The Abandoned Child

With all the special celebratory events in the neighborhood over, everybody’s daily lives returned to normal. I myself would be going back to the temple starting today. Once Damuel and Fran came to get me, I first made my way to the Gilberta Company; I needed to thank them for the gift and inform Benno about how cute Kamil was. If time permitted, I could talk about the printing business too.

“He really is super tiny because he was just born. He gets all red when he cries, he’s all wrinkly, and he’s really just super cute. I never expected my own little brother would be so cute,” I doted, telling Benno exactly what I had told Lutz, Fran, and Damuel on the way here.

Benno was grimacing and rubbing his temples. “Enough already. I’ve already heard what feels like a lifetime of this junk from Otto. Get to the printing business already.”

“Wha? Corinna gave birth too? I didn’t hear about this! When did that happen?!” I exclaimed with wide eyes.

Benno furrowed his brows. “I didn’t mention it? I probably forgot to since it happened while you were stuck in the temple. Otto’s been raving about his kid for so long I figured you would’ve heard about it from your dad, Lutz, or maybe Leon,” Benno explained as his dark-red eyes shifted to Lutz, who offered a shrug in response.

“Leon said it wasn’t our place to break the news in your stead, so I decided not to mention it.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I did meet with Myne after the baby was born but, well... there was never a good time to bring it up. There was the finished metal types, and then the blue priest’s tour...” Benno said, a distant look in his eyes. He had been pretty occupied on both occasions, and neither really presented a good opportunity for him to say that Corinna had given birth.

“Guess it’s better late than never. The baby was born at the end of winter. Her name’s Renate and she’ll be inheriting the Gilberta Company. Be nice to her and all that,” Benno said, his tone so flat that I couldn’t help but tilt my head in confusion. He was like the exact opposite of Dad here.

“You don’t seem very excited about this, Benno. Didn’t you really want a successor?”

“Yeah. Otto’s being more than excited enough for the both of us. He’s going to spoil the girl like a complete idiot; if I don’t whip her into shape, the Gilberta Company will fall apart the day I leave,” muttered Benno with a derisive grin. It was easy for me to imagine that he would spoil her too, even while claiming to be whipping her into shape.

“What’s with that look?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking you’ll spoil her just as much as he will.”

“Careful now,” Benno said with a glare.

But I just shrugged. “Renate will be fine with Corinna raising her. She’ll grow up to be a businesswoman that keeps a calm, gentle look on her face while securing as much profit as she can in any given situation.”

It was easy to be fooled by Corinna’s gentle demeanor, but thinking back there had been a lot of times where she’d led me to spill valuable information without me realizing it. Benno would point out when I was being naive and dropped hints to help me realize when I was being tricked, but Corinna did nothing of the sort. She wrung me dry with a disarming smile. When it came to business, Freida was forward to the point of being kind of off-putting, but Corinna got her information through casual chats.

...In terms of business, she’s actually scarier than Freida.

Honestly, when it came to merchants, Benno was definitely the softest one of them all. The parental sense of responsibility he had developed when training me as his apprentice was probably still lingering in the back of his mind and encouraging him to be kinder with me.

“I’m the one who raised Corinna, y’know?”

“Then the Gilberta Company will be safe for a long time yet.”

“Of course,” replied Benno with a nod before cutting to the chase. “But anyway, you said you had some news about the printing business?”

“The High Priest told me to hold off on movable type printing for now. If we charge forward, we’ll end up clashing with the vested interests—the nobility. It’s a fight we have no chance of winning.”

“...The vested interests are nobles? Yeah, the winning move here is to not play.”

Benno loved to pick fights with vested interests, but even he had no intention of going toe to toe with nobles. Feeling relieved, I told him what the High Priest had told me.

“Most book copying is actually done by nobles, so it’s important that I don’t try to make thick, adult-oriented books packed with words. But the High Priest said they won’t interfere so long as I just keep making kids’ books, so for the next couple of years I’ll be putting my all into making picture books for children.”

Benno shot me a glare. “Putting your all into it...? Alright, I need to hear more about this.”

I gave a big nod and announced my plans for the Myne Workshop. “To be specific, I’ll be developing colored ink to color the pictures. I’d then like to develop wax stencils to further improve stencil printing. We really need to hurry if we want to have it done in time.”

“...Have it done in time for what?” asked Benno, confused.

I proudly puffed out my chest. “I need to make books to match the growth of my cute little Kamil. I’ll be putting my all into this for him, so I would appreciate you introducing me to a wax workshop soon.”

“Do you have the High Priest’s permission to do that?” Benno asked with a grimace that was absolutely dripping with skepticism. But I would never do anything crazy when both Benno and the High Priest were always yelling at me to get permission for everything and report every little detail.

“The High Priest said picture books wouldn’t clash with the vested interests, and he was the one to tell me to add color to my picture books in the first place. He was all like, ‘Wilma’s art is wasted in black and white, books should have color, blah blah blah...’”

“I’m happy as long as you’ve got permission. I’ll set up a meeting between you and the foreman of a wax workshop.”

And so, when my business with Benno was done, I left the Gilberta Company having secured a future trip to a wax workshop.

“Good morning. I have returned.”

“Welcome back, Sister Myne.”

Delia and Rosina greeted me at my chambers and changed me into my blue robes. I told them about Kamil while I waited for them to finish.

“The other day, my little brother was born. His name is Kamil. He is very small, wrinkly, goes red when he cries, and is overall very cute.”

“Sister Myne, he does not sound cute at all when you put it like that,” Rosina replied with a giggle. Kamil’s wrinkly redness really was cute, but my words didn’t seem to be doing him any justice.

“You know, Sister Myne, whether or not your little brother’s cute doesn’t matter to us at all. Why even tell us about him?” Delia asked.

“I want as many people to know about him as possible. When he was born, I was told it was important for people to remember his birth.”

When I eventually got all of my preaching about Kamil’s cuteness out of my system, it was time to begin harspiel practice for the day.

After a short while, Rosina’s teaching was interrupted by a knock on the first floor door. A bit later, Fran came upstairs.

“Forgive my interruption, Sister Myne. Wilma has urgent business,” he said, a tinge of worry in his voice.

“You may let her in,” I said.

Urgent business from Wilma meant something had happened in the orphanage. I had Delia put away my harspiel and moved to the table, ready to welcome Wilma.

She came up the stairs to the second floor carrying a baby in her arms—one a little bigger than Kamil. Both Wilma and Fran looked at me for help.

“Wilma, where might that baby have come from?” I asked. At the very least, I hadn’t heard of any of the gray shrine maidens in the temple getting pregnant. It was apparently normal for attendants of blue priests to be returned to the orphanage after becoming pregnant, so the one thing I knew for sure was that the baby hadn’t been born here.

“It was abandoned. The guard said the baby was left with him...”

According to Wilma, a gray priest had been standing guard at the gate to the lower city like usual when, all of a sudden, a lone woman hastily approached him. She then handed him a small bundle, saying it was an offering to the gods. It wasn’t particularly rare for people to bring such offerings or to give donations after being helped by the gods, so the guard had accepted the bundle without giving it much thought.

“When the guard untied the bundle to see what had been offered, he found this baby inside.” It was standard procedure for the guards to check what was in an offering before giving it to the blue priests.

“She offered her child to the gods...?”

When parents could neither kill nor raise a child, they were left with no choice but to bring them to the orphanage and entrust their future to the gods. The baby was a little bigger than Kamil and could move its head around, but it was still too small to walk. I couldn’t help but feel anger at the mother who had abandoned it.

“As you are the orphanage director, Sister Myne, I brought it here first. Whatever shall we do?”

The orphanage director’s permission was needed before a new child could be accepted into the orphanage, but this was the first time since becoming orphanage director that I had needed to deal with this, so I didn’t know what steps I needed to take.

“I am not sure what to do, I am afraid. This has not happened before in my time as director. I will have to consult the High Priest once again. Fran, could you request an emergency meeting?”

“As you wish,” said Fran. I could imagine it was his first time dealing with this too, and he hastily walked out of the room with a troubled expression. Meanwhile, the baby was snoozing in Wilma’s arm, completely unaware of our worries.

“The baby certainly is a sound sleeper,” I said. Its small, sleeping form reminded me of Kamil, which brought a smile to my face.

...This baby’s cute too, but my little Kamil is way, way cuter. No doubt about it.

“We are fine as long as it stays asleep, but I do not know what to do when it awakes. There are no longer any gray shrine maidens here who have given birth. What shall we do without anyone to give the baby milk...?” asked Wilma.

In the past, a baby brought to the temple could simply be taken to the cellar where new mothers and still pregnant gray shrine maidens could feed them. They would raise the baby like their own child. But now the pregnant shrine maidens were gone, and the accumulated knowledge they had shared in that basement had gone with them.

The remaining shrine maidens and apprentices were all younger girls who had never been involved in offering flowers. They had been raised in an orphanage, not having parents to tell them about pregnancy, birthing, and child rearing, so nobody knew what to do with a baby.

“Do you know how to raise a baby without a mother, Sister Myne?”

“I have read about goat milk being used by mothers who cannot produce their own. I believe it is better for them than cow milk. It will take time, but we should be able to feed the baby spoonful by spoonful,” I explained.

That was all information I had learned from a fiction book set during the middle of a war, but Wilma looked as though her entire world had been given light. Her eyes were shining with admiration and respect.

“I thank you ever so much, Sister Myne. I will prepare some at once.”

“We will need to prepare diapers and baby clothes for it as well,” I said, remembering what we had needed for Kamil, but Wilma shook her head.

“We have enough left over from when we used to care for babies here. We may need to prepare more at some point, but we will be fine for now.”

“I see.”

When Fran returned from talking to the High Priest, I asked him to fetch goat milk, at which point the baby awoke and started crying and sucking on its fingers.

“I believe the baby is hungry,” I said.

Wilma began carrying small spoons of milk to the baby’s mouth. At first it shook its head in protest, aware that Wilma wasn’t its mother, but eventually hunger won out and it began drinking the goat milk bit by bit.

Everyone sighed in relief at the sight. At the very least, we had managed to avoid the baby starving to death.

Third bell rang out. The baby flinched in surprise at the sound, but continued to drink the milk, having clearly prioritized hunger over surprise.

“Fran, let us go to the High Priest. Sir Damuel, I ask for your protection.”

The three of us hastily walked to the High Priest’s room. My urge to be a good older sister was strong in my mind thanks to Kamil being born, and it made me want to prepare a living space for the baby as soon as possible.

“High Priest, we have something to discuss.”

I met with the High Priest and informed him of the abandoned baby, then asked him what procedures I would need to follow and in what ways I should look after it.

“Can you not merely do as has been done before?”

“I’m discussing this with you because there are no gray shrine maidens who have given birth and raised kids in the orphanage anymore,” I said, and the High Priest widened his eyes with realization.

“So there aren’t. But there is no use yearning for what is already gone. I suppose there are always wet nurses... Unfortunately, I have no experience raising children either.”

“There are wet nurses we can hire?” I asked, my eyes shining. Having one would make things a lot easier.

But alas, the High Priest slowly shook his head. “...Only if we can find one eccentric enough to willingly come to the orphanage.”

“That won’t be easy.”

The High Priest had probably spoken from the mindset of raising a noble child. However, it was hard to imagine anyone in the lower city willingly going to the orphanage, considering how looked down upon it was. Mom might be willing to help, but that would have to wait until she was healthy again; I couldn’t ask her to come now when she was too weak to even help with chores.

I immediately concluded it would be impossible to bring a wet nurse here. For now, I would have to rely on my attendants to take care of the baby. That would be a big burden on everyone, but it was our only choice if we wanted the baby to live.

“What should we name it? There wasn’t a name on its clothes or the cloth.”

“You may name it what you like. As long as it does not overlap with any other orphan’s name, it does not matter.”

“Understood.”

Our conversation over, I returned to my room at once. The baby was in a good mood, having been fed and changed into a new diaper by Wilma. According to her, it was in fact a boy.

“We will have to take turns watching him. Wilma would collapse if she had to watch over him all on her lonesome.”

That probably hadn’t been a problem when there were several mothers and pregnant women in the basement, but none of the gray shrine maidens in the orphanage had dealt with babies before. They didn’t know how to handle one, nor did they have anyone they could ask for advice. I couldn’t ask Wilma to take on the baby all by herself when there was nobody else she could rely on for help. Anyone who tried that would end up overwhelmed and exhausted.

“He will beg to be fed during the night as well. We will need at least one person to stay up at night and one person to wake up early if anyone is going to be sleeping.”

We decided that Wilma would watch him in the orphanage during the day, while the rest of my attendants would collectively watch over him in my chamber during the night. Rosina was already used to staying up late, so she would stay up later for him while Fran would go to bed early to wake up early as well. Once Delia awoke, she would then watch over him until Wilma came.

“Geez! Why do I have to look after him?!” Delia demanded. Listening to my orders as her mistress was one thing, but to her, looking after an abandoned baby every day was something else entirely. I did understand how she felt, but the baby would die if we didn’t look after him.

I carefully looked at Delia. Was there something I could say here that would get through to her? I needed something that would make Delia actively want to look after the baby.

I thought for a moment, then it hit me—Delia had looked envious when she said that she didn’t know what a family was like. She no doubt had a strong attachment to the idea of having a family.

“I believe it is your duty to look after him, Delia. You are his big sister, after all.”

“What? Big sister?” Delia replied, looking between me and the baby with a dumbfounded expression.

“You are too young to be his mother, Delia, so what else would you be but his big sister? Please take care of him as you would a family member. He is your family now.”

“My... family...?” she repeated, as if still processing what the words meant as she looked at the baby.

“I became a big sister myself just the other day, and now you are a big sister too, Delia. Shall we compete to see who can be the better big sister?”

“I’m obviously going to win!” Delia declared, puffing out her chest and giving it a confident thump. She would probably dedicate her all to looking after him now, like a good big sister should. At heart, Delia was a straightforward person and a hard worker who didn’t hesitate to dedicate herself to things.

My other attendants watched Delia’s sudden enthusiasm with clear amusement. But if a young girl like Delia would be putting her all into raising the baby, the burden on Fran and Rosina would definitely be lessened.

“First, let’s decide on a name. It can’t be one that someone in the orphanage already has, but other than that it’s up to us. Does anyone have any requests?”

“I want him to have a name like mine. Like family would,” Delia said while peering eagerly at the baby in Wilma’s arms.

Hopefully that makes her more attached to him, I thought while thinking of a name that sounded kind of like “Delia.”

“A name like ‘Delia’... What about ‘Deita’ or ‘Dirk’?”

“Deita... Dirk... I think I like ‘Dirk’!” Delia said, her face radiating blatant approval. “Dirk, it’s me, your big sister,” she continued, reaching out a hand toward Dirk. He gave a lopsided smile as she stroked his head.

“Did you see that, Sister Myne?! He smiled!”

“...Wow, Delia. Kamil only ever cries with me,” I said, a little disappointed that Delia was already proving to be a more powerful older sister than I was.

I resolved to look after Kamil as much as I could once I was back home to raise my own big sister power, but Mom and Tuuli were doing so much by themselves that there was barely anything left for me. It didn’t help that I didn’t get some key aspect of changing diapers. Whenever I tried, Kamil would start peeing for some reason, making a mess everywhere.

“Oh, an abandoned child was given to the orphanage? It must be rough without a woman to look after him,” Mom said while giving Kamil milk.

“So, Mom, do you think there’s anything I can do?”

“Well, napping during the day will make night feeds that much easier. Why don’t you try to make sure everyone looking after the baby gets as much sleeping time as possible?”

Her advice came from a place of much experience, so I gave a big nod.

“Okay, I’ll learn to change Kamil’s and Dirk’s diapers so you and everyone else can take more naps.”

“Please do. I don’t have very high hopes though,” Mom said with a smile.

When I went to the temple the next day, Fran and Rosina both looked exhausted.

It really was difficult for them to switch up their normal sleep patterns to feed Dirk goat milk throughout the night. They would need to nap during the day, no doubt about it.

“Fran, Rosina, please nap for about a bell after eating breakfast. Use this time to rest since you’ll have to wake up during the night.”

“As you wish. Thank you,” replied both Fran and Rosina, looking relieved.

It was hard work for mothers to look after their own children, so looking after someone else’s baby that had showed up in the orphanage out of nowhere one day must have been especially tough.

“More importantly, Sister Myne, there is something wrong with Dirk,” Delia said anxiously while looking at the baby. He was fast asleep, though I couldn’t see anything wrong with him.

“It happened in the morning. Dirk started to cry, but as the milk wasn’t ready yet, we let him keep crying. But then he got a fever, and his cheeks started to bubble. He calmed down as soon as we gave him milk, but we have no idea what happened,” said Fran, who had apparently seen it too.

But Dirk’s cheeks looked normal to me. I tilted my head in confusion.

“I think we will need to hold off on the milk and let him cry a little more. I will need to see this for myself before I can say anything. It is a shame that there is nobody here who could tell us whether this is normal for babies.”

We all watched as Dirk began to cry from hunger. Before long, the crying became high-pitched shrieks, and he really did get a fever out of nowhere.

“See, Sister Myne? He’s burning up.”

I touched Dirk and felt a shock entirely like static electricity, before seemingly being pushed away from his skin. Dirk’s crying intensified.

“Sister Myne, his cheeks have started to get bumpy again.”

“Delia, give him milk right away.”

“Understood. Here you are, Dirk,” said Delia while holding a small spoon in front of his mouth.

Dirk stopped crying the second the milk was in his mouth, instead focusing on sipping it down. His cheeks returned to normal and his fever went down in the blink of an eye. Nothing happened when I touched him now.

“Fran, ask the High Priest for another meeting. Preferably one as soon as possible,” I said in a sharp voice. He left at once, and Delia gave me an anxious look.

“Sister Myne, do you know what’s happening?”

“I cannot say for sure, and I do not want to worry you by making a wrong guess,” I replied with a shake of my head, lowering my eyes.

I would have liked for my guess to be wrong, but it probably wasn’t—Dirk had the Devouring. And on top of that, he had enough mana that it would kill him as a baby.

Delia, whose eyes had wavered with unease when I said I couldn’t answer her question, gave Dirk a protective squeeze.

What To Do About Dirk

If Dirk had a severe case of the Devouring, his life would be in danger unless he was given access to a magic tool that could suck the large amount of mana out of him. I needed to do whatever I could to ensure his safety, even if just by a little bit.

“Lutz, could I ask you to do something? I want you to go to the forest and get some taue fruit. They’ll last if you put them on the dirt part of the floor in the workshop’s storage area, right?” I called Lutz from the workshop up to the second floor of my chambers, then whispered my request so Damuel by the door wouldn’t hear me. It would be better if nobles did not learn of taue fruit.

I glanced Dirk’s way, and Lutz gave a small nod before immediately running off to the forest, having extrapolated the circumstances just from my small gesture. Once he got back, we’d be able to stop Dirk from losing control of his mana and dying from it.

“Sister Myne, I have gotten permission for a meeting.” Fran returned, wearing an exhausted expression. Both Arno and the High Priest had looked annoyed at having two emergency meetings requested in a row, but urgent business was urgent business; I needed to see the High Priest to learn whether Dirk really had the Devouring, how much mana he had, and what we needed to do with him.

“I suppose we shouldn’t give Dirk to Wilma yet, since we’ll be bringing him to the High Priest’s room. Fran, would you carry him?”

I intended to go to the High Priest’s room with Dirk since everything revolved around him, but Delia hugged him protectively and Fran slowly shook his head.

“Sister Myne, we cannot take a pre-baptism orphan out of the orphanage.”

My chambers counted as part of the orphanage since they were in the same building, but apparently taking him to the High Priest’s room was no good. I had forgotten that we weren’t supposed to take them out since we were stealthily taking the kids to the forest, but now that I thought about it, the pre-baptism kids were supposed to be still stuck inside the orphanage so that the blue priests wouldn’t have to see them.

“...I thought that bringing Dirk would be important for the discussion with the High Priest, but if you insist.”

I brought Fran and Damuel with me to the High Priest’s room, as I always did. Once inside, the High Priest gave a slight grimace of annoyance and asked, “What is it this time?”

“The matter I want to discuss is very important. Is it something we should talk about out here?” I said in a quiet voice, pointing my eyes toward the hidden room.

The High Priest raised an eyebrow, then held out the sound-blocking magic tool. I firmly gripped it.

“This discussion is important enough for you to actually pay attention to your surroundings and think?”

“...Yes. It’s about Dirk, the baby from yesterday. I believe he has the Devouring.”

After I explained what Dirk had looked like this morning, the High Priest’s brow furrowed hard and he let out a heavy sigh. “I would say it depends on how much mana he has, but given those physical symptoms, it would be safe to say that he has quite a sizable amount.”

“So he has the Devouring for sure?”

“Indeed.” The High Priest gave me a grave nod before rapping a finger lightly against his temple. “It would probably be wise for him to sign with a noble as soon as possible.”

“A contract...”

“He will not survive otherwise.”

I tightened my grip on the sound-blocking magic tool. Signing a contract meant selling your life to a noble. In return for being given the magic tools you needed to survive, you would spend your whole life enslaved to them, essentially becoming a walking mana tank for your noble to drain. I shuddered at the thought of Dirk, a baby as young as my little brother, suffering a fate like that.

“High Priest, could you not make him a blue priest that offers up mana like myself, or otherwise set up an adoption with a noble?”

“It will cost a significant amount to raise the baby as a blue priest. Who will pay for that?”

Having become a blue shrine maiden myself, I knew all too well how much money it cost to live like this. I had almost run out of money preparing for winter despite the Myne Workshop supporting me; clothes, shoes, and pretty much every other little thing was expensive.

“You have been able to cover your expenses by earning your own money,” the High Priest continued, “but do you expect an orphan baby to do the same?”

“...No.”

“Or are you suggesting that you will cover both of your expenses? Would you pay that much for a baby that has no blood relation to you? Is that something your family would permit? Even if so, would that not be the orphanage director showing favoritism to a single orphan?”

I fell silent. I wasn’t even sure I could afford to cover both of our expenses forever, and it was forbidden in the orphanage to prioritize one orphan over the others. I wanted to help him, but I couldn’t think of what to do. All I could do was keep quiet.

The High Priest, seeing my hesitation, softened his expression. “In regard to having a noble adopt him, all adoptions need direct authorization from the archduke. It is not possible for me to simply engineer one wherever I like. In your case, it was determined that you and your quantity of mana, talent for earning money, and otherworldly wisdom being put in the care of an archnoble would be for the best for the city,” he said, indirectly revealing that there had been a lot of background forces at play when he was arranging for me to be adopted by Karstedt. The High Priest had clearly stuck his neck out and worked hard for my sake.

“Myne, am I correct to assume the baby is a male?”

“Yes.”

Oh, right—we hadn’t checked to see the baby’s sex when I spoke to the High Priest yesterday. He must have determined its gender by me calling it a “he.”

“That will make things more difficult...” he said with a slow shake of his head. “I believe I mentioned before that it is the mother’s mana that influences how much mana her children have. A female baby might have had a future being adopted, though she would have been passed off as a natural child rather than an adopted one so that she could be used as a pawn for political marriage.”

I bit my lip. Maybe it was just because I had my memories of living as a Japanese person, but I considered being a pawn for political marriage and being enslaved via lifelong contract not much different.

“There is a slight chance that a noble might want to adopt him given the current mana shortage, but I can say nothing for certain until I have measured the baby’s quantity of mana. Tomorrow morning... Yes, at third bell tomorrow, I will come to your chambers with a magic tool for measuring mana. I imagine that is alright?”

“Absolutely. I shall be waiting,” I said, handing the High Priest the sound-blocking magic tool. But he handed it right back to me. I cocked my head in confusion and took it back, wondering if he had forgotten to say something.

“Myne, who else knows that this baby has the Devouring?”

I lowered my eyes in thought. None of my attendants were familiar with the Devouring. Fran had asked me about Dirk’s symptoms since even he couldn’t recognize them on sight. Lutz could probably guess since I had asked for the taue fruit and then gestured toward Dirk, but none of my attendants would know what that meant.

“I think I’m the only one who firmly understands that Dirk’s symptoms are being caused by mana.”

“In that case, continue keeping this a secret. Be particularly careful that the High Bishop does not learn of this.”

“...Understood.”

I would have to keep it hidden from Delia that Dirk had the Devouring; if she didn’t know about the Devouring, she couldn’t inform the High Bishop about it. I felt a little sad that I had to hide things about Dirk from Delia despite her showing him so much love as she strove to be a good older sister.

The next day, at third bell, the High Priest visited my chambers with Arno. We had finished feeding Dirk and changed his diaper ahead of time. He often, er, did his business right after we put his new diaper on, but there was no helping that.

One interesting thing, though, was that Dirk didn’t cry very much. He generally had a happy smile on his face as long as his diaper was clean and his belly was full. He was rarely fussy when put to bed and didn’t require as much upkeep as most babies might, which was much appreciated by everyone.

Incidentally, our Kamil cried a lot more than Dirk. He was especially noisy when he wanted to sleep, and he wouldn’t fall asleep unless Mom was carrying him. I couldn’t tell whether this contrast was due to the difference in age or whether it was just down to their personalities.

At the moment, Dirk was sleeping on top of a large straw-stuffed cushion set in the corner of my room. Delia was sitting next to it, looking after him. The cushion was Dirk’s bed and could be easily moved to the first floor when Fran was looking after him, then to Rosina’s and Delia’s rooms on the second floor when it was their turn.

I heard a door open on the first floor, then heard Fran say, “Good morning, High Priest.”

“Where is the baby?”

“The second floor. Please follow me.”

Delia, realizing from Fran’s voice that the High Priest had come, dropped her happy smile and turned to look at the staircase with a hard frown. To me, the High Priest was someone I could rely on for anything and everything, but it seemed Delia saw him as someone who wasn’t to be trusted.

“I thank you ever so much for coming all this way.”

“Myne, clear the room.”

Arno set a magic tool down onto the table and crossed his arms in front of his chest before stepping back. It was a circlet studded with small magic stones like those on the divine instruments.

“Please leave, everyone.” I cleared the room, and Delia looked uneasily between me and Dirk, who was still resting on his cushion, while slowly walking down the stairs.

Once everyone was gone, the High Priest took out the sound-blocking magic tool. “Clearing the room is not enough to prevent our voices from being heard downstairs,” he explained.

After grabbing the sound-blocking magic tool, I walked toward where Dirk was sleeping. The High Priest followed with the mana-measuring magic tool. He pressed the magic stone against Dirk’s head, and the circlet shrunk to fit him perfectly. At this point, something that minor wasn’t enough to surprise me even a little bit.

“Oh, the stones are changing colors.” I knew very well from offering up my mana to the divine instruments that feystones changed color when absorbing mana. That was apparently how noble children had their mana measured when they were born.

Once the color changing slowed, the High Priest removed the circlet and counted the number of differently colored stones.

“Hm. He has about as much as a mednoble on the stronger side.”

“...A mednoble? I would have thought he had more mana than me.” Myne had lived up to the age of five with the Devouring, so Dirk being close to death already made me think he had much more mana than I did, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

“A baby so ruled by emotions it is incapable of controlling mana and a small girl with the mind of an adult are incomparable in mental strength. But most importantly, you have been compressing your mana without anyone having taught you how to, no?”

The High Priest explained that as one grew used to controlling mana, they could compress it and fit more into their body. He could estimate how much mana Myne had from the fact that it was enough to eat her alive at five years old. Dirk probably had more mana than she did when she was born, but then I awoke in her mind and successfully pushed the heat deep inside of me, which made space for more mana to grow. Each time the mana filled up and started to rampage within me, I compressed it even deeper inside of me, making even more space. This process repeated until I basically had a stupid amount of mana.

The High Priest went on to say that I had an enormous amount compressed within my small body—so much that it was hard to believe I could contain it at all. Compressing mana like that was apparently a technique that nobles usually learned in the Royal Academy before puberty hit.

“Doesn’t that mean all nobles could have more mana if they practiced from a young age?”

“Don’t imply it’s so simple, fool. Allowing mana to fill your entire body before containing it with sheer force of mind is to dance with death, putting yourself on the verge of being eaten alive. You have experience with that, no?”

“Yes, it’s happened countless times.” It really was hard to count how many times I had battled with the heat to push it back inside of my body. In the end, I had so much mana because, over the year and a half that had passed between me starting to live as Myne and me joining the temple, I had spent every day on the verge of death.

“It is difficult to compress mana without having a mind strong enough to force it into place. Does it not make sense to wait until children grow and can be taught the proper methods for doing so? Every year, there are a number of students who fail to control their mana and consequently have a brush with death.”

Brushes with death had been a normal daily affair for me, but noble children were given magic tools from birth to shield them from such danger. They just poured their mana into these tools until they could go to the Royal Academy and learn to control it. Blue priests didn’t go to the academy and so never learned to control or increase their mana, which meant they were stuck pouring away their mana forever.

“Well, your case is irrelevant here. There might be some who would like to adopt a Devouring child with such an abundance of mana due to the mana shortage, but given that we are in the process of concealing information to keep you safe, it would be dangerous to spread word of us seeking a family for a Devouring child.”

If an adoption wasn’t possible, I at least wanted Dirk to sign with a family who would treat him right. I looked up at the High Priest. “Um, High Priest, could you sign a contract with Dirk?”

“I could, but I will not. I have absolutely no need for that baby’s mana.”

It turned out that it was largely nobles restrained by a lack of mana who signed with Devouring children. They were driven by their want of mana for maintaining their land and using their noble magic tools. Devouring contracts weren’t something they wanted to be particularly public, so while well-raised children would be given positions as servants or future mistresses, those who were poorly raised would often be locked in the cellar and treated like animals... which explained why the guildmaster was spending so much money on raising Freida like a noble.

I stared at the floor sadly as I thought about what Dirk’s future held, which made the High Priest give an exasperated sigh. “If you are that concerned about him, you can sign with him yourself after Karstedt adopts you.”

“...Me?” I asked, blinking in surprise. I hadn’t even considered signing with Dirk myself when I became a noble.

“Upon being adopted, you will have the noble status necessary to form such a contract. Hide the nature of his sickness and raise him in the orphanage until then.”

“I thank you ever so much.”

If I signed with Dirk, nobody would be able to complain that me raising him properly was a show of favoritism. Though I would have to listen to the High Priest and Karstedt’s advice—the latter because he would be my adoptive father. All I had to do was hide Dirk’s Devouring until then. It seemed that his future would be brighter than I thought.

As I rejoiced, the High Priest narrowed his eyes as if glaring at me. “Myne, this is no time to be rejoicing. The High Bishop will no doubt seek to exploit the baby if he learns of his Devouring. You defy him at every opportunity, whereas the baby has no will of its own. It is clear which of you he will attempt to make his own. If you wish to protect him, keep his secret safe until the very end.”

The High Bishop would want to use Dirk’s mana for his own means, and if the High Bishop demanded custody of Dirk, I had no means of refusing him.

“You would do well to always remember that your position in the temple and your future will be greatly determined by whether or not you can protect that baby.”

“Understood.”

After telling me that Dirk’s mana would be contained for a bit thanks to the mana-measuring tool draining him of mana, the High Priest took the circlet and left. Delia came running up the stairs a second later.

“Sister Myne, what did the High Priest say?! What is Dirk sick with?”

“He’s fine,” I said with a slow shake of my head. “The High Priest said to continue raising him as we have been.”

“I see... That’s such a relief.” Delia’s tense shoulders loosened as she hugged Dirk, rubbing her cheeks against his. The sight was a firm reminder that I couldn’t let any other noble adopt Dirk, nor sign a submission contract with him.

“Sister Myne, I have come for Dirk,” came another voice.

“Thank you, Wilma.”

Fran and Rosina went on break in the afternoon, and since they couldn’t rest easy with Dirk around, we would move him to the orphanage. Delia watched on sorrowfully as Wilma picked Dirk up and left for the orphanage with him.

“You can accompany him to the orphanage if you would like, Delia.”

“But Fran and Rosina are on break, and Gil is at the workshop. Sister Myne, you would have no attendants on hand if I went now.” Delia shot me a sharp look over the very idea.

“I do not mind coming with you.”

“Sister Myne, I think I mentioned that I didn’t want to go to the orphanage,” she responded coldly.

“I suppose you did,” I replied casually while heading to my desk. It wouldn’t be ideal for me to wander around outside my room while both Fran and Rosina were taking a break, so I decided to just focus on making a second black-and-white picture book for Dirk. Unlike Kamil, who had just been born, Dirk was already on the verge of rolling over in bed. He was surely almost old enough to see black-and-white picture books properly.

“Sister Myne, what do you think Dirk is doing right now?”

“Napping, I imagine.”

I drew pictures composed of circles and triangles on white paper using ink. All I had to do next was use the hide glue we had dried over the winter to stick the paper onto boards. I would have Fran prepare the hide glue for me when he woke up. Dad could then open holes in the boards, and after tying them together with thick string the book would be done.

“Sister Myne, do you think Dirk is crying, or maybe feeling lonely?”

“I imagine he isn’t feeling lonely with all of the children around. Though it may be too noisy for him to sleep.”

“But Dirk needs his sleep!”

“Raising your voice at me won’t change anything. I cannot even say for sure whether it is noisy over there,” I replied disinterestedly while writing down a to-do list on my diptych.

First, I needed to buy multiple different kinds of wax from a wax workshop. Stencils used for mimeograph printing were usually made with resin mixed into the wax to help them retain their form, but my plan was to try rolling using only wax this time. If it worked, it worked, but who knew what problems might arise?

“Sister Myne, aren’t you worried about Dirk?”

“Not really, since Wilma is keeping a close eye on him.”

Next, I wanted to talk to someone from an ink workshop about making colored ink. Nothing in the orphanage seemed like it would be a good material for making pigments, so maybe a workshop could help us with that.

“You can’t be sure of that. Geez! Sister Myne, are you even listening to me?” Delia exploded with anger after I kept giving half-hearted replies.

I looked up from my diptych to give her an exaggerated sigh. “If you’re that worried about him, go and check for yourself. Wilma would love to have you there.”

“...I don’t want to go to the orphanage.” Delia bit her lip in frustration. The conflict she was having between wanting to go and not wanting to go was clear on her face.

“Very well. Would you like me to go and check on him, then?”

“N-No fair!” Delia grabbed my sleeve.

I couldn’t help but laugh. I had only said that because I knew it wouldn’t be “ladylike” for me to leave my room without attendants, and she had jumped on the bait like a tiger.

“In that case, Delia, why not come with me?”

Delia’s light-blue eyes wavered and she swung her crimson red hair as she fought an internal battle. When she looked up, she glared at me with watery eyes and bit her lip once more.

“...I won’t go.”

I shrugged and turned back to face my desk, having no reason to argue with her decision. She didn’t say anything after that. All she did was wander around aimlessly. But somehow, I felt that Dirk was so cute that it was only a matter of time before Delia would be running to the orphanage.