Chapter 175: Aunt's Visit

That afternoon, Richard was hauled out of his study by his mother.

He had been sitting at his desk, breaking down the strokes of the Romanized transition point in the third set of Boundary Stone runes.

"Downstairs."

"I'm in the middle of—"

"Downstairs."

His mother's tone was no different from usual, but the hand pressing down on his shoulder showed no sign of letting up.

Richard glanced out the window.

Sunlight slanted into the yard, lighting up a drying bedsheet like a fluttering flag.

He closed his notebook and rested his pen on the inkwell.

"What time is it?"

"Two o'clock. Afternoon tea time."

"I thought we still had half an hour."

"We're early today." His mother released his shoulder but didn't walk away. "Your sister is waiting for you downstairs."

On the way down, Richard heard rustling coming from the kitchen.

He walked in.

The blue ribbon in Evelyn's hair was tied so loosely it hung askew just above her right ear, looking ready to slip off at any second.

"Today I'm going to teach you how to make parkin," she announced.

"...Me?"

"You."

Richard glanced at their mother.

She pulled out a clean checkered apron and tied it around him in a few quick motions.

"You've been overworking your brain lately," she explained. "Do something else for a change of pace."

"No, I haven't."

"Evelyn said you were frowning so hard last night you could crush a fly between your eyebrows."

"..."

"No reading this afternoon." His mother smoothed down the hem of his apron. "You're under your sister's orders."

Resigned, Richard walked over to the counter.

After a flurry of preparation, it turned out he was only there to play assistant.

Once the baking tray went into the oven, Evelyn dragged a chair over and sat right in front of it.

"You're going to stare at it for thirty-five minutes?"

"Yeah."

"Will staring at it make it bake faster?"

"It gives me peace of mind."

Richard dragged over a second chair and sat down beside her.

Their mother walked in and pulled a low stool over to the oven as well.

The kitchen turned into a little theater with the three of them sitting in a semi-circle.

Inside the oven, the molasses slowly deepened in color, shifting from brown to a caramel red.

"How far did you go on your trip this time?"

"North. The Gaelic Highlands."

"Highlands..." Evelyn murmured the word. "Do the people there speak a weird language?"

"Gaelic."

"Could you understand it?"

"Not a word."

"Then how did you talk to them?"

"Most of them also speak the official Albion language, just with a very heavy accent."

Richard thought for a moment, picking out a part of his experience he could share.

"There was an old man in the village who herded his sheep up the slope every morning.

He had a brightly polished shepherd's crook with a curled ram's horn carved into the top."

"How old was he?"

"I couldn't tell. The old men in the Gaelic Highlands have faces so wrinkled by the wind they look ten years older than they actually are."

"Did you talk to him?"

"He said something to me in Gaelic, which I didn't understand.

Then he drew a diagonal line across his own chest, and traced another over mine."

"Was he cursing you?"

"...No."

"Was he praising you?"

"Not that either." Richard searched for a suitable explanation.

"It's an old greeting around those parts. The Gaels inherited it from a Celtic tribal custom.

When two people cross chests like that, it means, 'we stand on the same land.'"

"That sounds like something the priests at the grand cathedral would say."

"Their customs do have a bit of a religious flavor."

"Do the Gaels have their own religion?"

"It's been gone for a long time," their mother chimed in.

"They were purged over a thousand years ago by the Roman Legion, and then purged again later by the State Church. All that's left now are a few scattered old customs."

"...That sounds like a pity," Evelyn said, resting her chin in her hands.

"Not really." Richard scoured his memory for the relevant folklore.

"Their old customs are still in use, just under different names.

For example, the evergreen tree at Christmas is actually a remnant of the Celtic winter solstice festival."

"Really?"

"Really."

"So since we put up a fir tree every year, does that make us Druids?"

"...Not exactly, but the culture traces back in that direction."

By their second round of tea, Evelyn had already divided up the corner piece she'd cut from the parkin.

One bite for their mother, one bite for herself, and one bite for Richard; it was split perfectly even.

She covered the remaining tray with kitchen paper, tucked it into the innermost corner of the counter, and pinned a small note on top:

"Maturing. Do not uncover. —E."

"Who are you afraid is going to open it?"

"Dad."

Richard glanced toward the living room.

"Dad isn't back yet."

"His nose is sharpest right when he gets off work," Evelyn stated from experience. "That's how we lost a whole chunk of last year's Christmas pudding."

"...A whole chunk?"

"Dad said he only cut a small piece, but I measured the wound. The missing chunk was at least four fingers wide."

Their mother, halfway through clearing the table, couldn't help but laugh out loud at Evelyn digging up this old grudge.

"You silly girl, keeping tabs to that extent."

"I'm going to open a shop when I grow up. I can't afford to be sloppy with my bookkeeping."

Right as they were talking, the phone rang.

By the second ring, Evelyn, who was closest, had already dashed over to snatch up the receiver.

"Hello! This is the Williams Residence."

The line went quiet for a moment before a somewhat familiar female voice came through.

"Is this Evelyn?"

"...Who is this?"

"It's your aunt."

Evelyn's face instantly flushed red to the tips of her ears.

She slapped the receiver against her chest and turned toward the kitchen. "Mom! It's Aunt Isabella!"

Their mother tossed her dishcloth onto the edge of the sink and hurried over in quick strides.

"Isabella."

"Sis."

"How are things on your end?"

"Everything is fine. My two students have been rushing out their first drafts lately, so the workload is still manageable."

"When are you arriving?"

"The day after tomorrow. The 3:40 PM train, direct from the Imperial Capital to Briston Central Railway Station."

Richard walked to the kitchen doorway, still holding his cup of black tea.

"Are you coming alone?" their mother asked.

"...Not alone."

"How many of you?"

"It'll be me and my two students, Sophia and Clara."

"Didn't you say you were just dropping by on your way?"

"That was the plan." Isabella sounded a bit helpless.

"But Sophia went ahead and packed her bags before I could stop her."

"And the other one?"

"Clara missed the last Christmas lantern festival, and she's been feeling guilty about it ever since.

So when Sophia dragged her along, she let herself be talked into coming."

Their mother burst into laughter.

"Do these two students of yours always cling to you like this?"

"They are a bit clingy," Isabella admitted. "But they're both such good kids, I couldn't just chase them away."

"I've already booked a place to stay, and a restaurant too.

I ate there once when I passed through Briston two years ago; they make a pretty good venison pie."

"Venison pie?" Their mother recalled for a moment. "The place on New Street?"

"Yeah. Three blocks from the inn."

"You've arranged this trip so thoroughly I practically have nothing left to do."

"All you need to do is show up with Richard and Evelyn."

Their mother smiled and agreed.

"What about Rogers?" Isabella asked.

"He'll most likely be working late the day after tomorrow."

"...Until what time?"

"His team is rushing out a batch of boiler blueprints. He probably won't be back until after eight-thirty, so we can just eat without him."

"Phone bills are expensive. I'll see you the day after tomorrow. We'll meet on the platform."

The receiver clicked back onto its brass hook.

By the time Rogers got home, it was already past eight.

"Dad!"

Evelyn dashed out of the kitchen, holding up half a piece of parkin; she was saving the other half for herself tomorrow.

"Want some?"

"Has your mother tasted it yet?" Rogers had thoroughly learned his lesson from last time.

"Yep."

"What about your brother?"

"He had some too."

Only then did he let his guard down and accept the parkin from his daughter.

...

Briston Railway Station.

There were more people on the platform than on a usual afternoon.

At this hour, the station typically only saw a scattering of locals. Only the 3:40 PM direct service from the Imperial Capital to Briston brought in a small wave of passengers.

The station intercom hadn't yet announced the arrival.

Evelyn stood beside her mother, tapping her left foot over the yellow painted line at the platform's edge, pulling it back, then tapping it out again.

"Why do you keep fidgeting?" her mother asked, frowning.

"I'm nervous."

"What's there to be nervous about? Your aunt isn't here to test you."

"I know."

"Then stand still."

Evelyn behaved herself for a moment before starting to lightly bounce on her heels again.

Richard took a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to his sister.

"Wipe your palms."

Evelyn looked down at her palms. Sure enough, they were slick with a thin layer of sweat.

"...How did you know?"

"You've been rubbing the hem of your skirt."

The station intercom soon crackled to life.

"The 3:40 PM service, direct from the Imperial Capital to Briston, arriving on time."

A beam of white light appeared far down the tracks, followed immediately by the front of the train emerging from the tunnel.

After the train came to a smooth halt, the carriage doors opened down the line.

Isabella stepped out from the second carriage. Her gaze swept over the platform, quickly spotting her sister's family.

Their mother stepped forward, opening her arms slightly.

Isabella set her leather suitcase on the ground and embraced her.

Their mother rested her chin on Isabella's shoulder, and Isabella lightly patted her back.

Richard stood off to the side, not interrupting them.

The boost from [Perception] allowed him to clearly see both of their states on the etheric plane.

His mother's residual circuits were faintly illuminated by her sister's touch.

The hug didn't last long, only a few seconds.

To an outsider, it looked like a normal embrace between sisters reuniting after a long time apart.

Evelyn suddenly piped up.

"A—Auntie..."

She had meant to say, "Hello, Auntie."

But the "hello" turned into a muffled whimper as she bit her own tongue.

"Urgh." She clamped a hand over her mouth.

No one else on the platform noticed, but Isabella heard it.

Isabella let go of her sister and turned to Evelyn.

"What's wrong?"

"I b-bit my tongue." Her words were muffled against her palm.

"Pfft..." Isabella couldn't quite hold back a laugh.

She reached out and lightly patted her niece on the head.

"Your brother tells me you're a genius baker."

"..." Evelyn was too embarrassed to speak.

"I'll have to put that to the test later."

"Mhm..."

"That red dress looks very nice on you."

"M-Mom bought it for me."

"Your mother has always had good taste."

Evelyn nodded, her face red, her hand still clamped over her mouth.

Only then did Isabella turn to Richard.

Richard stepped forward and took her leather handbag.

"Aunt Isabella, how was the trip?"

"Fine." Isabella handed him her suitcase.

"Nothing eventful. Sophia was being incredibly noisy, so I hid in the second carriage for some peace and quiet."

Richard hefted the suitcase with one hand. With the passive boost from his skills, he barely registered the weight.

"Where are your students?"

"Over there." Isabella gestured toward the front of the train.

A few carriages down, two young women were stepping off with their suitcases.

The one in front was taller, her light blonde hair trailing down her back as she jogged over.

"Professor!"

she shouted as she ran.

The one behind her was much slower.

She was a head shorter than Sophia, her dark brown hair tied back with a ribbon.

The girl walked with small steps, lugging her suitcase and stepping aside to let other disembarking passengers pass.

Isabella waved at Sophia from a distance. "Don't bump into anyone."

Sophia didn't stop until she reached the family, giving an earnest bow to her professor's sister first.

Then she turned to Richard.

"Hello, Richard!" She thrust out a hand with bright enthusiasm. "I've heard your voice over the phone, but I didn't expect you to be this handsome in person."

"Thank you." Richard shook her hand.

"Evelyn!" Sophia turned, pulling the girl into a giant hug.

"H-Hello!" Evelyn gasped, caught off guard.

The slower student finally caught up to them.

"Hello." She bowed to their mother first. "I am Professor Isabella's student, Clara Farfield."

"Hello." She gave Richard a polite nod.

"Hello." She finally nodded at Evelyn.

"Clara... you don't need to be so formal," Isabella said softly. "We aren't in the faculty office."

"Yes," Clara replied.

"You must be tired from the journey, aren't you?" their mother asked Sophia.

"The professor wouldn't let us sleep on the train." Sophia pouted. "She said if we fell asleep, we'd easily miss our stop."

Chatting as they went, the group soon exited the station. Outside, a horse-drawn carriage was already waiting.