Was it just my imagination, or did Clerivan look genuinely pleased as he brushed the wood chips off his clothes?
A brief silence fell over the classroom.
The children, myself included, blinked rapidly, too busy staring back and forth between the log in front of us and Clerivan.
“You mean… we’re supposed to sell that?”
Belesac was the first to break the silence.
He had been slouching in his spot all through the lesson but now sat up awkwardly, frowning as he asked.
“Yes, that’s correct. The task for this assignment is to sell this log and earn money from it.”
Belesac’s reaction didn’t faze Clerivan; his smiling face remained unchanged.
“You may use any method to sell it. You may chop it, split it, or even burn it if necessary.”
In short, it didn’t matter how, as long as you sold it.
“Hmmm…”
I also struggled to think of a clever approach.
As Clerivan had said, it was just a log—nothing special about it.
Even though Bibo wood was light for timber, there was no way I could carry it on my own.
Moreover, such wood was so common that I could probably only sell it to someone who needed firewood.
I was lost in thought, wondering how I could handle it.
“However, you may not force anyone to buy it using your status. You must sell it only to someone who truly needs it.”
“Ahh…”
A small sigh came from right beside me at Clerivan’s final condition.
Meiron and Giliu.
The two of them looked disappointed, their eyes drooping as they let out quiet sighs.
What were they thinking?
As I eyed them suspiciously, Larane, who had been quietly listening to Clerivan, raised her hand cautiously.
“Um…”
“Yes, Larane. Go ahead.”
“Do we… have to carry it ourselves?”
Her face turned bright red, clearly embarrassed to ask.
“Don’t worry about that. This is just a sample; one will already have been delivered to your quarters.”
“Oh, that’s a relief.”
She smiled, her pretty dimples deepening, likely relieved she didn’t have to struggle hauling that heavy log.
“I don’t want to.”
A sulky voice interrupted my admiration of the lily-like Larane.
I didn’t even need to look to know who it was.
Belesac, in a huff.
“Why do I have to do something like that?”
He spoke briefly, and sure enough, the smile left Clerivan’s eyes.
“What do you mean by ‘something like that,’ Belesac?”
“Selling things directly. That’s work for lowly people. Why should I do it?”
“And why do you think that is work only for lowly people?”
“My mother said it was beneath us. Handling money is vulgar work.”
It was so typical of Seral that I snorted.
Seral, from the distinguished Angenas family—second to none in the Lambrue Empire—was the very image of a ‘noble’ person.
In the past, dealing with money or trading directly was indeed considered unworthy of nobility.
But that was all long ago.
The Lombardis shocked the aristocracy by using commerce and the power of money to seize control of everything.
One by one, nobles realized the power of assets, lending dormant funds, or actively launching trade ventures.
Even the last to resist, the Angenas family, established the Durak Trade Guild to enter the textile market.
Yet Belesac, heir of the Angenas line, was still making such carefree remarks.
“In that case, it cannot be helped.”
Clerivan spoke, sounding regretful.
“I have no choice but to fail you in this assignment, Belesac.”
“Fail me?”
Belesac repeated the words dazedly, his face quickly turning crimson.
“Why am I getting a failing grade?”
“There is no alternative. This assignment is to sell the item, and you have refused to do so, leaving failure as the only option.”
“Then the teacher should just change the assignment! The problem is that the task itself is nonsense!”
“Is that so? Very well.”
That was it.
Clerivan neither scolded him nor tried to reason with him.
He simply turned away and addressed the rest of us, excluding Belesac.
“The money you earn from selling the wood is yours to keep, and there will be a prize for whoever earns the most. So give it your all.”
In the end, Belesac, completely excluded, huffed in frustration and slammed the door on his way out.
No one seemed to mind.
I moved a little closer to examine the log.
“Hmmm.”
I checked carefully to see if I was missing something, but it was just a normal log.
Clerivan had clearly said we could use any method we liked.
I squatted in front of the log, prodding the rough bark and furiously thinking.
Wood. How could I use wood?
If I tried to sell it as-is, I’d get barely anything.
Then it would need to be processed.
As that thought crossed my mind, a memory suddenly flashed.
Ah, there was that person.
The one who could turn this crude log into a work of art.
That person was in Lombardi right now.
The room my father and I used was more like an apartment than a simple room.
There was a single entrance, leading into a space that served as both living and reception room, with four attached rooms.
Compared to the quarters of my father’s other siblings, it was smaller, but perfect for us.
As long as my father didn’t scatter books all over the reception room like today.
I cautiously stepped through the room, careful not to step on any scattered books, and approached my father, who was intently drawing something.
“Dad…?”
“Oh, Tia, you’re out.”
Hearing my voice, he looked up and smiled warmly.
“Busy?”
“No, not particularly.”
He pushed the work aside that he had been so focused on.
Even if a daughter disturbed him, he could have been annoyed, but he instead pulled me into a tight hug.
“I actually have a request, Dad.”
“Oh? My Tia has a request? Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
“Well… I want you to draw something.”
“A drawing?”
He tilted his head.
“Yes. What should I draw? A flower? A tree? Or maybe a cute animal?”
“My grandmother’s face.”
“Your… grandmother’s face?”
He seemed quite taken aback by the request and simply blinked silently.
“I’m curious about what she looked like.”
She had passed away a few years before I was born.
I had seen the surviving portraits, but that was all.
Understanding my curiosity, my father scratched his cheek, retrieved the sketchbook he had set aside, and began drawing.
“It’s been so long since I last saw her… I don’t remember well.”
Even so, his hand moved swiftly across the paper.
Without hesitation, the graphite danced across the white sheet.
I quietly sat beside him, watching.
The only sounds were the scratch of pencil on paper.
“…She was a gentle person.”
“Wow!”
It wasn’t a fake cheer.
Seeing the finished drawing, I couldn’t help but be impressed.
In my father’s memory, grandmother wore a kind smile.
There were faint wrinkles around her eyes, and the downward curve of her mouth resembled my father’s.
Though drawn in black lines alone, her eyes conveyed her love for her son.
“My mother was really kind,” my father murmured wistfully.
He carefully tore out a sheet and handed it to me.
“Why did you suddenly want a drawing of your grandmother, Tia?”
“Well… there’s someone I want to show it to.”
“Someone to show it to?”
He seemed to want to ask more, but I rolled up the paper and hopped down from the chair.
“I’ll be back soon after a quick outing!”
“Out… outside?”
My father sounded momentarily confused, then called after me as I dashed out the door.
“Be careful not to fall!”
I won’t, Dad.
I’m not a little kid anymore!
Perhaps my father truly could see the future.
Thunk.
“Eek!”
As I ran toward my destination, I tripped over a stone sticking out from the path.
“Hup!”
I managed to save myself with all the strength and balance a seven-year-old could muster, but my snack pouch hanging at my waist fell to the ground.
Ah, my snack pouch.
A candy rolled out of the loosely tied pouch.
Fortunately, it wasn’t too dirty.
I quickly picked it up and brushed it clean before popping it into my mouth.
“Eek!”
What was that sound?
I turned to see two small heads peeking out from behind a distant wall.
Familiar heads.
“Come out.”
I called, but there was no response.
“Giliu, Meiron.”
Finally, the twins emerged sluggishly.
But their expressions were odd.
Giliu stared directly at me, while Meiron seemed restless.
“I ate something that fell on the ground.”
“You’re supposed to throw things away if they fall.”
Ah, they saw.
“Why…? Why are you like this?”
It was embarrassing to be caught eating candy that fell, but I decided to act boldly.
“You’ll die if you keep doing that, Tia.”
“Let’s go see Dr. Omali, Tia.”
The twins tried to pull me along by each arm.
“You won’t die from something like that.”
Annoying little pests.
“Why are you following me?”
Before they could answer, I changed the subject.
“Th-That’s…”
Luckily, the twins went silent, as if suddenly lost for words.
“If you have nothing to say, I’m leaving. Bye.”
I didn’t have time to waste here.
Meiron called after me urgently as I turned.
“We want to come too!”
“How do you know where I’m going?”
“We don’t, but it’ll be fun!”
“Yeah! Tia is fun!”
Are they teasing me?
I thought briefly, but one thing was certain: they wouldn’t listen if I told them not to follow.
“Then stay quiet and out of my way. I’m busy.”
“Got it!”
“We’ll be quiet!”
The twins nodded and smiled, their identical faces amusingly serious.
From a young age, they were already showing signs of beauty.
With my two golden-haired shadows in tow, I moved toward my intended destination again.
Though I tried to walk quickly, my legs were still too short to match my speed in mind.
“So, where are we going?”
Giliu asked casually, strolling beside me while I panted.
“You’ll see when we get there.”
Ugh, exhausting.
Luckily, the person I was looking for wasn’t far.
Among the large Lombardi estate buildings, on the outer edge yet the most lively spot, surrounded by houses unlike the quiet ones near the main building—
A tiny village where the Lombardi household staff and their families lived.
“Wow! Where is this?”
“I didn’t know the estate had a place like this!”
The twins gawked, unable to stop looking around.
“This is where the Lombardi household employees and their families reside,” I explained proudly, wiping sweat from my face.
“Now we just have to track them down.”
A genius sculptor who bloomed late in life, eventually crafting busts even of the emperor.
Alfeo Jan, now sixteen, was somewhere here in this village.
