"My bread is too hard!"
In a small bakery called 'Wheat Tail' in the royal capital, former Sixth Princess Pavoria Reine is walking a new path in life. But her peaceful bakery is suddenly overrun by a cast of eccentrics. There's a wizard from the next town trying to save on food expenses, a former hero who can't read the menu despite legendary swordsmanship, and the castle's head maid who somehow gets mistaken for a customer. Every time someone asks Reine for softer bread, her kneading hands get
Pavoria Reine's Tomorrow: Which Way? - Hard Bread and a Morning Where I Can't Be Honest
[sad] Ah, it's tough again.
The workshop before dawn. The stone oven's fire crackled and popped. Reine held the freshly baked bread in both hands and gently pressed its surface with her finger.
The springiness pushing back was just a little too firm.
(*This would be hard on elderly people with weak teeth.*)
The wheat-colored bread gave off a fragrant aroma. The baking was perfect. And yet, it was tough.
Reine had roughly braided her waist-length golden curls herself again today. Back when she was at the castle, her maids would carefully put her hair up in a bun, but now it was just a simple side tail. Her fluffy hair was dusted white with flour. Tracing the wheat ear embroidery on her apron with her finger, she let out a small sigh.
The eastern district of the royal capital, Forna. This little bakery called "Wheat's Tail," facing Craftsman Street, was Reine's very first castle of her own. The signboard had a picture of a cat holding a wheat ear in its mouth. The second floor was the living quarters, the first floor the shop and workshop. It was a second-hand stone oven, but the heat circulation wasn't bad. The country of Cresta was so famous for its wheat it was called the "Breadbasket of the Continent," and in Forna alone there were 47 bakeries. Among them, Reine had thrown away all the signs of being a former princess and started from scratch as a baker.
It had already been a year and a half since she left the royal register.
She'd heard that royalty voluntarily leaving the register was only the third case in two hundred years. She received a lifetime pension of 20 gold coins, but she couldn't afford luxury, to say the least. After subtracting rent and ingredient costs, her life was, well, barely scraping by. Even so, just having someone say "it's delicious" made her chest feel gently warm.
But.
(*Still, I wish I could bake them softer.*)
Reine looked down at her own arms. They looked delicate, but from kneading dough every day, they had a faint layer of muscle. She'd gained three kilograms since her princess days, but she considered that a badge of honor as a baker.
Knock knock.
The back door sounded.
"Coming!"
When she opened the door, the owner of the neighboring hardware store, "Hammer's Petro," was standing there. 55 years old, taciturn, always wearing a stern expression.
"……Here."
He held out three copper coins.
[surprised] "Oh, the usual?"
Petro nodded silently and accepted the day-old bread Reine held out. And then, without a word, he gave a thumbs-up.
Firmly, upward.
Just that.
But that alone conveyed everything to Reine.
(*I'm grateful, but he's still such a strange person.*)
[gentle] "How about today's fresh batch? It's a bit of a failure, though—it's tough."
Petro shook his head, held up the day-old bread he'd already bought, and went back to his hardware store. He always seemed fine with yesterday's bread. In fact, he seemed to prefer it that way.
Reine gave a wry smile and closed the back door.
She got to work preparing the shop for opening. A white blouse, a brown skirt, the apron ribbons tied neatly into a bow. This, at least, she never neglected, no matter how busy she was.
The morning sun streaming through the window began to dye the flour-dusted workshop a golden color.
——Opening.
Clink-clank.
The first customer was an elderly gentleman. He wore neat clothes, but it was a face she didn't recognize around here.
"Welcome."
The old gentleman slowly looked around the bread shelves and pointed at the most expensive bread—a walnut and honey loaf costing six copper coins.
"One of these."
He paid with an old-feeling silver coin. It was slightly worn and had a retro pattern on it.
[surprised] "Oh, this is..."
"It was used at the castle long ago."
Reine's shoulders stiffened for just a moment.
[gentle] "You don't need to become anyone, you know."
The old gentleman smiled quietly, then left the shop with the bread in his arms.
(*I don't need to become anyone?*)
Reine tried to grasp the meaning of those words—and couldn't.
"Reine-san! This is bad!"
The one who burst in was a regular neighborhood boy. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he was out of breath.
[surprised] "What's wrong?"
"The next town! A bakery opened in Tolm! It's really huge! And the bread is two copper coins, and it's super fluffy, they say!"
At that voice, the other customers inside the shop reacted too.
"Oh, that shop called Panifique."
"I hear a head chef named Sein is running it. He was at the castle before, right?"
"Fluffy and two copper coins, huh. The bread here is a bit expensive, isn't it."
Her heart gave a small leap.
Sein.
The former head chef of the royal palace. The man who had run the castle kitchen back when Reine was a princess. And—the man Reine had banished.
(*The neighboring town of Tolm is 12 kilometers from here. Two hours by carriage, three on foot. If they have that commercial guild, Hansa Tolm, backing them, that scale makes sense.*)
[calm] "My, everyone is so quick with the news."
Reine plastered on her shopkeeper's smile. Her blue eyes, however, clouded just a little. Her emotions showing immediately in her eyes was her bad habit.
"But tough bread has its own good points, you know."
"Yeah, yeah. It sticks to your ribs."
The customers laughed and said so, buying bread little by little. But the quantity was smaller than usual.
The sound of customers leaving, clink-clank, felt faster than usual.
(*Two copper coins, and fluffy.*)
Reine clenched her flour-covered hands tightly.
(*I have to keep it together.*)
She immediately started on a second batch of preparations. She had to bake soft bread. Her feelings alone rushed ahead, and her hands moved forcefully.
She slapped the dough, kneaded it, stretched it, and kneaded it again. Flour dust flew, and a single bead of sweat traced down the corner of her eye.
"How about this?"
The baked bread was—a rock.
No, to be precise, bread as hard as a rock. The surface was smooth, yet it didn't budge when pressed with a finger.
(*You're kidding.*)
Reine crouched down in the corner of the workshop. Hugging the freshly baked failure to her chest, she hung her head.
[crying] "I have to do this properly."
Her voice trembled. Her vision blurred.
But she couldn't cry. Because the shop was still open.
(*I can't make the customers worry.*)
Reine held back her tears with effort and forced the corners of her mouth up. When she smiled, a dimple appeared only on her left cheek. She knew it without looking in a mirror.
She returned to serving customers. They were sparse.
Evening.
The sun slanted, and the shop's shadow began to stretch long.
"Hey there, young lady!"
Along with a loud voice, Marco, the sweat-soaked master plasterer, entered the shop. His work clothes were stained white with cement.
[surprised] "Marco-san, thank you for your hard work."
"Give me five of the usual tough bread! The boys are waiting, starving!"
Reine was a little surprised, then gave a small nod.
[gentle] "Is this kind of tough bread really alright?"
"Of course it is!"
He laughed heartily and took the bread.
"Your bread has a real chew to it, and if you eat it at noon, it lasts in your belly till evening. All the craftsmen at the site say it's a lifesaver."
Reine's eyes welled up.
She was happy. But she couldn't honestly say "thank you." Because she wasn't satisfied with it herself.
[shy] "M-My bread is tough, after all."
When she said that to hide her embarrassment, Marco grinned.
"That's what I'm telling you is good about it."
He pressed the copper coins into her hand, and with the bread in his arms, went out into the twilight city.
A while later, Reine took down the shop sign and began working on the account book. Her hand, tracing the numbers, stopped.
Today's sales were lower than usual.
(*Is it because of Panifique?*)
The image of a man with long silver-gray hair tied back crossed her mind. Narrow, blue eyes. Refined features. And the cold gaze from that day.
The embers of the stone oven cast an orange light into the workshop. Staring at the fire, Reine murmured.
[sad] "Is my bread fine the way it is?"
Knock knock.
The back door sounded again.
When she opened it, Petro was standing there.
"What is it?"
Without a word, Petro held out a small hammer.
A hammer?
As Reine tilted her head, Petro twisted the corner of his mouth up in a grin. Then, he turned on his heel and went back to his hardware store.
(*……Could it be.*)
Reine compared the hammer in her hand with the bread on the shelf—and realized.
[laughing] "You're telling me to break the tough bread with this!"
The words escaped her before she knew it.
Then, she laughed with a small, trembling voice.
She gripped the hammer tightly. The cold, chilly feel of the iron lightened her heart just a little.
(*Tomorrow, I'll make it more—*)
The oven fire crackled.
The smell of flour and the slightly burnt scent of bread drifted quietly.
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