Chapter 51
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Dear, I believe you may be misunderstanding.
Episode 51
"Come this way, Grace. How often have you visited the Eastside?"
"Not very often, just occasionally."
Selena laughed with apparent delight at Grace's response.
"Young people don't usually care for this area, do they?"
"I do. There are so many old shops here."
"Oh my, we have excellent taste in common. I'm rather fond of things that have aged gracefully as well."
The Eastside possessed a distinctly weathered charm compared to Central Park or the West.
Central Park, frequented primarily by the middle and upper classes, brimmed with modern establishments and vibrant energy.
The West was an affluent district.
Opera houses and exclusive tea establishments lined the streets, alongside gardens and social gathering venues.
The Eastside was the oldest neighborhood, yet the least developed.
Consequently, it remained quiet and sparse.
Commoners and lower-ranking nobility frequented the area, and elderly regulars often visited shops that appeared to have stood for decades.
Decades ago, the Eastside had supposedly bustled with activity rivaling Central Park.
Older visitors seeking memories of those days were what kept the Eastside from fading entirely.
Yet Grace's reasons for visiting were far less sentimental.
'Our Orphanage is just beyond that intersection.'
Grace felt a pang of concern for the Orphanage she hadn't visited in some time.
The Orphanage I sponsored couldn't accommodate many children, but I ensured every meal and education were provided.
I had built an Elementary School beside the Orphanage so that nearby children could learn to read and write together.
I often brought worn books to fill the shelves and occasionally taught the children myself.
The preservation method I developed had come about while inspecting the Orphanage.
On my first day there, the children had gathered to eat grass they'd pulled from nearby fields.
One child held out the grass to me and spoke.
'The stems of this grass taste sweeter the more you chew them. It's actually quite edible. If you grind it finely and mix it with flour to bake, it's quite filling.'
That grass was called Conea, a common weed throughout Zeronium.
With its bumpy, unattractive leaves and tendency to grow anywhere, it was among the most despised plants.
Yet when I tasted it, the flavor was surprisingly pleasant.
Moreover, Conea's fruit was round and firm, and when split open, densely packed inside.
Eaten raw, it was flavorless and hard to chew, but when I peeled the skin slightly and steamed it, it became quite palatable.
I spent over a year researching this abundant plant, steaming, drying, and grinding it in various ways.
By combining it with complementary simple ingredients and experimenting with different flavors, I eventually created a preservation method that could sustain people over long periods.
When I poured a little water into the powder made by repeated steaming and drying, then heated it, a soup-like consistency formed instantly.
Paired with dried bread or milk, it became quite a respectable meal.
During the particularly harsh winter two years prior, the Orphanage survived by relying on the preservation method I had created.
The following autumn, Kelly, the Orphanage director, expressed a desire to share this with another director she considered a sister, and I gladly prepared it for her.
The director I was introduced to then recommended me to yet another Orphanage.
Furthermore, it was introduced to a care facility for abandoned elderly and to a small community where disabled individuals lived together.
That autumn, I worked tirelessly with the orphans to produce dried provisions, selling them at a pittance.
Yet a considerable sum accumulated, and with that money, I repaired the Orphanage and supported the children.
Word of these dried provisions eventually reached even the Orphanage sponsored by Princess Fresia, the King's sister.
Had the dried provisions made such an impression on her?
The Princess requested the King's permission to invite me to the castle, and inquired in detail about how the dried provisions came to be created.
I explained without reservation, though somewhat nervously.
About the children who ate grass for lack of food, the roots of the plants they favored, and the roughly year-long period of research that followed.
"You are truly remarkable, Grace Oellin."
The young King was deeply impressed by my account.
Princess Fresia too spared no praise.
Used properly, it was a food source that could prove invaluable not only during droughts but also in times of war, or during monsoons and dry seasons alike.
Moreover, when it was discovered that the processed plant possessed exceptional detoxifying properties, the academic world was thrown into upheaval.
That seemingly worthless weed had become a beneficial plant that helped countless people!
I was recognized for my contributions and received an independent title and a modest reward.
In the seven-hundred-fifty-year history of Zeronium, this was an extraordinarily rare and honorable achievement—bestowed upon only four people.
That had occurred the previous year.
After that incident, Norman's harassment intensified, and Capren Oellin was delighted that I could now marry into a better family with a larger dowry.
"What's wrong, Grace? Your expression looks bitter."
"Oh, it's nothing. I just... remembered some unpleasant things from the past for a moment."
Selena, walking beside me with a parasol, glanced over and smiled softly.
The two of us walking through this faded, worn street seemed oddly vibrant.
"You know, Grace."
"Yes?"
"Do you know why I love old things?"
"No, I'm not sure."
What was she suddenly talking about?
I asked carefully for the reason.
Selena took a deep breath of the distinctive parchment scent of Antique Bookstore Street and spoke.
"Because they carry the past."
"The past?"
"New things and old things have different colors. Even if made from identical materials and methods, objects that have endured time possess a unique hue."
Selena, who had drawn closer, linked her arm through mine.
Unaccustomed to such intimate contact, I stiffened involuntarily.
Glancing at me, Selena gently stroked my forearm as we walked arm in arm.
As if to say it was all right, very gently and softly.
"That worn color is proof of having endured and overcome the past. Because of the past, you gain a unique color that no one else can replicate. Even if a similar new thing appears, it is merely an imitation. Nothing can surpass time. It's similar to the matter of effort."
What was she trying to say?
As tense as I was from her closeness—close enough to feel her warmth—I listened all the more intently to her voice.
"I think humans are similar. Of course, humans and objects are different. But precisely because they are different, I think humans are all the more remarkable."
Selena recalled her own past.
"There is no creature as fragile as mankind. Humans take their own lives over despair, become ugly from hunger, and transform into monsters for love."
I thought of myself—powerless after losing Felix, the one I loved.
Those days when I no longer wished to live or smile.
Those dark and agonizing days when I believed that once he was gone, my life had ended as well.
"I believe that for such fragile beings to rise above their past requires tremendous courage and perseverance. Just as your past has accumulated to create who you are now, Grace."
Fortunately, I still had family I loved as dearly as Felix.
Beloved children who knocked on my door every day, coming to wake me.
Pitiful sons waiting for their mother, trapped in her room by sorrow.
I had stepped outside, and now I spent each day grateful simply to be alive.
Because I was alive, I could witness that stoic son of mine fidgeting and shifting awkwardly before such a beautiful young lady.
Selena gently caressed Grace's gaunt cheek.
The warmth against her skin was unfamiliar, and watching her flinch with surprise tugged at Selena's heart.
"I don't know what kind of time the Grace of your past endured, but I find that past version of you truly admirable and wonderful."
She was a brave young lady who, knowing her betrothed became reasonable when angry, did not flee.
Though she appeared to carry much suppressed emotion, which was heartbreaking, there was an elegance about her that prevented her from seeming pitiful.
Regardless of Lucas Black's choice, Selena had taken a liking to Grace at first sight.
"Because it is that very past which has created the Grace before me now—so beautiful, so kind, so lovely."
Perhaps for that reason, I found myself wanting to comfort her.
I wanted to encourage her, to pat her shoulder reassuringly.
'It may be overstepping, it may be presumptuous.'
It didn't matter what it was called.
I simply wanted to do it, so I did.
'...Look at this—she makes such an expression with just a few words. My heart is absolutely breaking for her.'
Selena gently patted my shoulder once more, her clear violet eyes gazing steadily at me.
Beyond those firm purple eyes, I could see something trembling within.
"Shall we go? I can't remember the last time I walked arm-in-arm with someone like this. How thrilling. I'd like to enjoy that café's pound cake with this excited heart. I do hope the taste hasn't changed."
"...I'll treat you."
"My, really? Then may I also have the lemon pie?"
"I was worried you'd say you'd only have one. Of course. Please, have as much as you'd like."
The two of them walked side by side into the oldest shop on the street.
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org