Episode 19. What a Good Person
That evening, after finishing work and returning home, Adel washed herself clean.
In the mornings with sunlight, she took Lily for walks and practiced steady shooting aim while riding. So on quiet nights, she went to bed early.
Thanks to that, her evenings were short, and to handle laundry, organizing documents, and the like in that time, she had to move quickly.
Of course, the start of all those chores was filling her hungry stomach. Adel headed to the tiny kitchen attached to the small parlor next door.
She took out cheap rye bread she'd bought on the way home from its yellow paper bag. Right beside it, a few apples from neighbor Anna yesterday sat in a basket.
She tore off tough rye bread, put it in her mouth, and instead of water, chewed an apple.
Crunch.
Nom nom.
"Delithouth."
It was a delicious apple.
In truth, even if this apple hadn't been tasty, it would have been to Adel.
Apples are delicious. Not just this one—all apples were delicious to Adel. Usually, anyway.
Impressions matter with food. To Adel, apples were a very fragrant, sweet-and-tart delight. So as long as they weren't dry like beets, all apples tasted good to her.
Suddenly, she recalled when her impression of apples had been set.
It had been an intense time.
Thus, apples became her favorite fruit, infused with sadness, pain, and a will to live that overwhelmed it all.
So even now, eating a tasty apple made her choke up. Like back then. And now.
It was childhood.
Summer and her siblings, wandering, had briefly settled somewhere, where she helped with chores for homes that seemed well-off. But successive bad harvests left little charity in their granaries for street kids.
The root problem of Summer's vagabond life was that she couldn't settle as a maid in a wealthy house. Her pink eyes were too conspicuous, so estate stewards wouldn't hire her.
They shied from managing such a standout girl. The reason they couldn't refuse her persistent pleas outright stemmed from that. A child who'd eventually cause trouble for the masters. Anxiety from past experience.
Anyway, that year, Summer couldn't secure enough food from honest odd jobs around the neighborhood. A first since she'd grown somewhat capable. She ended up running errands for shady types too.
But to avoid her siblings being pointed at in their current neighborhood, she crossed the mountains to another town to hang around those thugs.
Summer was only ten then.
"Kid. You can do it, right?"
"Just mess up those folks' baskets really bad?"
"Yeah, that's it."
"Then you'll really give me 5 shillings?"
"Of course! You think we've only been conned?"
In the dark alley shadows, the shady men snickered.
Summer, before them, eyed the noble boy they'd pointed out and his surrounding servants. Out shopping in a group, they all carried loads regardless of male or female servant.
And uniformed men protected the boy and servants. Messing around there would surely get her limbs broken by those uniforms.
But 5 shillings.
Money desperately needed to buy her unfed siblings something since yesterday.
So even this absurd errand was urgent for Summer.
"All that stuff?"
"Yeah. That's why 5 shillings."
"Um, then, it's a promise?"
"This brat only been conned?!"
Summer didn't flinch at the bandit-like man's outburst. She just nodded. Besides the bandit face, sleazy and neat ones eyed her with 'Look at this brat's guts.'
Summer turned. Walked from the dark alley corner, tracking the now-distant group with her eyes.
Memorizing their basket positions precisely in eye and mind, she closed her eyes. Then dashed out blindly.
The kid plunging into the group, bumping wildly and falling, happened in an instant. Baskets tumbled, spilling expensive ingredients onto the ground.
"Oh dear, what happened?!"
"What's this, kid?!"
As expected, uniformed men rushed, grabbing Summer's nape to haul her up. But Summer flattened to the ground a beat faster.
"Sorry! Sorry! You okay? Sorry. A dog chased me, so scary!"
Fortunately, a big dog she'd bumped first barked fiercely at her.
Summer apologized, dirtied front clinging to the ground. But her face stayed stiffly up, upper body bobbing unnaturally.
Like a kid blind, unaware of the impressive people ahead.
"What? You can't see?"
"Yes. Sorry. Sorry. Hurt much? But dog's gone now, right? Right?"
Summer trembled violently, terrified.
Of course, an act. Mimicking a blind kid she'd once seen. Pitiful yet brazen.
The uniforms grabbing her roughly flinched. They'd feel that same pity they'd had seeing that kid.
"Really sorry. Sorry."
Summer clasped palms, begging. Fumbled the ground. Fruits, veggies, wrapped meats on dirt grazed her scarred little hands. Finally clutched in tiny palm.
"I'll pick up quick. All of it. Wait just a bit. Really sorry."
As the child groped blindly for items, servants' grumbles faded. She'd caused trouble, but punishing her felt awkward.
Then someone pushed through the halted crowd.
"What's this?"
"Young master, well..."
"A kid?"
Irritation in his tone. Summer found it absurd.
From memory, the boy wasn't much bigger than her. Yet he said 'a kid' so confidently. Amusing.
His speech alone screamed looking down on the world. But surprisingly, he listened gravely to servants' explanations. Drew a neat conclusion.
"Stuff? Buy more. Let's go."
Adel was intrigued. The arrogant tone now sounded kind. Power of preconceptions? Maybe the boy had unexpected compassion.
"Young master. But these cost a fortune..."
"Enough. Make the kid pay?"
"Still..."
Voice firm beyond his years.
Gentle dignity unlike any noble she'd met.
Summer recalled the boy's glimpsed face. But too tense focusing on baskets and uniforms, she couldn't picture it.
Footsteps approached. Surely the boy.
He knelt by dirtied Summer, shoved two apples from an intact basket into her arms.
"Y-Young master!"
Despite protests, his hand stayed firm. Summer clutched the apples reflexively.
Should she thank him? Lost in unfit thoughts, the boy rose and left without lingering.
"Let's go."
His simple order moved everyone briskly. Summer scrambled up, bowed vaguely toward his direction.
"Thank you. Thank you."
Then as if remembering something, she shoved through toward the boy. All planned.
Pretending leg hurt from falling, limping wildly. Intact baskets ahead bounced away.
"Enough already!"
A fed-up man grabbed her nape again.
"Stop."
But the kind, stern voice saved Summer once more.
Shoving groping through people, she reached the boy.
"What a good person. Blessings await. Truly thankful."
Eyes shut, Summer bowed repeatedly. Still clutching apples dear.
She pulled something from ragged sleeve, offered to the boy. Seeing it on her rough palm, the boy snickered.
