I had wanted to try making them too, so my sister had offered to teach me. However, my guimauves had ended up a goopy mess. To put it plainly, they had been a total failure.
My sister had seen me looking depressed and said, “No one gets it right on their first try.” She had even gone on to confess, “My first sweets were a disaster too.”
I couldn’t believe that my perfect sister could fail at doing something. But a nun had corroborated her words, sharing her account of how difficult it had been to get my sister, who had been eight years old at the time, to stop sobbing.
“A swan swimming in a lake may look graceful, but beneath the surface of the water, it’s paddling with all its might,” my sister had said. “Likewise, I believe that hard work is not something that we flaunt to others.” She hadn’t even been ten years old at the time—how had she been able to elucidate her thoughts so philosophically? I couldn’t help but wonder. Still, that was how I had learned that my sister, who had seemed far removed from failures and setbacks, had actually been putting in quite the earnest effort behind the scenes.
After that, I’d started going to the orphanage with my sister regularly. I learned how to clean, cook, and do laundry. But I was never able to make better guimauves than her. Some years had passed since then, and my cooking skills had improved. Surely I could make delicious guimauves now.
Incidentally, this would be my first time attempting them since I was a child. Despite selling so many sweets in the past few years, I had avoided making guimauves, partially because I had been afraid of failure. But now, I understood what I had done incorrectly back then, and the recipe had been drilled into my head, so I could easily recall it.
“This time, I’ll succeed,” I said, mainly to myself. “I’m going to make guimauves!”
“Yeah!”
After pumping myself up by high-fiving Wibble, I got started on the nostalgic sweets. I wanted to convey some of Triste’s many merits through them, so I planned on mixing in the berry puree I’d made with Wibble the other day, as well as slime gelatin, a powdered product invented by Gabriel that had been purified for cooking use. Just last month, the Lakeside Duck Bakery had begun using it in jellies and custards.
“First, dissolve the slime gelatin in water and mix well,” I instructed Wibble.
“Leave it to Wibble!” The slime skillfully picked up the whisk and whirled it around in the bowl.
Next, I added milk, sugar, syrup, and the berry puree to a saucepan and heated it on the stove. When the outer edges began to bubble, I poured the mixture into the bowl of slime gelatin and stirred quickly with a whisk. This was the step where I had failed previously. Had I asked Wibble to do this, I knew it would’ve been able to pull it off with ease, but this was something I wanted to do myself.
“Wibble, I’m going to try my best. Can you watch me?”
“Of course!”
After whisking the mixture until it was light and fluffy, I added vanilla-flavored oil and gently folded it in. Then, I poured the mixture into a mold that had been lightly coated in oil and flour. Once the guimauves reached room temperature, they would be ready to eat.
“It went well, Wibble!”
“Yay!”
I had finished making the sweets I had unconsciously avoided for years. Needless to say, I felt extremely relieved. However, I couldn’t call it a success yet—what mattered most was the taste and texture.
I nervously tried one of the guimauves. As I bit into the soft, springy treat, the sweet and tart taste of berries spread through my mouth. It was a refreshing, delicious flavor.
“I was able to make guimauves with your support, Wibble.”
“That’s great!”
I teared up from joy, and Wibble gently hugged me. I knew I would be able to send these guimauves to my sister with confidence.
After dinner, Gabriel and I had tea, and I served him my guimauves.
“I made these as a gift for Adele,” I explained. “Can you try them for me?”
“Gladly,” he replied.
I mentioned that I had used autumn-berry puree and slime gelatin. As soon as he picked one up, he looked surprised.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No, it’s just that I’ve never had such a soft guimauve before.”
That was understandable. Unlike regular guimauves, the ones I’d learned how to make at the orphanage were fluffier than normal and jiggled a bit, like slimes. They also had a springy texture.
“That’s because of the recipe I use, but the slime gelatin might be making them even softer than normal,” I said.
“I see.”
Slime gelatin was flavorless and odorless, so it didn’t interfere with the sweets’ taste. It would surely be popular if it were sold on the market.
“With this, I suppose slime gelatin is even making its way to the Empire,” Gabriel said.
“Yes, that’s right.”
When Gabriel had first told me about his idea for slime gelatin, he had said that it probably wouldn’t be found acceptable. After all, the consumption of monsters was forbidden. However, the slime gelatin Gabriel had produced was properly purified, and only the gelatinous substance had been extracted from slimes. He had submitted a commercial-product application to the government through Prince Axel, and it had passed safety inspections. The sweets made with it were very popular at the Lakeside Duck Bakery.
“I’ll be sure to explain my use of slime gelatin in my letter, so it’ll be fine,” I said.
“That’s a relief.”
I anxiously watched as Gabriel lifted the guimauve to his mouth.
“I’ll go ahead and try it, then,” he said.
“Please do.”
His eyes widened in surprise the moment the sweet passed his lips. After chewing several times, he swallowed.
“Fran, these are the most delicious guimauves in the world!”
“Really?”
“Yes, I’m not lying!”
I was relieved to have his seal of approval.
“You should sell them at the Lakeside Duck Bakery,” he said. “They’ll surely be popular!”
“Shall I have the workers taste test them too, then?”
“Absolutely!”
Thanks to Gabriel, I was positive that my sister would love the guimauves. But that was enough about me—I wanted to know how things had gone at the lake.
“How were the pearls?” I asked.
“Oh, right. I was going to tell you.” He took a bundled handkerchief out of his chest pocket. “The next set of pearls had fully developed, so I extracted them to check.”
He unwrapped the handkerchief. I expected him to reveal beautiful pearls, but I was sadly wrong. Instead, the beads’ nacreous coatings were speckled and their shapes warped.
“Unfortunately, it didn’t work this time either,” Gabriel said.
“What could’ve gone wrong?”
“This is merely conjecture at this point, but I think the cores may have been the problem.” The cores we’d inserted into the mussels had been made from the oysters Emilie had sent us from the ogre duke’s territory. “I suspect that they weren’t compatible with, say, the mana contained within the mussels or the lake’s qualities, so the nacreous layer didn’t function as expected.”
“Would it be better for the cores to be made out of something native to Triste, then?”
“That was the conclusion I came to as well.”
In the ogre duke’s territory, cores were made from large shellfish. Triste didn’t have anything similar.
“For now, I’m thinking of using round cores made of powdered freshwater black mussels,” Gabriel continued. “I already made a prototype, and I’m going to try it tomorrow. When I first heard about the ogre duke’s aquaculture method, I thought it’d be easy, but it really isn’t working out well at all.”
“That’s not true. I think you’re making good progress, one step at a time.”
If we couldn’t perfect the pearls in time for the wedding, I could just decorate my wedding dress with Gabriel’s slime crystals. They’d definitely look beautiful too.
He seemed to have lost a bit of confidence, so I held his hand and said, “I know you can do it.”
“Thank you, Fran.” His eyes lit up, and I knew he would be fine.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Can you help me look for a suitable core material?”
“Of course!”
“I don’t expect the ones made from freshwater black mussels to work, because pearls are the product of a self-defense mechanism in response to a foreign object. The mana is also a factor, so it’s not a matter of inserting any perfectly round entity.”
“Do you have anything else in mind?”
“I’m thinking something from the same lake. Perhaps stones, crustacean shells, or mud.”
“Something from the lake... That’ll be tricky.”
“There are only so many hard materials you can find in the water. Fortunately, I’ve developed a spell to speed up the mussels’ recovery time. With that, they won’t need a rest period of several months. We can continue experimenting without burdening the mussels.”
“Please don’t overwork yourself, Gabriel.”
“I won’t. If I pushed myself too far and collapsed, I’d make you worry.”
We hugged each other and promised to make sure we’d prioritize our health.
My mother-in-law told me she wanted to speak with me when I had time. It was the first time she’d ever made such a request, and I couldn’t imagine what would prompt this, so I set aside time for it that same day.
“Miss Francette, are you sure?” she asked. “Aren’t you busy today?”
“I’ve finished the work that needed to be done.”
“I-I see.” Restless, my mother-in-law continued drinking her tea and let out a deep sigh. “Um, it’s almost Julietta’s birthday, and I’m thinking of getting her a present.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m sure she’ll be elated.”
“R-Really?”
“Of course.” I nodded firmly.
“Since she wed, I have never once given her a gift. It feels like it’s too late now.”
“That’s not true.” I shook my head. I could imagine Mrs. Molière jumping for joy upon receiving a present from my mother-in-law.
“What do you think would make her happy, Miss Francette?”
“Hmm...” She would probably love anything that my mother-in-law specially picked out for her, but we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now if my mother-in-law had been able to decide on something. So, I decided to give her some specific advice. “Mrs. Molière likes glamorous things, so how about asking a porcelain craftsman to make a tea set with violets on it?”
“I would’ve never thought of that. I’m sure Julietta would love that. I’ll order it right now. Thank you, Miss Francette!”
“I’m glad I could be of help.”
It was good to see my mother-in-law looking cheerful again.