Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 371

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 141.
May Your Final Performance
Be Your Greatest (16)
After examining a few rows and gradually losing interest, Riche settled onto the floor, stretched her legs, and tapped her calves. There was nowhere proper to sit, and no one around anyway, so what did it matter?
“If that picky Jo had seen this, he would have told me to throw it all away.”
A moment later, she muttered again.
“Why am I even here doing this?”
Then, beyond a rod laden with clothes, there came a sound. Not loud—barely the sound of a puppy hesitating before sitting—but it was definitely there. Riche startled reflexively, then reminded herself there was no need to be alarmed. She called out to whoever it was.
“Who’s there?”
“Um….”
A hesitant voice emerged, then stopped. Even at first hearing, it was clearly a girl’s voice. Thinking she was probably about the same age, Riche stood to cross over, but then remembered the clothes hanging in long strands would require her to go around. Instead, she twisted her waist and peered through the gap between the floor and the hanging garments. There, she spotted a girl sitting just as she had been, her thin legs and skirt visible.
“Who are you?”
“Who are you?”
The girl, having noticed as well, bent at the waist in a similar posture to look back. Their eyes met at once. Only half her face was visible, but they recognized each other well enough.
“Oh, I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere. Who are you again?”
“…Me too.”
“I’m Ri… Millar.”
She had nearly forgotten she was using a false name and almost given her real one, but caught herself just in time. The girl nodded.
“So you’re Miss Justine. I heard people talking about you.”
“It’s not Justine, it’s Jusitant.”
Either way, it was someone else’s name, but it still seemed proper to correct it.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
Judging by her calm and careful tone, this girl seemed to have a different temperament from Riche. The girl shifted her waist back and forth, as if uncomfortable, before speaking.
“I’m Ines. Ines Olfranje.”
Riche’s eyes widened.
“Oh, so you’re that Marie de Trois?”
“You know well.”
A faint smile crossed Ines’s lips. Riche smiled back.
“I heard about you. That you shouted loudly and passed the audition. Your voice must be really good.”
“Not really. You’d know if you heard it now.”
Riche tilted her head and spoke.
“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t have the ear to understand such things.”
The answer was so honest that Ines fell silent for a moment. But Riche didn’t wait long.
“But why did you come here?”
“Just to look at the costumes. I’ve never been on stage before. I’ve never even been to a place like this. So….”
“But there’s hardly anything to see, is there?”
Ines laughed softly.
“That’s true.”
A moment later, this time Ines asked.
“What were you doing here, Miss Jusitant?”
“I, well… I’m not really sure.”
“Huh?”
Ines Olfranje regarded me with a puzzled expression. Riche’s lower lip twitched before she spoke abruptly.
“Isn’t this position getting uncomfortable for us?”
“Ah… I suppose it is.”
“Let me show you a solution. Try copying what I do.”
Riche straightened her bent waist and tapped it a few times before suddenly flopping backward onto the floor. Though her head’s position had changed, what was visible through the gap between her clothes and the floorboards remained the same.
“It’s exactly the same this way. What do you think?”
I couldn’t see Ines Olfranje’s expression clearly from the distance. But after a moment passed, I saw her lie down in exactly the same manner as Riche. When she turned her head, the two girls found themselves face to face.
Ines Olfranje was the first to laugh.
“Pfft…”
When Riche began laughing along, the quiet Costume Storage Room filled with soft giggles. After laughing for a while, somehow my heart felt lighter. Riche decided she should ask a question first before receiving any difficult ones.
“About what you said earlier—you mentioned people were talking about me. Who were these people?”
“The people we’re preparing with, of course.”
“You mean… like that quiet, dignified grandfather musician, or that particular actress who gets emotional easily, or that handsome, well-mannered pianist, or that eccentric choreographer who dances carelessly everywhere, people like that?”
This time Ines Olfranje’s laughter was louder. But it stopped quickly, and she spoke.
“I laughed because what you said hit the mark. I’d never thought of it that way, but hearing you describe it, it really does seem to fit perfectly. Yes, that’s right. People like that.”
Riche felt an odd eagerness and asked again. She’d become sensitive to recent evaluations of herself and wanted to hear whatever was said.
“So what did those people say about me?”
But Ines Olfranje’s answer was completely unexpected.
“That you’re the producer’s girlfriend…”
“Pfft!”
Riche suddenly turned her head toward the ceiling, so Ines Olfranje couldn’t see her expression. A moment later, her voice came.
“I’m already lying down, so it’s a good thing I was surprised. At least I won’t fall over. Or should I have jumped up instead? Anyway, how ridiculous. Who started saying such a thing first? They really do make things up as they please.”
That much was answer enough, but Ines Olfranje asked carefully again.
“So it’s not true?”
“Of course not! That’s absurd. Does everyone who spends time together have to be dating?”
“Then if you’re not dating, why do you spend time together?”
Riche found herself at a loss for words. How was I supposed to explain this? That a mad murderer is chasing us and we’re all fleeing together?
I could feel Ines Olfranje’s puzzled gaze. Unable to help it, I decided to brush past it vaguely, when I suddenly remembered the lie Maximian had told. Ah, that’s right.
“Well, we don’t actually know each other that well. We each serve different masters—I mean, nobles—from different manors, but… those people made some strange wager and we set out on a voyage, and somehow, well, you know how it is. We just naturally became close spending time together like this.”
I thought I’d explained it reasonably well, even if not as smoothly as Maximian would have, but strangely Ines Olfranje’s eyes widened.
“You serve a master? Then… the producer too? He’s also a servant?”
Only then did Riche realize. This girl didn’t know Callaimon, and naturally she wouldn’t know about the lie told to Callaimon either. It didn’t seem like Callaimon would have spread such a story around. Moreover, this girl had only recently come to the Theater Company. In other words, I’d just spouted complete nonsense.
“Ah, that’s… no, it’s different. Not a servant, but rather a highly trusted… not a secretary, but… a musician! Nobles patronize excellent musicians, don’t they? Jo sings well, so he performed songs in the nobles’ manors, composed music, and did that sort of work. It’s far more important than being a servant.”
Did that make sense? I glanced sideways and saw Ines Olfranje looked somehow relieved.
“I see.”
Watching that expression, Riche suddenly felt strange. My brow furrowed, but I couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason. Why?
But Ines Olfranje seemed to be in better spirits and continued speaking.
“By the way, you call the producer ‘Jo,’ so you two must be quite close even if you’re not dating. Since I met him this way from the start, even though we’re similar in age, it feels a bit awkward to me. I’m learning to sing from him, so he feels like a teacher in some ways. I’m envious that you can speak so comfortably with him. Oh, but is the producer particular about his tastes? These clothes have gotten a bit dirty, but they’d be quite pretty if we just washed them…”
Riche blurted it out without thinking.
“Picky? Absolutely. Her eye for detail is remarkably refined. She even designs her own pieces. Of course, if she were to design something, innocent seamstresses would suffer for it, so it’s better not to ask her to.”
As I spoke, old memories surfaced, and my tone grew sharper. Ines caught it immediately.
“Did I upset you? I’m sorry. I’m not sure why, but…”
Hearing her quick apology, I felt sorry too. So I offered an awkward smile and spoke.
“It’s just… I’m actually a seamstress.”
“A seamstress? Really?”
Many people regarded seamstresses as mere menial laborers of little consequence, yet Ines’s expression showed genuine astonishment.
“Wow, that’s impressive! So you can make clothes like these?”
The conventional response would have been to demur—to say I couldn’t make things of this caliber yet, which would have seemed appropriately modest. But since that wasn’t the truth, Riche answered differently.
“Better than what’s here.”
“Really? Better than the costume designer who works here? You’re truly remarkable. I wish you had been the one to design the costumes for this production.”
She could have laughed mockingly, but Ines took my words at face value. She was the sort of girl who believed people had no reason to lie. Though in this case it wasn’t a lie, Riche felt somewhat uncomfortable. Self-praise wasn’t her style.
“Don’t marvel at something you haven’t even seen yet. It could just be my own delusion, couldn’t it? If you believed everything boastful people said, there wouldn’t be a single fool left in the world.”
Ines laughed softly.
“You’re strange. If you say that, you’re telling me not to trust you. But if you were a liar, you wouldn’t say such things, so I’ll believe you anyway.”
Ines was no simpleton either. Riche couldn’t help but laugh, her cheeks flushing slightly. Ines spoke.
“The reason I was so amazed is that I’m absolutely terrible at sewing. Even when my mother was alive, I was always scolded for it. She always used to say…”
“If you don’t learn to do piecework sewing at least, you’ll starve, didn’t she?”
“What? Did your mother say the same thing?”
“Poor mothers everywhere have the same repertoire.”
The two girls, lying down, bent at the waist with laughter. Though they had grown up differently, the fact that their circumstances were identical struck them as absurdly funny.
“When I embroider, the thread tangles. When I tie knots, they come loose. When I knit, I pull so tight I have to unravel everything. My mother said I had pumpkins for hands.”
“Pumpkins? What does that mean?”
“If you’re carrying around a heavy pumpkin, you can’t move your hands properly, can you? It’s a way of mocking someone with no dexterity, someone clumsy. The pumpkin part probably comes from how dull pumpkins look.”
“That’s hilarious. We didn’t have a saying like that in my village.”
“Well, Millar wouldn’t have had the chance to hear such things anyway.”
“Stop calling me Millar. Just… call me Millar.”
“All right. Oh, so that’s it then. You came to see how well a seamstress could make clothes? But you seem disappointed. Nothing worth learning here.”
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Publisher: 14 Months Publishing
The copyright to this book belongs to the author and 14 Months Publishing.
To reuse all or part of the contents of this book, written consent from both parties is required.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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