Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I sensed pleasure in Clerivan’s expression as he brushed the wood shavings from his clothes.

There was a brief silence in the classroom. The children, myself included, blinked in bewilderment as we glanced back and forth between the log and Clerivan.

Bellezac was the first to break the silence.

“We... are supposed to sell that?” he asked with a frown, sitting up for the first time in the lesson.

“Yes, that’s correct. Your homework is to sell this log and bring the money back to class,” Clerivan replied, the odd smile still plastered across his face.

“You may use any method to sell it. You can chop it into smaller pieces. You can even burn it,” he continued.

In other words, we could use any means necessary as long as we managed to make money.

I was just as stumped as the others.

As Clerivan had mentioned, it was just a log, nothing special about it. Despite the log being from not-too-dense dense wood, I knew I wouldn’t even be able to lift it.

It was also such an ordinary item that the only likely buyer would be someone who needed firewood.

I was deep in thought, when...

“However, you cannot use your status to force a sale. You must sell this log to someone who needs it.”

“Hmph...”

When Clerivan mentioned the conditions, Mayron and Giliou both let out a small grunt. The clearly disappointed twins lowered their heads in unison.

Huh, what was their plan?

While I eyed them with suspicion, Lorraine had been quietly listening to Clerivan. She raised her hand cautiously.

“Um...”

“Yes, Miss Lorraine. Go ahead.”

“Do we have to carry these out... ourselves?”

Her face turned bright red as she asked the question.

“Don’t worry about that. This is just for display. A log has already been delivered to each of your houses.”

“Oh, whew!”

Lorraine smiled, obviously relieved that she wouldn’t have to lug the heavy log around. A pretty little dimple appeared on her cheek.

While I was admiring Lorraine, who looked as lovely as a lily, a grumpy voice interrupted my thoughts.

“I don’t want to.”

I didn’t need to look to identify the speaker. It was Bellezac’s sulky voice.

“Why would I have to do such a thing?” he continued bluntly.

The pleasure drained from Clerivan’s eyes, though he was still smiling. “What do you mean by ‘such a thing,’ Bellezac?” he asked.

“Why should I be selling things? That’s what servants are for. Why should I do it?” Bellezac grumbled.

“Why do you think this work is for servants?”

“That’s what Mom said. Handling money is vulgar work.”

I chuckled because of course Selal would say something like that. Selal, a noble through and through, was raised in one of the Lehmbruck Empire’s most illustrious families.

In the past, being concerned about money or direct involvement in financial transactions had been considered unbecoming for a noble. But those were the old days.

The other nobles had been shocked when the Lombardi family used commerce and the strength of money to rise to power. One by one, noble families realized the power of wealth and began to actively engage in commerce, setting up merchant guilds and lending practices.

Even the Angenas family, who had held out the longest, eventually created the Dyurak Merchant Guild to extend their reach into the textile market. I recalled the Dyurak Guild’s visit to the Lombardi estate to seek assistance around its launch.

Yet, here was Bellezac, a descendant of the same Angenas family, complaining about being asked to understand the world of commerce.

“In that case, I have no other choice,” Clerivan said with regret. “I have no choice but to give you a failing grade.”

“A failing grade?!” Bellezac muttered as his face turned beet red. “What do you mean a failing grade?”

“I really have no other choice. The task is to sell an item, but if you can’t sell an item, that would be a failure,” Clerivan replied calmly.

“Then you can change the assignment! The whole problem is you giving us homework that is wrong to begin with!” Bellezac argued.

“Is that so? Understood.”

Clerivan neither showed anger nor tried to explain further. He simply turned away and addressed the rest of us.

“You may keep the money you earn from selling the log. The student who earns the most money will get a reward, so do your best.”

Bellezac, feeling completely excluded, stormed out of the classroom. He slammed the door behind him, but no one really seemed to care.

I stepped closer to examine the log.

“Hmm.”

I took a closer look at the wood, wondering if I might be missing something, but it really was just an ordinary log. I squatted in front of it, poking its rough bark and thinking furiously.

Clerivan had mentioned that we could use any method we wanted.

A log... How can one use a log...?

I would barely get anything for it as is. It would need to be processed.

At that moment, I remembered something.

Right, that one person.

There was someone who could transform a crude log into a work of art.

And that person was here on the estate.

***

The room that my father and I shared was more of an apartment than a room. Though it had just a single entrance, it was connected to a living room that served as a reception area with four adjacent rooms.

Our apartment was much smaller than the homes of my father’s siblings, but it was perfectly adequate for us.

Except for days like today, when my father scattered his books all over the reception area.

I was surprised to find such a mess when I came out of my room. My father, however, was so engrossed in what he was doing that he hadn’t even noticed me.

Carefully stepping over the books scattered across the floor, I approached my father, who was diligently drawing once again.

“Daddy...?”

“Oh, Tia, you’re back,” my father said, glancing up and smiling brightly at the sound of my voice.

“Are you busy?” I asked.

“No, of course not,” he said, quickly pushing his drawings aside.

Despite being engrossed in his work, he didn’t seem bothered by my interruption. Instead, he pulled me into a tight hug.

“Actually, Daddy, I have a favor to ask.”

“Oh, a favor from Tia? Of course I’ll help.”

“Well... Can you draw me something.”

“Draw?” My father repeated curiously. “Sure. What kind of drawing? A flower? A tree? Or a cute animal?”

“Grandmother’s face.”

“Grandmother’s... face?”

Father blinked in surprise at my unusual request.

“Yes. I’m curious what she was like,” I replied.

My grandmother had passed away a few years before I was born. I’d seen her face in portraits a few times, but that was the extent of my knowledge.

My father scratched his cheek and picked up the sketchbook he had pushed aside.

“Well... it’s been a very long time since I last saw her. I don’t remember her all that well.”

Despite this disclaimer, the graphite in his hand danced across the blank page. I sat quietly, watching in awe.

For a while, the pencil’s soft scratching was the only sound in the room.

“This is what she looked like,” he said, revealing his sketch with a flourish.

“Wow!”

My exclamation was genuine. I couldn’t help but be amazed at the completed drawing.

My father’s memory showed my grandmother with a kind smile. A few light wrinkles surrounded her eyes, and their gentle downward curve at the corners resembled my father’s.

Even though the portrait was drawn in simple black lines, I could feel the affection towards her son through her eyes.

“Your grandmother was such a kind person,” father said wistfully.

He stroked the edge of the paper gently with his thumb a few times before carefully tearing out the page and handing it to me.

“But why do you suddenly want a picture of her, Tia?”

“Well, there’s someone I want to show it to.”

“You want to show someone…?”

I could see more questions written across my father’s face, but I rolled the paper up and hopped off the chair.

“I’m just going out for a bit, I’ll be back soon!”

“Hmm? Outside?” he repeated absently.

My father seemed taken aback, but he gathered his parental instincts as I opened the door and dashed out.

“Be careful not to trip and fall!” he called out to my retreating back

I won’t trip, Father.

I’m not a little kid anymore!

***

My father may have foreseen the future.

*Thud*

“Ack!”

I had been skipping towards my destination when my foot unexpectedly caught on a rock. With all the strength and balance a seven-year-old could muster, I planted my other foot to avoid falling, but the pouch that was tied to my waist fell to the ground.

Oh no, my snack pouch!

One of the candies rolled out of the poorly closed pouch. Fortunately, it didn’t pick up much dirt, so I picked it up and blew on it to clean it off.

No one’s watching, so what does it matter?

Satisfied that there was no visible dirt, I popped it into my mouth.

“Eek!”

What was that sound?

I glanced around and saw two small heads duck behind a wall. The heads looked familiar.

“Come out,” I called towards them, but there was no response. Just silence.

“Giliou. Mayron.”

When I called their names, the duo finally emerged and approached me.

Their expressions were odd, though. Giliou stared intently while Mayron seemed somewhat restless and uneasy.

“You ate something that fell on the ground.”

“We’re supposed to throw things away if they touch the ground.”

Ah, so they did see me.

“Why? What... What’s the big deal?”

Getting caught eating candy off the ground was embarrassing, but I decided to stick with confidence.

“You’ll die from that, Tia.”

“Let’s go to Doctor O’Malley, Tia.”

The twins each grabbed an arm and tried to pull me with them.

“People don’t die from eating something off the ground,” I argued, struggling to break free.

Annoying kids.

I changed the subject before they could continue.

“Why are you two following me?”

“Well, that’s...”

The twins suddenly seemed at a loss for words.

“If you have nothing to say, I’m leaving. Goodbye.”

I didn’t have time to waste. I had places to be.

“We want to come too!” Mayron cried urgently as I turned to leave.

“You don’t even know where I’m going,” I replied.

“No, but we’re sure it’ll be fun!”

“Yeah! Tia does fun things!”

Are they teasing me?

One thing was clear. Even if I told them not to follow, they weren’t going to listen.

“Fine,” I relented, “but don’t get in my way. I’m busy.”

“Got it!”

“We’ll be quiet!”

The twins nodded with adorably identical smiles. They had shown glimpses of handsomeness from a young age.

I resumed my path towards my original destination. Although I tried to walk quickly, my legs were still too short to move as fast as I wanted.

“So where are we going?” asked Giliou, walking leisurely as I panted heavily.

“You’ll see when I get there.”

Ugh, this is exhausting.

Luckily, the person I was looking for wasn’t too far away.

Among the Lombardi estate’s many large buildings, one of the liveliest areas was on the outskirts. This small village had a completely different atmosphere from the main residences, where we lived.

“W-wow! Where are we? I didn’t even know this place existed!” the twins exclaimed, unable to contain their amazement.

“This is where the Lombardis’ resident employees and their families live,” I explained, proudly wiping the sweat off my chin. “Now we just have to ask around and find him.”

I was looking for a late-blooming, genius sculptor who, in my past life, had blossomed at the age of thirty. This local artist would eventually sculpt a bust for the emperor.

Right now, the sixteen-year-old Alfeo Zane had to be somewhere around here.