“Blue, about what you said yesterday…,” Brigitte began.
Her little visitor nodded solemnly.
Her spirit still hadn’t responded to her many attempts at communication, and Blue had claimed to know the reason. It was the promise of a child, of course, but Brigitte was desperate enough to hear it out.
Blue stopped swinging their feet and peered at Brigitte, who was sitting in a chair.
“Your house is skilled at fire magic, right?” the child asked.
“Yes.” She nodded.
There was no question about that. The family she was born into—the household of the Earl of Meidell—had thrived for generations as the Fire Clan, enjoying high favor with the king. There were nine magical orders: fire, wind, water, earth, flower, thunder, ice, light, and dark. Strictly speaking, there were also rare types of magic that did not fit within these orders, but generally, magic was limited to the nine. Of those, the core orders were fire, wind, water, and earth. Certain families specialized in each, just as the Meidells were known for fire and the Aurealises for water.
“Do you know why my spirit won’t show itself?”
“I certainly do,” Blue declared. “It won’t come out because you’re afraid of fire.”
“!”
Brigitte stared at the child.
Because I’m afraid?
She knew she was scared of fire. To her, it was both the object of terror that had burned her hand, and her father himself. That was why she had avoided flames. Even now, the mere flicker of a thought of it set her shaking with fear. Blue frowned as she unconsciously covered her left hand with her right.
“I can certainly understand why,” the child said.
“…?”
It was a bit of an odd thing to say. Did Blue mean to say they knew what her father had done to her?
“…But I pity your spirit,” Blue continued, adding in a whisper, “and that I cannot abide.”
Brigitte finally understood. She had been wondering all along why Blue had followed her home despite seeming to despise her. The answer was simple. The child didn’t care about Brigitte; they were fixated on her spirit.
That reminds me—it was Yuri’s spirit who invited me to their house yesterday…
She took in the sight of Blue again. It wasn’t unusual for spirits to take human forms. As a future spiritologist, she ought to be able to tell the difference. But Blue seemed to mistake her examination for a glare and leaned away.
“What?!” the child snapped.
“…You’re saying that if I overcome my fear of fire, my spirit will show itself?” she asked.
Blue nodded with satisfaction. “Exactly.”
That was when Sienna stepped in protectively. “Wait just one moment. As Miss Brigitte’s waiting maid, I cannot agree to that.”
“Sienna?”
“Overcoming your fear of fire means studying it at close range, even handling it, correct? I will not permit you to do anything so dangerous.”
She had a point. In the past, Brigitte had fainted if flames were too near. It was natural for a waiting maid to be wary of danger to her mistress…but Brigitte knew Sienna genuinely cared about her, too. Still, Brigitte shook her head.
“No, Sienna, one day even I will have to face my fears.”
“Miss…”
Spiritologists served as bridges between spirits and humans. They needed the skills to counsel beings from both worlds and help solve their problems. What good would a spiritologist be if they refused to have anything to do with one of the four major orders?
And how awful that my spirit has been unable to appear because of my fears…
Blue had said they pitied her spirit. Brigitte did, too. She didn’t want the current situation to continue forever, either. Also, her spirit had lent her its power to stop the ariel’s rampage, even though it knew Brigitte hated fire. What a kind being. She hoped to thank it directly one day.
“Blue, what exactly should I—?”
“Hey, miss!”
The door slammed open as Carson came barging in with no concern whatsoever. His short light-red hair was sticking up in all directions. He was sixteen, like Brigitte, and served as assistant cook and pâtissier at the cottage. It was normally unheard-of for one person to serve both roles in an upper-class residence, but since there weren’t many servants at the cottage, he was training in both.
His great-grandmother was a member of the Meidell family who’d eloped with a commoner. Although her energetic descendant and Brigitte were only distant relatives, they got along well, and Carson treated her like a sister. Which is to say, he was quite rude.
“Please address her as Miss Brigitte, not ‘hey, miss,’” Sienna scolded for what was probably the hundredth time.
As usual, he said, “I know, I know,” before immediately reverting to “So, miss, how about some baked sweet potatoes?”
Sienna let out a long sigh.
“Sweet potatoes?” Brigitte asked, blinking at him.
But Blue leaped up, eyes full of fight. “…That’s it!”
“Huh? What is?”
“You’ve got to use fire to bake sweet potatoes, right?”
That was obvious, but Brigitte realized what Blue meant.
“You mean I should light a fire in the garden?”
“What? Bake sweet potatoes in the garden? …Miss, are you sure you’ll be all right?” Carson seemed worried. He knew her story.
But if she had to do this to meet her spirit… She faked a confident nod. “Absolutely. Will you get everything ready, Carson?”
“…Your word is my command!”
He ran out as abruptly as he’d burst in, while Blue skipped after him.
“Potatoes, potatoes, potatoes…”
Does this scamp just want to eat sweet potatoes?
She didn’t say anything, though. Blue was too sweet, frolicking along, and their smile was too rare for her to ruin it.
I wonder if Yuri looks like this when he lets his guard down…
Of course, she didn’t say that out loud.
It was a blazing midsummer day.
To skip to the end of the story, Nathan, the head chef, instantly shot down the idea of any sweet potato parties in the garden.
“What kind of fool would roast anything outside on a day like this? You want to kill yourselves?” he shouted.
Carson deflated for a minute, then quickly decided to revert to his original plan of cooking something in the kitchen.
He told them that while sweet potatoes were normally harvested and cooked in fall, some new varieties ripened in summer. They were a little smaller and less sweet than the fall potatoes.