Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 3 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

WHAT I NEED TO MAKE

Anne’s arms were sluggish and heavy. All her muscles were tingly and numb.

By the time the fires in the stoves died down, and work was finished for the day, the sun had already set.

When Anne stepped out of the workshop, a cool breeze caressed her cheek.

A huge steaming cauldron had been set up in the courtyard. A queue formed in front of it. For dinner, a sheep shank stew was distributed to all the workers.

Some people returned to the large dormitory room with food in hand, while some dug into their meal under the trees in the courtyard.

Anne lined up at the tail end of the queue to get her dinner. She was beginning to feel dizzy. In addition to the hard physical labor, the heat from the stove had sapped her strength.

Dishing up food from the pot were the wife and daughters of Marcus, the maestro of the Radcliffe Workshop. Accompanying them were ladies who appeared to have come to help from each faction. Bridget Paige was there, too.

There were also several female worker fairies. Among them was Cathy, the fairy employed by Jonas. Cathy was in charge of handing out the bowls for the food.

Anne finally made it up to the front. She was standing before Cathy, who was passing out bowls, so—

“It’s been a while, Cathy.”

Anne wasn’t sure she should ignore her, so she just offered a simple greeting.

But Cathy took one look at Anne and turned away irritably.

“You can get your own,” she snapped and did not hand her a bowl.

Disheartened by Cathy’s usual attitude, Anne took three bowls on her own.

She moved toward the cauldron and held them out. Bridget was the one spooning stew from the pot into the bowls.

When she saw Anne, she frowned. Then she said quietly, as if the sight disagreed with her, “But you’re a girl… What a dreadful state you’re in…”

Anne sensed malice behind Bridget’s words. Ever since they first met, she seemed to hate her for some reason. Anne thought about asking why but decided against it, as it might make her angry, which would be even more trouble. And Anne was exhausted. There was no denying that she was drenched in sweat and looked awful.

“Give me my food, please.”

Just saying that took all of Anne’s strength.

Bridget made a stern face. “Three bowls? It’s one bowl per person.”

“I’ve got companions. I’m asking for their portions, too.”

“I haven’t heard anything about it.”

“It’s fine; she gets three bowls. Give it to her.”

Suddenly, an eloquent voice interrupted them. Without Anne noticing, Keith had come to stand beside her.

“Keith?”

“She has fairy companions.”

Keith pointed behind him.

Challe was approaching, with an exhausted Mithril riding on his shoulder.

Bridget watched Challe get closer in blank amazement. Her pale cheeks quickly turned pink.

Challe took the bowls from Anne’s hands and thrust them out at Bridget.

“We’ll take our food now.”

“Ah… S-sure. Got it.”

Bridget took the bowls, filled them with stew, and passed them back one by one. Her hands looked like they were trembling slightly.

Challe received two of them, and Anne accepted the last one.

“I’m going back to the room.”

“Challe!”

He was about to turn and go, but then Keith called out to stop him, a little flustered. When Challe turned to look at him, Keith was holding his index finger up to his own lips.

“Keep quiet about the thing, yeah?”

Challe gave a slight scowl, but he nodded silently and walked off.

“Oh, wait!”

Before she started walking, Anne turned to face Keith.

“Thank you, Keith.”

“My pleasure.”

He raised his hand casually, and the gesture, though trivial, looked sophisticated. It was another sign of his noble upbringing.

As Anne started following after Challe, she caught a glimpse of Bridget. She had a dreamy look on her face like she had encountered something marvelous, and she was staring at Challe’s retreating figure.

Anne came up alongside Challe and looked up at his face as she walked with him.

“Say, Challe? What was the thing Keith mentioned?”

“Nothing,” he answered curtly and continued staring straight ahead.

When they got back to the room, Anne wiped her body down and changed back into her usual dress.

After that, she immediately started eating.

Mithril downed his dinner in one go and flopped onto the bed. Then he fell fast asleep. The work of harvesting sugar apples was also quite laborious.

Anne had more trouble with her meal. She was so tired, she could hardly swallow. Furthermore, her arms were in terrible pain, and her hands shook whenever she tried raising her spoon to her mouth. Before she had even eaten a third of her stew, she set her spoon down.

That same moment, there was a knock at the door.

Though she was light-headed, she stood, opened the door, and saw Jonas standing there.

“The last face I want to see right now…”

Jonas looked offended. “Well, sorry to bother you. I don’t actually want to see your face, either. But my uncle told me to come by.”

“What for?”

“The sugar apples harvested today are in the warehouse. We’ll start refining them tomorrow, so we’re scheduled to soak them in water overnight tonight. My uncle said that if you really intend to enter the Royal Candy Fair, you should start soaking the sugar apples that you intend to refine into your four barrels of silver sugar.”

Anne’s eyes gleamed. “I can get my allocation of sugar apples?!”

Jonas averted his gaze. “But he also told me that your sugar apples can be confiscated if you don’t do your job properly, so you should be ready to work hard.” Once he said that, Jonas glanced back at Anne’s face. “Can you do it? You look pretty worn out.”

“I’m doing it. Are you trying to get me to say that I don’t want to?”

“Not at all. I’m not… That wasn’t my intention. Anyway, that’s what I came to tell you.”

After he said that, Jonas left.

Anne looked back at Challe from the doorway. “He said they’re dividing up the sugar apples. I’ll be back. If we don’t soak the apples, they won’t be of any use.”

Although Anne was eager to continue, her body was weak. Nonetheless, she left the dormitory and headed for the storehouse.

The sugar apples that were piled up in a huge mound in the warehouse were being carted to the workshop in wheelbarrows and dumped into vats of water.

Anne got her own barrels from her wagon and carried them to a corner of the workshop.

She filled her barrels with water and added handfuls of silver sugar, then borrowed a wheelbarrow and hauled over the sugar apples she needed from the pile in the storehouse.

Load by load, she immersed them in the water.

To make four barrels of silver sugar, ten normal-sized casks would be needed to soak the large load of sugar apples. Anne didn’t have enough barrels of her own, so she borrowed some from the studio.

Her arms hurt, and her work progressed very slowly. On top of that, she frequently felt light-headed, and she had to stop and rest often.

It was the middle of the night when she finished.

Only one lamp remained lit in the huge, deserted workshop.

Under its light, Anne quickly calculated the quantity of sugar apples she had soaking in water. There were just exactly enough for her to refine into four barrels worth of silver sugar.

With these, I can make my silver sugar.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

It was all she could do to remain standing. Thinking she would rest for just a moment, she leaned her back against the wall and sank to the floor. The paved floor was cold, but she couldn’t move. She was in danger of falling asleep right there.

Her eyelids drooped, and her consciousness faded. Then suddenly, her body was floating lightly through the air.

When she forced her eyes open, Challe’s face was there, very close to hers. Her body was swaying back and forth.

She realized he was carrying her in his arms.

“Challe…”

When she spoke his name, he looked down at her.

“Go to sleep.”

“But…I’m heavy.”

“You’re not heavy. Sleep.”

There was nothing to do but follow his instructions. Anne had reached her limit. She closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the pleasant swaying. She felt herself being lowered into bed and a blanket being pulled up over her. It was warm.

And then something cold brushed her eyelids.

Before she realized what it was, Anne was asleep.

Challe pushed Mithril to the side of the bed, lowered Anne into the empty space, and pulled the blanket over her.

Anne’s face was pale; it looked like she’d passed out rather than fallen asleep.

Challe leaned over Anne and kissed her eyelids.

As he did, he prayed that she would sleep soundly.

Then he sat in a chair near the window and listened to Anne’s breaths as she slept for a little while.

Just as he said… It’s best not to tell her.

He looked up at the bright, moonlit night sky.

There’s no need to put any further pressure on her.

He recalled what Keith had mentioned that afternoon.

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

The cold moonlight shone on Challe’s cheek. The wing on his back also caught the light and glowed a bluish white.

“Anne stands out too much. Last year’s candy fair and the incident with the former Duke of Philax have made her the target of a lot of jealousy. She has a reputation as a strong professional rival, though I doubt she is aware of it. I also think that’s why she wasn’t told about the sugar apple situation this year. Most of the candy crafters would like to see her crushed quickly.”

When he said that, Keith had made a stern face, as if he felt angry at the facts he was speaking about.

“If this had been an average year, with everyone obtaining their own sugar apples, there’s no way Anne would have been able to get any. I’m sure she would have faced a great deal of interference, you see. So the shortage this year was actually a blessing in disguise for her. As long as she helps with the collective refining work, she’ll get her sugar apples. But it won’t be like this next year. If she were to try and acquire sugar apples by herself, it’ll be absolutely impossible.”

Challe put his fingers to his forehead and let out a small sigh.

“But if she were to become a Silver Sugar Master, that would be a different story. Silver Sugar Masters are candy crafters who have been recognized by the king. If any common candy crafter attempted to interfere, they would face punishment for it by the Silver Sugar Viscount. That’s why Anne has to become a Silver Sugar Master this year… If she tries to next year, things will be difficult. Despite that—”

Then Keith had gotten an even more serious look in his eye.

“—I don’t intend to go easy on her because of it. And I don’t think she would want me to, either, would she? I know I wouldn’t want a royal medal if I’d only gotten it because someone pulled their punches.”

If Anne made a sculpture that surpassed Keith’s, there would be no problem. She would become a Silver Sugar Master and take one more step toward her future.

But if she didn’t become one, then what?

She wouldn’t be able to say, There’s always next year, as she had the year before.

Putting that kind of pressure on her wouldn’t necessarily bring about a good result. That was probably why Keith had warned Challe just before they parted.

“Keep quiet about it,” he’d said.

Challe looked at Anne’s peaceful sleeping face and resolved never to stand in the way of her future.

Anne stirred and groaned slightly, then clutched her body protectively.

Come to think of it, she was barely able to lift her arms during her meal.

I’ve heard you can soothe pain by cooling the area with a wet cloth.

Cooling and warming the body to heal it was a phenomenon that fairies could not understand. But Challe figured that if doing such a thing would make Anne feel better, he ought to do it. So bucket in hand, he quietly left the room. There was a well near the dormitory that was free for anyone to use.

He lowered the well bucket into the water.

In the moonlight, Challe’s shadow fell on the rim of the well. Someone stood behind him, their shadow overlapping his.

He had been aware of a human presence for quite some time. But the person had no desire to kill him, so he had decided to ignore them.

“…Um—”

A frail female voice called out to him.

Without turning around, Challe pulled up the well bucket and transferred the water into his own.

“Um—”

“Wait a moment. You’ll get your turn soon.”

“I’m not here for water. I’m here for you…”

When she said that, Challe finally turned to face the woman.

She was the same woman who had been handing out the evening meal. He remembered her face because her light golden hair had left an impression. The moment he had seen her hair, it had reminded him of Liz’s when she was older.

“Do you need something?” he asked. Normally, he would have ignored her. It was probably the resemblance that made him respond.

“I’m staying in the main house. Just now, when I looked outside the window, I was surprised to see you had come to draw water… It’s simply cruel.”

Challe didn’t understand what the woman was trying to say.

“Making you work like this in the middle of the night, it’s cruel.”

He wanted to laugh at the woman, gazing up at him so pitifully. She was a fool.

Challe decided that there was no need to engage with her and tried to slip past her.

When he did, the woman seemed flustered and moved to stand in front of him again, blocking his way.

“Wait! If you don’t like working for that Anne girl, I’ll do you a favor and purchase you from her! If you belonged to me, I’d never make you work in the middle of the night like this. I’d never make you work at all. I’d let you live in the best room in the house and give you lots of sugar candy. I’d never tell you to do anything. I’ll do it; I’ll buy you.”

Buy me?

His anger welled up instantly at the woman’s words. She seemed to sense that his mood had changed. She went pale with fear and stepped back.

Challe was smiling. His ruthlessness was showing through his smirk.

He took one step toward the woman and brought his face right up to the tip of her nose.

“You intend to keep me as a pet?” he asked in a low voice.

His voice was sweet, intimate even, and the woman answered him fearfully.

“Well, I…I just thought…I wanted to do something for you.”

“I’m none of your concern.”

Then Challe stepped around the woman and walked away.

He wondered how he would have dealt with her had he never met Anne. He probably would have done something brutal, like lead her on for a while, only to strike her down. That was how infuriating the woman’s words had been. That was how human they had been.

His pace naturally sped up. He wanted to see Anne’s sleeping face immediately.

He wanted to soothe his anger with her presence.

“Empty that pot!”

Every day, Anne continued to skim scum out of the pots with a ladle until she couldn’t raise her arms.

On the sixth day, continuing the same work while dripping with sweat, someone suddenly yelled at her from below the scaffolding.

When she looked down, there was Sammy Jones.

“How long are you gonna keep dawdling as you’re scooping that scum?! The other two pots are already boiling the next batch of apples. Why is this the only one that’s taking so long?!”

Sammy climbed up and looked down into the pot Anne had been skimming.

“That’s plenty clean. Dump this pot and boil a new batch.”

“But if we don’t take out all the green foam, the flavor of the finished product will be a little bitter.”

“Only a little!”

Sammy wrenched the ladle out of Anne’s hands and shoved her shoulder. Anne staggered and missed her footing.

Before she even had time to be startled, she fell backward onto the dirt floor. She landed hard on her backside and grimaced.

“What’s a little bitterness? When you’re making such a huge quantity, the quality of each pot of silver sugar varies. We’re mixing them together, so for better or for worse, once they’re combined, it all evens out. No one will ever notice such a thing.”

The workers around them laughed, like they agreed with Sammy.

Quarreling was no good. She couldn’t afford to cause trouble with the other candy crafters. Not going against the grain was best. Despite being fully aware of that, Anne couldn’t keep quiet.

“But even so, if the quality of every pot drops, then won’t the final product be affected once we combine them? In that case, if we raise the quality of every pot, even just a little bit, the whole batch will turn out better. It’s not wasted effort.”

“Listen, that’s not what I’m talking about here. And anyway, this year’s silver sugar is just a mass-produced product. What’s the point of being hung up on the quality of stuff like that?”

What’s the point?

She felt a surge of anger.

So that means that all of next year’s sugar candy will be made from silver sugar that is ‘just a mass-produced product’? And people who buy sugar candy for important events will be buying candy made from ‘stuff like that’? Even the sugar candy for important days that come only once in a lifetime?

Still sitting where she had fallen, Anne balled up her fists on the floor.

Just then, Jonas passed by her with a flat stone vessel in his hands.

“You shouldn’t say too much; just be quiet,” he muttered.

Anne glared sternly at Jonas. “If I could make good silver sugar by staying silent, I would do so!”

Anne expected a nasty response from him, so she was surprised when Jonas clammed up. He looked away awkwardly.

Anne half rose to her feet. She wasn’t done hounding Sammy, even though he had turned his back to her.

As she stood, someone smoothly held their hand out to block her from going after him.

“Aren’t you due for a break soon, Anne? I’m on break, too, so let’s go together.”

Keith was smiling sweetly as he looked down at her.

“Keith. But…!”

He took Anne’s hand and helped her stand, then led her out of the workshop, tugging at her hand as they went.

“Keith, wait. If we don’t do something, the silver sugar will—!”

When they emerged into the garden, Keith finally let go of her. When Anne immediately tried to head straight back into the workhouse, he gently grasped her shoulders and tried to pacify her.

“Calm down, Anne. It’s all right. Mr. Hingley and Mr. Collins are supervising. They noticed that the quality of the finished product has been dropping a long time ago. And they’ve already determined the cause. Very shortly, everyone involved with working the stoves is going to get some strict teaching. There’s no need for you to volunteer for the thankless job.”

“Is that so?”

She turned around, and Keith nodded reassuringly. That knocked the wind out of her sails.

When he saw her listless face, Keith chuckled.

“You’re at your absolute limit, aren’t you? You seem like you’ve got tunnel vision.”

When he pointed that out, her shoulders suddenly felt heavy from exhaustion.

Anne sighed and sat under one of the trees in the courtyard.

“I see… So Kat has already noticed. Of course he has… Thank goodness. I must look like a fool, getting so worked up like this.”

The past six days of hard labor had been wearing her down.

Plus, she still had to refine her own silver sugar after work. She’d been getting only two or three hours of sleep every night.

Never before had Anne been made so aware of the power and stamina men possessed. They easily performed tasks that Anne just barely completed. She couldn’t help but wonder if the main reason there weren’t more women in the world of candy crafters was because of this difference in stamina, rather than a matter of religion.

But she did complete the same workload as the men, no matter how much her body hurt.

She also loathed cutting corners.

It had taken Kat’s intervention for her to be allowed to participate at all. Otherwise, the workshop would have rejected her. If the quality or quantity of her work lagged behind that of the other crafters now, his help would have been wasted.

Out of stubbornness, she refused to let the quality of her work slip. She had been wringing every last bit of strength out of her body, so she couldn’t possibly keep an eye on the behavior of everyone else around her.

Keith sat next to Anne. He tore a leaf off a weed and rolled it between his fingers.

“It’s nothing to worry about. That was bound to happen. You’re a girl; you can’t do anything about the difference in your physical strength. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. As long as you do everything you can to the best of your abilities, you’ll be fine. I mean, even Master Radcliffe isn’t likely to take back your sugar apples, right? He can be strict, but he sees you working hard. Anyway, how’s it going? Have you finished refining your apples?”

“Mm-hmm. Just last night, I somehow finished making four barrels of silver sugar.”

That was the one thing she knew she had done perfectly over the past six days.

But during the whole process, she had hardly had a moment to relax, day or night. She’d barely even had time to speak with Challe or Mithril.

“Guess you’ll move on to making your sugar candy sculpture tonight. I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of thing you make. Between me and you, I wonder which one of us will make the best sculpture?”

Anne felt Keith’s kind smile had just the slightest sense of challenge.

He seemed to be very self-assured. That was why he was able to look forward to their contest.

Anne envied that confidence.

She was totally exhausted just from refining silver sugar and hadn’t even thought about her sculpture. She had absolutely no idea what she ought to start making.

But of course, there was something that she wanted to make.

Anne wanted to try sculpting Challe, just as he was, out of candy.

When Challe’s beautiful face came to mind, she thought about how happy it would make her to be able to re-create him in silver sugar. To reproduce his form with her own fingers would be like touching his hair, wings, cheeks, and so on.

But Keith was already using Challe as a model to create his sugar candy piece. She wasn’t sure she could win against Keith if they sculpted the same thing.

“Keith, why did you have the idea of using Challe as a model?”

Anne wanted to make Challe out of sugar candy because of the affection she felt for him.

A prudent-looking guy like Keith didn’t seem likely to choose his model on a whim just because he was beautiful.

“Oh, that’s easy. It’s because he’s a fairy. Moreover, he’s exceptionally beautiful, and very strong, to boot. He’s the ideal motif to charm the hearts of the royal family. I knew he was the one the moment I saw him.”

“Because he’s a fairy?”

“That’s right. The members of the royal family tend to prefer candy sculptures with fairy motifs.”

“You sure know a lot about such things. Is it a famous story or something?”

“It’s relatively well-known. If you go to the main branch of the state church, the Church of Saint Lewiston Bell, they have books and stuff about the royal family and their sugar candy. Oh yeah, say, while we’re on break, do you want to see my sculpture? It’s still a work in progress, of course.”

“I can see it?”

“Only because you’re close with Challe. I want you to judge if I’ve captured his essence properly. Come on.”

Keith tossed aside the leaf in his hand, then stood and pulled Anne to her feet.

Keith’s room was built the same as Anne’s, but the furniture and bedding were a bit more luxurious. Furthermore, everything was neat and tidy. His disposition was immediately apparent from the way he kept his room.

“Here it is. What do you think?”

The sculpture was sitting on top of the table, covered in a cloth to protect it. Keith pulled it off and urged Anne to take in his work.

“…Ah…lovely…”

It was about half as tall as Anne. Probably the largest size that was fitting for a celebratory sugar candy sculpture.

Atop a pedestal rendered to look like grass being blown by the wind, a fairy with an elegant figure was patiently crouched down on one hand and one knee, posed as if he was hunting something. On his back was one silver-gray wing.

The details of his facial features and hair were not yet complete. But his overall presence, strength, and grace came through perfectly well.

He just needs to add Challe’s hair, eyelashes, and eyes. If those details are sculpted precisely…

When she imagined the finished product, she felt her heart flutter and her breath catch in her throat.

Incredible.

She wondered whether she would ever be able to produce such a result even if she did use Challe as a model, as Keith had. It seemed like it was probably within her abilities. But if there were two sculptures with similar workmanship, they would distract from each other, and both would be at a disadvantage in the contest.

It wouldn’t be wise for Anne to use Challe as a motif for her own sculpture.

So then what should I make? Challe is all I feel like sculpting right now.

Suddenly, she was bursting with impatience.

She didn’t have that much time. She had spent six days refining her silver sugar. There were just barely twenty days left before the Royal Candy Fair. Furthermore, at most, Anne had a few hours each night to work on her sculpture.

“How is it?” Keith asked from the window.

Anne kept her impatience in check and smiled.

“Yeah, it’s amazing,” she replied. “You’ve really captured Challe’s presence.”

“I’m so happy to hear you say that. I’m relieved. I’m trying to reproduce his appearance perfectly, after all.”

Just then, Keith made a startled expression and looked out the window. “Hey, isn’t that Challe?”

During the day while Anne and Keith were working, Challe usually spent his time alone in Anne’s room. It was unusual to see him walking about during the day.

“Huh? But I would expect Challe to be in the room around this time.”

As she said that, Anne approached the window where Keith was standing. From the window, they could see the rear garden and the back door of the dormitory that faced the other direction.

Sure enough, Challe was there. As well as one other person. A beautiful blond woman was standing with him underneath one of the trees in the garden. They seemed to be talking about something.

“Is that Bridget?”

Anne was surprised to see someone she wouldn’t have expected speaking with Challe. Then as they watched, Bridget suddenly embraced Challe.

Anne’s heart ached at the sight. For some reason, she got flustered and averted her eyes.

What was that?

Her heart was pounding loudly.

Keith leaned forward. He looked very interested.

In a panic, Anne tugged at his arm.

“Keith—it’s wrong! Don’t watch!”

“Oh? You think so?”

“Yes! Come on, let’s go back. If we slack off too much, Kat will yell at us.”

“Ah, you’re right.”

When she said that, Keith turned away from the window.

Anne felt terribly confused, even as she returned to the workshop with Keith.

Why were the two of them together? When did they become close? …No, I can’t think about such things. Not when I have a sculpture to make.

Bridget’s beautiful golden hair flashed through her mind.

Challe did say…that Liz had pretty blond hair…

Suddenly, she felt like crying.

Anne had never imagined that he would ever like her back or that he would want to be her boyfriend or anything weird like that. But seeing him together with a beautiful blond girl made her chest hurt, as if it were a cloth being wrung out to dry. There was nothing she could do to stop the pain.

I mustn’t. I mustn’t think about it. I have to make my candy. But I can’t even decide what I should make.

Anne’s pace had slowed, so that by the time she emerged into the courtyard, a considerable distance had opened between her and Keith, who was walking in front of her. Keith noticed and rushed back to her.

“Anne, what’s the matter?”

Keith peered at her face, looking concerned.

“Ah, never mind. It’s nothing.”

She lifted her head and forced a smile.

When she did, Keith suddenly clapped his hands right in front of her face. She opened her eyes wide in surprise at the sound and the vibration of the air, and Keith grinned.

“Let’s go! Hurry! We’ve got work!”

Keith grabbed Anne’s hand and took off running, pulling her along with him. She could barely keep up and had to struggle not to fall while sprinting at full speed.

As soon as she started running, she realized it felt nice to be flying along.

They dashed to the workhouse in one long sprint.

Keith came to a stop, so Anne did, too.

As she got her breathing under control, Anne smiled a little. “You don’t go easy on people, do you? I thought I was gonna fall over.”

“But you didn’t. We are going to work. If something’s worrying you, it’s best to run off and leave it behind.”

Keith let go of Anne’s hand and lightly placed his hands on both her shoulders. “But even if you leave your worries behind, they have a tendency to come back at some point. If you don’t mind talking to me, I can listen to whatever you have to say, though I don’t know whether I can offer any advice. So concentrate on your work and make something good. Compete with me. Okay?”

Anne could feel the sincerity in his words as he looked down at her kindly. Her emotions settled down quickly.

“Thank you, Keith.”

Cathy was the one who came to summon Challe.

She said that someone from the main house had to speak with him about Anne and that he should come out the back door of the dormitory. Challe thought about ignoring her, but he was curious because she said it had something to do with Anne.

He reluctantly left the room. When he passed Keith’s room, he could sense the presence of people inside and hear Keith’s voice. He figured the crafter must be on a break and didn’t pay it any particular mind.

When he stepped out the back door, Bridget was waiting there under the eaves. As soon as she saw Challe, she rushed over to him. He stood opposite her, beneath one of the garden’s trees.

“I’m sorry. I’m the one who asked Cathy to bring you.”

Challe was fed up with her. He tried turning his back to her, but Bridget grabbed his arm.

“I was mistaken earlier,” she said. “That girl does not own you at all, does she? I heard everything from Cathy. I want to apologize for saying I would buy you.”

“You don’t need to apologize. Just let go of me.”

“You must be angry, yes?”

Challe was not angry. He was simply irritated.

“Let go.”

Bridget was earnest. She gazed at Challe with tears in her eyes. “Listen. I’ve got a fiancé. My family set up our engagement, and I obediently followed their wishes. After all, there was no one else who I liked. I didn’t even really understand the feeling of love. But now I… When I first saw you, I was very… My heart leaped in my chest. And I didn’t know what I should do about it. I understood for the first time that this is the sensation known as love. I am in love with you. Really, I am.”

As she said that, Bridget, overcome with emotion, suddenly launched herself at Challe’s chest and embraced him. “If you’re a free fairy, then that means you can do anything you choose to do, right?” she asked.

Challe looked down at her with cold eyes. “So what of it? You want me to accept your feelings and kiss you or something? Would you have approached me like this if I were a human?”

“…Huh?”

Bridget wore an expression of confusion, as if she didn’t understand his words. The fact that she didn’t get it, even when he said so much, showed that she was human to her core.

“What were you expecting by summoning me and telling me you love me? Suppose the object of your love was Keith Powell or Alph Hingley—would you have done the same?”

“I wouldn’t do such a thing with either of them. It would be embarrassing. And if they rejected me, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself afterward. But because it’s you…”

“Because I’m a fairy, it’s not embarrassing? Nothing weird about buying a pet fairy, is there?”

“Ah…no, that’s not what I meant—”

“If you want me, steal my wing and give me an order. Command me to love you.”

He pushed Bridget away, turned on his heel, and left.

Unable to suppress his irritation, he didn’t feel like returning to the room.

Humans are…stubbornly human.

Challe turned around at the dormitory and entered the rear courtyard. When he rounded the corner, he noticed human figures cutting straight across the middle of the courtyard.

They were Anne and Keith. Anne was running as fast as she could, and Keith was pulling her along by the hand. Then when they reached the workshop, Anne looked up at Keith as she was catching her breath. Keith said something to her in reply and placed his hands on her shoulders.

Anne smiled happily. It was a lighthearted smile.

The two looked innocent and carefree with the bright, clear afternoon light shining down on them. Keith had walked a clean, unsullied path in life, and thus possessed a noble spirit. Anne’s radiant smile as she gazed up at such a man pricked at Challe’s heart.

Challe tended to think of Anne as someone separate from the rest of the human race. But Anne was undoubtedly human, and it was likely more natural for them to find companions among their own kind.

It was probably odd for Anne to spend all her time with Challe and Mithril.

For Anne, happiness most likely meant being among humans like this. It meant living as a candy crafter together with people such as Keith and Hugh.

But as soon as Challe imagined handing her over to the likes of Hugh or Keith, he grew aggravated.

Why?

With Liz, he had hoped, from the bottom of his heart, to one day entrust her to a worthy human, one who could take care of her and make her happy. Her happiness had been his only concern.

So why, he wondered, did he feel irritated when he thought about leaving Anne to another human, even when there were ones who would be able to make her happy? He was behaving just like a human child. Not thinking of the future or of the happiness of the one he valued, but just throwing a tantrum because he didn’t want to let her go. Even though she would likely weaken and die someday if he held tight on to her.

He wondered why he only felt these selfish feelings toward Anne.

I don’t want to let her go. Not ever…

The thoughts swirled around and around inside Challe’s mind. He wondered if perhaps he was simply afraid of being alone.

But he had a feeling that wasn’t quite right.