ATP 8

Chapter 8

✠

Countess Sandra Gillette of the Gillette family was infamous among the servants for being a difficult mistress.

Originally a commoner, Sandra had caught the eye of the Count and risen in status, yet her tastes and temperament were so fastidious that she could have been mistaken for a lady of a grand noble house from birth.

Her personality was irritable and capricious, picky about everything, and always seeking the finest items to match her standards. Servants found it incredibly difficult to keep her satisfied.

In truth, the Gillettes were all like that.

A narrow-minded Count who couldn’t tolerate mistakes, a Countess obsessed with luxury, a reckless, arrogant Count son, and a daughter whose behavior made the servants avoid her… the Gillette estate was hardly an easy place to work.

Yet today, the capricious and finicky Countess was in an unusually good mood.

She lightly tapped her cheek with the back of her hand and smiled in satisfaction.

“My skin looks quite nice today.”

The beauty potion the alchemist had gifted her that morning left her skin glowing, making her feel five years younger.

Until now, no matter how many health potions he had poured into her son’s meals, they never improved his swordsmanship, leading her to think the alchemist was incompetent. But seeing the effects now, it seemed that his reputation as a graduate of the Golden Ivory Tower was no exaggeration.

“Why didn’t he make this sooner? What has he been doing all this time… hmm.”

At that moment, a voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Mother, shall I bring you a hand mirror? You’ve been so focused on your face that you haven’t been listening to me.”

“Oh! No, Via! I heard everything you said!”

Even the most cantankerous Countess had someone who could fluster her. That person was her ten-year-old daughter, Bianca Gillette.

The little lady, with her blue-black hair, sat before the Countess with a composure far beyond her years.

“Ahem! Where were we, my daughter?”

“We were discussing the future of the Gillette family,” Bianca replied.

“Hmm?”

“It seems that the line of our family’s renowned swordsmen ended with grandfather. Leaving the next head of the family to my incompetent and foolish older brother would lead to our downfall. I believe it would be better for me, the smarter one, to become the head and take a capable knight as my husband. Mother, what do you think?”

“….”

The Countess froze for a moment. Could these words really come from a ten-year-old?

‘My daughter is both adorable and terrifying!’

Unlike her parents, who were hardly capable of making such cold, rational judgments, Bianca seemed born with a keen, strategic mind.

Shaking off her thoughts before the stern rebuke came, the Countess forced a smile and replied.

“Your brother is only twelve. Let’s wait a little longer.”

“Hmm.”

Bianca’s dissatisfied expression was enough to make her mother change the subject.

“Well, Via, I heard you chased away another playmate this morning. How many times has that been now? If there’s a problem, why don’t you tell me?”

“The problem is that no child meets my level,” Bianca replied.

“I… I see. I’ll try harder to choose one for you.”

“Honestly, it would be better to bring me more books for now. I’ve nearly finished all the books in the library.”

“All of them?”

“Yes, our family library doesn’t have that many books anyway.”

“Ah… understood. I’ll tell the steward.”

At that moment, a knock sounded, and Isella, in charge of serving tea, entered.

“Madam, Miss, here is your snack.”

Today’s spread included sweet fruit tea, pristine lemon sugar balls, jiggly orange jelly, and a deliciously red apple soup.

“Oh, what an unusual dessert.”

“Yes, Mother.”

The mother and daughter, as if on cue, both reached for the apple soup first.

One taste, and their eyes widened.

“My, what an exquisite flavor. Just my taste.”

Isella, who had been wearing a satisfied smile, stepped forward.

“This dessert was made by Master Rodelline’s daughter. She’s quite skilled at presenting sweets. I plan to teach her more.”

“The alchemist’s daughter? Well, I was already pleased with the whitening and moisturizing potions the alchemist made this morning. And now his daughter has done something admirable as well. Make sure the kitchen prepares plenty of snacks for her.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Even usually indifferent Bianca perked up, ears twitching.

“A beauty potion?”

“Yes. Until now, potions were only medicine, but they can also be made into cosmetics.”

The effects of the functional cosmetics were excellent. Expensive, yes, but money was no shortage in the Gillette household.

Bianca pondered deeply.

‘Leonard Rodelline was supposed to be a rigid alchemist who only did standard research. Did he suddenly decide to make a beauty potion? And separate ones for whitening and moisturizing, no less…’

It didn’t make sense to be his idea. Then who could it be?

Isella offered a clue to Bianca’s question.

“Master Rodelline shared quality soap with the estate’s servants. He proudly said it was made by his daughter.”

“Isella.”

“Yes, Miss?”

Bianca’s red eyes sparkled.

“Where is the alchemist’s daughter right now?”

✠

“Hey, Prinz’ sister.”

A teasing, provocative voice reached me as I emerged from the greenhouse with a basket of tomatoes.

Turning, I saw a boy about Prinz’ age, arms crossed, looking straight at me.

His blue-black hair, expensive clothes, and a face full of mischief made his identity clear.

‘A young master of the Count’s household, no doubt!’

Hiding my irritation, I greeted politely.

“Hehe. Hello, Lord Romdio.”

“Skip the greetings. Hand over that basket of tomatoes.”

“Ah!”

The brat snatched the basket from me, and I braced myself for the chaos to come.

“Ha! Eat this!”

He began hurling tomatoes at passing servants.

Thwack! Thwack! Splatter!

Apprentice servants carrying goat’s milk screamed as the tomatoes burst around them.

“Hehe! Got you! Wait… what? Already out of tomatoes? Hmph, why did you only pick this many? Go get more!”

“….”

“Hey! I said go get more!”

I, a powerless little apprentice maid, became the unwilling accomplice to the brat’s terror.

I hurried back into the greenhouse, filled my apron with tomatoes, and handed them one by one in time with his throws.

His throws became stronger and more accurate as he got into the rhythm.

“Hey, this is actually fun! You try—”

Suddenly: squish!

“…Huh?”

A rotten tomato burst in his hand.

“Oh no!”

I covered my mouth in shock as slimy, rotting tomato oozed down his hand. White worms wriggled among it.

The brat’s face drained of color.

“W-what! Worms! There are worms! Aaaaah!”

Serves you right for playing with food.

Watching him flail was oddly satisfying, though I realized cleanup was necessary.

“Oh, Lord! I’m so sorry! I picked the tomatoes in a hurry, that’s why this happened. Please stay still for a moment.”

“Stay still?! You think I can do that?! Aaaah!”

“Waving your hands and screaming like that might make some of these worms go into your mouth!”

Gulp!

The brat finally calmed down. I took the opportunity to clean his hands with my apron.

He held them out, eyes tightly shut, clearly too disgusted to look. It was amusing.

“All done, Lord. Shall we resume our tomato-throwing game?”

“No! Never!”

“Ah, too bad.”

The brat stomped away, traumatized by the rotten tomato, and I noticed a faint glimmer of moisture at the corner of his eye. Probably not my imagination.

[‘The Spell of World-Building’ tsk-tsks, noting how fitting it is that the antagonist, known for tormenting people in the original story, is precocious and insolent even from a young age.]

I was a little surprised.

“Oh… you were watching, Spell of World-Building?”

[‘The Spell of World-Building’ says it feels awkward but plans to observe you whenever possible, since you are the first believer.]

And it wasn’t just that.

[‘The Balancing Critic’ came to the headquarters to push for approval but spotted you.]
[‘The Eye Watching Chaos’ quietly observes your behavior.]

Truly, it felt like the gods themselves were watching. A strange step closer to religion.

I entered the greenhouse to finish my kitchen errand, needing to refill my empty basket.

A shadow fell over me as I crouched.

Looking up, the person looming over me was once again not someone I wanted to see.