I suddenly remembered an expression I’d once read in a historical novel: Burdensome uncles.
When second and third sons couldn’t find another family to take them in or a job to support themselves, they usually stayed with their birth family, and the firstborn son had to take care of them. That expression referred to people like that. There were a few more, like room dwellers or leftover rice eaters.
They were a little different from the shut-ins and NEETs of the twenty-first century but a societal issue in their own right during the Edo period.
The novel I’d read—about boys who didn’t want to turn out this way and did everything they could to find a bride whose family would take them in—was funny, but seeing that happen in real life to classmates of mine was the exact opposite.
To be accepted into the Magic Academy, one had to have a certain amount of mana. Their families surely hoped they’d find a good job or marry into a good family. It was probably expected of them. I couldn’t fathom the pressure.
The great benefit of having mana was the possibility of aiming for the military. If one’s mana was suited for combat and one’s martial skills were strong enough, one could even join the imperial knights, although that was no easy feat.
If one’s mana wasn’t very powerful, one could try to become government officials. The problem was that mana had nothing to do with that job, so plenty of people applied, even those who hadn’t attended the academy. Competition was fierce.
Now, if someone had powerful mana but an attribute deemed useless, and they weren’t really suited to either the military or civil service... Well. Let’s say their path would be tough.
To be honest, I couldn’t stop thinking about Yuri.
I’d explained a few things to him about stage lighting and was letting him experiment by himself for the time being, but I truly hoped this experience would become a boon for him in the future.
“You seem to be having fun, Ekaterina,” Mikhail told me after I shared some food with him, as I did every day at noon.
I blinked at him. “It’s that obvious?”
“Yes. You’re so lively, you’re practically sparkling.”
I’m...sparkling?
I’m the villainess, good sir. Sparkles are the furthest thing from my image. There should be dark clouds and lightning striking behind me!
I glanced at Flora seeking help, but my beautiful, pink-haired friend nodded with a bright smile. “I agree. You’re shining more than ever. Our classmates are all working hard because they’re so happy they get to prepare for the play with you.”
Flora... You aren’t the heroine for nothing. What a pure, innocent statement!
Our classmates are working hard because they want to show off their qualities and secure good matches for their future! Some may be hoping to find employment with the Yulnova, so they’re specifically showing off to me, sure—but that’s it.
Well, they do seem to be having fun for real, so I’ll give you that.
That said, I thought it was for the best. I wasn’t opposed to hiring some of my classmates if I thought their skills could be put to good use. After all, I’d fought the arduous battle of job hunting and had experienced the pain of rejection emails firsthand. I hadn’t been nearly as prepared as they were. I’d enjoyed my university years to the fullest and had only started looking for a job at the last minute. That was probably why I found them so commendable for fighting so hard from their first year at the academy.
As far as I was concerned, my little Flora was shining far brighter than I ever could. Her purple eyes looked like gemstones and literally sparkled!
Ah! She’s so cute!
Besides, I thought standing in the midst of a tempest suited me well. School events were meant to be equal parts chaos and fun, and I loved that. Compared to the daily death marches of my corporate drone days, this was a refreshing walk in the park.
“At first glance, you look the part of a composed, highborn lady,” Mikhail said, “but you always seem to have the most fun when you’re running around and taking care of many things at once. It just seems to be in your nature,” Mikhail said.
I-I don’t know if it’s in my nature or if my corporate days rubbed off on me. Am I still a corporate drone deep down? Was my soul always meant to be one? That’d be a bit sad...
“It’s a good thing!” Mikhail added after seeing my smile falter. “My mother is just like that. She’s also from a ducal house, but she could never stay still, even in her youth... I really didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he insisted. “Last time, you told me you wished Lydia would enjoy her time as a student. Somehow, I was reminded of that. When I look at you, I get the feeling you’re enjoying your student life with everything you have. That makes me happy...so...um... Anyway, that’s really all I meant.”
Uncharacteristically flustered, Mikhail scratched his sky-blue hair. He always seemed so composed, and the contrast made me smile.
“It’s a great honor to be compared to Her Imperial Majesty, as I deeply respect her. Tell me, Prince Mikhail, what is your class doing for the festival?”
Mikhail looked visibly relieved at the change of topic. “We’re making and serving snacks.”
Oh! A refreshment stand!
Such stands had been a key part of the original festivals, with the youths Pyotr had gathered making recipes from their hometowns for the emperor and their friends to try. Of course, that tradition had long been forgotten, and nowadays, students just served popular snacks and sweets. They usually made the things they themselves wanted to eat while playing shopkeeper.
The prince will be manning a refreshment stand? That makes it an imperial refreshment stand!
“We’ll only be cooking simple things, but we’ll borrow a large tent and tables to set up a café. The girls are even making clothes for those who’ll be in charge of waiting on tables. They’re very motivated.”
I see the girls in his class are also eager to show off their sewing skills.
Unlike the stage costumes, people would see the waiters’ outfits up close, so that might have been an even better way to showcase their work. Maybe they’d even chosen their class project with that in mind! I was genuinely impressed—they’d really thought this through. What ingenuity!
Speaking of which, I remembered how the girls in my class had kept giggling while taking the boys’ measurements. I couldn’t imagine the commotion that must’ve erupted in Mikhail’s class when they’d measured him!
Wait... What about the commotion that’s sure to break out if the crown prince of the empire waits on tables? This won’t be an imperial refreshment stand! It’ll be a maid café—I mean, a prince café!
Oh boy, the line is going to be so, so, so long.
“Will you be waiting on tables, Prince Mikhail?”
“I wanted to, but, well...you know.”
At his words, I realized what a security nightmare that would have been. Outsiders were usually forbidden in the academy, but during the festival, people would be coming and going in droves. It was far too risky to let unfamiliar guests get that close to the crown prince.
“I get to do what I wanted to do the most, though, so I’m pretty satisfied,” he added. “I’m on the cooking team.”
“My! You’ll be cooking?!”
“You always seem to be having so much fun doing it. It made me want to try it and see how it feels to have others eat what I’ve made.”
Imperial homemade cooking... That’s precious!
“Have you ever cooked before?”
“Never. But I’ll do my best to learn in the meantime, so I’d like it if you came by. I want you to eat something I’ve made—to thank you for always sharing food with me,” he said ardently.
I imagined him mixing something in a bowl while wearing a chef’s hat, and I couldn’t stop myself from giggling. He would look positively adorable.