Chapter 18

On the way home, I stopped by a bookstore and bought the Ashberry-Swartz dictionary.

The dictionary was so expensive that I had put it back on the shelf after picking it up once. As I was hesitating whether to buy it or not, Jeffrey quickly took the dictionary, went to the counter, and paid for it.

"That's expensive. Thank you, Jeff."

"You've been working hard in Shen and contributing to the country. You deserve a reward for buying a dictionary. Don't worry about it."

When we got home, Orie and Bersa were cleaning the garden together.

Orie was wearing a dark gray skirt and a white blouse with black shoes. Her hair was tied up, making her beautiful face stand out and look cute.

"I'm home, Bersa, Orie. I bought some cake as a treat. Let's all have it together."

"Oh, for the servants? Thank you. Lady, Orie seems to be a hard worker."

"Did she suggest cleaning? Can she understand what we're saying?"

"Yes, she offered to do it herself. Cleaning doesn't require much language, so it's manageable."

"That's true. Bersa is probably closer in age to Orie's mother, so she might warm up to her more quickly."

Orie must have realized she was being talked about. She smiled slightly at me but didn't stop sweeping. Well, seeing her smile a little is a step forward.

Nona was tapping her feet restlessly while looking at Orie, clearly wanting to get along with her.

Nona grew up alone until she was six. She spent her days in silence, without friends, inside the house. Since living with me, Clark has been her only playmate. Even when we were in Shen, the eldest son of the house owner was her only playmate. I think she must find Orie, a girl, rare and wants to be friends with her.

As we headed to the living room, I spoke to Nona.

"Nona at six was like that too. She was like a cute little kitten not used to people. But that made her even more adorable."

"Really? I just didn't know the words, but I was thinking a lot of things."

"Yes, you told me about all your feelings later."

"Yep. I wanted my mom to know all my feelings."

"I think Orie is the same. She has a lot of thoughts, but she doesn't know the Ashberry language. So let's wait. If we can't wait, then—"

"If we can't wait?"

"We can learn to speak Swartz."

"Right! Mom."

We walked together, giggling, when I felt a gaze on my back and turned around. Only Orie and Bersa were there.

(Who was looking?)

I couldn't tell and went to my room alone. I leaned down to check for baby powder footprints. There were none.

All the servants in this house were chosen by Lord Edward, but I plan to observe them for a while for Nona's and my sake. I've lied too much in my work to trust strangers without checking.

In the living room, Nona was muttering while reading the dictionary.

I thought about the gaze I felt earlier. It didn't feel good.

Back in the training facility for operatives, a certain instructor taught us the importance of sensing gazes.

The instructor turned his back to us and pointed at me, saying,

"Try to glare at me with the intent to kill me after silently changing your position!"

I moved silently, returned to my seat, and glared at him, thinking (I'll punch him from behind!).

"Hmm. You didn't change your position," he guessed correctly.

After me, several students challenged the instructor, glaring at him from different positions. The instructor, with his back turned, correctly guessed the positions of the students: "right behind," "directly behind," "to the left front."

After that class, 'gaze guessing' became very popular in my class.

In the game, I was exceptionally good at sensing gazes and their positions. Some students never felt the gaze, so it must be an innate sense.

While remembering those old days, I looked at the dictionary and tried to memorize a few words.

"Mom, listen to the Swartz language!"

"Oh, you already learned it? Please let me hear."

"Sure. 'I am Nona,' 'What is your name?' Is this pronunciation correct?"

Nona was pronouncing the words hesitantly, looking at the phonetic symbols.

Her pronunciation was probably mostly correct. I've given Nona thorough language instruction.

In addition to her native Ashberry language, she can converse in Randall, Haggle, and Shen. Now she will finally be able to speak Swartz. It's quite a skill for a noble lady, isn't it?

"Nona, go call Orie. Invite her by saying, 'Come with me.'"

"Oh! You already know! 'Come with me,' 'Come with me.' Okay, I'll go!"

Nona ran off at a speed unbecoming of a noble lady.

She quickly returned with Orie, sat her on the sofa, and placed paper and a pen to start talking.

"Wait, Nona. We need to check if Orie can read and write first."

"Oh, right. That's true."

With the help of the dictionary, I asked Orie various questions.

It took time, but I asked each question carefully. Impatience is forbidden in such situations. People who have had terrible experiences can close their hearts with just a small trigger. It's not easy to open those hearts again.

I spoke in simple words, and when Orie understood and answered, Nona recorded it. I wanted to leave a written record for Jeffrey and Bersa to know.

We took breaks and had tea and cake while asking questions. As a result, we learned about Orie's past.

She could read and write simple words and had worked on a farm before escaping. The farmer who tried to force her into marriage was forty-five years old. Moreover, she hardly received any wages, and she didn't know who to complain to or who would help the forest people, so she had no choice but to run away.

(Forty-five years old. Much older than Orie's father, I bet.)

I imagined punishing that man in my mind. The Kingdom of Swartz is supposed to be a cultural nation, but are they turning a blind eye to a disguised slave system? Or have the officials and royal family not heard about it?

After reading my written message, "What do you want to do from now on? I want to help you," Orie's reply was short.

"I want to see Clark."

That was Orie's only wish.

Nona, who was writing down the conversation, looked surprised and at Orie's face.

"Nona, I think Orie deeply trusts Lord Clark, who spoke to her after her terrifying experience. I'll have a letter explaining the situation delivered to the Anderson family."

"Okay, I understand."

By the way, I've been writing a novel called "The Saintess Has Already Been Summoned. To Japan." It's a low-fantasy story.

I started writing it and found it unexpectedly enjoyable. I initially planned to finish it in a few chapters, but I've already written nearly 20,000 words.

If you're interested, please take a look. It's a story about a saintess living quietly in a country that resembles modern Japan.