Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 5 - Chapter 7.1

Chapter 7

A CONTEST AGAINST THE SILVER SUGAR VISCOUNT

Challe will protect me.

The earlobe that his lips had touched still tingled. It filled Anne with determination, as if he’d cast a protection charm on her with his kiss.

In his behavior and words, she felt like she detected an emotion akin to love, but she was afraid to believe. If she got her hopes up and was wrong, it would be very painful.

Moreover, Challe’s love was probably closer to a hen’s feelings for its helpless chick. She figured he was just protecting her out of simple kindness, unaware of what kind of feelings she held for him. He would likely find her foolish affection amusing.

Challe’s kindness was reassuring and made Anne incredibly happy. Happy enough that she knew she shouldn’t wish for anything more.

The sun had already gone down, and the workshop had grown dark. She only had until the following morning.

She quickly lit a lamp.

When she did, Mithril, who had been sitting cross-legged on top of her workbench dozing off, opened his eyes.

“Huh, Anne? Gah! It’s dark already?!” Panicking, Mithril stood up and ran over to Anne in confusion. “What have you been doing, Anne? I don’t see your candy sculpture anywhere!”

“That’s right. I’m starting it now.”

Anne rolled up her sleeves and soaked both hands in a cask of cold water. As she did, Mithril scooped up some water from the same cask and set it on the workbench for her. He remembered the process of making candy very well and adeptly lent her a hand. He was a reliable assistant.

Anne pulled her hands out of the cask and added cold water to the silver sugar spread out across the top of her workbench.

She mixed it quickly, and once the water and sugar were combined, she used both hands to start kneading the mixture.

“Mithril Lid Pod. Purple, red, and blue. And also black. And green. Would you please take out all the vials of colored powder that are in those five color families?”

“Roger.”

Mithril quickly set out all the vials of colored powder close to the five shades Anne had listed on top of her workbench. He lined each group up in order for her, from lightest to darkest.

“What are you making, Anne?”

“A crest.”

“A crest? Wow, which one?”

“The Chamber family’s.”

“Oh, really, the Chamber family… Wait, whaaat?! Is that even allowed?! That’s the crest of a family His Majesty the King stamped out completely, right?!

“It’s fine.”

Mithril stared directly into Anne’s eyes, as if to confirm something. But after a moment, he nodded.

“Mm. If that’s what you’ve decided, I guess it’s fine.”

Then he looked at Anne’s hands and ran off in a panic to scoop up more cold water. Mithril came back carrying the water just as she reached out to add more.

Again and again, she kneaded the dough. She was kneading it more meticulously than usual in order to increase the luster of the sugar. The form of what she was creating was already decided, but she wanted to make it look more dignified and divine than it ever had before.

If Noah saw the spirit of his master, Herbert, when he looked at the crest, Anne would try to make it seem like his soul truly resided within her sugar candy.

First, she made the foundation, the shield, about the size of her palm. Next, she kneaded a deep-blue banner to adorn the glossy white shield.

I want to make this blue a very calm color. And the swords should look sharp, so that the metal shines.

She thought about what shade would be good for the purple lion. As she pondered, she mixed her color powders into various hues. She searched for the purple that would go best with the shield, banner, and swords. She made all sorts of purples, from light to dark, and from dull to vivid.

Suddenly, a particular dark-purple color caught her eye. It was lustrous like quartz crystals and had a certain depth to it.

The color of Noah’s eyes?

She compared it to the colors of the swords and the banner and found they set it off nicely. Anne had no doubt that the owner of the crest had been very partial to the fairy with eyes the same color as the crest’s lion. That was probably one of the reasons why he wanted Noah to live on in place of his vanquished crest.

Anne painstakingly constructed the candy’s form with clarity and accuracy.

As soon as she was done with one crest, she started making another. She intended to keep producing them for as long as time allowed. Just one would not be enough. She would make as many as she could to show to Noah.

She hoped then that Noah might understand. That he might see that this crest was not gone. That as long as there were people who remembered it, it would never truly vanish. So Noah needed to live.

When the inside of the room began to grow lighter, Anne finally stopped working.

She had completed fifteen palm-sized crests. It had taken her an awful lot of time.

Creating multiples of the same thing without the slightest mistake had required considerable attentiveness and patience.

She felt like her brain had gone numb. She placed the fifteen crests she had made onto a stone slab and covered them with a piece of cloth. Then letting out a long sigh, she sat on a stool in the corner of the workshop, leaned her head back against the wall, and closed her eyes.

Mithril was also nodding off on top of the workbench.

Before long, the room was completely bright, and the warm aroma of soup drifted in from the kitchen, signaling that preparations for breakfast were underway.

“Are you finished, Anne?”

It seemed Anne had dozed off. Hugh’s voice woke her up.

Hugh was standing with one arm propped against the workshop’s doorframe. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. It looked like he, too, had been working right up until the last minute. There was a sugar candy sculpture sitting at his feet, covered by a cloth. It was sitting atop a stone slab, but it wasn’t all that big. It was only about as tall as an adult’s fist.

Anne and Mithril both quickly stood up.

“Ah, Hugh,” said Anne. “Good morning. Yes, I’m finished.”

Hugh glanced over at her workbench and nodded.

“If we tell Noah that this is a competition,” said Hugh, “he might get strangely stubborn and refuse to eat. I’ve heard that you have been taking pieces of candy to him each morning, yes? Let’s pretend this is a continuation of that, and today, both you and I are simply taking candy to Noah. The two of us will go in together. It sounds like Challe is already in the room as usual, so he will be our witness. Agreed?”

Hugh’s demeanor was unusually severe. This must have been a trivial contest for him. But it was a contest, nonetheless.

“Got it.”

“Then let’s go. Bring your sugar candy.”

Hugh took the candy at his feet and turned his back to Anne. She also picked up her candy in both hands. Mithril looked at her with concern.

“Anne.”

“Here I go.” She smiled to reassure him, then followed Hugh.

Salim, who was always by Hugh’s side, was waiting in the hall. He climbed the stairs after Hugh and Anne, but when they got close to Anne’s room on the second floor of the west wing, he stopped. He must have been instructed to stay there by Hugh.

Once they were standing in front of the door, Hugh knocked confidently. Then without waiting for an answer, he opened the door.

Morning light shone into the interior of the room. In the chilly air, their breaths came out white and translucent in the rays of the sun.

Challe, who had been lying sprawled out on the sofa, sat up.

“Noah. Are you awake?” Hugh asked.

The bulge on the bed squirmed. Noah sat up, using his arms to prop up his body. His cheeks were so pale that he seemed about to dissolve into light, and he had no vitality to him.

“Silver Sugar Viscount?” he asked.

Hugh smiled and approached the bed.

“Good morning, Noah. As we promised yesterday, Anne and I have brought you presents for being so loyal. On the off chance that you feel like eating, you’re welcome to take either of the gifts we’ve brought you.”

At that, Noah looked away apologetically.

“I’m sorry, Silver Sugar Viscount. I can tell from the way they smell; these are sugar candies, aren’t they? But I’m under orders from my master and can’t eat anything other than what he has given me…”

Ignoring Noah’s weak apology, Hugh set his sugar candy on the side table. Then he removed the cloth.

Noah glanced over at it and gasped. He crawled across the bed toward the side table.

“Ah…” He let out a small noise of surprise.

Set before him was a fyffe board and game pieces.

I’ve seen this before.

Anne was sure that she had seen these fyffe pieces in one of the visions that Herbert had shown her. Herbert and Noah had played the game using these pieces. The ones Hugh had made looked exactly the same.

The thirty-two pieces arranged around the board were transfixing in their craftsmanship and number.

There was a dainty floral pattern carved into the crowns and staves of the king pieces, and intricate folds adorned their collars and cloaks. The queen pieces’ skirts fell elegantly like real cloth, and the knights’ lances looked sharp enough to cut. The horses had a tension in their muscles and a luster in their eyes, like they could come alive any moment. But the fairy pieces were the most beautiful. Everywhere along their translucent wings, their glossy red hair, and their delicate fingertips was covered with shining bits like tiny gemstones.

Sixteen of the game pieces, although quite colorful, were all basically white, unifying them as a set. The sixteen pieces on the other side were just as colorful, but they were tied together by a shade of turquoise instead.

The game pieces were full of life, and each one appeared to have a thin halo of light coiled around it.

They were both charming and dazzling. Though they were toys meant to while away delightful hours of play, each piece’s expression was somewhat cruel—the look of someone living in a tiny world of war.

Incredible.

They were only fyffe pieces, and yet they were so alluring. Their luster and light must have been impeccably calculated.

And these were the very pieces from Noah’s memories of Herbert. Hugh had reproduced them splendidly. Anne, who had seen those mysterious visions, was sure of it. But Hugh couldn’t have seen them. So how was he able to do this?

“There was a fyffe board in the lesser hall. I took it upon myself to use it.”

At that, Anne noticed that the board was indeed the real thing.

Noah opened his eyes wide. “You used that?”

“You played your games on it, right?”

At Hugh’s question, Noah’s lip began to tremble, and he nodded weakly.

“It seems that Lord Herbert’s fyffe pieces were plundered and went missing,” Hugh continued. “But the artisan who made them is still alive. His hands are in poor shape, and he’s not capable of such craftsmanship anymore, but he remembered them, and he drew a detailed sketch for me. How do you like them, Noah? Are they the same as the ones that you and Lord Herbert used for your games?”

Noah’s eyes had grown vacant and distant, as if he was yearning for bygone days.

“Yes. These are the pieces that I often used with Master Herbert,” he said. “They’re exactly the same…”

Suddenly, Hugh announced, “Lord Herbert was a fyffe master, you know.”

“Huh?” Noah looked up at him quizzically. “No. That’s not right. Master Herbert wasn’t very good at fyffe—,” he insisted.