After a little while, the refugees were encouraged into a cultural exchange with the people of the region. There were many words Nelly had never heard before and customs she was unfamiliar with, but through the exchange, both groups began to understand one another better. As for Nelly, what she felt most strongly was how much less intelligent she was.
It all started with her going to the river to do laundry with some of the local women. By this time, her turn to bathe had finally arrived, and she was able to fully clean herself. Nelly hated having to rely on the facility staff for everything, however, so she brought her dirty dishes with her, intending to wash those too—until the other women stopped her.
“Oh, Nelly, you can’t wash greasy plates here!”
She blinked. “But don’t we wash our clothes here?”
“Clothes aren’t covered in grease!”
It was the first time she’d ever heard of there being restrictions regarding washing in the river.
“If you wash that in the river, the filth will spread downstream and create issues for the people living there.”
It wasn’t good for the fish, apparently. That was why they had a separate sewer system. The facility was connected to it too, they told her. In large cities, laundry wasn’t allowed to be washed in nearby rivers; it was only permitted here because they were surrounded by farmland, and the population was less dense.
“There are places we can take the dirty water to purify and reuse it. We try to separate the dirty water from the clean water for that reason.”
Nelly struggled to digest this. “Purify and reuse water? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
She’d always thought herself a clever, capable housewife, but the citizens of the Lindsays’ region had such a different way of thinking. They had a broader perspective, and it made her realize how narrow hers had been her entire life. When they realized how dejected she was, the women comforted her by saying it was understandable; she was in a different environment now. They told her that she wasn’t stupid. She just had more to learn.
When she learned she would be given work that suited her and receive compensation in return, Nelly was over the moon. Money was essential. People often bartered back home, but one couldn’t buy clothes without coin. Fortunately, it was the start of crop season, and the farms needed all the help they could get.
The topic everyone felt most passionate about was children. Mothers shared the same concerns about their children, regardless of country or culture.
“My kids just have to be on the move all the time. I keep telling them it’s dangerous to visit construction sites, but they won’t listen,” someone said.
Nelly clapped her hands together. She was having the exact same problem! “Mine too! I don’t know if it’s because they’re boys, but they insist on going to watch the construction. There’s so much of it going on around the facility that I always have to keep an eye on them!”
“I know what you mean! The area around the facility is probably the most dangerous. You know, I’m half tempted to give up and leash them like dogs at this point.”
It was one thing if the children watched from afar, but if the adults weren’t vigilant, the little daredevils would wander closer and closer to the danger zone. They were neither quiet nor obedient. Nelly was less anxious now, thanks to the increase in security, but she was still beside herself worrying that the children might follow a stranger if given the chance.
The local director’s wife—who always brought his lunch—wandered over, perhaps noticing the animated chatter. She looked relieved to see the locals and refugees mingling without issue.
Nelly’s eyes were drawn to a decoration on the wife’s bag. When she noticed Nelly looking, the woman pulled her bag up, making it easier for Nelly to ogle the miniature tapestry of black and blue woven together. Something about it captivated Nelly.
“This is fan merch, meant to represent Lady Claudia and Lord Virgil,” supplied the wife.
“‘Fan merch’…?”
She knew immediately that this Claudia must be the beautiful woman who interviewed her, and that Virgil was Claudia’s older brother, the duke’s representative and heir. Nelly had never heard of “fan merch” before, but she understood the concept right away because of how closely the colors matched the siblings’ hair and eyes.
“Do you think I could get one too?” Nelly asked.
“Oh, hmm… Maybe I should suggest that to my husband.” She barely finished her sentence before scurrying off to flag him down.
Days later, the adult refugees were handed trinkets in the Lindsays’ colors, and soon everyone knew about a certain shop selling fan merch. They became bona fide charms when the refugees realized how much more welcoming the locals were after seeing their trinkets.
Once construction of the temporary housing wrapped, the day laborers disappeared, and the women were able to leave their children in other people’s care and take up work themselves. They all understood that the support they’d been given wouldn’t last forever. They needed to become independent before it cut off completely. Some were lucky enough to find aristocrats to sponsor them, but those opportunities were few and far between.
That’s one difficulty overcome, and now another one to face.
Nelly wanted to sigh when she tallied their funds. The staff provided them with supplies as well as a stipend to cover their meals every month. Once the free meal services ended, they would have to take care of food themselves. Thankfully, there were groceries among the regular government handouts—which meant her cash was mostly for emergency purchases, like salves and ointments for the children if they got hurt. But those handouts wouldn’t last forever, and she was discouraged thinking about how they would manage then. Still, their lives were much happier now, considering they didn’t have to worry about losing them.
The director had assured them that they would be given advance notice of their aid being cut.
That’s assuming no war breaks out here, Nelly had thought. The director’s wife had laughed off Nelly’s worry when she voiced it, saying that simply wouldn’t happen.
It’s strange. She’d traveled through two—no, three—countries to reach this place, and everything was peaceful. From as far back as she could remember, her homeland had always been unstable. What makes this place so different?
Nelly didn’t feel she was smart enough to answer that question, but she understood how precious it was for her children to be able to run around carefree.
Sometimes, she thought about her husband. If the war ever died down back home—and she knew that was a big if—would she be able to see him again? She couldn’t forget her home, though she wasn’t confident she could return and live there again. Her children would be happier growing up here. Their little hovel that they’d carved out in the dirt had been so cramped; they didn’t deserve to be cooped up there forever.
I know I’m only dreaming. She would have to go back eventually. No matter how kind the locals were, Nelly was a refugee. She didn’t belong here. They were only nice to her because she was a guest they knew would leave eventually. It’s only natural for them to tell me to go home once the danger’s over.
As the saint had requested, the refugees were being cared for, but what happened once they weren’t refugees anymore? They’d have to go back home to their uncomfortable lives, wouldn’t they?
Honestly, Nelly was envious of the people who’d gained aristocrats as sponsors. They could live here forever.
Her husband’s face popped into her mind. She still missed him even now, but…
Nelly sighed inwardly. I need to focus on what’s in front of me.
She had to find a job. She wanted to buy her children some of that fan merch too.