The Mansion Awaits Spring - Chapter 27

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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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Chapter 27
Bauman spoke to April, who was lost in thought.
“I shall attend carefully to the repairs of the mansion.”
“Thank you.”
April said this and looked down at Fred with an appraising gaze, then spoke.
“Hannah and Bauman are each fulfilling their role. If you do yours, I’ll forgive you. Besides, I’ve been needing an errand boy to run between the city and here.”
Though April spoke these words, Fred—pitiful in his terror—could not manage any reply at all.
In the end, Hannah answered in his stead.
“Really?”
“Y-yes?”
Only then did Fred’s face snap into focus, and he looked up at April. He replayed what he’d half-heard and nodded vigorously.
“Whatever you need done, I’ll do it. The factory only requires me six days a week, so…”
Fred spoke of visiting the factory six days a week as though it were a generous arrangement, and April replied, barely concealing her dismay.
“No—you can stop going to the factory. You’ll have enough to keep you busy here. I’ll pay you a bit more than what you were receiving there.”
She had no idea what the factory paid the children, but judging by the appearance of Hannah and Fred, it was certain they received precious little.
Fred remained tense but nodded enthusiastically.
April drew a letter from a drawer and handed it to him.
“First, take this to the Bank. Ask for Mille Birta. You must give it to her personally—no one else will do.”
“Yes! I’ll be off!”
As Fred answered, Bauman interjected eagerly.
“And on your way back, pick up some provisions. Here, let me write down what we need.”
It was Bauman, not April, who was most delighted to have an errand boy.
Bauman had to spend a full day traveling to and from the Capital. Walking the entire distance took eight hours at his pace.
Hannah, being a child who scampered about all day, felt no such strain, but after such a walk, Bauman’s legs ached for four or five days afterward.
April had once urged him to buy a cart and horse, but he had stubbornly refused, saying it could wait until after the stable was repaired. He should have accepted then. He’d placed too much faith in his own stamina.
April visibly struggled to suppress a smile as she watched Bauman practically glow with joy.
Bauman grew self-conscious, wondering if his happiness showed too plainly, and spoke awkwardly.
“Thanks to your kindness, Miss, I shall have far more time. In those spare hours, I’ll repair the stable.”
“Do that.”
April answered in a voice tinged with suppressed laughter.
* * *
Fred proved to be fleet-footed and a remarkably persistent errand boy.
Though the Bank staff gave the boy a decidedly cold reception, he clung to his purpose until he had placed the letter into Mille Birta’s hands. And while buying the provisions, he even managed to bring back her reply without incident.
His only shortcoming was that he lacked a certain polish—he forgot one of five items Bauman had asked for and simply returned without it.
But there was reason to excuse him: since Fred could not read, Bauman had drawn pictures of all the provisions, yet the boy didn’t know what ginger was, so even that nearly perfect illustration had failed to help him recognize it.
April asked why he hadn’t simply shown the drawing to the merchant, but Fred only smiled sheepishly without answering.
Later, she realized that because Bauman had written the word “ginger” below the picture, Fred must have been too embarrassed to show it to the merchant, fearing to reveal that he couldn’t read. Teaching him his letters had become urgent.
All the same, for a first errand, he had acquitted himself well.
Fred had lost his parents young but lived with his grandparents, so after completing his task he returned home.
As he left, April wrote out the names of Fred and his grandparents on paper. She made him promise to return having learned to trace every character perfectly.
And then night fell, and the world grew still.
In the sleeping hours, April sat in a chair by her bedroom window and sipped a warm cup of tea.
“It was rather loud today, wasn’t it?”
As she spoke, Sebioh, resting at her feet, perked up his ears.
With two children darting about, the house was far from quiet. She found herself thinking that children, by their very nature, were living things that radiated warmth.
Because of that noise, April discovered that she actually preferred silence.
But she thought that if one looked at it generously, it was kind of them to make her newly grateful for peace and quiet.
* * *
Pejin arrived at April’s home for the promised outing to the Amusement Park and gazed up at the Lunos Grand Mansion, murmuring to himself.
“Are architects always this fast with their hands?”
“Wow…”
Logan beside him gasped in genuine wonder.
Bauman was replacing the mansion’s broken Glass Windows one by one.
Normally, replacing windows might take months, even a year, but Bauman—having lived as an architect his entire life—had old connections who could manufacture Glass Windows to exact specifications immediately.
The freshly made Glass Windows were so transparent and pristine they seemed almost not to exist. Even someone unfamiliar with quality could see these were fine panes.
Pejin had received a report about this man Bauman.
He was not what he appeared—a man of uncommon dedication to his craft.
Apparently he’d had a serious falling-out with colleagues who’d begun copying the Empire’s architecture wholesale. And when it said “serious,” it meant genuinely serious: furniture had been smashed, and three men, including Bauman, had ended up in hospital.
In any case, giving such an uncompromising perfectionist charge of restoring and redesigning a grand mansion steeped in history and tradition was bound to keep him in a perpetual state of contentment.
That Bauman had chosen to end his life and found his way to this mansion was April Lunos’s good fortune—but it was Bauman’s fortune as well.
As Pejin drew closer to the mansion, he discovered an ornate chicken coop and doghouse and made a bewildered face.
That a man tough enough to fight with other architects, tough enough to walk away from it, would now so enthusiastically build homes for animals struck him as oddly incongruous.
Upon entering the mansion, Pejin found April preparing two children—Hannah and Fred—for their outing.
The children were in extreme excitement at the news they were going to the Amusement Park, and keeping them calm was no easy task, so April was already drained even before they departed.
April spotted Pejin and spoke.
“He started working here. His name is…”
“I know. Fred, Hannah—go ask that mustached policeman over there to play with you.”
Fred started at being addressed by his name by someone he’d never met, but he followed Hannah as she bounded toward the mustached Pol.
April wasn’t surprised that the police who’d long been watching the area knew of Fred, but she felt a slight pang nonetheless.
“You might have told me a child had been loitering about.”
“Naturally I would have. Besides, we’ve been keeping watch to ensure he caused no trouble.”
It was remarkable that she hadn’t noticed him before, hovering so openly around the mansion—especially since he’d even slept in the broken stable on occasion.
April realized that she’d felt troubled by the constant police presence near the mansion, yet also found solace in it. Bauman felt the same way.
She shifted her attention.
“But couldn’t you tell Officer Pol to trim that mustache?”
Pejin then answered as though he’d been waiting for this, his voice strained.
“That’s what I’ve been saying. He thinks it looks distinguished.”
“Trying to impress whom?”
“Women, naturally.”
“What woman finds a mustache attractive?”
At April’s remark, Pejin’s expression brightened as though he’d finally met someone who understood his exasperation.
“You need to tell him that. Coming from a woman, he might actually listen.”
“I suppose I should.”
The moment she heard this, April—clearly frustrated herself—went straight outside and pointed out Pol’s mustache to him.
The shocking news that women didn’t like mustaches left Pol frozen, his eyes and mouth wide open, while the children danced around him and said:
“But I like your mustache!”
“Can I tug it? I’ll be gentle!”
And the children’s affection only drove Pol deeper into shock.
Pol turned to Bauman with a forlorn expression and asked.
“Bauman, might I borrow a Razor Blade…?”
“Of course. I shall fetch one at once.”
Bauman departed with an unusually quick stride to retrieve the Razor Blade.

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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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