Chapter 15: The Sun Was Already Setting

The sun was already setting by the time the thin veil of clouds cleared. Twilight gradually descended, and a cold wind swept across the land. The mountain to the west meant the sun always set early in Turnera, and the nights were still cold. The snow had nearly melted, but it was still winter as far as the calendar was concerned, and a bit of winter’s chill still lingered about.

Belgrieve had used dried meat and beans alongside his stockpile of potatoes and greens to quickly throw together a stew. When he was alone, he would be more sparing with the salt and ingredients, but today was special. He loaded the pot up and added ample seasonings, including the spices Angeline brought back.

Angeline loomed around him, insisting she wanted to help out, but Belgrieve told her she needed to bring her souvenirs in before the frost set in on them. Thus, she reluctantly assisted Anessa and Miriam on the herculean task. As she stared at the mountain of gifts, she grew irritated—who in their right mind thought it was a good idea to bring this much? And then she frowned, remembering it had been her.

Once Belgrieve had set the stew to simmer, he kneaded some bread dough and placed it by the hearth. Then he took a large pot from the shed and used it to heat water.

“There aren’t any baths in Turnera. The closest thing is dipping a cloth in hot water, and giving yourself a good wipe-down,” he said, adding a bit of cold water from a pail to regulate the temperature. He wrung out a towel, lit a candle, and placed the two items beside the pot. “It may not warm you up all the way, but take your time sponging the grime off. I’ll be making my rounds outside.”

As Belgrieve draped his coat over his shoulders and picked up his sword, Angeline latched onto him.

“Dad, I’ll wash your back...so wash my back too.”

“Hey now, a girl your age shouldn’t be saying that.”

“We’re father and daughter, so it’s not a problem... You’re not a pervert who lusts after his own daughter, are you?”

“Oh, you’ve got a tongue on you now. Those cheap provocations don’t work on me.” Belgrieve smiled wryly and gently prodded her on the forehead. He walked out and shut the door behind him.

Angeline stuck out her lips. “We used to wipe each other down all the time.”

“C’mon, that’s pushing it a bit... Don’t trouble your dad too much.” Anessa tiredly chuckled as she stripped off her coat. The fireplace was blazing red, and the house was warmer than she had expected. Once she was down to her undergarments, she hesitantly asked, “Would it be better if...I took it all off?”

“Hmm? Did you say something?” Miriam had already doffed her hat and heavy robe and taken off her underwear, leaving her pale skin bare. The soft mounds adorning her chest swayed freely as she used the wrung-out hand towel to wipe her body. Her tail gleefully wagged while her ears twitched to and fro.

“Ah, that hits the spot. Look at how dirty it got from wiping.” The towel was sullied with grime in no time.

Anessa sighed. “Look here, you’re a maiden for what it’s worth. Don’t show your skin that easily...”

“Don’t worry about it...”

“Eep!”

Before Anessa knew it, Angeline had snuck around and pilfered her undergarments from behind. As she let out an instinctive shriek, Angeline and Miriam giggled.

“‘Eep,’ she says... hee hee.”

“So puuure.”

“Sh-Shut it! Stupid!” Anessa shouted, hiding her chest as she turned bright red. The other two laughed even harder.

In any case, the matter of whether to sponge off while buck naked was settled, and the three girls began cleaning themselves and each other. They gradually let their guards down and were joking around and tickling one another before long.

“Hey, don’t push! What would you do if I fell here!”

“Heh heh, your skin is so smooooth, Anne.”

“Meanwhile... Merry is squishy... How sumptuous.”

“Ah, now you’ve said it! I was worried about that!”

“You reckon you’re eating too many sweets? You weren’t this round before.”

“Shuuut up! You’re one to talk, Anne! Just look at how fat your legs have gotten! Look at those childbearing hips!”

“Gah... Th-This is the result of my training! It’s important to have a sturdy lower body!”

“Meanwhile, I’m not growing...anywhere. What a mystery...”

“Hmm... In your case, Ange, maybe it’s because you’re always moving around a lot?”

“Right. You’re the one racing around the most, so it makes sense you’d be slimmed down, or maybe ‘firmed up’ is the way to put it?”

“That’s right! I’m jealous of how slender you are!”

“Says the boob monster... You pickin’ a fight?”

A sudden draft blew over them. The outside temperature was gradually making its way in, and the room that had been so warm was not nearly as cozy now. The girls shivered and hurriedly produced clean clothes from their bags. It was now dark, the sun having already set outside.

Anessa put on a coat, while Miriam pulled her sleeping cap over her eyes. The two of them had been born and raised in Orphen, so they were not accustomed to the piercing cold.

“Phew... It gets pretty cold when the sun sets.”

“Yes, Turnera nights are harsh... You’ll have a cold the next day if you aren’t careful,” Angeline said, lighting a lamp. She hung it on a rope dangling from the ceiling. The room, which had been barely discernible from the candle’s glow, was now enveloped in soft lamplight. She scowled at the fireplace that was now little more than embers.

“I’ll need to add wood...” she said, picking up a few pieces from the pile beside it, and placing them over the glowing embers. Once she had blown on it, the flames rose up as if she had breathed life back into them.

“That should do it...”

“Ahh, nice and warm now.”

They huddled together by the fire. Angeline reached out and grabbed a blanket to wrap around them. The girls laughed—for some reason, it felt as if they were children again.

“Remember how we used to get under the covers like this to tell scary stories?”

“Like the one about the ghost in the graveyard. The sister was furious when she found out.”

“Oh yeah, because we made the little kids cry! She rushed in when we were trying to get them to quiet down...”

“That takes me back...hee hee.” Miriam drew closer to Angeline, who was sandwiched in the center. “Did you used to do this with your father, Ange?”

“I used to sit on his lap... He would drape a blanket over his shoulders, and I would crawl under it...”

As the three of them sank into various memories, there was a soft knocking at the door.

“Are you done yet?”

Angeline shot off towards the entrance before anyone could answer. She threw open the door and latched onto Belgrieve, wrapping her arms around his neck, and hanging from him.

“Welcome back dad! Are you going to wash up too?”

“Maybe later. For now, let’s have some dinner.”

Belgrieve walked in while exhaling white breaths, with Angeline still dangling from him. He brought with him a headless elaenia bird, which he must have only just killed as it hadn’t yet gone stiff.

Placing the bird on the butcher’s block, he lowered Angeline and said, “Ange, do you remember how to do the bread?”

“Yeah! In the skillet, right?”

“Right.”

Happy as could be to receive a request from Belgrieve, she tore off chunks of the risen dough, rolled them into balls, and lined them up in the pan. Anessa and Miriam came over and watched, curiously.

“Hmm, I didn’t know you could do it like that...”

“Interesting. I guess not every bread needs an oven.”

“It doesn’t really fluff up, but it’s pretty good in its own way... Want to try?”

“W-Well, I guess, why not.”

“All right, the Great Merry’s going to show what she’s got.”

With no small amount of chatter, the three girls rolled bread until the skillet was filled. Belgrieve watched, satisfied, as he soaked the bird in hot water, plucked its feathers, gutted it, then used the fire to remove whatever down remained.

“I’m glad I got one just in time.”

He managed to take it out with a throwing stone while he was walking through the fields. The sunset had been his ally, as it slowed the reactions of the bird, which would have otherwise moved more shrewdly. It wasn’t especially meaty, given the season, but it had quite a bit of fat on it—more than enough to add some variety to the dinner table.

He skewered it whole, allowing the grease to drip as he spit-roasted it. The liver, heart, and other edible organs were similarly skewered. Each time a drop of fat fell, the embers would pop and let off fumes, as if he were smoking it. The aroma was divine.

Soon the bread was cooked, the elaenia was roasted, and the plates were set out with steaming cups of the mulled wine Angeline had brought from the capital.

“I doubt it can match what you’ll find in Orphen, but enjoy yourselves.”

“A dinner five years too late! This is a feast!” Angeline rejoiced with childlike glee as she took in the scent of the stewpot. Rather than Orphen’s polished, extravagant cuisine, she much preferred the taste of her hometown.

“Heh heh, the scent of jarlberries... Dad likes them, and so do I!”

“I guess you won’t find many of them in Orphen. I hope it’s to your tastes...”

Belgrieve poured a ladle of stew into every bowl. A peculiar, though not unpleasant, scent rose with the steam.

“All right... Let’s eat!” Ange said, quickly putting her hands together in giving thanks.

Belgrieve was not irreligious, per se, but he was not particularly pious either. He did not habitually offer prayers to Almighty Vienna for his meals, but he knew the troubles that came with hunting and cooking each day. He instead offered his gratitude to the vast expanse of nature that had blessed him with this bounty. Angeline had grown up watching and imitating him. Meanwhile, Anessa and Miriam offered brief, but more sacral, prayers before reaching for their wooden tableware. Their religious habits had been formed from their upbringing in the church’s orphanage.

After warming so long by the fireplace, the root vegetables in the stew had practically melted, mellowing out the stew’s flavor. The broth made from the dried meats and spices paired wonderfully too. Angeline stuffed her mouth with a smile spread across her face, while Anessa and Miriam seemed pleasantly surprised.

“It’s really good. I’ve never tasted this before. Is this prickling at the back of my nose the jarlberry?” Miriam asked.

“Yes, that’s right,” Belgrieve replied. “It might be an acquired taste.”

“Yes, but I do like it... It’s great, Mr. Belgrieve.”

“I like it too.”

“I see, that’s good...” Belgrieve smiled in relief, and took a mouthful of mulled wine. It had a nostalgic flavor to it, churning up memories from his time as an adventurer. As he mused over the fact that Angeline was now drinking it herself, he couldn’t help but feel the flow of time.

“Have you already gone to get glowgrass, dad?”

“No, not yet. Shall we go together?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!”

Anessa cocked her head. “Glowgrass?” she parroted.

“It’s a round, lamp-like flower. It glows red if you pour spirits over it... We send them floating down the river,” Ange explained.

“It was a Turnera custom. Paper’s cheap now so everyone uses lanterns, but it all used to be glowgrass, once upon a time,” Belgrieve added.

“Hmm... Sounds interesting.”

“They’re beautiful, especially at night... Hey, dad. Can we take Anne and Merry too?”

“Of course.” Belgrieve smiled and sipped his wine.

After they’d eaten through an ample amount of meat, there was plenty of fat left pooled on their plates. This made a perfect garnish for the bread.

“Tear off some bread...pinch it from the top so the fat doesn’t drip on your hand, bring your mouth close to the plate...”

Angeline showed the two of them how to dip their bread.

“Hmm, so you just have to...” As Miriam brought her face closer to the table, her hat brushed against the elaenia roast, soaking its brim in grease.

Belgrieve stroked his beard. “Merry, isn’t it hard to eat with your hat on? Why don’t you...”

“Ah! Um...err...”

She had been so lively only a moment ago, yet all of a sudden, Miriam was cringing timidly. Anessa looked between Belgrieve and Miriam knowingly.

“Merry,” said Angeline. She had a serious look on her face. “My dad is not that sort of person.”

“I know, but...” Miriam hung her head.

While Belgrieve was a bit confused, he understood he had said what he shouldn’t have. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. You don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.”

Miriam kept her head down a while, then suddenly, in one sweeping motion, she lifted her face and snatched the hat off. Her feline ears gently swayed. Belgrieve watched this with his mouth half-open.

Miriam was a beast-man. Her kind was never very numerous, and they were once seen as beneath pure-blooded humans. Many beast-men could trace their roots back to slaves. While slavery had already been abolished in the Rhodesian Empire, and blatant discrimination was outlawed, it was human nature to punch downward whenever they found someone on a lower rung of the social ladder. This urge grew stronger the greater the difference in standing.

Miriam had spent her infancy as an orphan in the slums and had faced such discrimination up to the moment the orphanage took her in. Even now that she was an AAA-Rank adventurer, she had grown to dread all those curious glances at her ears. Though she feared scorn and alienation, she was just as loath to endure unasked-for sympathy. It made her feel as if she was being looked down on, like her very existence was something lesser somehow. “I don’t remember doing anything to earn your sympathy,” she wanted to tell them.

She trusted Angeline, and Anessa was essentially a sister to her, so she didn’t feel anything when they looked at her ears. She could even take it playfully when they teased her over them. However, exposing her ears to someone she had only just met was terrifying, even if that person was Angeline’s father.

Belgrieve kept silent a moment, until he eventually, awkwardly scratched his head.

“I see... So that’s what’s going on.”

Miriam cast her eyes down in sorrow. It was just as she feared—those seeing her ears for the first time would pity her. Even Angeline’s father.

However, Belgrieve’s next words took her for a loop. “Your ears were cold... Turnera is quite a bit colder than Orphen, after all...”

As she watched in a daze, Belgrieve stood up and looked around restlessly, then tossed several logs into the fire and blew on them. The flames fiercely flared up.

“All right...give me a minute. I should have a wool-knit cap around here... The brim shouldn’t get in your way, and your ears will be warm... Right, I must have put it...” he mumbled, searching every corner for the hat.

Angeline grinned. “See? My dad’s not like that.”

“Your ears are cold...he says... Pfft!” Anessa shook, holding back her laughter.

Assailed by this strange bit of ridiculousness, Miriam inadvertently burst into laughter. She held her stomach. She had been pitied countless times for being a beast-man, but no one had ever stopped to consider if her ears were cold. And of course, they weren’t, not in the slightest—they were covered in a layer of pleasantly warm fur.

“Aha ha ha ha ha! Ah... I should’ve guessed. Ange’s dad is Ange’s dad, after all! Heh heh... Bwah ha ha ha ha ha! Ah, what’s wrong with me!”

Once he had found his wool hat and returned, Belgrieve was taken aback to see Miriam holding her stomach and laughing. “What’s going on?”

“Ah ha... It’s nothing! Hee hee, thank you Mr. Bell!”

“Hmm? Oh, here, have this...”

“It’s fine, no worries. Now sit down, dad... Heh heh.”

“But, umm...Merry, your ears...”

“Mr. Bell, Mr. Bell—how about some stories from when Ange was a kid?”

“Oh, sure...”

While Belgrieve still seemed confused, the girls happily stuffed their faces with stew. He tilted his head in confusion, but picked up his wooden spoon nevertheless.