Chapter 8
Only after seeing that expression did Bianna finally leave Prim lying on the floor and flee outside as if running away.
Prim remained frozen for a moment, then let out a sigh. Putting strength into her arms, she barely managed to climb back onto the chair. The empty box lay on the floor, but she no longer had the energy to pick it up. The arm she had strained trembled slightly.
The children returned carrying armfuls of wild raspberries. Those who bit into the still-unripe, sour ones screwed up their faces and flailed their arms, while those who ate the sweet ones beamed with delight.
“Prim? Did you drop this?”
“Huh? Ah… yeah. I must’ve done it by accident.”
Rosien, who had brought the raspberries in a wooden bowl, picked up the box of violet candies from the floor and looked around.
“Why’s your hand like that?”
The spot where the splinter had pierced her was red.
“Oh, I’m not sure. I guess I scratched it somehow.”
Rosien’s expression vanished for a brief moment, then returned to normal. Grinning brightly, he said,
“Here, wild raspberries. We picked a whole lot, so you can eat them even tomorrow.”
The freshly picked raspberries sparkled translucently, like tiny rubies. Prim thought it would be nice if she could preserve them by making jam.
But in such poverty, sugar was a precious commodity—there was no room for making jam now.
Sitting side by side on the bed, popping the sweet-and-sour raspberries into their mouths, Rosien suddenly spoke as if something had just occurred to him.
“By the way, Bianna was the only one who didn’t come to pick raspberries.”
“…Oh. Was she?”
“Where did Bianna go?”
Feeling awkward for no reason, Prim stuffed a raspberry into her mouth and mumbled that she didn’t know. Rosien simply swung his legs and enjoyed the raspberries with her, not pressing the matter any further.
“This place is always so remote every time I come. Priest, if you don’t have the means, shouldn’t you stop running an orphanage? I’m saying this for your own good. The children suffer, you suffer—honestly.”
After greeting the orphans and returning to the office, the moment the door closed, the baroness spoke in a tone of feigned sympathy.
“I’m doing my best within my means,” Priest Marceria replied.
“And to think there’s still a Temple of Barin here—I only realized it after coming. I even said, ‘Who was Barin again?’”
The baroness covered her mouth with her fan, her face full of pity.
Priest Marceria forced a smile. Without the money from selling a recommendation for the perfumer qualification exam, and without the donation the baron and baroness had readily offered, it would have been difficult to survive the winter.
Barin, please forgive my silence….
While Marceria briefly murmured this inwardly, the baron—who had been quietly watching the children huddled together outside the window—finally spoke.
“That’s why I wanted to say this. We’d like to adopt a child now, Priest.”
Priest Marceria’s face lit up. They had been visiting for years now.
“Oh, Barin be praised! Is that truly so? Barin himself will commend your charity. Then Biann—”
The baron cut him off with a lazy smile.
“Prim would be good.”
“Pardon?”
Priest Marceria asked in confusion. The baron tilted his head, as if the priest’s surprise made even less sense to him.
“What’s the matter, Priest?”
“Well, um… what about Bianna? I had thought the two of you were quite fond of Bianna.”
Marceria knew how much Bianna had awaited the baron and baroness’s visits.
Hadn’t they subtly hinted that they might take Bianna as their daughter?
Of course, since Prim had arrived at the orphanage, he knew the couple’s attention had focused solely on Prim, but still…
“That child wasn’t bad. But how should I put it—she’s too sly. Every time I see her trying so hard to please us, it gives me chills.”
In that instant, a deep wound opened in Marceria’s chest.
Why do you think she tried so hard to please you? That’s because…
“Priest, just because we go around doing good deeds doesn’t mean we’re fools. We can see through children’s tricks easily enough.”
The baron lectured him, and the baroness raised one eyebrow and asked in a tone of disbelief,
“Don’t tell me, Priest—you only care about Bianna, and as for Prim, who hasn’t been here long, you think she can be adopted later or something?”
“What? No, no, of course not! What are you saying?”
“Are you getting angry at us right now?”
“That’s not it…”
Swallowing hard, Priest Marceria hurriedly explained.
“Of course I cherish that child too. I’m very—very happy that such a good opportunity has come to Prim. But Prim is… well, she and Rosien are practically siblings…”
“Oh my, Priest! Don’t even say such outrageous things. I only overlook that ill-omened red-haired boy out of respect for you. Isn’t he of beast-blood? No matter how clean-cut he looks, it’s just creepy. Isn’t that all just to bewitch humans?”
“That’s a common misconception. Red hair has absolutely nothing to do with beastfolk…”
“Enough. We only need Prim from you.”
Watching the couple speak of a child as something to be “given,” Priest Marceria struggled to keep the smile on his face.
Even after the baron and baroness left, the orphanage remained somewhat unsettled until the next day.
Priest Marceria spent the entire day pacing, and only when night fell did he finally seat Prim in front of him and bring it up.
“This time… those two said they want to adopt you.”
Prim recalled how the baron and baroness had looked only at her until the very end, and how Bianna, spying on them, had finally broken down in tears.
What was bound to happen had come.
“Priest.”
“Yes, Prim. Go on.”
If she said she didn’t want to go, Marceria would not send her away.
He would even refuse the sponsorship money that adopting families offered—just as he had in her past life.
“I… I’ve actually found a dream.”
“A dream? What kind of dream?”
Though it sounded out of place in the middle of an adoption discussion, Priest Marceria listened intently.
Prim spoke carefully, one word at a time.
“I want to become a perfumer. I want to become a perfumer and offer fragrances to Barin.”
“My goodness! Barin will be so pleased! Yes, Prim, you have talent. You’ve always been able to identify every scent, haven’t you?”
“So, Priest, I’d like to apply for the upcoming perfumer qualification exam.”
Marceria, who had been excited about the future dream of the child he was raising, felt awkward as he listened to Prim’s calm plan. His arms slowly dropped, and he cupped his cheek.
“Ah… that perfumer exam is…”
There was no age limit, but for Prim to take such an exam—wasn’t she far too young?
Even if she took the next exam, she would only be eleven years old.
But before that worry could fully take shape, Prim spoke first.
“They say Baron Corvas’s villa has an amazing perfumery. He said I could use it if I wanted. So what if I practice there and take the perfumer exam next year?”
Even as she spoke, Prim felt a little tense. She knew it sounded rather far-fetched.
The only thing resembling talent she had shown while here was sorting out spoiled ingredients. Aside from her current determination, she had proven nothing.
Yet Priest Marceria smiled gently.
“Yes, that will do! Then I’ll come fetch you when it’s time to take the exam.”
The perfumer exam was administered by Luminoxia Ayla, and required both a recommendation letter from the local diocese and the accompanying priest.
Even a poor and insignificant diocese, as long as it had a temple, had the authority to issue such a recommendation. That was why Marceria had secretly sold those letters until now.
Once a year, after selling a recommendation, he wouldn’t have to worry about bread for the orphans for quite some time.
Even though a guaranteed source of income was suddenly disappearing, Priest Marceria kept smiling.
“I’m so happy to think that a great perfumer might come from our diocese.”
Prim smiled faintly.
She hadn’t brought up her dream of becoming a perfumer only to honestly share her aspirations with Priest Marceria.
Now Marceria would tell the Corvas couple: that Prim planned to take the perfumer exam, and that he would soon come to fetch her for it.
If so, at the very least, until the perfumer exam drew near, Baron and Baroness Corvas would not do anything rash.
