Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 3 - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

MISGIVINGS

“Say, Challe Fenn Challe… Answer me this. It’s a serious matter.”

Mithril’s expression was grave. He hopped up onto the windowsill, where Challe was resting his chin in his hand.

“What is it?”

“If a girl told you she liked you and asked for a kiss, are you the type who would gladly give it to her?”

“……”

“Challe Fenn Challe? Whoooaaa—?!”

Mithril was suddenly flung onto the bed, where after bouncing two or three times from the momentum, he popped right back up.

“What’d you do that for?!”

“I never want to hear about your ‘serious matters’ again!”

Suddenly, they heard wild footsteps running up the dormitory stairs. A moment later, the door to Anne’s room slammed open.

“A-Anne!!”

Jonas was standing in the doorway. He was shaking badly enough that it was visible even from a distance, and his complexion was terribly pale. His face wrinkled in distress, and tears flowed down his cheeks in steady streams.

“Anne is getting her hands burned in the workshop!! Help—help her!!” he shouted, then fell to his knees on the spot.

Jonas had hardly finished his words before Challe took off running. Mithril, too, jumped up and leaped through the air, passing Jonas’s head.

As Challe left, he heard Jonas, who was slumped down in the hallway with both hands covering his face. “Please help, I’m sorry. Help… They didn’t have to go that far… Dammit…,” he sobbed.

“It’s all right, Master Jonas…” Cathy got down and stood on the floor, then gently stroked Jonas’s knee.

As he ran, Challe opened his right hand slightly. He focused his energy there. Even in the darkness of night, this produced glittering beads of light. They crystallized into a sword.

Hefting his blade, Challe crossed the rear courtyard in a single bound.

When he burst into the workshop, he caught sight of the glow from the stove at the back. As well as the figure of a person kneeling in front of it.

An indescribable rage rose from the core of his body.

“Filthy humans…!”

The crafters standing around the stove seemed to notice him. They all turned to face the fairy.

The kneeling figure also desperately twisted her neck around to look at him. And then—

“Challe!”

—she called for him.

He crouched and dashed forward, his silver blade flashing as he charged.

The people standing around the stove scattered in fear. Suddenly free, Anne fell hard on the floor but managed to squeeze out a cry.

“Challe! Don’t kill them! You’ll get arrested!”

Although consumed with anger, at the sound of Anne’s voice, Challe halted his swinging sword. The blade stopped just short of cutting deep into Sammy’s trembling chest and ended up only slashing at the fabric of his shirt.

Challe stood protectively over Anne and looked around at each of the men in turn. “Someday, I will kill every one of you,” he said. “Just you wait. Without fail, I will kill you all.”

It wasn’t an idle threat. He meant what he said. He wondered if they understood that. They all backed up slowly but steadily, and when they had gotten to a safe distance, they took off running at full speed.

Once he confirmed that the men had all fled, Challe waved the sword in his hand and made it disappear.

Then he knelt in front of Anne, took both her hands in his, and looked her over.

“You’re unharmed.”

In his relief, he gently kissed the backs of both her hands. Those hands were her future.

They trembled in his grasp as he kissed them.

“…Challe. Why…did you come?”

Tears had started rolling down Anne’s cheeks.

“Jonas told me to come.”

“Jonas…?”

“He came to tell me you were in danger.”

“…I was…scared.”

“You’re all right now.”

Anne screwed up her face and cried. Challe held her close to his chest.

She began to wail, sobbing like a child. Embracing her head, he kissed her hair.

“Don’t cry.”

Her hair smelled sweet.

“Anne?! Are you all right?!”

Finally, Mithril came bouncing into the workshop. Behind him came Keith as well.

“Challe. This was Sammy’s doing, wasn’t it? Sammy and his gang. I just heard from Jonas. You saw them, didn’t you?” Keith knelt beside Challe. He was wearing a furious expression.

“It was Sammy Jones,” Challe confirmed. “And several other people. I saw their faces.”

“This is unforgivable. I’ve got to report it to Marcus.”

Anne had finally regained her composure. Her crying grew quieter, and she raised her head, sniffling.

“Anne, please forgive me,” Keith continued. “I’m ashamed to be part of the same faction as the crafters of the Radcliffe Workshop who behaved in such a way. But I won’t let them get away with it. We ought to expel them from the faction. I’m going to go let Marcus know right away.”

Keith stood to go, but when he looked toward the door of the workshop, his eyes widened. “Marcus?”

“Keith. I just got a report from Sammy and the others. What a mess.”

Marcus Radcliffe approached them, wearing a grim expression. And when he came to stand in front of Anne, he hung his head.

“Halford. I am sorry. This is a disgrace to our faction. I cannot contain my anger from this inexcusable act. Please forgive me. But I will make him bear the full cost of his actions. I will expel him. And I will make a request to the Silver Sugar Viscount that he shall be prohibited from ever calling himself a candy crafter again. I’ll get the Viscount to order it in his own name. Unbelievable. He may be my own nephew, but I’m utterly disgusted with him.”

“Huh…?” Keith and Anne said in unison.

Challe’s eyes suddenly shone with a sharp light. Mithril looked stunned.

“Jonas is being expelled from the faction.”

Crafters had begun gathering in the workshop, drawn by the commotion. Kat and Elliott were visible in the crowd.

“Wait, please, Marcus! Jonas wasn’t the one who did this. It was Sammy. Jonas went to tell the fairies that Anne was in danger,” Keith rushed to explain.

But Marcus looked unconvinced. “Who would report themselves and the actions they committed? Sammy was the one who came to me looking for help just now to tell me what Jonas was doing.”

“No! The one who went looking for help was Jonas. He went to the fairies.”

“Jonas is my nephew. Why did he need to call on the fairies? If he wanted help, I’m sure he would have come to me, his uncle. I have the ultimate authority here. Jonas knows that there is no one above me who he can rely on. Sammy was the one who actually came to look for me first.”

Anne raised her head from Challe’s chest and stood. She was still trembling slightly, but even so, she spoke loudly and with conviction.

“I think that Jonas…is afraid of you, probably. So maybe he couldn’t go to you for help. I’m certain that the person responsible was Sammy.”

“The only light in this darkness is the fire in the stove. Are you sure your eyes were not mistaken, Halford?”

“I am not mistaken.”

Ignoring what Anne said, Marcus looked at Keith. “Keith. Did you actually witness Sammy trying to do something to Halford?”

“No. Anne saw, and Challe, the fairy. But—”

When Marcus heard that, he nodded as if he had understood. “So Keith didn’t see it after all. Now I really doubt that it was Sammy. First off, he’s got no reason to do something like this. Jonas seems to have plenty of reasons to act out.”

One of the crafters who had gathered to watch the exchange spoke up. “Marcus, I saw Jonas bring Halford into the workshop.”

“That settles that.”

Marcus’s expression grew even more grim.

“No question, Jonas is expelled.”

“That’s awful… Jonas isn’t responsible.” Anne balled her hands into fists, as if she couldn’t completely suppress her anger, and stepped toward Marcus. “Challe and I saw Sammy with our own eyes,” she insisted.

“I can’t trust a fairy. And I can’t put my faith in your testimony alone when you may be mistaken. You might have some reason for wanting to frame Sammy. It sounds like you often argued with him in the workshop.”

“We did argue, that much is true, but—”

“Sammy has been working at this studio since he was twelve years old. I trust him. Don’t tell me you conspired with Jonas to try to frame Sammy for this crime? Was this whole uproar just a trick?”

“No way. I can swear to God if you like. In any case, Jonas isn’t the culprit!”

“That’s enough. Are you still insisting on that story? If you continue to say such foolish things, you won’t be able to take part in the collective work with Sammy and the others tomorrow. The workflow will be disrupted.”

“But it’s not like I can just keep silent! I’m telling the truth!”

“Do you want to interfere with our work? I’ll have you thrown out of here.”

“Hey, what the hell’re you talkin’ about?!” Kat seemed unable to hold back any longer and started to take a step forward.

Elliott grabbed him by the shoulder. “Leave it, Kat. We’re outsiders; we can’t argue.”

Marcus gave Anne a displeased look. “Is that what you want? If you leave now, I won’t be able to give you your silver sugar for your business next year. Don’t make false and careless statements.”

“No matter what you say, the truth is the truth. I can’t stay silent after Jonas helped me, not when his life hangs in the balance.”

“I’ll ask you one more time. Who did you say did this?”

“It was Sammy.”

“Sammy came to me looking for help!”

“He was the one who did it!!”

They glared at each other for a moment, then Marcus snorted.

“Good grief, nothing useful will come of this. I’ve had enough of you. I’m wasting my time even thinking about it further.”

Marcus jerked his chin toward the door.

“Jonas is expelled. And you’ll be a disruption to the work, so you must leave as well. You may take the three barrels of silver sugar that you refined and the sculpture that you made with you. I don’t know who did what, but you can consider that your payment from the Radcliffe Workshop in recompense for what you suffered.”

“…We really screwed up…”

The following day, Anne gathered her things and packed them into her boxy wagon. She secured the sugar candy sculpture that she had just finished in the middle of the cargo hold and carried down the three barrels of silver sugar that she had refined.

“Now I won’t be able to do business next year.”

All she had on hand was a single sculpture she had made for the Royal Candy Fair and the small amount of silver sugar that was in the three barrels.

In the event that she was awarded the royal medal, that sculpture and those three barrels of sugar would be presented to the royal family.

Even if she won, she would have to watch jealously from the sidelines for the next year, as she wouldn’t have the raw ingredient, silver sugar, to make candy.

If she lost, the sculpture and the three barrels of sugar would be hers. Yet they could easily be used up in six months if she wasn’t careful. Then for the remaining half of the year, she’d be unable to do anything but look on in envy.

She had the money that she had been given by the former Duke of Philax, so she could probably afford to eat for the year even without working. But just the thought of not being able to make sugar candy made her miserable.

I wonder if I did something stupid?

Perhaps it would have been better for her not to defy Marcus, to go along with Sammy’s treachery, and say Jonas had done everything. Jonas had certainly done enough to her. Taking all that into consideration, it seemed like going along with things might have been better.

But she couldn’t allow Sammy to successfully get away with his crimes. Furthermore, Jonas had saved Anne. There was no way she could have watched silently as his future was destroyed. So she had ended up arguing with Marcus.

That’s enough. I should quit thinking about it.

She shook her head forcefully and climbed up onto the driver’s seat of her wagon.

Mithril and Challe were already on the bench.

“Shall we go? I guess for now, I can go enter the Royal Candy Fair.”

Trying to get herself to think of good thoughts, Anne pulled herself together and gripped the reins.

“Hey, you over there! Wait up a minute, shrimp!”

Just as she was about to urge the horse onward, an unrefined voice called out from behind to stop her.

Kat and Keith were running toward her at a fast pace.

The work of refining silver sugar was continuing as usual in the workshop. They seemed to have found a spare moment in between tasks to come and see her off.

They caught up, and while looking at Anne sitting atop the driver’s seat, Keith said apologetically, “I’m sorry, Anne. I’m sorry things turned out this way.”

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for, Keith. I should be thanking you instead. I’m grateful to you for everything.”

“I talked it over with Mr. Hingley, and we’re definitely going to try to find some way to prove what Sammy did. Then we’ll see him punished.”

“Just you wait. We’ll catch ’im by the tail,” Kat promised.

From behind Anne, Challe answered with a composed expression, “That might work if he were a mouse. Your specialty, I believe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Challe—!! Why do you have to hassle him every single time?! I’m sorry, Kat. Anyway, thank you very much. Please make sure Sammy gets what’s coming to him.” Anne bowed to Kat, then said to Keith, “I’ll see you again tomorrow, right, Keith? Let’s meet up at the Royal Candy Fair.”

“Looking forward to it.” Keith smiled.

Anne waved good-bye and whipped her horse.

Slowly, she rolled out of the gate of the main studio of the Radcliffe Workshop. Once she passed through, she turned to look behind her once more.

She saw Bridget standing there beside the gate. She looked miserable as she stared at Anne.

That woman… I wonder if she really does love Challe?

As she was having that thought, she shifted her eyes to the road in front of her.

When she did, she saw a familiar sight. A person was trudging along, looking lost, with a large cloth bag hanging across one shoulder, and a red-haired female fairy was sitting on that same shoulder, snuggling up against his cheek.

Anne sped her wagon up a little bit and chased after him.

“Jonas!”

She pulled her boxy wagon to a stop beside him. Then she tossed the reins aside, jumped down from the driver’s bench, and went around in front of him.

“Jonas.”

Jonas gripped the shoulder strap of his simple bag with both hands and refused to meet Anne’s gaze.

The night before, after Anne decided that she would be leaving the workshop, she had gone looking for Jonas in order to thank him. But she hadn’t been able to find him. She heard from Marcus the next morning that he had ordered for Jonas to be thrown out in the middle of the night.

“…What? Do you need something? Or did you come to say that it serves me right?”

He didn’t seem to have slept a wink. He looked exhausted, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

“Not at all. I wasn’t able to thank you, so…I wanted to. Thank you. For saving me. If you hadn’t let Challe and Mithril know, I would have had my hands burned.”

“I didn’t do it for your sake. I just…got scared, so…”

“But at the end of the day, you did save me. The reason why you did it doesn’t change anything. So thank you.”

“Didn’t I tell you I was just frightened?! I was afraid to participate in something like that. That’s all it was! So why are you thanking me? You are a real, genuine idiot! I hate everything about you!”

Anne seriously questioned whether he really hated her. He hadn’t once tried to look directly at her.

“Even so, I’m grateful.”

Jonas bit his lip.

“Let’s go, Master Jonas.”

Cathy gently stroked his cheek to console him.

“Jonas, where will you go from here? Are you going back to Knoxberry Village?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Without raising his head, he turned his back to Anne and walked away.

“Thank you, Jonas.”

When she said it again, Jonas shouted in a loud voice without turning around.

“You huge idiot!!”

Anne smiled bitterly and returned to her driver’s seat.

She headed straight for the Royal Candy Fair registration.

Once she had finished registering, Anne secured lodgings at the Weather Vane.

As soon as they arrived at the inn, Anne said she was sleepy. Most likely due to the fatigue catching up to her, and the chance to release tension, she spent the rest of the day lying in bed.

Challe also wanted to take it easy in their room, but Mithril went down to the bar-cum-dining room on the first floor and drank mulled wine, with the innkeeper to keep him company.

Even as evening approached, Anne did not wake up.

Challe peacefully enjoyed the time passing. He sat on the bed next to Anne’s with his legs outstretched and absentmindedly watched her face as she slept.

While Anne was at the main studio of the Radcliffe Workshop, she had been constantly busy, living her life among the humans. Even when she was exhausted from her work, she had always seemed lively in that setting.

That had irritated him a little bit.

He felt much calmer now that they were back to their normal arrangement, with just the three of them.

That’s selfish.

He could feel himself wanting to pull her away from the world where she rightfully ought to be living.

“Challe Fenn Challe.”

Mithril quietly opened the door and slipped inside. With a grave look on his face, he hopped up onto Challe’s lap.

“Will you listen for a minute? I’ve got something serious to discuss.”

As soon as he heard those words, the vein in Challe’s temple bulged. He reached out a hand to grab hold of Mithril, who rushed to stop him.

“Wait! Challe Fenn Challe! This time, it really is serious!”

“Tell me, then. If it turns out to be something stupid, I’ll chuck you into the hallway.”

“It’s all right. Just relax and listen. Well…maybe you can’t relax. Just now, I went to Anne’s wagon. I was going to steal some silver sugar…no, sample it… No, what I mean to say is… Anyway, I went to see if the silver sugar was still where it belonged.”

At his confession, Challe’s gaze rightly grew cold.

“And? What did you do when you went to steal silver sugar?”

“I didn’t do anything. I just pinched a little bit with the very tip of my finger. A very small theft. And when I did, I noticed something. The silver sugar is…different.”

“Different?”

“I thought it was strange the moment I opened the barrel. I could tell just by looking at it. The color is a little off. But I figured I was just mistaken and took a little sample. And it was awful. It’s completely different from Anne’s silver sugar. It’s not the one Anne refined. It’s the mass-produced silver sugar.”

What’s the meaning of this?

Fairies can only taste silver sugar. That means they have a very keen sense for the subtle variations in flavor that tell them about the human who refined it.

There was no way Mithril could have been mistaken.

“The silver sugar Anne used while she was making her candy sculpture was her own. Of that, I am certain. While I was helping, I periodically sneaked a taste… I mean, I sampled it. I can guarantee it was hers. I wonder when they switched it? Say, Challe Fenn Challe, do you think this is, like, a major issue?”

“It sure is…”

When was it switched?

The only conceivable times were the previous afternoon or at night during the trouble at the workshop. Or this morning, while the three of them were going back and forth between the room and the wagon moving luggage.

But in this case, the key question wasn’t when it happened.

Who did it?

And where did the silver sugar that Anne refined go?

If someone with evil intentions had gotten their hands on Anne’s silver sugar, they might have decided to ruin it. They could have added water to make it unusable or dumped it into the mass-produced batch.

The fact that someone had gone to the trouble of swapping it out meant that some kind of plot was afoot.

And it was most likely related to the following day’s Royal Candy Fair.

If it came to light that Anne’s three barrels of silver sugar were actually mass-produced, it would all be over for her. She would be disqualified for not having the skill to refine her own sugar, no matter how splendid a sculpture she had made.

They would have to act quickly.

No matter what kind of plot was being carried out against Anne, she had to take part in the Royal Candy Fair.

There won’t be a next time for her.

Keith had said as much, that this year might be her last chance. And thinking about the incident that had taken place at the main studio of the Radcliffe Workshop, it didn’t seem like an exaggeration to say it was.

For a sixteen-year-old girl who was not a Silver Sugar Master, this would mean the end of her career.

“Mithril Lid Pod. If Anne knows about the silver sugar, she’ll be reluctant to enter the candy fair. Keep this quiet from her. Let her participate in it tomorrow as planned. We must let her take part.”

Challe got off the bed and stood.

“What are you going to do?” Mithril asked.

“Go looking for her silver sugar. If she wakes up and asks where I am, explain it away somehow.”

“Explain it away? Got it. Leave it to me.” Mithril confidently gave Challe his assurance. Then he looked worried. “Challe Fenn Challe. Please find Anne’s silver sugar!”

“Absolutely. I will find it before tomorrow’s Royal Candy Fair.”

He slipped quietly out of the room, trying not to make any noise.

He headed straight for the main studio of the Radcliffe Workshop.

Night fell early in autumn, and his surroundings were already dark.

He easily crossed over the brick wall and sneaked into the dormitory. Then without hesitation, he opened the door to Kat’s room.

“Hey, kitty cat!”

Kat was in the middle of eating dinner. Startled by the door suddenly opening, he got his bread caught in his throat, and he choked.

Unconcerned, Challe walked briskly into the room.

“Help…me…”

Benjamin rushed to offer Kat some water, and Kat drained the cup, narrowly avoiding death by suffocation. After taking a deep breath, he started shouting:

“So ya weren’t satisfied just harassing me— Ya decided to kill me now?!”

“It would be an inconvenience if you were to die now.”

“So I can die, just not this instant?!”

“I don’t really care. More importantly, I have something to tell you. You need to help me.”

“First, you say you don’t care if I die, and then you ask for my help?”

“It’s about Anne.”

When Kat heard Anne’s name, his expression changed.

“Did something happen?”

“The silver sugar that she carried out of here wasn’t the batch that she made. It was swapped for some of the mass-produced stuff. The only thing I can imagine is that her silver sugar is still on these grounds.”

“You say it was swapped?”

“Would something like that really haaappen? Honestly, what is wrong with all these guys? One thing after another, they never stop. It’s aaawful.”

Naturally, Benjamin, who was listening by Kat’s side, also sounded shocked.

Kat sat in his chair with one knee up, in a display of poor manners, and put a hand to his chin. “I’d guess that the culprit is Sammy, him and that gang that hangs around with him.”

“Summon him here, and I’ll make him confess. You of all people should be able to do that easily.” Challe’s words were cold.

Kat seemed flustered as he put a stop to that idea.

“Wait, wait, wait. There’s no way we can do something like that. We don’t even have proof. Why take such a dangerous approach? For now, let me ask around if anyone has seen Sammy or the guys he hangs around with acting suspiciously. The popular Keith and the sweet-talking Elliott should be good at that. Let’s get their help with this, too.”

Kat stood at once. Then he led Challe to Keith’s room.

Keith looked stunned by Challe and Kat’s unexpected visit.

“What’s the matter, you two?”

Challe cut right to the chase.

“Anne’s silver sugar was switched out.”

Keith’s face clouded over at the fairy’s statement.

“How could that happen?”

As they briefly explained the situation, Keith struggled to contain his anger, and it showed on his face.

“I just wanted to compete against her in a public forum. Why are there people getting in my way…? The Royal Candy Fair is tomorrow. We have to do something about this tonight, don’t we? Mr. Hingley, have you talked to Mr. Collins yet?”

“Haven’t seen him yet, no.”

“Well then, let’s go right away. Time is of the essence.”

Accompanied by Keith and Challe, Kat knocked on the door to Elliott Collins’s room.

“Elliott. It’s me. Open up.”

After a minute, the door cracked open, and Elliott poked half his face out.

“Ah— Kat. Why would you show up at such an awkward time—?”

“Shaddup! I show up when I want! I came to ask for yer help.”

“My help? With what? And that’s hardly the proper attitude for someone who’s asking for a favor.”

“Just open the door!”

Kat pushed the door open.

Bridget was inside.

She sat at the table in the middle of the room, holding a bottle of wine in her hand. She poured the wine into a cup and took a long drink, glaring in their direction.

“Whassat dumb woman doin’ here?”

Elliott rushed to stop Kat’s unsparing mouth.

“Shh, shh! This is the charming ritual of a lovelorn girl drowning her sorrows. I’m keeping her company tonight, so go back to your room, kitty Kat.”

“Don’t call me that; it’s sickening. And there’s no time for all that. Anne Halford is in trouble. Come lend us a hand.”

“You dumbass. Don’t say that name!”

“Anne?”

Bridget screwed up her face. In a tearful voice that sounded like she might burst out crying at any moment, she squeaked, “What’s the matter with her? Did something happen? Is that why Kat came here? How nice to be her. To not have everyone telling her no, she can’t do this or that. To be pampered and protected and flatter herself making believe she’s a candy crafter. To be spoiled…”

Elliott looked up at the ceiling and clapped his hand onto his forehead in exasperation.

Challe pushed Kat aside, shoving his way into the room, with Keith trailing after him. “Shut up,” Challe said. “You know nothing, and you’ve no right to say such selfish things.”

“Oh…it’s you…”

Bridget stood, and the cup fell from her hand. She was very red, but not because she was drunk.

“She’s never given up, no matter what happened,” Challe continued. “That’s all there is to it. If anyone is spoiled, it’s women like you.”

Bridget hung her head and sat in her chair with a thump. Elliott gave her a pitiful look, sat beside her, and started rubbing her back.

Challe didn’t intend to entertain her any further. He jerked his chin toward Kat, urging him to explain.

Kat put both hands on the table and leaned toward Elliott. “Listen, Elliott. Anne Halford left here this morning, right?”

“Indeed, she gallantly rode off of her own accord.”

“Anne took her sculpture with her, plus the three barrels of silver sugar that she refined. That was so she could enter the Royal Candy Fair. But apparently, those three casks of silver sugar were swapped with the mass-produced stuff.”

“Ugh.” Elliott shrugged in exasperation. “Who would do such a petty thing?”

“I think I’ve got an idea,” Kat said. “But since we don’t have any proof, first I wanna find out if anyone saw anything.”

“…I saw them.”

Bridget muttered a few words without lifting her head.

“What’d you say?” Kat asked.

Without raising her head, Bridget answered matter-of-factly, “I saw the culprit. From my room in the main house, I’ve got a good view of the rear courtyard. And of this dorm, too. This morning, while Anne Halford and her fairies were moving her things out, the perpetrator went inside the dormitory carrying three barrels. Then after she and the others had left the grounds, he came out again, carrying three casks.”

Challe approached the table and looked down at Bridget. “You watched this happen?”

She finally looked up. Her face was red, but there was a defiant light in her eyes. “I did. All of it. Because I was watching you.”

“What did he do with the silver sugar? Do you know?”

“I do know. I thought it was strange, so I left my room and sneaked a look at what was going on.”

“Whose doing was it? Where is the silver sugar?”

Bridget smiled darkly. Then she turned her face away.

“I have no intention of telling you.”

The Royal Candy Fair was due to start any minute.

Anne had taken her sugar candy sculpture and the three barrels of sugar from the cargo hold of her boxy wagon, then carried them to the site. Just like the year before, in the plaza overlooked by the enormous royal palace, there were tables lined up in a row, prepared for displaying the candy sculptures.

Anne placed her piece on a table according to the number that she had been assigned.

The barrels of silver sugar had been collected at the edge of the plaza. So that it would be clear whose casks were whose, the participants’ names were written on their respective barrels by an official before entering the square.

With her preparations complete, Anne turned anxiously to Mithril, who was riding on her shoulder.

“Hey, is Challe really okay, Mithril Lid Pod?”

“H-he’s fine! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…ha…”

“I mean, you said that his hiccups wouldn’t stop, so he went to a shop at the edge of town to get medicinal herbs that’ll help. Those have to be some terrible hiccups, right?”

“W-well, I’m sure they’re not all that bad. H-he’s a-always getting them. He’ll be fine once he eats some grass.”

“Huh? But if he needs grass, there’s some just over there.”

“Whoops, I meant herbs.”

Something was definitely off. Anne was certain that Mithril was hiding something, but she didn’t know what it was.

She also wondered why Challe had disappeared.

It was making her anxious.

She feared something bad might be happening.

One after another, the entrants in the Royal Candy Fair gathered. There were twenty of them that year. Anne knew every one of their faces. That was because the year’s hopefuls, without exception, had been staying at the main studio of the Radcliffe Workshop. Of course, Sammy Jones was there, too. He kept looking at her and grinning from a spot a short distance away.

Most of the crafters had assembled and were standing neatly in their places.

The townspeople had gathered, brimming with curiosity. They surrounded the entire plaza. Word had spread that the previous year’s Royal Candy Fair had been a real spectacle, so there was an even bigger crowd this year.

Anne couldn’t see Keith anywhere, even though it was almost time for the king to arrive.

What could have happened to him?

Just as she was starting to get worried, Keith hurried into the plaza. Anne was relieved.

Keith carried in his barrels and placed his sugar candy sculpture in the spot assigned to him. Then he ran quickly over to Anne.

“I’m sorry, Anne. I don’t think we’re going to make it in time. She won’t talk. Challe stayed behind alone to persuade her. And Mr. Hingley is on his way here. He said he might be able to help you if anything happens. There’s no question that some sort of scheme is in the works. But we don’t know what is going to happen. To think that the candy fair where I go up against you would come to this. I…”

Anne tilted her head in puzzlement at Keith’s strange behavior. “What are you talking about?” she asked. “You were with Challe this whole time?”

“You…don’t know?!”

Just then, there was a commotion at the tent where the Earl of Downing, the Silver Sugar Viscount, and the other officials were waiting.

Soon after, Hugh Mercury, the Silver Sugar Viscount, slowly emerged from behind a tent flap. Standing in front of the line of candy crafters, he squinted.

“Keith Powell. Stay in your own spot.”

Keith looked like he wanted to say something, but he went back to his own place. After Hugh saw him return, he nimbly raised one hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, His Majesty has yet to take his seat. The opening of the Royal Candy Fair has yet to be proclaimed. Before that announcement can take place, something has happened, which I must verify.”

There was a piece of paper in Hugh’s hand.

“This morning, this letter was delivered to me. Written in it is the following: ‘Anne Halford, who intends to enter the Royal Candy Fair today, is not fit to be called a candy crafter.’”

Anne was shocked.

The letter’s about me?!

There was a commotion among the spectators, as well as the other candy crafters. Their eyes all focused on Anne.

“‘She is an utter amateur when it comes to refining silver sugar and doesn’t have the skills to do it on her own. As proof, the three barrels that she brought with her contain the mass-produced sugar made as part of the special measures stemming from this year’s poor harvest. The difference should be obvious when compared with silver sugar refined by a proper candy crafter in individual batches. I hope that you will verify this.’”

Hugh, who had indifferently read the letter out loud, folded it neatly and put it in his pocket.

What a nasty accusation!

Anne’s anger surged, and her balled-up fists trembled.

“So then, Anne Halford. I would like to check your silver sugar; is that all right?”

Hugh fixed his eyes on Anne.

“Silver Sugar Viscount! This is just ridiculous!” Keith yelled. “Do you take every libelous letter that comes to you seriously?” He didn’t seem like he could stop himself from shouting.

“Don’t speak out of turn, Keith Powell. Even if it is libel, if I don’t check, it will cause trouble down the line. And if it turns out to be nothing, then all is well. All right, Halford?”

Anne looked straight back at Hugh’s stern face.

“I don’t mind. Go ahead.”