped down off Anne’s shoulder and grabbed Benjamin’s hand to pull him to his feet. “Can’t be helped, I guess. We’ve got to lend Anne a hand… Come on, Benjamin, let’s go.”

“I don’t waaanna. I haaate working. There’s not much I want to do besides eat.”

“Don’t you know the saying Those who don’t work don’t eat?!”

“You’re such a hard worker, Surusuru!”

“It’s. Mith. Ril!”

As she watched Mithril go, dragging Benjamin along with him, Anne gathered her courage and headed toward the stoves.

The enormous stoves and pots were surrounded by low scaffolding about the height of Anne’s head.

Apprentices were busily carrying in bundles of firewood and stacking them up near the stoves. Pieces of firewood were thrown one after another into the fire.

The crafters who were tossing the firewood in and regulating the intensity of the fires were dripping with sweat from the heat of the flames.

There were more people up on the scaffolding, stirring the huge boiling pots, while others on the platform were skimming refuse and scum off the surface.

Voices shouting about the strength of the fire rained down from above.

Anne took a brief look around at how the work was progressing.

The workers stirring the pots and skimming the scum seemed to get worn out quickly.

Their arms became sluggish, and their faces contorted in pain. When that happened, someone would climb up to relieve them.

Anne zeroed in on the pot that had the fewest number of people working on it and clambered up the scaffolding.

“I’ll take over,” she said to a crafter whose face was contorted in pain as he stirred the pot.

He looked at Anne in surprise. “You will?”

“Yes. I was instructed to do so by the supervisor, so I will join in on the work.”

“This paddle is heavy. And if you don’t stir it all the way down to the bottom, it’ll burn. If that happens, there’s no recovering it.”

“I’m well aware.”

“It’s not something a girl can do. Outta the way!” A crafter who had come up onto the platform pushed her aside. It was Sammy Jones. “You’re in the way—get out of here!” he shouted, then took over stirring the pot.

Anne bit her lip, completely disparaged.

“Oh no— Girls can’t be coming up to places like this! It’s dangerous; look out!”

Suddenly, someone grabbed Anne’s waist from behind.

She shrieked and turned around to see an unfamiliar young man.

“It would be awful if you fell and hurt your face. I’ll help you down from there. Don’t be scared.”

He had vivid red hair sticking out wildly in all directions. His smiling face was amiable and cheerful, and his winsome downturned eyes looked friendly.

“Wh-who are you?! Let go of me! Who do you think you are?!”

When she said that, the man let go of her unexpectedly quickly.

“Who am I? If I must answer, I am a friend to all women! Say, would you like to have tea with me later?”

“What?!”

Just then, Kat could be heard shouting from the direction of the stoves, “What the hell do you think you’re doing over there, Elliott?!”

The red-haired man shrugged. “You found me, huh? Good old Kat; your eyes are as sharp as always!”

“Get yer ass over here, Elliott Collins! Do your job! Wait—before that, apologize for being late!”

Elliott Collins?! This guy?!

Elliott Collins was the name of the proxy maestro from the Paige Workshop. He was a prominent Silver Sugar Master.

As Anne was standing there aghast, she heard yet another voice from underneath the scaffolding.

“Elliott. Get down. That guy is coming over here. He’s Kat, right? He seems kind of scary.”

It was the soft voice of a young woman.

Anne looked and saw a woman who appeared to be two or three years older than her staring up at them through the scaffolding. She had a fragile, helpless appearance. Her eyes were green, and her long blond hair looked soft. She was beautiful.

Who’s that? She’s not a candy crafter, is she?

The young woman was dressed in a lavender, lace-trimmed dress. The finely draped hem spread out gorgeously around her. It was not the attire of a worker.

The woman frowned when she made eye contact with Anne. “…A candy crafter?” she murmured.

Anne was worried that she might have done something rude. But the woman immediately turned away from her.

“Ah yes, my dear,” Elliott Collins said as he jumped down from the scaffolding. “I’m so sorry, leaving you alone in a place like this.”

Then he stood next to the young woman and raised one hand in greeting to Kat, whose shoulders were squared off in anger. “Hey, Kat! It’s been a while,” he said. “Maybe about two years? Let’s go drinking tonight.”

Elliott held out his hand looking for a handshake, and Kat struck it with great force.

“Who would go drinking with the likes of you?! Get to work. And what’s that woman doing here?!”

“How rude of you, Kat. This happens to be Ms. Bridget Paige.”

Kat frowned and looked at the young woman. She curtsied slightly.

“I am the daughter of Glen Paige, the maestro of Paige Workshop. My name is Bridget.”

“Why is this Paige Workshop girl here?” Kat asked sullenly.

Elliott grinned at him happily. “Bridget is my fiancée, I’ll have you know. She came to see me.”

“That’s not true. I’m here to help. You need people for kitchen duty, so women from each faction are also gathering here,” Bridget matter-of-factly retorted.

“Well, that’s the official reason. She came to cheer me on while I’m hard at work in Lewiston!”

“You’re not working hard at all!” Kat shouted. While he was at it, he turned to look at Anne. “And you, what’re you standing around for? Get to work!”

“Ah, right!”

The other crafters glared sharply at Anne even though she’d answered affirmatively.

Kat saw that and scowled with intense displeasure.

“Any idiot who harasses a fellow crafter will be thrown into one of the pots and boiled alive with the apples!” he shouted for everyone around him to hear. “I will give a job to anyone who’s willing to work! Save your harassment for when someone half-asses their duties! If that happens, I don’t care if you ignore them or you criticize them. You can do what you like!”

The workers flinched at Kat’s menacing attitude.

A crafter near Anne who had been using a large ladle to scoop out scum tapped her on the shoulder. “No use fighting it. Hey! Take over here.”

“Okay!”

Anne enthusiastically went to the man’s side.

“Poor thing. Shouldn’t you give her a more ladylike job to do, Kat?” Elliott looked sympathetic. His droopy eyes turned down even further.

“What do you mean by ladylike?”

“Like cleaning, or fixing tea, or chatting with me, for example.”

“I don’t think that last one is a real job. And the other stuff is work for the apprentices. The girl is a candy crafter. Not an apprentice anymore.”

“She’s been vetted? As a crafter?” Bridget asked. She sounded surprised.

Kat declared without hesitation, “She’s a crafter.”

“But of course, that’s impossible for a woman. They get so worked up over everything, it’s ridiculous.”

When Elliott spat out those words, Bridget’s gaze lowered to her feet. “It’s awfully hot in here, Elliott. Since I came all this way, I’m going into town to do a little sightseeing.”

Bridget hurried toward the exit.

“Ah, well then, I too—”

Kat seized Elliott by the collar before he could walk off.

“You’ve got a meeting with me right now about yer job!”

Anne accepted the ladle from the man. It was enormous, about the size of a broom. It was solidly built and profoundly heavy, and she had to use both hands to hold it.

She strained with her whole body to support the ladle. She ran it across the surface of the boiling sugar apple stew. Gritting her teeth, she bore the weight.

This is my chance. Kat gave it to me.

Once she had skimmed off a ladle full of scum, she rinsed it off in a bucket of water positioned under the scaffolding.

Then she lifted it again and headed back to the pot.

If I can’t do this, I have no right to receive sugar apples.

Her trembling arms tingled with pain, but she couldn’t say a word about it.

The scaffolding was sweltering with the heat from the stoves and the steam rising from the pots. Sweat dripped from every pore in her body.