Chapter 8
The mansion’s kitchen was busy from early morning.
Ever since Mavis started eating with the duchess, the temper of the Count had been unstable—like a thin layer of ice over a spring lake, ready to crack at the slightest touch.
So, the servants were being extra careful. No one wanted to become the target of the Count’s anger instead of the duchess.
The head chef, who had ginger-colored hair, loudly shouted while rolling out dough that looked just like his hair color—ginger cookie dough.
“Jane! Did you add cheese to the soup?”
“Yes! It’s done!”
“That’s the Countess Arsen’s favorite. Make it extra well!”
Of course, the “Countess Arsen” here meant the Count’s wife, not the gentle duchess or her little daughter.
In this grand mansion, the real owners were the Count and Countess—not the kind-hearted duchess or young Mavis.
The chef held several cookie cutters and looked worried.
Should he make them in a safe, classic human shape? Or in the bear shape that the young lady liked to carry around lately?
Since it was Mavis who mostly ate the cookies, he decided to use the bear-shaped cutter.
Then, in the middle of the busy kitchen, he spotted a tiny white bonnet poking out from the crowd.
The chef blinked slowly, thinking maybe he was seeing things because he was tired.
“Chef uncle!”
The tiny bonnet belonged to the only daughter of the duchy—Mavis. She was so small that she didn’t even reach the chef’s waist.
“Yes, young lady… What brings you to the kitchen?”
“Mae’s going on a picnic in the garden. Give me snacks!”
Mavis held out both hands and smiled brightly. Even though she was dressed simply today for a medical checkup, she looked like a fairy made of snow—just that lovely.
Her chubby cheeks were pink like flower petals.
Chef Dwight laughed loudly and handed her a freshly baked bun, wrapped in paper.
“It’s hot. Be careful.”
“Of course! Do you think Mae is a baby? But… Mae also wants milk… Mae really likes milk and bread together…”
Her words were so cute that Dwight couldn’t stop smiling. After receiving the bread with joy, Mavis pouted shyly.
“Of course, if you want milk, I’ll give it to you.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Would you like it warm?”
“Yep~ Thanks! You’re the best, uncle~”
The chef carefully packed a picnic bag with a milk-filled jug, a teacup, and the bun. Mavis received the little picnic bag and happily skipped out the back door.
The chef thought she was heading to the garden, but that wasn’t where she was going.
* * *
“The garden… is too big…”
Panting heavily, Mavis hurried her steps.
Her legs were so short that no matter how fast she walked, she wouldn’t make it to the front gate on time unless she almost ran.
After a while, the big mansion gate appeared in the distance.
Mavis finally reached the front gate and quickly looked for the bundle of letters she had hidden the day before.
She had to get them before he arrived.
Once she found the bundle, she wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve and hugged the letters tightly.
Just then, she spotted a familiar figure approaching on horseback.
Good thing she’d rushed!
From far away, the postman slowed his horse when he saw the small child waiting.
Mavis hugged the bundle of letters close and the postman, now walking toward her, smiled warmly.
“Owl Uncle!”
“Young lady…! What are you doing out here in the cold!”
“I came to give you these letters!”
She held out a stack of envelopes. There were so many that they could fill a fairy tale book.
“Ah… thank you. These are for the Duke again, right?”
“Yup! Please send them all by warp mail again!”
“Alright… what about payment?”
“Hmm… just charge it to the Duke’s account.”
The postman glanced at the thick bundle and let out a small gasp.
He realized almost all of this month’s profit would come from the Duke’s house.
Unlike normal letters he hand-delivered, warp letters used teleportation magic and were very expensive.
While normal letters cost just 1 fairy coin to send, warp letters cost 150.
Because of this 150-times price difference, most people used regular mail.
Who could afford such a luxury when most commoners earned less than 100 fairy coins a day?
But Mavis could.
Technically, it was the Duke’s money since the family hadn’t gone bankrupt yet. But in her eyes, it was all going to be hers anyway.
Sending a few dozen warp letters didn’t even scratch the family’s fortune. It was like scooping sand from the beach—you wouldn’t even notice it was missing.
To Mavis, she was making a smart investment to protect the Arsen family’s future.
Of course, the postman didn’t know that.
He just thought: “This poor child must miss her father terribly to send him so many expensive letters…”
Even if the family was rich, it must be hard for a child when her dad never came home because he was always out hunting monsters.
“Well, I made a lot of money thanks to her today. I should buy some cookies for my kids.”
Feeling emotional, the postman thought of his own children waiting at home. But today, he had good news for Mavis.
“By the way… congratulations, young lady. You got a reply! There’s a letter from the Duke!”
“Waaah…! I wanna see! Give it to me!!”
“Yes, yes~”
He reached into his bag and handed her the letter. On the envelope was the name of the mansion’s master: Hiram Arsen, written in elegant handwriting.
This was the letter Mavis had been waiting so long for.
“Finally, a reply…!”
She quickly hid the creepy smile trying to creep onto her lips. She had to act cute and sweet if she wanted adults to keep spoiling her.
“Thank you for bringing the reply~! Uncle, here’s a gift! Bread and… milk! Thanks for delivering in the cold.”
She handed him a bun bigger than her hand and a cup of milk. The postman felt his tired heart melt from the northern cold as he saw her innocent smile.
He quickly jumped down from his horse and took a big bite of the warm bread, gobbling it up with the milk.
Then, mid-bite, he paused as a thought hit him.
“By the way, young lady… why do you call me ‘Owl Uncle’?”
“Hmm… your round glasses look like owl eyes, and your clothes are always brown~ So you’re an owl! Owl Uncle!”
The postman clutched his chest, feeling like her cuteness was punching his heart.
“So cute I might die…!”
“Uncle! Are you sick? Want me to make the pain go away?”
“I-I-I’m fine…”
He quickly drank the milk to calm down.
“Uncle, don’t die just because I’m too cute! I still need you to keep sending those letter bombs to my dad!”
Even though Mavis’s worries were not so pure, the postman was on the verge of tears from how adorable she was.
After some time, he calmed down and finished the milk.
He had to live a long time—so he could keep seeing this sweet girl and his own kids.
“I don’t have any more letters for the Duke’s house today. If you plan to send a reply, should I come back later?”
“No, it’s okay! I don’t think I need to reply this time.”
“I see…”
A bit sad that he wouldn’t get to see her again soon, the postman started to leave. But all that sadness disappeared when she waved at him with a big smile.
She kept waving cheerfully until he was out of sight.
But even though her face was smiling… deep inside, she was anxious.
Once the postman was far enough that he looked smaller than her thumb, Mavis finally looked at the Duke’s letter.
The envelope was neatly written with “Hiram Arsen” in beautiful handwriting—but it smelled slightly burnt.
It wasn’t a fancy envelope, probably because it came from the warfront. Still, it was made of quality paper that felt nice to touch.
But just as she was about to open it, her bright smile faded.
Her face twisted with confusion.
