If It Makes the Town Look Cuter
Without entering Grandfather’s under-construction mansion, I headed to the spot where the hot spring inside the estate flowed out.
“Hardt, are you up to something again?” Brother Gerald asked in a tone of half-exasperation.
“I’m just doing the same thing here that I did earlier. I thought that if the hot spring temperature is different, the egg whites might turn out even softer and more melty. I plan to take them to the head chef to see if he can create a new dish.”
“There won’t be enough, will there?”
“Today’s batch is just for research. Once we figure out the best way to do it, Maria or someone else can make hot spring eggs here regularly.”
“Why go to all this trouble?”
“Well, if we develop dishes that can only be eaten here, like the ice cream, wouldn’t that make people want to come? But I’m no expert, so I’ll leave the actual development to the pros.”
“What are you making?” came Grandfather’s voice. I turned to see Brother Gerald already walking over to him.
“Hardt’s trying to create a local specialty using hot springs. He soaked some eggs in the source earlier,” he explained.
“Do you have any of those eggs now?”
“We already ate them all.”
“You couldn’t have saved even one for me?”
“Well, we ran out of eggs, you see…” I began, but the glare Grandfather gave me made me immediately lower my head.
“My apologies.”
Why am I getting scolded over boiled eggs? Oh right—everyone gets weirdly intense about new recipes around here.
Now I’m pretty sure I’m going to get snark from Father and the others when I get back to the mansion… I sighed involuntarily at the thought.
As we entered the mansion, I mentioned that Maria would be preparing more hot spring eggs using the source spring, and asked Grandfather to be sure to taste them when the time came.
“Grandfather, the entrance door is the same color as the roof, but what about the window frames? Won’t you paint them too?”
“If we’re recreating Fleur Village, I should… but painting the frames orange might make the house look too cute. I’m still undecided.”
So he’s still resisting. Even though in the end, Grandmother always wins these debates.
“Well, why not just try painting them orange once, and if it looks weird, you can repaint them white?”
“I’m considering that. But the carpenters are eager to start building their own homes, so I’ll probably revisit this after things settle down.”
“Grandfather, I heard you’re making the hot spring source the town center?”
“That’s right. I’m planning a radial layout—eight large roads branching out from a central square built around the spring, and then two circular roads connecting those eight like rings.”
According to Grandfather’s plans, the first ring road closest to the central plaza will house restaurants, souvenir shops, and public bathhouses. The second ring will be for inns and lodging.
The goal is to first get the town up and running, then gradually expand. If tourism picks up, he even plans to build a hot spring theme park.
“Grandfather, have you named the roads yet?”
“Where did that come from all of a sudden? Roads are named after cardinal directions—east, west, north, and south.”
“Well, usually, yes. But since the town’s going to have a cute, unique feel, I thought giving the roads names might add to the charm. Like maybe naming them after our familiars?”
My words made Atre and the others perk up.
“Hardt, you’d name a road after me?”
“You’d give a road name my name?” Atre began spinning in circles around my feet, and the White Dragon—perched on my shoulder—started squawking excitedly right next to my ear.
Even Ripka was fluttering around us joyfully.
“‘White Dragon Road’ is too long, so maybe just ‘White Road’ or ‘Dragon Road’?”
“Why is my name just ‘White’ or ‘Dragon’!?” the White Dragon huffed. “Even Lucia and Levin have names! I’ve been silently holding my dissatisfaction all this time. This is a perfect chance—name me!”
“But… we haven’t made a familiar contract, and you’re not even going to be staying with us forever, so I didn’t think it was right to name you.”
“I’m going to live for about three thousand years, you know. ‘A while’ for me and ‘a while’ for you humans is not the same.”
Wait… did I just hear something incredibly important?
Now I’m torn—do I want to ask more about this or not…?
“So you’re saying… you’ll stay with Hardt until he dies?” Brother Gerald asked bluntly.
Oh no… Brother, did you really have to go and ask it like that?
“Humans only live about fifty years, don’t they? For me, that’s about as long as a blink.”
What do you think about this chapter?
