| Chapter 4

The man seemed to cross his arms at my quickly spoken words.

“…A woman they’re not interested in?”

“Yes. I thought you might know since you’re a man after all, Father.”

“Why are you curious about that?”

“I don’t want to stand out. I don’t like people being interested in me either. The older girls say that dressing up well and catching the eye of a rich man is the way to live comfortably, but I hate that idea terribly.”

“You seem a bit young for such conversations.”

I raised my head and met the green jewel-like eyes. The darkness cast by the hood was still there, but somehow I felt that the beautiful light emitted by those jewels had intensified compared to earlier.

“Tastes are diverse, you know. Basically, men are animals attracted to women. Why don’t you try observing with your own eyes?”

“With my own eyes?”

“Which flowers the bees flock to. If you can see that, you’ll also see the opposite reason.”

To see such things, I’d need to go where people gather, but I have neither the time nor the leisure for that. I furrowed my brow.

“What if I can’t see it?”

“Then just…”

The other person paused for a moment and rubbed their face.

“Live with a man who has no money.”

A long sigh escaped at that answer. I hadn’t expected there to be a perfect solution, but the answer was more disappointing than I had anticipated. I stood up, gathering my basket.

“You don’t seem like much of a priest.”

“Ha. Daring to insult a priest inside a temple, you’re quite fearless.”

I froze in an awkward posture at the suddenly solemn tone. In truth, I was taken aback because I didn’t know any of the proper etiquette to be observed in a temple. The man stood up abruptly and pointed at me.

“You’ll need to recite ten prayers before your sins can be forgiven. Understood?”

“But, but I…”

I tried to speak, but the other person had already opened the door and left the box. Thud, thud, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed. I was left alone in the box, blinking in bewilderment.

“I don’t know any prayers.”

Sighing involuntarily and scrunching my face, I awkwardly clasped my hands together and made up ten different kinds of apologies to God, offering them right there.

I hope this will suffice. People often speak of God as merciful when they talk about Him, so He probably isn’t that narrow-minded.

Composing myself, I opened the door and came out to find Mark lingering outside. As soon as he saw me come out, he winked one eye and quickly approached me, striking up a conversation.

“Done with your confession? What sins did those pretty lips commit? The sin of being cruel to me?”

“Am I…”

Interrupting Mark’s seemingly endless stream of words, I looked at him straight on.

“Pretty?”

Mark flinched for a moment, then scratched his nose bridge as if it itched and burst into an awkward laugh.

“You didn’t know? I, Mark Deluger, don’t talk to ugly girls. It’s obvious. They have to be up to my standards.”

Not understanding his words at all as he gestured vaguely at his body, I observed him more carefully with a bit more sincerity.

Tanned brown skin, curly chestnut hair, simple large round eyes with pupils darker than his hair color.

Judging by his words, he seemed to think he was handsome, but to my eyes, he didn’t look special. He wasn’t much different from other men with two eyes, one nose, and one mouth, yet Mark was quite popular among the women in the marketplace.

Even the girl from the flower shop across the street would always send flirtatious glances his way while glaring at me.

‘Why don’t you try observing with your own eyes? Which flowers the bees flock to. If you can see that, you’ll also see the opposite reason.’

The priest’s low voice tickled through my mind. It was a strangely resonant voice.
A voice that easily penetrated and dug into the complexly tangled human heart.

Right. Come to think of it, I had never once mingled with people my age since I was born. The only people existing in my world now were Mrs. Vino, Mrs. Almon, Laurel, and the people at the washing place.

“What time should I come?”

When I asked that, having made up my mind, Mark looked dumbfounded as if he’d been hit, but soon broke into a wide grin.

“You’re really coming? Any time is welcome! Um, we usually hang around this area until dawn, but, ah, are you free today? If you come at 9 today, you can see the performance too. I’ll tell my friend to save a ticket.”

“I don’t have money to buy a ticket.”

“Don’t worry about that. Where do you live? You work at Mrs. Almon’s place, right? I can take you…”

“9 o’clock. In front of the theater.”

As I cut him off sharply, speaking to Mark who was raising his voice with an excited face, he quickly nodded, saying “Ah.” A look of disappointment flashed across his face, but he soon grinned and winked again, seemingly out of habit.

“Look forward to it. It’ll be really fun. You’ll want to come out every day.”

At Mark’s confidence, I let out something between a laugh and a sigh. I wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do.

One thing was certain though — it would be more troublesome than before. As Mark waved his hand cheerfully, shouting “Then, 9 o’clock!” I started walking away. I could only hope that it would be a manageable level of trouble.

* * *

As I mashed the well-boiled potatoes and mixed them with flour and butter to make soup, a savory smell spread through the kitchen. While I was cutting bread into bite-sized pieces with a bread knife, I heard Mrs. Almon returning from her outing.

“Are you back, ma’am?”

Mrs. Almon was helping to buy and prepare ingredients at a nearby herb shop. Although she had a house and some inheritance left by her husband, it wasn’t enough to live comfortably without working.

“I brought some meat. Let’s have it for dinner, grilled or steamed.”

She threw a thick, blood-soaked paper bundle, frowning, looking tired. I unwrapped the paper with delight, revealing a chunk of meat with more than half of it being white fat.

The corners of my mouth lifted involuntarily as I imagined the smell of pork fat sizzling in a well-heated pan. After moving the bread I had been cutting onto a plate, I quickly put a pan on the fire. Mrs. Almon, who had been watching me closely, clicked her tongue and said,

“Did you buy bread again? I told you we’d bake it ourselves. How can you spend money so carelessly?”

“Ah, we ran out of firewood for the oven… I was planning to bake from next week when Uncle Jason comes to sell wood.”

Of course, I had already told her this a few days ago when we ran out of firewood. That’s why I had money to go shopping, but Mrs. Almon shook her head as though she was hearing it for the first time.

“Then you could have gone out and gathered some branches at least. How is it that you still can’t think for yourself even after all this time?”

She didn’t seem to know that it was thanks to the branches I had gathered that we could make soup or at least light a fire in Mrs. Vino’s room. She had no idea how much wood the oven consumed.

“Well, I suppose it’s natural since you weren’t educated. How’s mother?”

“She’s sleeping.”

“After I finish preparing my dinner, you go and take care of the madam. You must be tired, so go to bed early tonight.”

Mrs. Almon went back to her room, taking off her gloves. As I melted butter in the heated pan and put the pork on it, I thought to myself,

Going to bed early means a man is coming tonight. On nights like this, Mrs. Almon tended to be subtly sensitive to my presence.

I’ll have to leave quietly.

Although my first thought was that it would be troublesome, I was also a bit excited. After all, it was my first time sneaking out at night, mingling with people, and watching a performance.

‘You need to see and learn more. There’s so much in the world you don’t know. The world you know is probably just the size of a palm.’

Remembering what Laurel always said, I flipped the meat. Delicious smells were rising with the splattering oil droplets.

* * *

After dinner, I changed Mrs. Vino’s diaper and prepared her bed. As I looked around the room, listening to Mrs. Vino’s breathing that sounded like a small animal growling, I suddenly noticed the mirror hanging on the wall.

A face with shimmering silver hair loosely braided up was slightly flushed from the heat.

I remembered Laurel laughing, saying she envied how fair my skin was despite being in the sun every day. The two eyes set in the slender face were gray, adding a touch of gloom to my appearance. The once puffy eyelids had flattened, revealing clear eye lines, and the eyes themselves were round and quite large.

…Am I pretty?

I had never paid attention to people’s appearances, so I had never really felt that something was beautiful. As I was thinking this, I paused for a moment.

Ah, those eyes. There were eyes like green jewels.

I stared quietly at my eyes in the mirror, recalling the priest’s eyes.

Even though they were hidden under a black hood, the sparkle of those eyes was so intense it was hard to look away. Beautiful eyes. The kind that seemed like they would never tire of looking at.

I wonder if I could see them again if I go to the temple next time.