Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 3 - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

BROKEN SUGAR CANDY

“It’s probably best if I’m not here— I’ll step outside. Bridget, you have a nice long talk with that guy, now.”

Keith and Kat were both on their way to the Royal Candy Fair. Only Challe and Elliott stayed behind with Bridget.

But after a few minutes, Elliott waved farewell and stepped outside.

Elliott Collins was an unpredictable man.

His own fiancée was saying she was in love with a fairy, and that she was going out of her mind with desire for him. But Elliott did not react to her conduct with jealousy or sadness. He just watched over her and soothed her, as if the whole thing was a minor nuisance.

Day had broken, and the commencement of the Royal Candy Fair was fast approaching.

Bridget had remained silent.

Keith and Kat had stayed up all night searching the studio, but in the end, they hadn’t been able to find Anne’s silver sugar anywhere. With looks of despair on their faces, the two of them had headed for the plaza in front of the royal castle.

Perhaps Anne’s silver sugar was very skillfully hidden. Or maybe it was gone altogether.

Challe sat on top of the table and looked down at Bridget, who was sitting in a chair.

“Does the silver sugar that Anne refined no longer exist? If that’s the case, I’ll go.”

If Anne’s sugar had been destroyed, it would be a waste of Challe’s time for him and Bridget to sit there glaring at each other. He didn’t know what he would do in that case, but if there was no sugar to find, he felt like he ought to hurry to Anne’s side.

When he asked her that, Bridget smiled ruefully. “It exists. Even that good-for-nothing guy was spellbound when he saw that silver sugar. He didn’t look like he could bring himself to ruin it. And I can understand that feeling, given that I’m the daughter of a Silver Sugar Master.”

“Where is it? Tell me. Otherwise, I’ll kill you.”

Bridget snickered at Challe’s coldhearted words.

“That would be fine by me. She won’t be able to become a Silver Sugar Master, and as a fairy who killed a human, you will be executed. You’ll never make it back to her. It’ll be a lovers’ suicide, you and me.”

Threats won’t work against her.

Against an adversary as stubborn and strongly fixated as Bridget, even thrusting his sword at the base of her throat would have no result.

The light streaming in through the window formed a bright square on the floor. The workers were up and about, and the rear courtyard was filled with their voices as they headed for the workshop. Several small birds sat on the windowsill, chirping.

Challe softly closed his eyes and listened to the lively, bright chatter.

The Royal Candy Fair was starting very soon. If Anne was eliminated this time, she wouldn’t get another chance.

If Kat or Hugh requested it, she might get to try again. But there was the question of whether Anne would accept their help. She would likely hesitate to do so. Furthermore, the king and the Earl of Downing might have reservations about the girl who had caused an uproar at two consecutive Royal Candy Fairs. It was hard to say whether they would actually allow her to participate a third time.

Challe wanted to make it so that Anne could live the life she wanted next year.

He had long since realized a way that he could do that. But he hadn’t been able to get the words out of his mouth.

If this was for Liz, no question about it, I would have immediately suggested it.

But for Anne’s sake, he couldn’t.

No matter what he wanted, the selfish feelings inside him stood in his way. He wasn’t thinking about Anne’s future or her life; he just never wanted to be apart from her.

The bell at the Church of Saint Lewiston Bell rang out solemnly over the city.

It was time for the Royal Candy Fair. At the bell’s signal, Challe opened his eyes.

The morning sun flooding in made him think of Anne’s future. It would be too heartrending to extinguish that light.

Challe’s selfish feelings would not be pacified, so he forced them to the back of his mind as he opened his mouth.

“Do you still want my wing?” he asked quietly.

Bridget looked in his direction.

“…I want it.”

“If I give it to you, in exchange, will you tell me the location of Anne’s silver sugar?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in Bridget’s response.

Challe dug through the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a leather pouch. He flung it unceremoniously into her lap.

“Tell me.”

Bridget gingerly picked up the leather pouch, opened the top, and pulled out the wing that was folded up inside it. Spread out, it had no fold or creases, and it was smooth and soft like translucent silk.

“Your wing.”

She laid it out lovingly across her open palms and stared intently down at it.

Then Bridget slowly raised her head and gave him a command that sounded like an entreaty.

“Kiss me.”

Without hesitation, Challe put his hand on her chin and leaned over her. He pressed his lips against hers.

He didn’t know how she felt about the simple peck, but when he pulled away, Bridget breathed a little sigh.

“I’ll show you. Come on.”

Then she stood.

The three barrels with Halford written on them were brought before Hugh.

“Acting as inspectors will be myself and the maestro of the Radcliffe Workshop, Marcus Radcliffe. We will verify the sugar together. That way, there can be no objection. Radcliffe and Halford, come join me.”

On Hugh’s command, Marcus came out of the tent.

At that very moment, the bell at the Church of Saint Lewiston Bell rang out solemnly throughout the city.

“I’ll be back. Mithril Lid Pod, just wait for me here.”

With a nervous expression on her face, Anne lowered Mithril onto the table from where he had been perched on her shoulder. Mithril looked as if he might start crying at any moment.

“Anne. Wait, Anne. Listen to me, that’s—”

“It’s fine. I’ll be right back,” she said.

She lifted her head and stepped forward before Hugh.

“I will open the lids.”

“Very well. Open them.”

Anne wanted to dispel the ridiculous false accusation with her own hands.

However, she was startled when she opened the lid of the first barrel.

It’s different?!

In a panic, she opened the remaining two barrels, but they did not contain her sugar, either. She could tell right away. Both the color and texture were wrong.

Anne stared, dumbfounded.

“How…?”

Hugh and Marcus peered into the three barrels and grimaced.

After examining the color, the two of them scooped the silver sugar into their hands and let it fall from a certain height. They also each pinched a small amount and brought it to their lips to taste.

“This is the mass-produced silver sugar that was made at the main studio of the Radcliffe Workshop this year. Unavoidably, the process produces sugar that is of lower quality than the sugar refined in individual batches. And this is that sugar.”

All commotion stopped at the sound of Marcus’s solemn voice. The plaza fell silent.

Hugh’s voice echoed through the quiet square. “There is no doubt that this is mass-produced silver sugar. There is no way the result would be so crude if it wasn’t.”

“…I know that I…I refined my silver sugar with my own hands, and I used it to create my sculpture. I’m sure of that. But I don’t know how these three barrels came to contain the mass-produced sugar…”

Anne desperately strung words together as she kept a hold on her voice, which threatened to tremble with agitation.

However—

“Disqualify her!”

—a shout came from the audience.

“If she didn’t refine the silver sugar herself, then disqualify her!”

Anne felt the impact of their criticism as if she had been struck by stones. It took all her effort to keep herself from staggering over.

How? Why?

Nothing but questions swirled around in her head, and she couldn’t think straight.

“Wait a minute. That’s the crafter who made the sugar candy for the former Duke of Philax. There’s no way that she doesn’t know how to refine silver sugar!”

“That’s right, there’s been some kind of mistake.”

“I’ve bought candy from that girl before! Both the finished piece and the silver sugar it was made from were top-notch.”

Other attendees raised their voices. When they did, the people who had jeered at her first shouted back at them with contempt.

“You’ve all been fooled!”

“Didn’t she cause some kind of issue last year, too?”

“That’s rich, coming from a guy who’s never bought one of her candies!”

“It’s some sort of mistake.”

“We can’t trust that little girl!”

The bickering gradually spread through the crowd. In a fit of anger, the spectators began grabbing one another by the collars.

“She’s disqualified!”

“What did you say?!”

As the arguments escalated, guards ran over and pointed their spears at the audience. They shouted for everyone to be quiet.

“Silence!”

A booming voice resounded over the noise of the plaza. Its volume and intensity made the crowd go quiet.

At the front of the plaza, in the tent before the castle, stood the members of the royal family. In the middle of the group was His Majesty, the king of Highland, Edmond II. His eyes were wide as he glared furiously at the rioting crowd and the dumbfounded candy crafters.

That was when Anne finally realized the bell at the Church of Saint Lewiston Bell had finished ringing, and that it had been signaling the arrival of the royal family.

Hugh and Marcus seemed startled as they turned back to face the king. They each got down on one knee and bowed.

Anne also hastily followed suit.

“What is all this fuss? Downing, explain!” the king demanded in the same tone he’d used to silence everyone.

The Earl of Downing immediately rushed over to the king and informed him of the situation.

The king nodded as he listened, and beside him, the queen frowned. She looked out at the crowd, and her gaze came to rest on Anne, who was still hanging her head.

“I see,” the king said. “So you’re telling me that last year, we had a crafter who brought a sculpture of uncertain origin. And this year, we have one who brought silver sugar that they did not refine themselves?”

Then the king looked at Anne as well.

“And that the same person was involved in both incidents?” he asked. “Anne Halford, raise your head. Everyone else, too.”

Anne lifted her head. The king had a blank expression.

“I overlooked the fact that you made a scene at last year’s Royal Candy Fair. But what is the cause of the uproar this time? If you can explain it, please do so.”

“I refined my silver sugar with my own hands and used it to make my candy sculpture. Of that, I am certain. The fairies who are my friends were checking the sugar the whole time I was making my entry piece. But between the time when I finished it and when I transported the remaining three barrels of silver sugar here, someone swapped out my sugar. I don’t know how or when this happened. But I did properly refine my own silver sugar by myself.”

“And are we to take your word that you refined it on your own? You have no proof, do you?” the queen asked.

The king heard her and nodded. “I believe that’s the case. Silver Sugar Viscount. Mercury, how can we settle this?”

Hugh readily answered his question. “Regardless of the reason, if she hasn’t got her own silver sugar on hand right now, she’s not qualified to be here.”

“Throw her out! The liar!”

Another jeer flew at Anne from the audience. She bit her lip.

It’s not a lie… It’s not a lie!

There was no way she could still participate in the contest. With that fact thrust before her, Anne became strangely calm.

Even if I can’t anymore, I’m not telling lies.

She still had her pride, knowing that she had completed her sculpture, and Anne furiously burned with the desire to prove she wasn’t lying. A voice from the past whispered in her ear like an echo.

“You are the finest of candy crafters.”

Those were the words that the duke had said to her with gentle, sad eyes. His compliment gave Anne a push on the back. It told her to fight.

Anne had been looking down, but now she lifted her head suddenly.

“I will give up on participating in the Royal Candy Fair. But I did refine my silver sugar with my own two hands. I’d like to be allowed to prove that to you, at least. Your Majesty, please allow me to do so!”

“If that is something you can do, you’re welcome to try.”

When she heard those words, Anne bowed again, stood, and went back to the spot where her sculpture was waiting.

Mithril looked up at Anne with tears running down his face.

“Anne… I’m sorry. I knew about it. But I couldn’t fix it in time.”

Keith was also looking at her apologetically.

Anne shook her head lightly at the two of them.

“It’s fine. There’s nothing to be done. I’m a fool for not noticing. But I’m at least going to prove that I’m not a liar. I’ll prove that I’m a proper candy crafter.”

As she spoke, Anne removed the white cloth that covered her candy sculpture.

The plaza stirred. The king and queen both opened their eyes wide.

“…Beautiful,” she heard Hugh mumble.

Anne stood before her sugar candy sculpture of a climbing rose in bloom, which looked like something out of a dream.

“Your Majesty,” she said loudly. “Please summon a fairy who you trust. I will prove myself to them.”

“A fairy?”

The king signaled the queen with his eyes, and she nodded and called out to the back of the tent, “Clifford. Come here.”

At the queen’s summons, a tall fairy who looked like a young man dressed in a valet’s uniform appeared from behind the tent flap.

“I can rely on him. You may do whatever it is you wish to do.”

“Thank you very much.”

Anne bent her knees and steeled herself. She stared at her candy sculpture. Then she placed a hand on one of the flowers of the climbing rose and snapped it right off.

Everyone in the plaza gasped.

For a moment, Anne made a pained face, as if it was her own arm that had been broken. Truly, her chest did hurt.

With the broken flower in her hand, Anne stepped forward in front of the tent again and knelt.

“Please ask him to taste this,” she implored, holding out her sugar rose. “He should be able to tell that it was not made with the mass-produced silver sugar.

“This year, no one has been refining silver sugar on their own, except for the twenty hopefuls here and the one person who pulled out from the contest. I heard that Master Radcliffe had taken the sugar from the person who withdrew before mixing it in with the mass-produced batches. And so assuming everyone else here has provided their three barrels, there should be no extra sugar refined by other individuals. If I really am unable to make my own silver sugar, then my sculpture would have used the mass-produced sugar, and it ought to taste like it. However, if that’s not the case, then I must have used what I refined.” Anne finished her explanation.

She had heard that the silver sugar that Jonas had refined had been mixed into the mass-produced batch the night before. Supposedly, Marcus had personally done it, and this was confirmed by a number of human witnesses.

It was possible that Anne’s silver sugar had met the same fate.

But she still had her sugar candy sculpture, which she’d made with her own silver sugar.

That was her proof.

Clifford looked slightly uncomfortable. But when the queen gave him the signal, he stepped out of the tent and walked over to Anne.

“May I?” he asked Anne, who was still kneeling.

She nodded firmly. “I hope you find it to your liking. Please go ahead.”

“I humbly accept.”

Clifford took the rose and held it in his palm. The flower softly dissolved and disappeared, as it was being absorbed into his hand. Clifford smiled a little. Then he said quietly, “It’s delicious. Incredibly delicious.”

The fairy looked back at the king.

“This was made with very high-quality silver sugar,” he said. “The flavor that I get from the essence of the piece is splendid, too, but it’s really the craftsmanship of the silver sugar that stands out.”

The king shifted his gaze back to Anne.

“Surely, she must have refined it. But where did that silver sugar go?”

“I do not know. But as long as you understand that I refined the silver sugar on my own and made this sculpture with it, I’m satisfied. My apologies for causing a disturbance. I’m very sorry. I’ll be leaving now.”

Anne bowed deeply. She felt like her tears might spill over. But she managed to hold them in and rose to her feet. She turned her back to the king and started to walk back to the table where her sugar candy was sitting. She passed by Hugh’s side on the way.

Hugh grabbed Anne’s arm.

“Wait. Look, Anne,” he whispered.

There was a woman with long golden hair walking slowly toward them from the edge of the plaza. Behind the young woman followed a beautiful fairy with striking black eyes. It was Bridget and Challe.

The Earl of Downing approached them, and Bridget said something to him. The earl looked surprised and rushed back to the king’s side.

“Your Majesty,” the Earl of Downing said. “Just now, the daughter of Glen Paige, the maestro of the Paige Workshop, has arrived. She says that she knows the whereabouts of the silver sugar refined by Anne Halford, and that she wants to report it to the Silver Sugar Viscount and to you, Your Majesty.”

“What?”

“Would it be all right if I call her over?”

“That’s fine. Bring her here.”

With an unenthusiastic gait, Bridget walked up to the king and knelt.

Anne was completely confused. What was Bridget doing here, and why did she know the whereabouts of Anne’s silver sugar? Plus, why were she and Challe together?

“I am Bridget, the daughter of Glen Paige, the maestro of the Paige Workshop. I have come here because I know the whereabouts of the silver sugar that the crafter standing over there, Anne Halford, refined. I’m here to settle the confusion.”

“Where is the silver sugar?”

In response to Hugh’s question, Bridget pointed to the edge of the plaza where the barrels full of silver sugar were standing, the ones that the twenty hopefuls entering the Royal Candy Fair had brought with them.

“Over there. There should be three barrels that have the name Jones written on them. They do not contain silver sugar that was refined by Sammy Jones, but by Anne Halford.”

“What did you say?!” Marcus was the one who raised his voice. He turned to look sternly at Sammy. “Please tell me this is some kind of false accusation!”

Sammy went pale at the sound of Marcus’s voice. The maestro stormed over to him, grabbed his arm, and dragged him toward Hugh.

“Explain to him that this is a false accusation from the Paige Workshop, Sammy.”

Sammy looked around at the king, Marcus, Hugh, Anne, and Mithril. He was breathing hard.

“Sorry, Sammy Jones,” Bridget said indifferently. “I saw you. I wasn’t planning on saying anything, but circumstances have changed.”

While all this was going on, the guard brought Sammy’s sugar barrels over. Hugh opened the lids and beckoned to Clifford.

“Clifford. Please check the flavor of the silver sugar. You ate a piece of Halford’s sculpture, so you should be able to tell immediately whether they have the same flavor.”

“Understood.”

Clifford promptly scooped up some of the silver sugar from one of the barrels into his palm. It dissolved before their eyes. Once it disappeared, a look of surprise appeared on Clifford’s face.

“This silver sugar has the same flavor as Ms. Halford’s candy sculpture. Without question, it is the same sugar.”

“Unbelievable…,” Marcus muttered in despair. He turned to look at Sammy.

Sammy dropped to his knees on the spot.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just wanted to defend the good name of the Radcliffe Workshop!”

“You fool!”

Marcus lost control and punched the side of Sammy’s face.

“Then why did you bring and use Halford’s silver sugar to enter the candy fair? How shameless can you be?”

“Forgive me, please.”

“Why should I?!”

“Because I just thought…how great it would be if this silver sugar…was something that I made.”

As a candy crafter himself, he hadn’t been able to fight the temptation to claim the exquisitely refined silver sugar as his own.

Ordinarily, it would have been impossible to prove that the silver sugar in the barrels was Anne’s. If Sammy had insisted it was his, there would be no way to disprove it. That had probably set him at ease.

However, he never could have expected that Anne would break her own sculpture to prove the flavor of the sugar she used—no one could have imagined it.

“This is the silver sugar that Anne Halford refined. Which means, Sammy Jones, that you do not have any silver sugar of your own making. You are disqualified.”

At Hugh’s words, Marcus hung his head.

“This man is my responsibility, so allow me to take him out of here. I will also give him the appropriate punishment. Fortunately, the Royal Candy Fair has yet to formally begin. I assume you have no objections? As the faction’s maestro, I’ll take accountability and deal with this.”

“That sounds fine. Is it all right, Your Majesty?” Hugh asked.

The king nodded. “We will entrust this matter to him. I want that man thrown out of here, and I want Halford back in her proper place and for Downing to announce the beginning of the candy fair.”

Hugh and the Earl of Downing bowed sharply in unison.

The king and queen took their seats.

“Well, you heard the man. Anne, go back to your spot.”

Hugh turned to her and winked playfully.

“But, Hugh, my candy sculpture is already…”

“You can still participate, though. Even if you can’t win the royal medal. You are a real candy crafter, right? So you can take part.”

“Ah, mm. Yes!”

Anne answered energetically and turned back to face Bridget.

“Thank you, Bridget.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve already got my reward.”

“Huh?”

Without pause, Bridget walked off toward the edge of the plaza where Challe was standing. Anne looked at him, trying to ask for the meaning behind Bridget’s words, and he nodded, as if to tell her not to worry.

Challe found my silver sugar for me.

Her heart was brimming with gratitude. She nodded back at him and returned to her own spot.

When Anne returned, Mithril climbed up onto her shoulder, blubbering tearfully. “Anne, your candy is broken, isn’t it? Now you’ll never win the royal medal.”

“It’s fine.”

Anne nodded at Keith as well.

“I got them to acknowledge that I am not a liar and that I’m a proper candy crafter.”

Once Sammy had been led away and the confusion had been resolved, the Earl of Downing returned to his own tent and quickly straightened out his disordered clothes. Then he raised his hand with dignity and spoke loudly to the crowd.

“I hereby announce the opening of the Royal Candy Fair. We promise to award the distinction of Silver Sugar Master to the most outstanding candy crafter in the kingdom.”

The official running the candy fair issued instructions to the crafters.

“Everyone. You will now show His Majesty your sugar candy sculptures.”

All the participants except for Anne removed the sheets covering their pieces.

Anne could hear a whispered commotion break out among the spectators.

The king and queen took a cursory look at the sculptures that were lined up before them.

Their eyes came to an abrupt stop when they reached Keith’s.

The king leaned forward even more.

“Oh wow… This is an incredibly elegant fairy. It’s perfect. The phrase without fault must refer to something like this. I have never seen a better representation of a fairy rendered in sugar candy.”

Then his eyes glanced back at Anne’s sugar candy sculpture.

“Yet I am also fascinated by Halford’s piece. Her climbing rose made from fairy wings is like something out of a dream. It has an indescribably mellow feeling to it… It’s very difficult to choose between them.”

At that point, the king paused briefly and sat back in his seat.

“I’m sure I would have a hard time making a decision if that one wasn’t broken. In a case like this, where both sculptures are so excellent, I suppose I must naturally choose the one that is still intact.”

At his praise, Keith had started to break into a smile, but when he heard the king continue with his evaluation of Anne’s sugar candy, his expression fell apologetically.

Anne had already known the outcome going in, so she had accepted it. Just hearing the king’s words was plenty for her.

His Majesty said that my work was outstanding. I’m happy just to still be standing here.

Keith’s sugar candy sculpture was a perfect depiction of Challe Fenn Challe. Anyone would have agreed that it was incredibly beautiful.

Anne didn’t think there was any way her work could rival such a splendid piece. It was impossible to hope she could win with a broken candy sculpture.

The only thing that disappointed her was that she hadn’t been able to compete on a level playing field against Keith. He had always recognized her as a candy crafter on equal footing with himself.

“Downing, what is that crafter’s name?” the king asked.

“He is Keith Powell,” the earl quietly answered. “The son of the former Silver Sugar Viscount.”

“I see, so it runs in his blood? Certainly, Powell was known for his handsome candy sculptures. Well then, let me decide. That candy sculpture of a fairy…”

The king was about to say something, but he stopped.

He had noticed the queen, who was sitting beside him, suddenly but silently pointing with the tip of her closed fan toward a certain spot. The king looked at where the fan was directed and made a startled expression.

“That’s…the fairy.”

“Yes, it’s the fairy. The model for that candy sculpture.”

The queen was pointing at Challe, who was watching the procedure intently from the edge of the plaza.

Even in the weak autumn light, he was the image of regal power, and he naturally drew many looks.

His handsome face and his cold, brilliant black eyes made quite the impression, as did the strength of will in his gaze. Even Anne, who was accustomed to looking at him, found her eyes unconsciously drawn to his sharp, beguiling luster, which had been carved from a piece of obsidian.

“That candy crafter flawlessly and exactly reproduced a beautiful fairy. Certainly, it is a perfect reproduction. And amazing, without a doubt. But please take a look. See how gorgeous that fairy is? Which do you think is more beautiful, Your Majesty, that fairy or the sugar candy made to look like him?”

At the queen’s words, Keith looked astounded, as if he had suddenly realized something. Then he mumbled, “I see…! So then I…”

“What a foolish question you ask. An imitation cannot compare to the beauty of the real thing. No matter how perfectly replicated, it is only sugar candy…”

The king got that far into his answer, then made an expression like he had surprised even himself. He looked back and forth between Keith’s sculpture and Anne’s.

The king’s words made Anne remember the sugar candy sculpture of Christina that she had created for the Duke of Philax. She recalled that he had said her sculpture was the very image of Christina.

But there was no way a lifeless sugar candy could be more gorgeous than a real person with the spark of life.

That was why Duke Alburn had looked so miserable.

“A sugar candy that perfectly represents a real fairy. And one that captures a dreamlike vision. The fact is that both of them are so beautiful, it’s hard to choose. So which one is more appealing? Isn’t one of them superior in that sense, Your Majesty?”

When he heard the queen’s composed words, the king mumbled, “More appealing, huh? If that’s the question, then one of them does stand out.”

After a long period of silence, the king continued:

“…But it’s too bad.”

When the king finally uttered those words, the queen chuckled.

“What do you mean, Your Majesty?” she asked.

“It’s too bad that Halford’s candy sculpture is broken. No matter how beautiful and appealing it may be…”

Then suddenly, the queen started giggling.

“So it’s broken; what of it? That doesn’t change the fact that it’s lovely. Actually, I think that makes the piece even more charming.”

“What?”

“This is not a space for seeking perfection. It is where you select the most beautiful sugar candy. And a place where you look for the qualities that make a Silver Sugar Master. That crafter who broke her own sculpture, what do you think of her, as an artist? How about selecting the piece that your heart wants?”

At the queen’s words, the king burst out laughing. He couldn’t contain himself. “You say we are not here to seek perfection?! Why, that’s pure sophistry, my queen!” He chuckled. “And of the most extreme kind. But of course, that’s not a problem. I shall decide based on which one I like the most.”

The king stood.

“Keith Powell.”

The king called his name quietly. Keith answered with a nervous expression.

“Yes.”

“Your sugar candy sculpture is perfect. And it probably would have been even more alluring if the fairy you used as your model had not appeared. Your piece likely would have won.”

Keith seemed to realize the meaning behind the king’s words. He hung his head and smiled bitterly.

“I understand, Your Majesty.”

When he heard that, the king nodded slowly, then shifted his gaze slightly and looked at Anne.

“Then I will make the announcement,” the king solemnly declared. “I have decided to award the royal medal to the sugar candy sculpture made by Anne Halford. The person who made that piece will be this year’s Silver Sugar Master.”

Anne was flabbergasted by this development.

Huh?

The crowd was astir.

No one could believe their ears, including Anne.

Even Hugh was dumbfounded. His mouth formed the words No way.

“Anne Halford. Come forward,” the Earl of Downing instructed her.

But Anne was in a daze. She didn’t move.

“Anne! Anne! Hey, Anne!”

Mithril tugged on Anne’s hair.

Keith approached her and gave her a gentle push on the shoulder.

“Anne. Go forward. You’re receiving the royal medal!”

Mithril hopped over to Keith’s shoulder.

“Anne, get going!”

Between Mithril’s words of encouragement and Keith’s gentle hand on her back, Anne staggered unsteadily forward. Hugh stepped out of the tent and pulled her along by the hand. Then once he had led her to the king, he placed his hands lightly on her shoulders.

“Kneel, Anne. Bow before the one giving you this honor.”

Once Anne did as instructed, reality finally hit her. Her whole body began to tremble.

“I grant you the royal medal,” said the king softly. “You are this year’s Silver Sugar Master. Hold out your hands.”

Anne held them out while still bowing.

A chilly weight was placed into her palms.

“Raise your head.”

When Anne did as she was told and lifted her head, the king and queen were gazing at her with admiration.

“Live your life cherishing the sacred, as a creator of the sacred.”

In her palms was a hexagonal medal carved from a rare, pure-white stone and polished to a glossy finish. It was engraved with a complicated climbing-rose pattern.

I’ve seen this before.

Anne had spied on her mother, Emma, gazing now and then at an identical medal, alone in the middle of the night.

She had always done it when they were having a hard time.

Sometimes when Anne was sniffling tearfully about whether her mother would have the strength to walk and continue forward the next day, Emma would secretly gaze at her medal late at night. Then, the next morning, she would be wearing a surprisingly cheerful smile.

Her mother had never told her what that white hexagonal object was. But it was her medal. Now it was resting forever with Emma.

Mama.

She probably expected that someday, Anne would become a Silver Sugar Master in her own right. And when that happened, she would finally understand the significance of that object.

This is my medal.

Anne bowed again and answered in a strong voice. “I will live my life as a creator of the sacred forevermore.”

“I trust you will.”

The king accepted Anne’s words and turned on his heel. The queen followed suit, and they left the tent.

Even after the royal family had departed, the plaza was still in an uproar.

“Well. You can go now,” Hugh said.

Anne stood slowly, and he patted her on the head. “So it looks like there was nothing wrong with my judgment,” he said. “Go on, Keith Powell and your little friend are waiting for you. Get going.”

“Thank you, Hugh.”

“I didn’t do anything this time, though. Ah, uh-oh. That’s no good. Is that Kat coming from over there? I’m getting out of here before he has a chance to corner me.”

Hugh turned aside to dodge Kat.

Anne nimbly dashed over to where Keith and Mithril were standing. “Mithril Lid Pod! Keith!” she shouted.

Keith embraced Anne tightly as she cheerfully bounded toward him. He was smiling bitterly.

“I am a fool, aren’t I? I didn’t need to worry about you at all.”

“Huh?”

“My sculpture was perfect. Probably even better than yours. But I was anxious. I didn’t know why, but I was. Now I understand the reason. My sugar candy perfectly represented a beautiful fairy, just as he is. That was enough to make it stunning. But the effect was ruined when the real Challe appeared. Sugar candy will never be a match for the beauty of the real thing. No matter how well I replicate it, in the end, it’s just candy. But your sculpture is a vision, Anne. You grabbed hold of an idea and gave it form. There isn’t anything in existence to compare it to. So it fascinates people all the more.”

At that point, Keith looked down at the royal medal in Anne’s hands. “Next year, I’m definitely going to get mine,” he said. “Once I do, I’d like to compete with you again. I learned something from today’s match. The next time I go up against you, I intend to win. Just because you proved yourself a better artist, that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ve lost to you.”

“Mm. All right then, we’ll have another round. But I don’t think I’m going to lose to you, either.”

Anne grinned. When she did, Keith laughed out loud. Then he suddenly flashed his usual gentle smile and held out his right hand.

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

Anne gripped his hand tightly.

The intensity of Keith’s eyes and the warmth of his handshake made Anne feel happy, even as they challenged each other with smiles on their faces. She was eager to compete against Keith again. And she didn’t want to lose to him next time, either. That wasn’t out of animosity. It came from a place of respect.

Keith let go of Anne’s hand and patted her on the shoulder. “Well, Anne. I suppose you ought to go thank Challe soon. He’s the one who persuaded Bridget to cooperate. You’ve got to show off your medal to him first.”

“Yeah. I have to thank Challe. Where is he?”

She surveyed her surroundings, looking for his black eyes.

She spotted him standing with Bridget at the edge of the plaza.

“Challe!”

She took off running in his direction, but Challe discreetly held his hand up, signaling her to stop where she was. Anne was curious, but she came to a halt. Then Challe said something to Bridget and walked over to Anne.

“Challe, look, the royal medal. It’s all because of you. Thank you. See, it’s really pretty.” She held up the white medal with both hands and showed it to him.

He smiled. It was a tender but pained smile that threatened to steal her heart away. “You are a Silver Sugar Master. You hold your future in your hands. There’s…nothing for me to worry about now.”

That was all Challe said before he turned to go.

Startled, Anne clutched her royal medal to her chest with one hand and grabbed Challe’s arm with the other.

“Wait, Challe. Where are you going?”

“I can’t be with you anymore.”

Anne’s mind went blank for a moment. It was like she had been slapped in the face. She let go of his arm.

“……Uh……”

“There’s no time. Bridget ordered me to come back right away. I’m going now.”

“Why can’t you be with us…? Why not? Have you gotten sick of being together? I know I’m stupid, and I caused you nothing but trouble, so—”

“That’s not it.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t do weird things from now on. I’ll try really hard. So—”

“That’s not it, Anne,” he said painfully.

The next moment, he hugged her close, as if he could no longer resist. Then he planted a forceful kiss on Anne’s cheek.

“I didn’t want to part with you,” he whispered desperately.

Then Challe pushed Anne away from him and turned his back to her. As if making a clean break, he walked off toward Bridget without looking back.

All the strength drained from Anne’s body, and she sank to the ground where she stood.

A weak autumn breeze blew past her. The commotion in the plaza was far away. She could see Keith and Mithril and Kat walking slowly over to her. But she couldn’t form any thoughts, and she couldn’t stand back up.

Clutching her royal medal tightly to her chest with both hands, she couldn’t move.

A hand was extended before her.

“This won’t do, for a young lady to sit on the ground in a place like this. Your dress will get dirty, you know?”

It was Elliott Collins. He was looking down at her with his winsome, drooping eyes.

“How pitiful it is for you not to know. I am a friend to all women, so let me tell you what happened,” he said.

“Elliott…Collins?”

“In order to get the location of your silver sugar, that fairy gave Bridget his wing.”

His wing…? For my silver sugar…?

While Anne’s mind was reeling from the shock, he continued with a devastating follow-up.

“For your sake,” he said, “that fairy sold his freedom.”

Then Elliott put on a slightly sadistic-looking smile.

“Now, what are you going to do about that, Anne?”