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312. Siblings Ep – Flower Language

/ “Yes, Older Brother. I gave the King medicine,” I said, and you yelled at me. But I gave you a chance. Leisia could have loved you.

Everything could have turned out well. /

─ Excerpt from Baneka’s journal.

+ + +

The scruffy beggar’s morning begins with a surreal feeling. As he curls up against the cold, swallowing a mixture of strange substances with his saliva, his eyes open.

But he doesn’t move right away.

Habitually, he takes a deep breath for a sigh, the air settling on the ground is clear and cool. In this moment, he feels the weight of time that is fair to everyone but worthless.

With trembling eyes, he scans the surroundings, inadvertently exhaling what he had just breathed in through his nose.

Slowly.

As he breathes out, he fills his empty lungs with excuses and reasons, and the absurdity of the world becomes more bearable, relieving some of the gripping pain in his chest. A rumble—hunger hits and drives away the futile réveil.

Then he’s ready. To live another meaningless day.

My name is Javard.

Javard Hopfenheim.

“Hey. Ahem. Hey, wake up.”

He was audacious enough to wake others while not getting up himself. Javard poked the person next to him with his knee and closed his eyes again.

*

He roams the market early in the morning. Beggars who picked up discarded food last night or were lazy rummage through the trash now. Javard just gives instructions.

Part of it is because one of his arms is twisted, but being born as a lesser son of the Hopfenheim Baron family, he knows how to boss people around.

Occasionally, Javard sniffs, differentiating between what’s edible and what’s not, finishing his morning routine.

After wandering through the market, it would soon be time for pedestrians to start gathering. The beggars avoided the merchants’ gaze, sneaking into alleyways. There was nothing good to be gained from angering them, as they too had places to go.

The North Gate.

They went to wash themselves in the lake north of Orville. At this hour, beggars could freely pass through the gates.

From early morning until midday, numerous water carts fetched water from the lake to supply the massive city, and the guards couldn’t check every single one of them.

It was during this time that they would return.

The reason the guards turned a blind eye knowing this was that if they prohibited it, the beggars would simply ride the water carts, which was considered unsanitary in many ways.

The beggars leisurely passed through the gates. Of course, they weren’t really going all the way to the lake; they stopped partway. The lake was much farther than expected.

Was there really any need to go a distance that would take at least an hour? They set down their belongings in an open area not far from the North Gate, and several water carts approached and stopped.

“Did you sell a lot today?”

“Just about. Hurry up and use it.”

These were the water carts heading to dump water at the lake.

Water doesn’t always sell out immediately. There’s some competition to it, and it’s common to have more than half left over. Dumping water in the city is illegal, so it stalled the carts headed to dispose of it.

As time passed, the water became sticky.

Dumping it into the lake was labor-intensive, but reducing back-and-forth trips was beneficial for everyone.

The beggars pulled down buckets full of water from the carts and used them freely. The cart owners were chatting with each other while smoking cigars.

“Ugh, it’s getting chilly.”

“Right? Captain, let’s come only once every five days from now on. The weather is turning cold.”

Javard shrugged his shoulders, washing himself like the other beggars.

“If you’re already like this, what are you going to do in winter?”

“Ah— honestly, the Captain is a bit unreasonable. Other teams come once a month. There’s really no need to come every day…”

Javard shook his head and pointed a finger.

“The clothes we wear, the shoes, the blankets in our homes. We owe everything to Oberg. So we have to keep our promise. There’s no harm in getting clean, and besides, it’s about time to visit.”

Tch. That’s true.

Some beggars grumbled, but Javard pacified them and maintained the status quo. Keeping his promise with Oberg was important to him.

Rauno Family.

There’s something there. Maybe there’s a way to wash away my long-standing grudge.

Feeling his broken arm tingle, Javard returned to the execution ground with the beggars. Like always, Javard Hopfenheim caught the scent of fresh blood.

From his parents, wife, and relatives. His arm trembled before settling down.

“Let’s hurry up and prepare a meal.”

There wouldn’t be pots and firewood for the starving beggars. Gathering what they could find and sharing was all they could do. Still, perhaps sensing their imminent death, Javard chose the best food items to bring to those beggars unable to move.

Badly put, it was insurance.

He wouldn’t want to die suffering from hunger after falling sick one day.

In reality, it wasn’t even a specific intention; it was just that beggars had no reason to be harsh towards others.

After all, they found what they could, and if they were going to live so miserably, they might as well be thieves. It’s pitiful for beggars, but there was a kind of compassion that emerged from it.

Thus, gulping down their raw food, one by one, the beggars lay down.

The stronger young orphans and young men went off to tend to other matters, and the rest began to doze off, patting their full stomachs.

For some reason, Javard couldn’t sleep today. He wandered around the open space where the execution ground used to be, pestering the napping beggars for a moment, when suddenly a civilian stepped into the beggar’s lair.

Even with a shabby cloak and hood, Javard recognized him at once.

He was no beggar. And,

[ Quest: Traitor 10/10 – {Royal Blood} ability level increased. ]

“You’re quite the famous person nowadays. What brings you here?”

The time for revenge was approaching. Slowly but surely, the young man stepped forward, digging into his past.

“Javard Hopfenheim. The appearance of a chamberlain from the House of Tatalia is quite a sight.”

*

“Ho ho.”

The Chicken Shop Owner smiled brightly while busying his hands.

Customers constantly flocked in. He reveled in the fact that the food he had purchased that day ran out in less than two hours.

He sold off the store that was in the market.

In this cheap land, near the South Gate, he opened a new store, primarily intending to study cooking rather than to make money.

The extra money from selling the store was used for living expenses, and he returned to his initial goal of studying cooking. Ideally, he wanted to open a restaurant capable of handling not just chicken, but all types of food…

For a while, he couldn’t avoid failure.

‘Why?’ — At first, he was flustered.

No matter how unfamiliar he was with ingredients other than chicken, he was still a chef. He thought that he couldn’t possibly fail to catch the taste of customers on the outskirts whose lives were no different from those in the central area of Orville.

However, it was said that the restaurant votes with feet, and even customers who praised his food as “really delicious” ended up going to the next-door store run by the nasty old lady, indicating there was something he didn’t understand.

What could that be? Even after visiting the next door, his food was better.

Then one day, he heard the problem through the mouth of a young lady.

She was an attractive girl wearing a lavender-colored skirt. He didn’t even know her name, but she ran a shoe store not far away.

“The taste is good, but it’s unnecessarily expensive.”

“…Huh? But even just for the ingredients, I’ve spent… I put a lot of care into that food; that’s an unreasonable accusation.”

“Just be honest. And it’s not that the food is bad. It’s just too expensive and burdensome. At the old lady’s place next door? You could have three meals for that price.”

Three meals! That’s an insulting remark for a chef. But he had to admit her point had merit. Even within the same Orville, this was relatively a poorer area.

“…Alright. I’ll rework the recipe. If you don’t mind, could you come again tomorrow? Oh, by the way, I heard you work around here, so let’s get to know each other. I’m…”

The owner introduced himself. The girl smiled and replied.

“Call me Kasia.”

“So it was Kasia. Thanks for the advice. Then… I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

“…Sure.”

She left the shop looking somewhat gloomy, and after that, the owner began to fare better.

He realized that he didn’t need to use excessive techniques in his cooking. The flashy presentation that concentrated all his efforts on plating and the overwhelming use of spices didn’t compare to focusing on the taste of the main ingredients.

Surprisingly, the food became more flavorful, and the prices fell. Customers who had brushed past returned.

“It’s all thanks to you, Miss Kasia.”

“…What? When are you going to stop calling me ‘Miss Kasia’? I’d prefer you just call me by my name.”

Dark hair.

She said it casually, but the owner’s heart raced. He realized he was an oblivious fool.

He hadn’t been the only one with feelings. At this age, he hadn’t considered he could meet someone to share romantic feelings with.

In his early thirties. He had entered middle age.

When he was young, he had learned to cook under a strict master, saved money to open a store while still young, and then struggled to maintain it. Marriage was something he never even dreamed of.

Had Miss Kasia been the same? He’d heard she was an orphan… it seemed her life had been less than smooth.

The owner prepared flowers.

Purple balsam flowers, which seemed to be her favorite. Before, he had been asked by a girl at the flower shop in the central market what he was buying them for, but the old bachelor felt embarrassed about his age and answered it was a secret.

Soirin said,

“Does he have a daughter? Well, he wouldn’t be planning to confess at his age.”

Thinking lightly of it. It was the worst flower to give for a confession. But since it could dye your fingernails with the petals, it could be considered a practical and fun flower.

And so, with a fluttering heart, he hid the flowers and spent a busy lunch hour, when suddenly a beggar entered. It seemed he had come to beg from the nearby beggars’ lair. He had to chase him away, so he approached.

“Ugh?!”

“Oh? Hahaha! I thought you had vanished, but here you are. First of all… this person is my companion.”

“Ah, I see.”

It was a noble he had met two months ago.

Why does this gentleman always bring beggars with him? At least he wasn’t as dirty as that girl from before… The owner guided them to a seat and handed them the menu.

Although the prices were low, the dishes had become infused with confidence. The meals came out quickly with his skilled hands. The two guests who arrived at this ambiguous time between lunch and dinner talked for a while while eating, and soon after they left.

Kasia should arrive soon now.

There was no significant meaning in it, but he combed his hair neatly and adjusted his chef’s hat properly.

It was common for food to stain a chef’s clothes, but he had changed into a new outfit and waited impatiently. Until she arrived, as she always did, to eat alone.

A balsam flower petal fell, plop.