Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 3 - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

MAKING EVERYTHING FAIR

It felt exactly like touching Challe’s wing.

Anne had tried to re-create the feel and colors of his wing. It felt natural, like she was really caressing it.

But the sensation gave her much more of a chill than she had anticipated. She even felt something like a shiver down her back. It was almost sensual. She was filled with joy at the feeling of the lumps of silver sugar as she kneaded them one by one between her fingertips.

Once she started, Anne found that she couldn’t stop making them. It was like she was searching for something in the work. Searching, maybe, for a way to realize an impossible world. To realize her desire for fairies and humans to coexist. To narrow, even slightly, the gulf between Challe and humankind.

Including white, Anne kneaded five hundred and one colors of silver sugar. She lined them up on the workbench in twos and threes and looked for color harmonies. Once she had formed harmonious combinations, she mixed them to create the gradations. It was easy to do with two, but when she was mixing three or four colors, she had to pay careful attention to preserve the shading.

She felt a tingling sensation in the back of her head as she continued her work. But even so, she couldn’t stop.

The following day, she would begin the work of refining silver sugar once more.

Her body was always exhausted by the time she finished her day tasks. But when she finished her evening meal and touched her silver sugar, the urge to create was so strong that she forgot her weariness.

She only slept three hours a night, and it was more like blacking out.

As soon as the sun was up, she went to work refining silver sugar, and once the day ended, she worked on her candy sculpture.

Every night, Anne took pleasure in shaping the silver sugar to resemble fairy wings.

She’d created an astonishing number of lumps of color-gradient silver sugar. She kneaded each of them even more. Without losing any luster or damaging the colors, she stretched each one into a thin film. Just like a fairy’s wing.

She cut shapes out of each piece of winglike silver sugar, twisted it in her fingers, and attached it to the others.

It wasn’t a rational decision that led her to continue working her exhausted body with such intense concentration. The pure urge to create was what drove her.

Almost ten days had passed since Anne’s visit to the Church of Saint Lewiston Bell.

Keith had completed his sculpture for the Royal Candy Fair. The evening he finished it, Challe was dismissed from his service.

All the crafters who aspired to enter the candy fair, with the exception of Anne, had now completed their pieces. But Challe was not worried. Anne’s work had been progressing at tremendous speed.

Her ability to concentrate was frankly astonishing.

Challe expected her sculpture would be finished in the next day or two.

At any rate, now that he had been relieved of his job, he would no longer have to deal with being summoned to Keith’s room every night.

He left Keith’s room, feeling relieved.

“‘I can’t do it’ or ‘It’s impossible,’ that’s all anyone ever says to me. That goes for you, too, Elliott. Nothing but impossible or unreasonable. You say that you love me, but all you ever tell me is that I can’t do it, that there’s no way.”

The moment Challe stepped out into the corridor, he could hear a woman speaking, seething with barely contained anger. He could tell she was very agitated. Her voice was getting gradually louder. It was coming from Elliott Collins’s room. And the owner of the voice seemed to be that woman from before, Bridget or whatever her name was.

“Now look— Impossible things are impossible, honey—”

“Everyone always says that, but that’s a lie… I mean, that Anne girl gets treated like a proper candy crafter!”

“Huh? Why are you bringing something like that up? Weren’t we just talking about that fairy?”

“You and your father, and everyone else at the studio, always told me, ‘It’s impossible for a girl’ and ‘You can’t do it’ and ‘No girls allowed’ when I said I wanted to make sugar candy. You made me give up. And yet…and yet that girl is a proper candy crafter. It was a lie to say that girls can’t do it. I’m tired of it; I never want to hear it again. And I’m not giving up on what I want!” Bridget shouted in a tearful voice, as if she could not hold her emotions in any longer.

“Come on, Bridget. Won’t you calm down a little bit?”

Elliott continued to talk to her in a soothing tone, but he sounded distressed.

Challe had unconsciously come to a stop in front of Elliott’s room, and behind him, the door to another room opened.

“They’re a real earsore, geez. Always grumblin’ and gripin’. They’re like wailin’ banshees! It’s depressing.”

Kat stepped out with an extremely sour look on his face. He looked surprised to see Challe standing there.

“Oh, it’s you, Challe. Miserable hysterics over there, huh?” Kat stepped up next to the fairy. “I can hardly believe that guy Elliott got himself a girl like her for a fiancée,” Kat said and snorted with his arms crossed.

Then he glanced over at Challe. “Sounds like that young lady’s infatuated with ya. She was buggin’ him to buy ya. But since she found out ya weren’t for sale, she’s been trying to make him steal yer wing from somebody. Be careful out there.”

“He’s not that great of a fool.”

“Well, yer probably right about that. But I bet that little lady wants you for her pleasure, no matter what it costs. You can never be too careful.”

Kat was wearing an expression of concern. Challe looked at him and sneered.

“I’ll be careful. To thank you for your concern, I’ll go find you some catnip.”

Kat’s eyebrows shot up as soon as he said it.

“Hey! Listen, ya bastard! Didn’t I tell ya to lay off?!”

Fuming, Kat stomped back into his room and slammed the door behind him.

Snickering to himself, Challe went back to his room, where Anne was still working on her sculpture.

Four days after that, Anne completed her entry.

The opening of the Royal Candy Fair was only three days away.

Somehow, I made it.

Anne felt a huge sense of relief.

But she did feel a little disappointed that she would no longer be experiencing that texture. She almost regretted having finished it. She had wanted to make more.

This was the first time Anne had felt such an emotion.

She spent her day scooping scum from the huge cauldrons, wiping sweat from her brow. She was fine as long as she kept working. But during her break, when she sat at the foot of one of the trees in the rear courtyard, the feeling of lethargy that came after having completed her sculpture made Anne space out.

She was staring up at the high, clear autumn sky.

“Anne? You want a drink?”

Keith, who was sitting next to her, was taking his break at the same time. He handed her a cup filled with cold water. She accepted it without a word, and Keith tilted his head slightly in puzzlement.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “You seem kind of down.”

“Ah…sorry. Thanks. I just kind of drifted off. Last night, I finished my sculpture, so…”

“You did?! Really?!”

Keith leaned forward with excitement. Anne was surprised by his enthusiasm.

“Uh, yeah. It’s done.”

“That’s great! You made it in time, huh? The Royal Candy Fair is the day after tomorrow. Actually, I was a little worried about you.” Keith smiled with apparent relief.

“You were worried about me?” Anne asked.

“Kind of. But you would have hated it if I kept questioning whether it was done yet, right? I’ve been restraining myself from asking. Now I can have a real competition with you, can’t I?”

“Is it really finished?”

Suddenly, there was a voice from the opposite side of the tree trunk that Anne was leaning against. Anne turned to look and was surprised to see Marcus Radcliffe looking down at them.

Marcus was always hurrying back and forth between the workshop and the main house. He seemed to have overheard Anne and Keith’s conversation on one of his trips and come to a stop.

“You’ve completed your sculpture, Halford?” Marcus asked again.

“Yes.” Anne nodded confidently.

“I’m giving all those who wish to participate in the Royal Candy Fair a holiday the day after tomorrow to coincide with the opening of the fair. I’ll confirm that you have indeed completed a sculpture and then grant you the day off. I’ll go check it now. All right?”

“That’s fine. Please check it.” Anne bowed.

Keith added, “Well then, Marcus, please check my work as well.”

“You’re finished, too?” Marcus looked surprised.

“Yes. As of four days ago.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? You never announced that you were finished with your sculpture, so there’s been a rumor going around the whole studio that you might have given up on entering. Surely, there’s no way you didn’t know about it?”

“I just failed to report it, that’s all.”

Anne looked at Keith’s face as he nonchalantly answered the question, and it seemed to her that he had perhaps been waiting until she finished her entry piece.

Supposing Anne alone had dawdled and worked until the last minute, Marcus probably would have pestered her, asking whether it was ready yet, and criticized her for being slow. On the other hand, Marcus seemed to have faith in Keith. Even if he dawdled just like Anne, Marcus would likely never press him or criticize him. Because he trusted the young man.

For Anne’s sake, Keith had also waited until the last minute to announce the completion of his candy sculpture.

There was a hint of challenge behind Keith’s smile, as if he was questioning which of them had made the best candy.

He seemed like he wanted to compete on a level playing field based purely on the quality of their sculptures.

That was how noble he was.

“Well then, I’m going to check. Come with me. Before we go, get permission from Supervisor Hingley to take off work.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bowing slightly, the two of them headed for the workshop.

Somehow, Anne caught ahold of Kat’s sleeve as he walked around.

“Kat! Keith and I are going to take off work for a little bit. On Master Radcliffe’s instructions.”

“Huh? How could you when we’re this damn busy?!”

“Both of us have completed our sculptures for the Royal Candy Fair,” Keith replied. “Master Radcliffe is going to check them.”

When Keith said that, Sammy, who was working nearby, raised his head. He looked over at them cunningly.

Kat waved his hand as if to drive them away. “Well, nothin’ to be done about that! Finish up quick and get back here.”

Anne and Keith hurried out of the workshop.

Marcus was waiting out front.

“Shall we go?”

Just as Marcus said that—

“Marcus!”

—Sammy came rushing out of the building.

“Please take me with you as well. I want to get to see Keith’s sculpture. I’m entering this year’s Royal Candy Fair, too, but I know I’m no match for him. So I want to take a look at his work for next year. If Keith’s sculpture wins the royal medal, I’ll never get another chance to view it from close-up, right? So before that happens, please…”

He bowed enthusiastically.

“You’re quite keen, Sammy. All right, come along.”

“Thank you.”

Sammy glanced at Anne, and she got a bad feeling from his unkind gaze.

Anne took her place beside Keith and brought Marcus and Sammy to the dormitory. Keith’s room was closer to the stairwell. He took the lead and opened the door to his room.

“Please start by checking mine first. Come on in.”

Keith showed the three of them inside and approached a table that was in the center of the room. On it sat a sugar candy sculpture, covered with a white cloth.

“This is it.”

Without any fanfare, Keith smoothly removed the cloth.

“Oh…!” Marcus quietly exclaimed despite himself.

A pedestal made to look like a meadow, covered with blades of grass as sharp as swords. On top of it, a fairy crouched down low on a bent knee, staring intently off into the distance.

A graceful body, and a silver wing stretched taut with tension. The pale face was handsome, but the black eyes held a strong will and were fixed stoically on a single point.

Challe’s aura and appearance were contained in the sculpture just as they existed in real life. It was a perfect reproduction.

“Incredible…”

Sammy, too, murmured his reaction.

“Have you seen enough?”

“Mm. Well done.” Marcus nodded deeply. “Great job, Keith. It’s perfect.”

“Thank you.”

Anne had been worried about how her own sculpture would compare to Keith’s work, but her anxiety had abated. She knew that she had made the thing she most wanted to make. And while she was creating it, she had felt the happiest she had ever been.

Even if she were to lose to Keith now, she felt she would be able to give up gracefully.

Even if I lose, that doesn’t mean my future as a candy crafter is over.

“All right, next. Halford?”

Marcus urged them on, and Anne led the three men to her room.

When she opened the door, Challe looked in their direction from where he was sitting by the window.

“Sorry, Challe,” Anne said. “My candy sculpture needs to be inspected. Can we come in?”

“Sure,” he replied, then turned his gaze back to the window.

Just like in Keith’s room, there was a sugar candy sculpture sitting on a table in the middle of the room, covered with a white cloth.

Marcus and the rest of the crowd entered. Marcus recognized Challe by the window and mumbled in astonishment, “So this was Keith’s model, huh…? I see. The real thing is even more incredible.”

Anne approached the table and bowed to Marcus.

“Please perform your inspection.”

She removed the cloth.

The moment he saw her sculpture, Marcus’s eyes bulged.

“Ah.” Keith made a small exclamation.

Sammy just stared, open-mouthed.

In front of them, stretching up from a polished white pedestal, were climbing rose vines, intertwined with one another. The vines stretched upward, each supporting the other, like hands reaching for the sky.

Roses bloomed in all directions.

Every blossom was made of fairy wings, as were the vines themselves. Every component, the leaves, vines, thorns, and petals—not one of them was the same color as any other. All of them combined subtly different shades, shifting into a gradation. Within a single petal, leaf, or thorn, two to four colors melted into one another.

Overall, it gave an appearance of strange harmony. It was like a vision in a dream. Like a fleeting one that could never be touched had taken form and appeared before them.

Anne had tried to make a candy sculpture that the royal family would appreciate. At the same time, she made something that she herself had wanted to make.

The climbing rose vine was the emblematic flower of the royal family. By presenting it as a creation using fairies’ wings, she was expressing the wishes of the Ancestor King and the Fairy King. And their desire was Anne’s wish, too.

“Um, is this all right?” Anne asked Marcus timidly, growing concerned because no one had said anything.

When she asked, Marcus nodded, seeming startled.

“W-well done. Halford… Very… Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Anne bowed, and Marcus and Sammy left the room. She quickly covered her sculpture with the cloth and told Challe that she would be right back, before following Keith out of the room.

Marcus, who was walking ahead of them, was silent.

Sammy lagged a bit behind Marcus but remained in front of Keith and Anne as they walked.

“…It’s great,” Keith mumbled. He was smiling, with a slightly anxious, conflicted expression. “Your sculpture—it’s really amazing.”

When he said that, Sammy turned around suddenly. “Don’t even go there, Keith! Lay off the modesty! Your candy sculpture is even better, isn’t it? There’s no way the most skilled guy here is gonna lose to a girl like this. If you lose to her, you’ll bring shame to the Radcliffe Workshop!”

“I have confidence in my own skills. I think I’ve made something good and that it might even be perfect. But…when I saw Anne’s sculpture—I wonder why this is?—I got anxious. Even though I’m sure I made something amazing.”

Keith smiled bitterly and shrugged. “Let’s put a stop to this conversation. His Majesty is the one who will choose the candy sculpture. Let’s all respect the decision that His Majesty will soon make in a fair setting. That is my greatest wish.”

Sammy kept silent after that, but there was a dark rage dwelling in his eyes.

Keith said that my sculpture was great.

That made Anne happier than anything.

She finished her work for the day and, feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time, ate dinner together with Challe and Mithril.

“Don’t grin like that. It makes your weird face look even weirder,” Challe said bluntly with his salted fish and soup sitting in front of him.

“Huh? Was I grinning?”

“So much so that the straw in your head was showing.”

Mithril glared slightly at Challe for his cruel comment and said, “Challe Fenn Challe. I am always cautioning you about this, aren’t I? It’s not always good to tell the truth.”

That, too, was quite a cruel comment.

“Listen, I was just happy, so I… Sorry, was I being weird?”

“What’s making you so happy?” Mithril asked as he held his hand over his soup.

“Keith saw my sugar candy sculpture, and he praised it. I’m really happy to get compliments from someone as skilled as him.”

When she said that, Challe made a sullen face.

“Anyway, stop grinning, scarecrow.”

“It’s Anne, thanks… And what’s the matter with you all of a sudden, Challe? You said you were going to make an effort to call me by my name. You haven’t called me a scarecrow these past six months, but…”

“I called you what I wanted to call you,” Challe proclaimed flatly.

He finished his meal and moved to the chair beside the window.

Without any idea why he was in a foul mood, Anne could only tilt her head in puzzlement.

Is my smile really that off-putting?

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

When Anne stood from her seat and opened the door, Jonas was there. Cathy was sitting on his shoulder, facing away from Anne standoffishly.

“Do you need something?”

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise. I ran into Sammy, and he asked me to come. He said my uncle is asking for you and to escort you to the workshop.”

“I understand. I’ll go once I’ve finished my dinner.”

“He said it was an urgent and important matter. I was told to bring you with me right away. Come on, let’s go.”

“Okay, okay. All right, you two, I’m going out for a bit.”

Reluctantly, Anne followed Jonas out of the room.

The workshop was deserted that evening. They hadn’t harvested any sugar apples that day, so there was no work to be done overnight.

There was just one small stove with a fire burning in it at the back of the workshop.

It was the same size as one would find in a home kitchen, and it was probably used to make individual batches of silver sugar. There were seven of them lined up in a row, but only one was burning bright red, full of fire.

In the gloomy expanse of the dark workshop, illuminated by the swaying flames, were the figures of several people.

Jonas headed toward them with Anne in tow.

“Uncle? I’ve brought Anne Halford.”

When he called out, the people standing around the stove all burst out laughing in unison.

“Sorry, sorry, Jonas. Marcus isn’t here.”

“Huh?”

Jonas was stunned.

Several of the people there quickly surrounded Anne. Two of them seized both her arms and forced them behind her back.

“What?!”

Anne struggled in surprise as they dragged her over to the front of the stove.

From the light of the fire, she could see the faces of those around her. She saw six faces she recognized from the Weather Vane the year before, with Sammy as their leader.

“What the hell is this?” Jonas asked fearfully.

Sammy stepped forward.

“Jonas, come on, don’t you think it’s unfair? It’s a done deal; she’s going to win the royal medal at the Royal Candy Fair the day after tomorrow and become a Silver Sugar Master.”

“Huh? What’s a done deal? We don’t know any of that yet. We still have Keith, after all.”

“I think it’s a given. She’s got the Silver Sugar Viscount wrapped around her finger. Keith’s sculpture is just as good as hers, but she’s going to win the royal medal, being that the Viscount favors her. Wouldn’t something like that be unfortunate for Keith? No one else is in the running but him—not me, or you, or any of these other guys. We all know that. He’s different; he comes from good stock. But if Keith loses, that will bring shame to the Radcliffe Workshop.”

“What are you talking about?! His Majesty is the one who chooses the winning sculpture, not the Silver Sugar Viscount!” Anne shouted, incensed by his absurd claim.

“But surely, if His Majesty is uncertain, he will listen to the counsel of the Silver Sugar Viscount. If he does that, Keith’s at a disadvantage. It isn’t fair. So it’s up to us to make sure that the Royal Candy Fair is held fairly.”

“Fairly?”

Sammy approached the bewildered Jonas, put his arm around his shoulders, and whispered enticingly, “You’ve got a grudge against this girl, don’t you? Shove both her hands into the fire. A nice, slow count to thirty ought to do it. If you do that, her hands will become useless.”

Anne was shocked. The blood drained from her face, and her legs began trembling.

She remembered something she’d heard from Emma long ago.

Up until just fifty years earlier, whenever a crafter who belonged to a faction was expelled, they would be punished by having both their hands burned so that they could never do detailed work again. They could never call themselves a candy crafter.

Such a barbaric custom had died out some time ago. But like a ghastly bedtime story, apprentices heard the tales from older crafters.

“But that’s— I do hate Anne, but not badly enough to do something like this. Let’s find another way…”

“Jonas. Don’t you think this is a responsibility we ought to bear as candy crafters? This girl made a mockery of the sacred Royal Candy Fair last year, and she’s going to do it again this year. If she’s not around, the competition can be held fairly. It’s our duty! Our duty.”

“That’s outrageous! Why should Master Jonas have to do such a thing?! You all can just do it yourselves, right, Master Jonas?!” Standing atop Jonas’s shoulder, Cathy glared at them and shouted.

“Shut up, fairy. Hey, Jonas. You’re Marcus’s nephew, right? Haven’t you got an obligation to protect the good name of the Radcliffe Workshop? Marcus will praise you for taking care of this, I’m sure of it.”

“B-but I—”

A cold sweat broke out on Jonas’s forehead. He glanced around restlessly, his eyes darting here and there looking for help from anyone.

“Are you that much of a coward, Jonas? Defend our honor!”

“Why me?!”

“Because it’s your responsibility— Do it!” Sammy shouted, close to his ear.

Jonas covered his ears and shrieked, “I won’t! Something like that… I’m afraid! Can’t you guys just do it?!”

“Coward!”

“I’m afraid!”

Jonas shoved Sammy away and broke into a run. Without looking behind him, he ran straight through the workshop and disappeared into the darkness outside.

Sammy clicked his tongue and approached Anne. “Can’t be helped. Guess I’m doing it. We won’t be satisfied unless Keith wins for us, after all.”

“You keep saying Keith, Keith! Do you think he will be happy if he wins like this?!”

“It doesn’t matter whether he’s happy or not. We can’t allow a member of the Radcliffe Workshop, and the son of the former Silver Sugar Viscount, to lose to some nobody like you. It would bring shame to our faction. This place has taken care of me for over ten years, since I was twelve years old. Do you think I could stay silent while that same Radcliffe Workshop was made a fool of?!”

The men behind Anne pushed down on her shoulders and forced her to kneel in front of the stove.

The coals burned bright red. The heat of the flames blasted her face. She felt like her whole body had been pierced by something icy cold. Terror welled up inside her in response to the impending violence. Her whole body began to shake.

Sammy grabbed hold of Anne’s elbows.