The Tiny Witch from the Deep Woods: Volume 2, page 11
The guest was dressed rather plainly, almost as if she were trying to disguise herself, but even her simple clothing couldn’t hide her natural beauty. On top of that, the brilliant, almost shining golden hair spilling out from under her hat and the startling jade-green eyes peering out from her face were striking. These were exactly the features possessed by the People of the Forest that Adol had heard about.
After a bit of an awkward trek to the reception room, the conversation from before had begun. The shock she’d expressed at the state of the garden made Adol feel pathetic, but there was nothing of the scorn that usually accompanied such surprise. Instead, he felt something accepting—empathetic, even. Before he knew it, he was pouring his heart out to this young girl. He told himself he was pitiful, that no one wanted to hear his gripes. However, once the floodgates were open, there was no stopping the water. He had resolved himself to believe losing his job would be the best outcome of this meeting, but now he had entirely lost control.
Meanwhile, Misha could only listen to his story with wide-eyed astonishment. She had come here to ask about herbs; instead, she was inundated with the travails of setting up and running the royal herb garden. Adol’s intensity left no room for her to interject, so she was forced to quietly wait until he was finished. Between the torment in his hazel eyes, the shaggy disarray of his brown hair, and his awful complexion, she could tell just how much pressure Adol was living under. He was like a thread pulled taut, ready to break.
Looks like he’s pretty stressed. Reminds me of when Nene had her first child, Misha thought.
Misha knew that when people got like this, the best way to calm them down was to let them speak their piece without interruption. Even if they were talking to a child, that chance to put their worries into words was invaluable.
Back when Misha had accompanied her mother on visits to nearby villages, she’d encountered a woman named Nene. She always came to them wailing, then she’d talk, drink her tea, calm down, and head home with a smile. She had moved to the village from far away for a marriage and become pregnant almost immediately. With no one around her she could rely on, the mental stress had driven her into a corner. If Adol had realized Misha was comparing him to that newlywed, he might just have collapsed himself. But for better or worse, he was so engrossed in telling his own tale that he couldn’t see the true nature of Misha’s sympathy.
After all of his venting, Misha sighed quietly, realizing the garden was not in good shape. There would be no herbs from overseas. They couldn’t even properly grow herbs that were native to the area.
Two years had passed since the garden’s creation. With no leads on the cause of their failure, anxiety and fear had driven away a great many of the workers. It was no wonder Adol was so stressed.
But why won’t they grow properly? she pondered.
With her home being in the middle of the forest, Misha had always been able to collect any herbs she needed by stepping outside. She had never had a need to cultivate the plants herself. Besides, life in the wilderness didn’t allow much room for spending time and energy on things that weren’t absolutely necessary.
Her mother’s bad leg had stopped her from going very far into the forest, so Misha had occasionally uprooted plants from farther away and replanted them closer to their house. Her mother had possessed such a green thumb that Misha’s only involvement after their replanting was to water them occasionally. This project’s kind of cultivation was entirely outside the little apothecary’s realm of expertise.
However, there had been the garden her mother had started at her father’s estate. It had been left to go wild, but it had still been there. It had mostly been a hobby project for her mother, so it wasn’t particularly large in scale, but there had been no sign that the plants growing there were any weaker than the ones Misha had found in the forest. The little plot hadn’t been home to a great variety of herbs, and not all of them had survived the years after her mother had stopped taking care of them, but there had been some hardy survivors poking up among the weeds.
In other words, if there were some herbs that could survive untended after all that time, the fact that all the plants grown here were less than half as effective as their wild counterparts was unusual.
Halfway through Adol’s story, she’d already concluded, I guess I’ll have to see for myself.
She waited until he had finally talked himself out. A little dazed from his tirade, he sat across from her as she refilled his teacup. He took it from her at her kind insistence, but he brought it to his lips rather sluggishly.
I guess he’s talked himself out. He’ll probably come back to his senses shortly, and then the wave of exhaustion will hit him like a brick... I should see if I can turn his attention elsewhere before that happens. But why do adults always live under so much pressure?
The image of the maids back at her father’s mansion, working sleepless through the night to take care of the wounded, floated forward from a back corner of her mind. However, because she knew that had been one reason for what had led to the events that followed, she quickly cut off that line of thought—not to mention the quiet realization that she wasn’t really one to talk.
People throw themselves into their work to avoid having to look at the things they don’t want to. I guess the maids were trying to avoid confronting the idea of death. Then, Adol must be worried about the future of the herb garden. And I...
Misha shook her head, dispelling her half-formed thoughts. This wasn’t the time or place.
“If you don’t mind, Mr. Caretaker, would I be able to see the garden for myself? Maybe the fact I’m a novice will give me a fresh perspective on things.”
Misha’s request seemed to snap the man out of his daze. “Ah...yes, of course. Also, please, just call me Adol. No need to be so formal.”
“Mr. Adol, then? I’m Misha. I’m a fledgling apothecary, so please just call me by my first name. You’re so much older than me anyway.”
Adol immediately shook his head. “Absolutely not. You are the king’s guest. There is no way I could be so rude as to speak so casually to you.”
“But why? I told you, I’m a young apothecary in training, that’s all...”
They spent a short while arguing over how formal they were going to be with each other. Although they eventually came to an agreement, both of them quietly grumbled about how stubborn the other was. That said, the discussion had done a great deal to soften the tension between them, so it hadn’t all been for nothing.
“Very well, Lady Misha.” Adol stood with a dramatic clearing of his throat, his complexion already much improved. “Please allow me to walk you to the garden.” He made a big show of offering her his arm, a sign he had recovered quite a bit from his earlier depression.
“Thank you kindly, good sir,” Misha replied with a similar dramatic flair, placing a hand on his arm, but she couldn’t keep herself from bursting out laughing. Adol responded to her giggling fit with a smile of his own before guiding her in a leisurely stroll through the garden.
Seeing the unusually bright expression on his face, the other workers they passed had to wonder if he had just received some rather good news.
Adol escorted her to a place that better resembled a private garden than a field of cultivated plants. The trees had been cleared, and the ground was divided into sections, each containing its own growing herbs. The early summer wind coming in off the lake glided through the leaves, and though there was nothing as showy as a rose, the plainer flowers of the herbs still bloomed proudly, creating a calm and relaxing atmosphere.
“It’s so pretty.” Misha let out a breath in admiration, looking out over the garden.
It would have been quite a moving sight if the herbs were flashier, but there was a kind of calculated beauty to it. Being on the shore of the lake created a wide, sweeping view with a pleasant breeze. Since this was the first trip Misha had taken while leaving Ren at home, she had to imagine how excited he’d be to run around in a place like this.
“The gardeners of the castle were quite helpful in that regard,” Adol declared with a proud puff of his chest...but his shoulders quickly slumped. “Unfortunately, the prevailing opinion seems to be that the only value it has is aesthetic.”
Noticing the darkness in Adol’s eyes, Misha checked around the garden once more, this time observing it as an apothecary. “This is a cedes plant?”
Cedes had some pain and fever relieving properties and readily grew in a plethora of environments, so it was a valuable and easy to find herb. The plants were growing quite profusely, leaves large and thick. The stalks were also quite solid, and the flowers were rather large compared to others she had seen in the past.
“That’s right. They were one of our first herbs thanks to how easy they are to take care of. We have carin and toryk as well.”
Those were both plants with subdued medicinal effects, but they grew remarkably quickly.
Following where Adol was pointing, Misha indeed saw some familiar plants—but they were larger and greener than the ones she had remembered.
“They look to be doing quite well. And there’s no sign of insect damage...” Misha said, tearing a leaf off a nearby cedes plant and popping it in her mouth, an unconscious habit formed from her time harvesting plants in the wild.
Her mother had taught her to recognize plants by their taste and smell when she was first learning. Adding taste and smell alongside sight provided more information, and that made it easier for her to remember them. Naturally, medicinal herbs were far from tasty. The violently bitter flavors had brought a young Misha to tears on more than one occasion.
“Hmm? It tastes kind of...watery?”
But that familiar gesture turned up an unfamiliar result. Cedes was a remarkably bitter herb. Even after being dried and reduced to a powder, that bitterness remained—to the point it was a struggle to get children to take it. Despite being cheap and effective, it was rather unpopular. Naturally, it was extremely bitter when it was unprocessed. This was one of those plants that Misha had struggled with when she was young, but this time, it held almost none of the bitterness she remembered. The scent of the plant was also weaker, the sharp, minty aroma virtually undetectable.
Misha studied the leaf in her hand. It was larger and thicker than she remembered, but it was definitely a cedes leaf.
“This is one of the weak herbs?” she asked, turning to Adol, who grimaced.
“If you want the normal effect, you’ll need to use about three times more. Effectively, it’s useless.”
“Three times...” Misha echoed with a grimace. The standard dosage of processed cedes was two fingertips’ worth. Even if the characteristic bitterness was gone, needing three times that much would be a hard sell to anyone. “But they look so nice.”
The leaves were bright and glossy, no sign of being touched by insects. Glancing down at the earth, Misha saw that it was dark and soft. There were basically no weeds. Lots of people were putting in plenty of effort to make sure they grew well, but they weren’t getting results. It was no wonder the people cultivating these plants were demotivated.
Walking around the garden, Misha discovered the same thing all over. Despite the size and vibrancy of the plants, their tastes and smells came through thin and weak.
“Have you discovered anything?” Adol asked, a hint of desperation in his face, but Misha could only shake her head.
“Both the soil and water are fine, and no matter how pessimistic you may be, it’s clear that the plants are growing wonderfully. I have no idea why they’re turning out so weak, but there has to be a reason. Do you mind if I take some time to think about it?”
He had initially been crestfallen, but her intentions lifted his spirits. “Please, by all means. We are honestly at our wit’s end. I’d be happy to hear any kind of opinion you can muster.”
And then a drop of water fell between them.
“Looks like it’s about to rain.”
The gray sky that had hung over them all morning seemed finally ready to give up its tears. With the amount of rain they’d seen recently, it was honestly more surprising they had made it this far into the afternoon dry.
As the rain poured down steadily harder, the group quickly made its way back indoors. Just as they made it inside, the clouds really let go, sending rain down in sheets. After they returned to the reception room, Adol handed them some towels from a shelf to wipe themselves off.
“You walked here, right? I will arrange for a carriage to take you back. Please wait here a moment.”
“Hold on a...second...” Misha said, trailing off once Adol, still soaking wet, dashed out of the room.
Left hanging, Misha turned her gaze to the window. She could see a portion of the garden from here. The greenery in the garden danced happily under the heavy rain.
“He said they haven’t been able to harvest any of the seeds or bark from the trees yet. I wonder if they’re as weak as the other plants?” Misha murmured.
“If they were raised in the same way, I imagine so.”
Misha jumped at the unexpected reply, turning to see Miranda standing right behind her with an amused grin.
“Oh... Was I talking out loud?”
“Just a whisper,” Miranda chuckled at Misha’s flush.
Though a little embarrassed, she nonetheless asked for Miranda’s thoughts. “What do you think? Do you know why?”
Being obviously a much better apothecary than Misha, Miranda might have noticed something Misha hadn’t. Miranda was as much a teacher as she was a guardian for Misha, who had no inhibitions about going to the older woman for help when she needed it.
Miranda’s eyes went wide, a bit taken off guard by Misha’s childlike straightforwardness. Doctors and apothecaries tended to be very proud people. Even if they thought someone else might have the answer, few would be willing to ask for help so directly.
“I have my theories,” Miranda murmured after a short silence, stepping alongside Misha. She continued, staring out the window. “But I think you can figure it out if you think a bit longer.”
“I can?” Misha echoed. Following Miranda’s gaze, Misha found nothing new. Just the same plants, now growing behind a haze of rain. As the girl sank into thought with a frown, Miranda gave a small sigh and patted her on the head.
“I’ll give you one hint: Plants live by putting roots into the ground.”
To Misha, it sounded more like a riddle than a hint. She didn’t have time to reflect on it for long, though. The door to the room swung open at that moment; Adol was back, and the carriage was ready. Miranda returned to her spot on the wall, falling silent like a good attendant. And maybe because Adol accompanied them on the ride back to the castle, she didn’t say another word for their entire trip. She disappeared somewhere as soon as they arrived, sending a message that she didn’t have any interest in getting further involved in this situation.
Once she returned to her room, Misha prepared a cup of her favorite herbal tea to enjoy by the window.
Plants live by putting roots down into the ground...
She turned the hint over in her mind.
Unable to go outside and bored from being trapped at home all day, Ren shot Misha an exasperated look before yawning and plopping his head down on his front paws, eyes closed. Meanwhile, Misha’s gaze was locked on the window and the heavy rain pouring down outside of it.
Chapter 10: The Terrifying Karas
“It’s been raining so much these days,” Lalaya muttered after a sip of her tea, which she partook in following her meals. “The air feels sticky from the humidity. I hate it.”
Despite her condition having substantially improved, her weak constitution meant changes in the weather still hit her hard. She was eating more and more, but the recent weather had caused her appetite to nose-dive again, something Misha wasn’t sure how to deal with.
“Has it been raining more than usual?” Misha asked.
Lalaya sighed and shook her head. “The rainy season is a bit early this year. Normally, all the rain brings the temperature down too. Lots of people don’t like that part because they can’t go out much, but it’s actually more comfortable for me.” She placed her empty teacup on the table, which Carrie dutifully stepped in to refill.
“My apologies for interrupting. I believe karas season will open soon. Shall I put in a request for some?” Carrie, a maid, asked after she finished pouring the tea.
Lalaya’s eyes immediately lit up, but Misha had no idea what the maid was talking about.
“Oh! I guess it is about that time of year, isn’t it?” Lalaya said happily.
Seeing Misha’s confusion, Carrie explained, “Karas live in the lake. They’re quite nutritious, and they’re a staple food in the summer when the heat has dampened people’s appetites. Their breeding season, during which their harvesting is forbidden, begins immediately after the snow thaws, but that will soon end. It has been a regular part of Lady Lalaya’s diet ever since she was little,” she said, her explanation strangely hesitant.
Seeing how intently Misha listened to the explanation, a mischievous grin took to Lalaya’s face. “You’re an apothecary, but you don’t know what a karas is? Even though they’re used to make medicine?”
“Sorry, I’ve never heard of it.” While she was a bit irritated by Lalaya’s smug attitude, if Misha didn’t know, then she didn’t know. All she could do was apologize.
“That is not much of a surprise. They may be easy enough to catch for citizens of the capital, but they apparently live only in the lake here. Additionally, they are not easy to keep fresh, which means they are rarely exported,” Carrie said, glancing at Lalaya from the corner of her eye. It was meant to chastise, but from Lalaya’s reaction of a small pout and a shrug, Misha assumed the princess was accustomed to such rebukes from her lifelong maid.
