Norman Smith, in a nutshell, is a "stubborn craftsman." He is skilled but too stubborn, dislikes socializing, and remains unmarried even past sixty. I have asked him for work many times, but the words we exchanged could be counted on one hand. The man who poured his passion into his work—this Norman, who took on a young apprentice, piqued my interest. I wondered what kind of person he was and wanted to see his face.
—It can't possibly be Anastasia.
But at the same time... even if it were her, it would be fine.
Mary's abnormal inferiority complex towards her sister is likely due to the guilt of causing her death. If she were alive, that stress would be relieved.
Then, I just need to declare it properly. In front of the two young ladies, I will take Mary Chedelain's hand and propose, "I like you." That will do. That will resolve everything—
"Please wait. I will guide you to Mr. Norman."
At Mio's words, I stood up. Mary was still sitting, looking dazed. When I urged her, she hurriedly stood up, looking pale.
Norman, after passing through the door Mio opened, immediately knelt down. He bowed his head and greeted me.
"It's been a while, Earl Granado."
"...Ah, it has been a while."
I was relieved for a moment.
Norman was not senile. It was impossible for him to mistake the gender of his housemate or miss a notice in the capital.
It seemed to be a case of mistaken identity. I laughed at the quick resolution and approached Norman.
"You haven't changed, Norman. You seem surprisingly well."
"Yes, I haven't even caught a cold... and the reason you called me is..."
"Ah, I'm sorry for the trouble, but there wasn't any particular reason. I just wanted to see how you were after your sudden retirement and then your sudden return to work—by the way, why did you retire?"
My steps and words stopped mid-way.
It was only when I got closer that I noticed. Norman's eyes were closed.
—A gasp came from behind, where Mary was holding her breath.
Mio, standing beside Norman, had a bitter expression.
"Three years ago, a heated metal fragment burst through his protective goggles and damaged his eyeballs. Mr. Norman is almost completely blind now."
Norman opened his eyes. His dark pupils were clouded, and his gaze was unfocused. The old craftsman spoke to a space where I was not.
"I can still see light and dark, and colors. Surprisingly, it doesn't inconvenience me much in life."
"...So, that's... good."
"Craftsmanship, my hands remember the work. But I can't read the order forms, so I can't take orders or order materials. I thought I couldn't work, so I retired."
"...What about... sculpting human faces and bodies?"
"For familiar people, I can manage. New customers are not a problem either. My apprentice handles the reception—"
I interrupted Norman and shouted.
"Mio! What happened to Norman's apprentice? I told you to bring her here."
"He is still in the carriage."
Mio replied. My use of "her" and her use of "he" made Mary's gaze waver between us.
"Carriage? Norman, why isn't your apprentice coming in with you?"
"Ah, that boy, he started complaining as soon as we reached the castle. He said he couldn't appear before the Earl in such a dirty work outfit and demanded a change of clothes."
"Change of clothes..."
"Usually, he wears my old nightgowns or patched-up old clothes. Please forgive me, but could you give us a little more time?"
Norman, defending his son, sounded like a protective father or a doting grandfather. Since he said he would bring him in, there was no need to rush. However, there was something I needed to confirm.
"Norman, it's a strange question, but how did you know the person was a boy with your vision?"
"Huh? Well, he said so..."
Norman's voice was genuinely surprised. It was not an act or a lie. But with Norman's vision, the truth was not guaranteed. I looked at Mio. She had been in the carriage with the boy for a long time. However, Mio shook her head.
"He was indeed dressed in men's clothing and looked like a boy. But he wore his hat low and didn't respond to any questions. ...I can't be certain."
"...I see."
"What is it, Earl? Do you think I kidnapped and kept a woman?"
Norman growled and then started shouting.
"That's a joke! I would never allow a woman in my workshop!"
"Ah, no, I didn't mean that—"
I hurriedly tried to explain, but Norman's anger did not subside. He was not angry because he was suspected, but because he was defending his apprentice. He approached me with a look that seemed ready to grab me.
"Arthur is a fine apprentice. He's still a novice but has talent. Most importantly, he has the drive and determination! In the three months since he came to me, how many sketchbooks do you think he filled with designs? He learned all the names of the colors, can distinguish different types of needles, and made a grand costume from old and leftover materials. Can any of those girls do that!"
"I get it, I get it, I'm sorry."
"No, you don't get it at all!! Arthur is—"
I couldn't back away. Confused, I heard a bright laugh from behind. Mary was laughing.
"Mr. Norman, you really care for your apprentice, don't you?"
That seemed to take the wind out of Norman's sails. He slumped and bowed his head again.
"...I apologize. I know I should have reported to the lord if I was protecting a child. But I was afraid that if Arthur was wrongly suspected and taken away, I couldn't bear it."
The man, who was usually a stubborn craftsman, now looked like a pitiful old man. I knelt down and leaned closer.
"Was it just you who didn't want to be separated? What about Arthur's parents?"
"He doesn't talk much about them. They were apparently very bad parents. When I found him, he was penniless... wandering in the capital."
—The capital?
I frowned.
"Wandering in the capital. You didn't save him from the canal?"
"Canal? Earl, I'm almost blind. I don't have the strength to save anyone, and I don't go near the river."
"I see. I see..."
But it was too early to conclude. I asked more detailed questions about the situation at the time.
Arthur was found in the early morning in the capital, not at night by the canal. He was hungry and exhausted, but his hair and skin were not wet, and he was wearing clothes—dry men's clothes. As an expert in clothing, Norman could tell they were men's clothes even though he could only see colors vaguely.
He was not sold due to a carriage accident but because of his family's poverty. As a male prostitute.
Moved by his plight, Norman asked Arthur to become his apprentice.
—Damn, it's just too much. Hey, old man, make me your apprentice. I'm not going back to that rotten family or to those who buy people's asses with money. I refuse that life—
"Did Arthur say those exact words? Word for word!?"
"Hehe, yes. He's quite a talkative boy."
Norman laughed heartily. At that moment, I was finally convinced.
Ah, it was indeed someone else. The deep-seated noble lady could not have cut such a bold figure.
The possibility of Anastasia's survival was now gone. Of course, it was sad and disappointing. If she were alive, everything would have been a happy ending.
But it was better to have a clear conclusion than to refuse to accept her death. Mary's heart would eventually heal with time.
Thinking this, I turned around, and Mary was smiling.
Her eyebrows were lowered, her cheeks flushed, and she was laughing softly. I smiled too.
"Norman, you found a good apprentice."
"Yes, indeed. He's quite a noisy one."
"It's good that Norman's workshop will be secure in the future. Leave the rest to me. I'll make sure it's good for both of you."
"Thank you... I appreciate it."
Norman bowed deeply.
For now, the problem was resolved. It was time for a bit of the lord's work. I signaled Mio to take notes.
"We should contact his family, at least. What is Arthur's family name? And his approximate address?"
"Ah... I'm sorry, I don't know..."
"Then we'll ask him when he comes."
"Speaking of which, he's late. I'll go and fetch him."
Mio said this and left the salon. While waiting for them, I asked Norman a few more questions. Each time, Norman shook his head.
"He doesn't talk much about his past. He seems to not want to go back to his family. I've asked him many times, 'What's your family name? Is Arthur even your real name?'—and he replies in a playful tone.
'You're annoying. I don't have a name. I'm just a stray cat'—"
I laughed. What a theatrical line.
“...!”
I heard a strange sound from behind, almost like a silent scream.
But I didn't turn around. I was interested in and fond of this brave and spirited boy who could cut such a bold figure in front of this tough craftsman. I leaned forward and asked.
"He's an interesting kid, suited to be a craftsman. How is his skill?"
"His craftsmanship is still lacking, but his sewing is exceptional. He made several outfits from scraps on his own."
"That's impressive. Was his family in that line of work?"
"No, probably just his hobby. When I told him he could use the workshop's tools, materials, and high-quality buttons, he jumped for joy—oh, right, I almost forgot!"
Norman suddenly spoke loudly and pulled out a large box from a bag beside him.
"I'm late with my greeting. Congratulations on your engagement, Earl. I'll use the completion of that ring as a gift, but this is a small present. Please accept it."
"Present? What is it? Can I open it?"
"Of course—but it's not from me. It's a gift from Arthur to your fiancée."
"To Mary?"
As I asked, I turned to look at her—only to find she was backing away. Her face seemed pale. When I called her, she shook her head and moved further away.
What was bothering her? Was she wary of this gift?
I opened the box and checked the contents first.
...It was a coat. A glossy white overcoat made of thick, high-quality fabric, the kind used for a knight's formal attire. Delicate embroidery with thick gold thread, ivory buttons, and impressive fringes. It was elegant but had no frills or lace. I tilted my head.
"This for Mary? It looks like a men's design."
"Yes, but it's meant for a woman. Hehe, it's an interesting idea. His hobby is to dress tall, dignified women in men's clothing—"
Hmm? Quite an unusual hobby. But it was well-made. When I took it out of the box, the length was average for a man, but the shoulders and sleeves were narrow, and the cut followed the curves of the chest and waist. It seemed to fit Mary's figure perfectly.
I imagined her in it, a grand and dignified figure, and lowered my eyebrows. Perhaps I share a similar taste with Arthur.
"Mary, you've received a fine gift. Why don't you try it on—"