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Chapter 13
The ten-franc coin Uncle Guillaume had handed over was worth roughly 100,000 won.
It wasn’t exactly pocket change, but it wasn’t enough to fill the entire room with something extravagant, either.
The children sighed and frowned as they tried to figure out what to do.
“What could we possibly buy with just ten francs!”
Felix grumbled.
Couldn’t buy anything with ten francs? If the me from the past, who nearly got kicked out in the dead of winter for lacking even that, had seen him say that, I would have smacked him.
The other children didn’t speak up, but I could see they secretly agreed with Felix.
“This is why you need experience, you know.”
“What?”
“Even at the market, you could buy a whole basket of flowers—or a whole cartful!”
“Market? Why would I go to that filthy place?”
Watching Felix sigh like that, I briefly shot Uncle Guillaume a glance filled with pity.
Yet the very Mr. Hedebot, Felix’s father, made a high profit by fetching goods from that same filthy market across the sea.
Uncle Guillaume probably hadn’t expected such words from his son, as his mouth stiffened in response.
“So, Felix, what are you going to do?”
“Hmph! Obviously… they’ll just get it themselves!”
“What?”
He sounded so confident, no—so arrogantly sure that you’d almost think he had some kind of foresight suddenly bestowed upon him.
“Why are you surprised? You’re used to it, right? Merchants coming to us, begging us to buy their goods.”
“……”
“Selecting the most appropriate items from what they bring—that’s the ‘discernment’ a merchant needs. Right, Father?”
Ugh. When will I ever make a proper adult out of this idiot?
To think the son of a merchant would just lift a finger and expect to pick the items rather than actually going out and earning them himself… I was momentarily lost for words.
Uncle Guillaume, instead of replying immediately, gazed at his son with an unreadable expression before suddenly shifting to a sly, teasing smile.
“Well?”
The brief hesitation was so subtle that no one else would have noticed, but I, standing right beside them, could see everything.
A fleeting silence that could not hide his disappointment in his son, and perhaps the despair and resentment toward a father who didn’t praise him.
…Could there really be another reason Felix turned out like this?
Soon, the children huddled together, thinking hard.
But whatever trivial trinkets they could buy with ten francs were unlikely to be the “correct answer.”
Even I couldn’t come up with a truly good idea.
“Haha! Then let’s see at the next meeting. I’m excited to see what everyone buys!”
And with that, Uncle Guillaume left, leaving us with this “assignment,” walking off with a carefree air.
After the Madame Severin incident, our parents had created a new playroom in the mansion for Antoine.
It was spacious enough to run around freely, with soft carpets to prevent injury, naturally becoming the space where we spent most of our day.
I sprawled on the cushions piled near the sunny window, rolling around with Antoine, hugging any cushion I could grab, deep in thought.
“Hmm… I can’t think of anything suitable…”
What exactly did Uncle Guillaume want as an answer? Surely it wasn’t just about developing an eye for quality as a merchant.
And it couldn’t mean buying enough to fill the room with the coin’s worth of goods. Even adults would struggle with that.
So what was it really? Was he just expecting a good laugh at whatever the children bought?
I even wondered if he had just thrown out the idea on a whim.
Setting down the cushion I had been clutching, I collapsed again onto the floor.
A pleasant breeze drifted through the half-open window, tickling our forelocks.
It carried the scent of flowers, as if someone had walked through the garden. The large room instantly filled with a sweet fragrance.
‘The whole room smells so sweet?’
Wait a second.
This is it!
A flash. My eyes snapped open, and the tangled thoughts in my head suddenly cleared.
I didn’t need to fill the room with visible, tangible things, after all.
“Antoine! Want to go to the market with me? Let’s do Uncle Guillaume’s assignment!”
Buyers haggling to shave off a single penny, sellers refusing to budge—
Through them, a fish vendor strolled by, pulling a cart that reeked with the sharp scent of seafood.
“Eek!”
“Hey! Open your eyes!”
Across the street, a flower girl and a pickpocket exchanged glances, eyeing potential prey.
Hmm, the market looked just as chaotic as always.
“Sis… can we go somewhere else? This place smells weird.”
Antoine clutched my hand tightly, his little nose scrunched up as he complained in a muffled voice.
The windows were shut tight, yet an indefinable stench seeped in.
Camille, acting as our chaperone, looked uncomfortable and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket.
“Let’s hurry.”
After crossing a single bridge, Antoine could finally release his nose.
“Phew!”
His nose bright red from holding his breath, he opened the window wide and took a deep breath.
Across the river, the foul stench gave way to the sweet scent of baked bread.
Unlike the market that had assaulted our ears, eyes, and nose, the Rière Street, lined with guilds and workshops, felt almost like stepping into a palace.
Every store had spotless glass windows, and staff dressed in black silk vests over white shirts explained their goods to customers.
Even from a distance, their polished, polite demeanor revealed years of training.
After passing several shops, our carriage finally stopped in front of one particular workshop.
Tonel Workshop: House of Clockmakers, Third Generation
Of all the stores we had passed, this one stood out with especially large glass windows and a brass sign gleaming from afar—proof of its prestige.
“Sis, where are we?”
“A clock workshop. They make clocks and mechanical devices.”
Antoine ran to the window, eager to peer inside, ready to slip in entirely to explore.
“Wow… there are so many amazing things.”
“All of these items are crafted carefully by the artisans. Promise me you’ll only look, no touching, okay?”
“Okay!”
He certainly gave a good answer.
Inside, a receptionist with rolled-up sleeves and a black apron greeted us.
“Welcome!”
Behind round glasses, her kind eyes smiled warmly. A name tag read Emily Tonel.
Emily Tonel—she would become the greatest mechanician in the history of Loir, and later the first woman inducted into the Royal Academy of Science Hall of Fame.
