Chapter 16
Thanksgiving Festival
I decided to follow Lord Margus’s example and burn the letter.
Of course, I can’t use fire magic like he can, so I did it in the kitchen instead.
As I fed the letter into the hearth, Myuti’s teasing voice came from behind me.
“Ah, madam, looks like you’re starting to learn the customs of this house.”
“That’s right. Since it’s something that won’t benefit this family, I’ll get rid of it quickly.”
“That’s the best way to handle it.”
Myuti has sharp eyes, so she probably noticed the Clarence family crest on the letter over my shoulder.
Yet she still approves of what I’m doing.
Everyone here respects me and lets me do things my own way — that’s why my days have been so pleasant.
Then I thought—
“Not beneficial” doesn’t necessarily mean “harmful,” does it?
If something should be for the family’s benefit, then I have to make sure my being here is a benefit to them.
I still don’t know why I was invited into this household, but at least for now, I’m needed here.
There’s no point moping about; I need to act in ways I can be satisfied with.
But—what exactly is “benefit”?
“Hey, Myuti. Do you know what counts as a benefit to the Browning family?”
Her black eyes sparkled mischievously.
“Of course I do!”
She said it with total confidence, but didn’t elaborate.
“For reference, could you tell me too?”
“In exchange, could tonight’s dinner be fish again?” she said, raising a finger.
Dinner alternated between meat and fish.
But Myuti grew up in the mountains, so fish dishes were still new to her, and she seemed eager to eat them every day.
“If Lord Margus agrees.”
“That’s where you come in, madam! If you ask nicely, maybe we can have fish all week.”
“All right… I’ll try, but don’t expect much. Lord Margus’s health comes first.”
“I’m counting on you. Now then—my answer. The family’s benefit is…”
“Yes?”
She placed a finger to her chin, thinking carefully.
“Well… in short — love and peace.”
“Love and peace?”
That was… quite grand. But Myuti was dead serious. She would never lie to me.
Maybe it was just a difference in how she expressed herself — she came from another country, after all.
“Yes. The master values staying true to the things and feelings he loves.”
When she explained it like that, it started to make a little sense.
“You mean, what Lord Margus loves, he loves — and what he dislikes, he dislikes. So as a household, we should respect his feelings.”
“Exactly. And that goes for you too, Lady Algerita. Be clear about your own opinions.
If someone in the family feels sad or stifled, it throws everything off balance.”
Myuti smiled, showing her white teeth — as if she were holding back a laugh.
“I see. So that’s ‘love.’ What about ‘peace’? You mean literal peace, right?”
“More like harmony within the household,” she said.
No conflicts, no unpredictable dramas.
Lord Margus’s work is difficult — he’s surely endured plenty of hardships — so he deserves to live quietly at home.
That must be what she meant.
“I see. So that means Polka shouldn’t be causing a ruckus.”
“Well, that’s part of it,” she admitted.
“In other words, as long as Polka isn’t loud, no problems arise, and I’m not sulking, then we’re good.”
“Exactly! So if you already know that, why not act that way from the start?”
“I don’t sulk.”
“Really?”
“…All right, I do. But lately, I’ve been feeling a bit bold.”
“Oh? In what way?”
“This morning, I had plums in addition to apples. And at lunch, I made my tea twice as strong.
That’s my secret.”
Myuti let out an exaggerated sigh.
“Ahh, fine. Still, choosing not to indulge even when you can — that’s its own kind of luxury, isn’t it?
Like a hobby.”
I found her words insightful. Maybe living simply had become my own little hobby.
“I never thought about it that way. You’re very thoughtful.”
“Well, the village chief chose me — and my brother — as the brightest young ones to send here.
Our mission is to learn as much as possible and bring it back home.”
Myuti puffed out her slender chest proudly.
They really were admirable — so focused on their future.
I, meanwhile, was barely managing to understand myself at all.
“You’re amazing.”
“Which is why, to deepen our learning, I’d like you, madam, to be more proactive in your ‘madam duties.’”
“All right, all right — fish dishes, right?”
“That too. But more importantly, as a member of the Browning family — what would benefit you, madam?”
“Benefit… me?”
“Yes. I’m your attendant, after all. So tell me — what do you want to do? Or what don’t you want to do? I’ll help either way.”
Even if I admitted I didn’t know myself — I truly didn’t know.
Not so long ago, I had a clear future in mind:
Work for a few years, marry William, leave my job to raise a family…
Have children, raise them, and grow old together.
I never doubted that path.
But that dream collapsed easily. I told myself it couldn’t be helped — and then, suddenly, Lord Margus appeared in my life.
Honestly, my life now is… enjoyable.
I’m utterly relieved I never married William.
I do miss the dragon riders’ village, but life here is so easy that I sometimes fear I’m tempting fate.
All I really wish for… is for things to stay as they are.
“Perhaps… that Lord Margus, who’s been so kind to me, continues to live happily?”
“Hmm, I see. Happier than now, you mean. That’s quite the challenge.”
Yes, it was an enormous goal.
But Lord Margus is an admirable man — someone destined to carry this country’s future.
As both his wife and a citizen, I must do my part to make him happy.
“You’re right. It won’t be easy.”
“Why are you talking like it’s someone else’s problem? Let’s find out together — what makes the master happy.”
I blinked at her. Such a vague mission!
“Think about it — even if you do nothing, just thinking of him makes him happy. Congratulations, madam — you’ve found your job!”
Myuti clasped her hands together and smiled brightly.
But even with that encouragement, nothing came to mind.
“Let’s see… something that brings him joy without getting in the way…”
Keep the house spotless — already done.
Keep Polka clean — also done.
Cook delicious food — Myuti’s department.
Still… that last idea might work. Even if I failed, I could take responsibility myself.
Cooking… something I could make well…
No, maybe I should approach from the “peace” side.
Peace, food, gratitude…
“I’ve got it!”
“Eh?”
I clapped my hands together. Myuti looked startled — clearly not expecting me to have an actual idea.
“I’ve thought of something good. Let’s bake Thanksgiving bread!”
Myuti’s surprise faded into resignation.
“…Why bread? We have plenty of soft bread from the bakery, and more arriving tomorrow.
Today’s bread must be eaten today.”
“The Thanksgiving Festival is a traditional national holiday for peace and gratitude.
Each household bakes its own bread—”
“I know that. You mean those rock-hard loaves they eat with sanctified water, right?”
“Exactly! I’m impressed — you’ve only been in this country a year and already know our customs.
It’s a little early in the season, but let’s celebrate this year’s anyway.”
Lord Margus is a patriotic man.
If we hold the festival here, it’ll be a wonderful way to share the culture with Rakthis and Myuti — and Lord Margus himself can join us. It’ll surely be fun.
“No way.”
Myuti raised her hand — the gesture for “refusal.”
“Why not? You came here to learn new things, didn’t you? It won’t hurt.”
“It won’t hurt intellectually, but I can’t bring myself to eat hard survival bread when I can eat soft, fluffy loaves.
Even if the master agrees, my brother and I will abstain. Two votes to two — a tie.”
“Oh come on, won’t you help for the family’s sake?”
“I just want something tasty. Today I’ve decided on sole meunière — with a sauce rich in milk and butter, and soft bread to soak it up.
Hard bread won’t absorb the sauce.”
“Well, it does have a rustic charm once you get used to it… But I suppose forcing you isn’t right.”
Indeed, it would just be me imposing my will.
So I asked for ingredients and began kneading the dough alone in the kitchen — when Lord Margus appeared in the doorway.
“Stockpiling rations? Planning a mountain hike?”
The ingredients for Thanksgiving bread are simple; he must have realized immediately I wasn’t making anything extravagant.
“I’m making Thanksgiving bread.”
“Ah. How admirable.”
Just like Myuti said, I thought, smiling to myself.
“Yes. Love and peace are what matter most, after all.”
At my words, Lord Margus tilted his head slightly.
Apparently, those weren’t household mottos after all.
“If that’s what you believe, then so it shall be. May I help?”
“You, my lord — baking bread?”
“I’m good at camp cooking. When you’re lost or being pursued, you can’t rely on others.”
“Forgive my doubt.”
He stood beside me, solemnly flattening dough and pressing decorative patterns into it.
It was such a strange sight — almost dreamlike.
“I’ve never made this myself before. You seem skilled. Do you do this every year?”
“Yes, every year at home.”
“I see.”
He seemed a little surprised.
Despite appearances, the Clarence family cared deeply about outward appearances — they participated in every social festival and custom.
We made Thanksgiving bread every year, though no one but me ever ate it.
They said it was too hard, too tasteless — so I ate all of it myself, just to keep up the pretense.
We placed the shaped dough into the hearth to bake.
After setting aside what we’d eat today, I planned to bake the rest again to harden it for long-term storage.
As we silently watched the fire, I remembered my time in the dragon riders’ village.
Dragons would eat almost anything, but Welfin, my bonded dragon, especially loved bits of bread I brought him.
“Not bad.”
Lord Margus picked up a piece of freshly baked bread and tasted it.
The dough was plain and firm, but fresh from the oven, even that was delicious.
“You’re quite something.”
“It’s not my skill.”
“No — this is far better than what I had as a child.”
Curious, I tried a piece myself.
Indeed, it was much tastier than when I’d made it alone.
Maybe because of better ingredients — or because he praised me.
“When I was young, this was our punishment food,” he said. “If I misbehaved, my grandfather made me eat this instead of dinner. He was a strict man.”
He took another bite.
“Even you, Lord Margus? You were such a good boy!”
“I was only called ‘good’ a few times in my life. They said I was stubborn, difficult, and oddly shy in strange ways — just like my grandfather.”
“I don’t think that at all. You’re a kind person.”
“Then I’ll do my best to stay that way.”
He bit into the bread again with a crack.
“I hated it back then — so much that I’d sneak pieces to the house’s dragon.
He was so happy eating it that I forgot I was being punished and felt like I was doing a good deed.”
I smiled at the memory — dragons everywhere, it seemed, shared the same love of bread.
