Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 4 - Chapter 4.1

Chapter 4

ONCE AGAIN, GOING AFTER THE PRIZE

As soon as Challe entered Anne’s room, Mithril Lid Pod sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes over and over again. Then as soon as he was sure Challe wasn’t an illusion, his vision blurred, and he burst out crying, tears running down his face. Then he jumped off the bed and leaped across the room. He threw his arms around Challe’s neck.

“Challe Fenn Challe—!!”

Challe grabbed the bawling Mithril by the collar and pulled him away.

“Stop it. You’re annoying.”

“Why are you here?! Did you get your wing back?!”

Anne explained in simple terms the events that had transpired since dawn that morning, while Challe held the sniffling Mithril pinched between his fingers.

Once she did, Mithril burst into tears again.

“So for the time being, you can walk free, right?! You must have had a terrible time, Challe Fenn Challe! What horrible things did that woman force you to do?! This, that, and the other thing?!”

Challe frowned, looking irritated.

“You need to do something about your ridiculous fantasies.”

Challe had not yet recovered his wing. But Anne was still happy that this turn of events had brought him back to her side. She looked at Mithril, who was trying to hug Challe even after he had been declared a nuisance, and naturally smiled for the first time in a while.

“But who could have stolen Challe Fenn Challe’s wing from that woman and gone out of their way to take it to the maestro?”

Mithril had finally calmed down and was sitting on Challe’s shoulder, which he rarely did. He was still being clingy and touching Challe’s hair and his cheek. Challe swatted him away like he would a fly, brushing him off with an irritated wave of his hand.

Mithril’s question was understandable; Anne found it curious, too.

“I wonder who it was? Bridget said no one knew about that hiding place.”

“It doesn’t matter. Regardless of who has it, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s in human hands,” Challe asserted coldly.

When Anne looked at his expression, she could hardly stand it. Even if she thought of fairies as her friends, other people were different. Everyone had their own opinions and principles, and Anne couldn’t force her ideas on them. Nonetheless, she wished she could get them to understand somehow.

Challe took a seat on the windowsill and turned his gaze outside. Then his expression slightly changed. He seemed displeased, as there were deep creases between his eyebrows.

“Looks like they’re here.”

“Who?”

Anne walked over to Challe’s side and peered out the window. A small single-horse carriage was visible on the road that ran from the bottom of the hill to Millsfield. Two men were riding on it. Without a doubt, they had to be Marcus Radcliffe, the maestro of the Radcliffe Workshop, and Keith.

“Ah! I’ve got to go downstairs and get ready. Keith is here!”

With a smile, Anne looked at Challe. But he didn’t look pleased at all.

“Challe? Keith is coming, you know? Aren’t you happy? You must want to see him.”

“Are you dumb? Why would I be happy because that boy is coming here? I have no need to see him,” he said curtly and turned his face away.

“Oh, really? Well, how about you, Mithril Lid Pod?”

“He helped you, Anne, so I’ll go see him before he leaves. But at least right now, I have to talk about all sorts of things with Challe Fenn Challe! Like, what sort of terrible things did Bridget make him do? And did you do them? Tell me all about it and don’t spare any details!”

“Knock it off with the fantasies.”

Even though she felt disappointed by the fairies’ poor reactions, Anne went down to Glen’s room on the first floor.

Earlier, Glen had been on the verge of another seizure. But apparently, it hadn’t been that serious. He was now calm and even able to hold a conversation.

Glen, Elliott, and Anne would be attending to Marcus Radcliffe and Keith during their visit. Their guest was the maestro of one of the candy factions. Etiquette dictated that Elliott, the proxy maestro, and Anne, the head candy crafter, go out and greet them.

Marcus and Keith had apparently arrived in Millsfield the night before, just as the sun was setting. It had taken a while for them to find lodging, and by the time they were settled in at an inn, it was late and would have been rude to stop by someone’s house. So in the morning, they had sent a letter with the young man who delivered milk from the Millsfield town center, informing Glen that they would be visiting sometime that morning.

“They’ve already reached the bottom of the hill.”

When Anne reported this to Glen, who was lying in bed, he looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

“A sickbed visit, huh? I suppose word has spread that I’m in poor health.”

“Maybe it’s reconnaissance now that Anne is here? So they can figure out what we’re thinking and what we’re planning to do. Also, the younger Powell is making his debut,” Elliott said in his usual lighthearted manner.

“Edward’s son?” Glen muttered nostalgically.

Keith’s father—Edward Powell, the former Silver Sugar Viscount—had been affiliated with the Paige Workshop. Glen and Edward had spent their training days together.

“Oh, look,” Elliott said, raising an eyebrow. “Here they are now.”

There was noise outside. Before long, Marcus and Keith entered the room, guided by Danna. Both were dressed in traveling attire, wearing long overcoats and holding hats in their hands.

Marcus bowed silently to Elliott and Anne. Keith did the same, then gave a small smile just for Anne. She smiled back.

“Pardon the intrusion, Paige.”

Marcus looked at Glen lying there, and his solemn face became even more grim.

“It’s been a long time, Mr. Radcliffe. Please pardon my rudeness. I nearly had another episode this morning, and there’s no way I can get up,” Glen said.

“No, I don’t mind. Don’t worry about it… Actually…you seem fitter than the rumors suggest.”

Marcus seemed somewhat surprised by Glen’s weakened state. Looking concerned, he offered some awkward words of consolation. Glen smiled bitterly.

“Thank you for saying so. Did you come here today for a sickbed visit?”

“Well, that and various other matters. I heard the newest Silver Sugar Master had started working here, you see. It’s rare for the Paige Workshop to employ an outside candy crafter who hasn’t worked their way up through the workshop,” Marcus said, then glanced at Anne. “Does accepting a new crafter when the Selection for the First Holy Festival is near mean that you’ll be participating this year?”

The Selection for the First Holy Festival?

The Selection is part of the festival put on by the state church to celebrate the New Year. On New Year’s Eve, for good fortune to visit the kingdom in the coming year, prayers are held simultaneously at every state church throughout the land. The king himself visits the Church of Saint Lewiston Bell. It is a unique ritual, during which the whole country celebrates together.

“Certainly not. My father refused every year,” Glen said dismissively.

Marcus nodded in relief at his answer.

“Well, I thought that might be the case, but… Also, I brought Powell’s son with me.”

When introduced, Keith stood by the side of the bed. He seemed a little nervous.

“I’m Keith Powell.”

“You’ve turned into quite a good candy crafter, or so I’ve heard.”

“I…I’m sorry.”

Keith hung his head remorsefully and apologized for some reason.

“It’s fine. It’s nothing to worry about. You were free to choose.”

Glen responded without any apparent criticism, then shifted his gaze over to Anne.

“Mr. Radcliffe, Elliott, and I will talk for a bit now. Anne, take Keith to the parlor and offer him some refreshments.”

Anne curtsied slightly and took Keith with her when she left the room. They moved away from Glen’s chambers and into the parlor.

As soon as they entered the space, Anne breathed a sigh of relief and came to a halt, then turned around to face Keith, who’d been following her silently.

“Keith! You surprised me; the notice of your visit was so sudden.”

When she said that, Keith, who had also been on his best behavior, flashed his usual mellow smile.

“It’s not like it was my decision. We’re here because Marcus suddenly said he was gonna visit. I was curious about how you were getting on, so I came with him. You’re not having any trouble, are you? And is everything with Challe all right?”

“A lot of things have happened, but he’s fine. How’s the situation over there? How’s Kat doing? And did Jonas ever come back?”

“The work of refining the silver sugar is over, so Mr. Hingley went back to his own shop. It sounds like Jonas didn’t return to his hometown. They haven’t been able to get in touch with him yet, apparently.”

“I see…”

There was little that Anne could do for Jonas now. The only thing she could do was pray for good fortune to visit him.

“Anyway, why did Marcus suddenly come to Millsfield?”

“Because you went to the Paige Workshop, I guess. It seems he’s concerned the Paige Workshop might participate in the Selection for the First Holy Festival. It’s just like Marcus to worry about something like that.”

“The Selection for the First Holy Festival? What is that?”

Keith looked surprised.

“You don’t know?”

“No, I don’t. Ah, but before that, I’ll get the tea.”

Anne was about to go into the kitchen, when Keith gently grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“It’s fine. We had a huge breakfast at the inn, and I’m still full. Instead of tea, I’d like to take a walk outside since I came all the way to the Strand region. As soon as our visit is over, we have to set off for Lewiston.”

In instances like this, it was obvious that Keith came from nobility. No commoner would ever say they wanted to take a walk because they were in the Strand region. The only people who would ever think of the area as a place to go to enjoy the atmosphere and scenery were aristocrats.

But Anne also liked being outdoors better than being inside. In Anne’s case, however, it was because she had spent her whole life on the road since she’d been born and wasn’t used to the indoors.

The two of them went outside and walked toward the small lake at the base of the hill. A gravel path led to the lake and was just wide enough for them to walk abreast. They were close enough for their shoulders to touch, and it seemed strange to walk behind the other, so they continued on, side by side. The withered, dry grass rustled on either side of them.

“So you don’t know about the Selection for the First Holy Festival, huh, Anne? You’ve never spent the New Year in Lewiston before?”

A chilly breeze blew down from the top of the hill. Anne rubbed her arms. Keith saw, and he draped his own coat, which he’d been carrying over his arm, across Anne’s shoulders without saying a word. When she thanked him, he immediately told her not to worry about it.

Keith seemed to be naturally considerate. Anne was comfortable with his attention, because she didn’t have any particular feelings for him one way or another.

“I did last year for the first time, but—”

“Did you go to the First Holy Festival at the Church of Saint Lewiston Bell?”

“Uh-huh. There was an incredible crowd around the church, and I got fed up with waiting and went back to the inn. When I asked the innkeeper about it, she told me that there was a display of amazing sugar candies inside the church for the First Holy Festival, and everyone was going to see them. When I heard that, I regretted passing it up and went out again to see them, but the doors of the church were already closed, and I couldn’t get in.”

“Those sugar candies are amazing. They fill a huge altar and all the space around it. It’s quite a spectacle. Every year, the main studio of one of the three candy factions gets a contract to produce all the sugar candy. In order to determine which one will make the candy, each workshop produces samples to show to the clergy at the Church of Saint Lewiston Bell. Then the clergy choose which workshop will make the sugar candy for that year’s First Holy Festival. That’s the ‘selection’ part.”

“That must be quite the honor.”

“That’s not all. If the workshop can deliver the goods for the First Holy Festival without issue, the state church pays them almost ten thousand cress.”

“Ten thousand cress?! That’s unbelievable!”

That amount could pay off all the Paige Workshop’s debts. It was just what one would expect from the state church.

“On top of that, the workshop chosen for that year—their sugar candy becomes very popular. People expect a lot even from the subsidiary studios, so sales increase across the whole faction. That’s why Marcus is so worried about it. I’m helping make our pieces for the Selection, too, so I’m anxious as well. The Radcliffe Workshop hasn’t been selected in a while now. Ever since Hugh Mercury—the Silver Sugar Viscount—became maestro of the Mercury Workshop five years ago, they’ve been chosen every time. The fact that they’ve been selected five years in a row has had a huge impact, and because of it, the Mercury Workshop became popular and grew into the largest faction.”

Anne tilted her head.

“But Glen said we’re not taking part in the Selection, despite all the benefits. Why?”

“The Paige Workshop stopped participating in the Selection during the time of the previous maestro. Though, I don’t know the reason why.”

Just then, they heard voices from the direction of the lake.

“It’s spilling. You’re spilling it. Get it together, Valentine!”

“You’re holding it too high! Lower it more—just above the ground should do, shouldn’t it? Why are your arms so damn strong anyway?!”

“Don’t whine like a weakling when you’re six years older than me. Men are supposed to be strong, right?”

“Are you planning on becoming a lumberjack or something?!”

Anne and Keith looked over and saw Nadir and Valentine carrying a barrel full of cold water.

Near the lake was a well where clear, cold water sprang from the ground. The water they used to make sugar candies was always carried up from that well.

Anne and Keith approached them while the two candy crafters were still yelling at each other. But as soon as Nadir and Valentine noticed them, they simultaneously shut their mouths tightly and stopped in their tracks.

“Ah, um…pardon us. We have a guest?”

Nadir stared at Keith in apparent curiosity, and although Valentine’s cheeks were turning red, he was obliged to bow deeply enough for himself and Nadir.

“Hey, hey! Nadir. A greeting. Greet them,” Valentine whispered.

Nadir gave a pleasant smile.

“Are you Anne’s boyfriend?” he asked.

“N-no!! That’s completely wrong! And very rude to Keith,” Anne shouted.

Behind her, Keith smiled softly.

“I really don’t mind that much.”

“Hey, hey, hey! Nadir!”

After Nadir’s abrupt question, Valentine pulled on his ear.

“Oww! So who are you?”

“I’m Anne’s friend—Keith Powell, a candy crafter with the main studio of the Radcliffe Workshop,” Keith answered.

The moment he heard that name, all emotion disappeared from Valentine’s face.

“You’re Powell! Hmm, I see!” Nadir shouted in surprise.

He stared at Keith with even greater interest. Valentine, on the other hand, averted his eyes and picked up the barrel again.