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Kleta felt something was happening around her.
She rolled her eyes and looked at the two of them.
“L-Linden? So… what’s going on here?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. We should have asked Dun for permission first.”
Grace, needing Kleta’s approval above all else, raised her eyebrows and looked at her intently.
“Soap. May I help you sell it all?”
“….”
It sounded completely like a scam.
That was Kleta’s first impression of Grace, which she later revealed.
⋆★⋆
As Grace had guessed, the orphanage was in financial trouble.
There was no money left to skim off the top.
Kleta knew this, and Grace must have known as well. At first, she had thought they might be loan sharks, but their approach was very different.
“Usually, such people try to demand collateral first…”
So, she decided to accept Grace’s proposal, figuring it couldn’t hurt to try. Whether it sold or not didn’t matter. The soap they were currently selling was ordinary soap that the orphanage director had reprocessed after taking it with the orphanage’s money.
“So, I’m just melting the soap and preparing it as Linden instructed…”
Kleta let the children play in the orphanage yard while she melted soap in the kitchen, waiting for Grace.
After a while, a loud, heavy, hurried footstep echoed.
“…Huh, huff! Y-You’ve been waiting, right?”
“Madam, please go slowly. You might collapse.”
Grace appeared, panting, her mask tilted askew.
Benjamin carefully adjusted her mask back into place.
Grace was carrying two large baskets. His eyes stayed fixed on them, beaten by Grace’s stubborn insistence on carrying them herself.
Kleta also looked at the large baskets Grace carried.
“Those?”
At Kleta’s question, Grace set the baskets down on the table one by one.
“One is for soap-making and packaging tools, and the other is candy for the children.”
“Ah?”
“I have a lot of candy I don’t eat anymore.”
This wasn’t a lie. Candy lasts relatively long, and in the annex, several glass jars were filled with candy.
Grace had asked the servants for permission to take some. They laughed and told her to take as much as she wanted, even offering her entire jars.
Grace only needed one large jar.
“I like children.”
“Oh, I see.”
But considering she liked children, the amount of candy was quite substantial. Sensing this nuance, Grace awkwardly continued:
“There’s quite a lot of candy, right? I guess it’s fine to hand it out now…”
She muttered quietly to herself, looking at the candy. But since she also had to make the soap and felt a bit stuck, Benjamin noticed and spoke up.
“Shall I hand it out to the children?”
“Would that be alright?”
“Yes. I’ve looked after children before, so it’s fine. While you’re making soap, I’ll keep the children away from here safely, so don’t worry.”
Benjamin tapped his chest lightly with a bright smile and picked up the basket of candy.
“Sorry, please take care of this for me.”
“Don’t apologize for something like this. I’m happy to help.”
He truly meant it, and without making a sound, he left the kitchen. Watching him go, Grace started taking ingredients out of the baskets.
There were glass jars of sorted herbal tea leaves, a tin case storing pressed flowers, and alcohol spray.
“There’s a variety of tea leaves and several pressed flowers.”
These would look beautiful in transparent soap, luckily the orphanage had mostly clear soap prepared.
‘Apparently it’s fashionable to float flowers in tea lately.’
But she had never heard of flowers in soap being trendy. Perhaps the trend had passed or it had become common.
That wasn’t Grace’s concern.
Because it was festival time.
People were more generous than usual during festivals.
Grace added essential oils she had quietly taken from the bathroom into the melting soap, portioned it, mixed in various herb leaves, and poured it into molds.
Then, she neatly laid pressed flowers on top and sprayed alcohol over them.
Kleta watched Grace move efficiently with wide eyes.
“Do you usually do handicrafts?”
“Um, as a hobby.”
Even the original Grace had enjoyed making bookmarks and pressing flowers.
Grace hesitated briefly at using Kleta’s pressed flowers, but thought it was fine.
‘I think even the original Grace would have done the same.’
Moreover, unused flowers would eventually be thrown away.
Grace and Kleta opened windows for ventilation.
“While the soap sets, let’s prepare the packaging.”
“Yes.”
Grace sat down and immediately began making ribbons: three-tiered ribbons, double-colored ribbons, flower-shaped ribbons…
While Kleta made two ribbons, Grace made six.
“…You said it was a hobby?”
“Yes.”
Grace’s chubby hands worked skillfully, yet she didn’t seem aware of it.
She asked Kleta:
“How much do you plan to sell them for?”
“Um….”
Kleta hesitated to set a price and asked Grace:
“Considering the cost of materials… Oh, were the ingredients expensive?”
“They’re all from home.”
Grace’s home was a duke’s household; naturally, everything was top quality. She omitted this and simply said she brought them from home.
‘If she brought the herbal tea in its case, they’d know it’s premium.’
The leaves alone didn’t reveal much, but the cases clearly showed their quality.
“So, the cost of the materials I brought doesn’t need to be reflected in the price much.”
Kleta recalculated the price based on that.
“Then… maybe 450 Zen?”
Grace nodded.
“Then let’s sell them for 900 Zen.”
Twice the price.
“…What?”
It was a rather unscrupulous markup.
“That’s too high,” Kleta thought it wouldn’t sell at all, but Grace was sure it would.
‘It’s much better than before.’
A little later, Grace removed the finished soap from the molds and smelled it.
A pleasant aroma of herbs and oils wafted from the solid soap.
‘Must be because I used good ingredients.’
It wasn’t just an ordinary product—it was top quality. Though it was a loss in terms of cost, Kleta would never know.
Grace hummed to herself, then nodded.
“What if they all sell?”
“Eh?”
“Then next time, will you let me decide again?”
The pressed flower soaps Grace and Kleta had made were piled high. Kleta thought there was no way 900 Zen soap would sell.
She had suggested 450 Zen initially because Grace’s contributions looked expensive.
‘Originally, it would have been 200 Zen.’
Kleta gazed into the teal eyes behind the white mask. Strange, but now they seemed to sparkle.
“…Are you going to ask for a loan or something?”
“Oh, no. I’m not asking you to sell the building, hand over the children, or give yourself up.”
Grace denied every possible negative scenario Kleta might imagine.
Seeing all her fears systematically refuted, Kleta shivered in fear, unsure what Grace was proposing.
But in the end, she could only nod.
It was inevitable.
There was no other choice for her right now.
Once Kleta nodded, Grace glanced around, grabbed a kitchen knife from a stand, and asked:
“Do you have two large bowls?”
⋆★⋆
“Oh my, what’s that fragrance?”
Festivals always sell lots of food.
People move about, and vendors use all means to capture their attention; food appeals to both sight and smell.
“What a nice smell.”
It was just after lunch. Grace, tasting food Benjamin had bought, noticed the festival fare was often greasy, sweet, and strong in flavor.
After eating such food, people instinctively seek something to cleanse their palate.
Although not food, from a place with a fresh and fragrant scent, colorful transparent bubbles floated up into the air and popped! The children laughed merrily.
“Try blowing like this—puff.”
“Puff~”
Grace taught the children using inexpensive glass rings from the festival.
As the children blew through the glass rings, a transparent film formed, creating bubbles that floated gently in the air.
