Chapter 50 – The Winter Meeting
“Ah, the words about not seeing each other for the entire winter are still fresh in my ears, Jade,” Ashborne said with a smirk as he settled into a seat in the main hall, near the fireplace on the left. “And yet, here I am – so warmly received.”
“Shaddup, Ashborne,” Jade hissed, rolling her eyes. “I was just as surprised as you when Father told me he had sent the letter early this morning – and that you replied you’d come right after our dinner! I thought you’d arrive a few days later.”
Ashborne glanced around the room.
The arrangement was familiar. As always, a set of herbal tea was prepared for their meeting – three cups and seats for both of them and Mr. Trent, the secretary, who was always by Ashborne’s side whenever he left the estate. A plate of biscuits sat nearby. These were the basics whenever he visited. But today, he saw upgrades.
The meeting had been moved from Jade’s classroom to the main hall. That made sense – as he understood from Father Rochester letters, the students had been learning skills for long hours during winter – but he had expected to be received in one of the clergy’s study rooms instead.
More notably, the presentation had improved.
Instead of a stool hastily repurposed as a serving stand, there was now a proper side table – he reckoned it was from her own room – covered with a cloth embroidered along the edges with decorative flowers. The serving plates were lined with embroidered napkins. A vase, crudely but cleverly fashioned from vines and scrap fabric, held several artificial flowers.
And then there were the pastries: biscuits and unfamiliar treats shaped into delicate roses and blossoms. Their caramelized edges hinted at a crisp texture – freshly baked, perhaps.
“While I would like to lament the tragic fact that you insist none of this was prepared specifically to welcome me,” Ashborne said, rubbing his chin, “I cannot help but wonder what the atmosphere would be like if you were making the effort.”
“A cake decorated elaborately with meringue or buttercream, and probably a few more things that take a lot of time to prepare,” Jade paused, continuing after a moment of thought. “And I would probably gather some news beforehand, just so I have topics to keep you entertained throughout the entire conversation, making sure you stay in a good mood for the full two hours.”
“These?” She gestured toward the current set up. “My students and pupil did all of it. The only thing I personally did was brew this herbal tea.”
Ashborne glanced at the table again. “Your boy, Josh – he can make rose-shaped biscuits now?”
“Yup.” Jade puffed out her chest proudly and pointed at the plate. “These are the biscuits. He shaped them into rigid roses – which I told him not to do, because it makes eating them difficult. See? You have to open your mouth wide to take a bite, and the petals poke your nose. So, this is the first and last batch of rose biscuits.”
She pointed to another set. “These are mashed potatoes mixed with flour, perfect for piping into rose shapes. You can eat them with a spoon; they’re slightly crisp and crusty on the outside, but soft and creamy inside. Or just pop them into your mouth – they hold their shape very well and won’t crumble into mush when you pick them up.”
“And these are our latest experiments,” she continued, pointing again, “biscuits made with fava bean paste and flour. We’ve a lot of beans in storage – donations from a merchant – and Sister Geenia got us thinking about how to use them all before they go bad. These fava bean biscuits don’t bake well on their own; too dry. I’m thinking of turning them into something like pie filling instead, but that would need sugar. And malt sugar is hard to make during winter…”
Ashborne watched as she spoke, her face bright with unconcealed enthusiasm. It was clear she took genuine pride in what she and her apprentice had achieved.
Sensing his gaze, Jade bit her tongue and gave him a wry smile. “Oopsie. Guess I got carried away. You’re probably not that interested in all this baking stuff.”
“Oh, by all means, continue,” Ashborne said, gesturing lightly. “I find myself quite intrigued by the progress you’ve made so far, Miss Jade. How long have you been here? Barely a year. And yet you’ve accomplished far more than those who have been here much longer.”
“Well, that’s thanks to everyone’s support. And most importantly…” Jade met Ashborne’s gaze directly. “Thanks to you, Lord Ashborne.”
“Me?” The nobleman tapped his chest lightly, clearly surprised. “I recall doing little more than donating funds for the classroom, Miss Jade.”
Jade began counting on her fingers. “You waived the domus’s rent. Your estate sends its rejects here. Your tenants pay low rent, so even the poorest among them can still get by. You allow us to operate under your family’s crest – that alone gives us protection no regulation in the kingdom could guarantee. You oversee the factories on your land, and I believe the reason our students are allowed to arrive late to work is because of your influence as well.”
She lowered her hand. “All and all, you’ve created a stable and secure foundation. Without that – intentional or not – I wouldn’t have been able to do anything. You have my utmost respect, Lord Ashborne.”
Ashborne’s eyes widened, and he remained speechless for a short while before blinking his round, doe-like eyes. “I’m flattered, Miss Jade, especially considering how often you wrinkle your nose or roll your eyes at me.”
“Well, you being a nice landlord does not erase the fact that you sometimes do things I consider rather lacking in intelligence,” Jade replied with a huff. Then, after a short pause, she added more quietly, admitting to herself that she was being biased, “Though, I suppose I understand your reasoning better now.”
Ashborne studied her expression for a moment before asking, somewhat cautiously, “Are you feeling unwell, Miss Jade? I have heard that ladies can become… unusually sentimental from time to time, on a rather regular cycle…”
Jade’s glare snapped into place instantly. “Oh? So you’re sayin’ I can’t just be a little nicer with you? Is that what yer sayin’?”
Ashborne chuckled, “In a sense, yes. A Miss Jade who treats me kindly feels most unnatural. I might begin to suspect I am speaking to an impostor.”
“Imposter?” Jade’s mind raced through recent newspapers. “That’s new. I don’t recall seeing that idea in recent stories or rumours. Where d’you get that from?”
“The Quinark Journey, of course!” Ashborne replied, visibly pleased. “I’ve joined several sessions recently. Met quite a number of people from different backgrounds through it. My sister has finally made a few friends as well.”
He went on to recount one of his recent sessions, where an imposter plot had unfolded.
At one point, Mr. Trent quietly produced a thick hardcover book from his case and placed it into Ashborne’s waiting hand. Ashborne took it without even turning his head; the exchange was so seamless it was clear that they had done it many times before.
Jade watched the scene with a flat expression.
He’s showing it off, she thought. Just like kids proudly displaying their collection of Pokemon cards.
Still, she listened as Ashborne enthusiastically recounted his experience, nodding at the appropriate moments and offering small reactions when needed. She even clapped lightly at one particularly dramatic turn in the story to provide a bit of emotional support.
Ashborne was not blind. He could clearly see the deadpan look in her eyes. But the fact that she stayed and listened was enough for him to keep babbling to annoy the young teacher – oh, he simply loved her facial expressions!
He let out a quiet chuckle. “Jade, my sister would be delighted if you would visit our estate when you have the time.”
“Why?” Jade took a sip of her tea and raised an eyebrow. “We’ve never met. I don’t suppose we’d have much in common to talk about.”
“Well,” Ashborne said, closing his book and gesturing to its thickness with two fingers, “you seemed rather impressed by the size of mine.”
“Yeah,” Jade nodded. It was far from complete, but the thickness suggested he intended to fill every page with his character’s adventures.
“My sister, has already filled an entire notebook,” Ashborne continued, smirking at Jade’s astonishment as he widened the gap between his thumb and forefinger. “And hers was this thick.”
“...I don’t encourage addictions, my Lord,” Jade said dryly. “Milady may require some restraint. And you as well, Milord, for that matter.”
Ashborne shrugged lightly. “She’s simply bored. She hasn’t yet reached the age to attend balls or formal gatherings, and this is the most popular tea-party game at present. If I’m not mistaken, it’s the only one that holds her interest. Chess, gossip, music, drawing – she finds them all rather dull.”
He gave a small smile. “Which is precisely why she was so grateful for your suggestion, Miss Jade. She had hoped to express her thanks in person.”
“No, thanks. I’ll pass,” Jade declined immediately. She could afford to be casual with Ashborne because he was used to it and rarely took offense, but she had no such confidence when it came to his sister.
“Let’s get back to today’s meeting,” she continued. “Father Rochester wrote to you because of the embroidery piece my students completed.”
“I had assumed that was merely an excuse to invite me here,” Ashborne said, resting his chin lightly against his palm. “Miss Jade, too busy and yet missing the company of a friend – unwilling to break her vow of not seeing him through the winter – so she sends a subtle invitation to the very person she has been avoiding…”
“Ha. Ha. Your storytelling skills have improved greatly, it seems, Milord.” Jade mocked, before rolling her eyes and adding flatly, “No. If I miss talking to you, I’ll just say it. I’m not going to use subtle hints and let things spiral into unnecessary misunderstandings that take a few hundreds of episodes or chapters to resolve. Here. Take a look.”
Ashborne was about to question her remark about “hundreds of chapters”, but the moment he saw the embroidered piece Jade held out to him, he fell silent.
It was a rectangular piece of fabric, divided into two panels that together formed a single image: a basket of white lilies resting by an open window, beyond which lay a softly – almost vaguely – rendered landscape of mountains and a river. He immediately recognised the background; the threads were presented in a way he often saw on the linings and edges of clothing – just simple, closely-set stitches.
But the lilies…
He frowned slightly. They were unfamiliar.
The petals showed a gradual transition of colours, fine and precise, like brushstrokes. At first glance, it resembled oil paint applied to a canvas decorated with embroidery. But when the piece was placed into his hands, carefully supported between two boards, he realised he was wrong
The lilies themselves were embroidered.
“This is… remarkable,” Ashborne said, his voice rising despite himself. “I have never seen anything quite like it. To call it a painting feels inadequate – ‘artwork’ might be a more precise description.”
Jade puffed out her chest. “Spent weeks researching how to do that, you know. Ten girls worked on this for a full week. It’s a lot of labour. So, what price do you think I should put on it?”
“Hm,” Ashborne leaned closer, “May I touch it?”
“As long as your hands are clean.”
He took a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped his fingers before gently brushing the surface of the White Lilies. “Extraordinary…” he murmured, his brows slowly furrowing. “Though I have the distinct impression that I have seen this technique before. I simply cannot recall when or where…”
“Well, I didn’t invent it. It’s no surprise if you saw it somewhere,” Jade said with a slight tilt of her head. “Maybe you’ve seen it on imported goods? Something from the Far East? Fabrics? Dress hems? Decorative screens? Fans?”
“A fan!” Ashborne’s eyes lit up. “Yes, a fan. A round fan from the Far East. It arrived after months at sea – a gift to the Queen from the Duke of Wellington, who owns a shipping enterprise.”
He paused, recalling the memory. “Her Majesty used it a few times during summer, but I heard she preferred to keep it as a decorative piece. It was considered too beautiful to risk damaging through regular use.”
Jade’s eyes brightened with interest. “It must have been very pretty for the Queen to set it aside like that instead of using it.”
“Yours creates a similarly striking impression at first glance,” Ashborne said, his tone turning slightly apologetic, but upon closer inspection… there are flaws. I would hesitate to price it above £10, particularly if the viewer has seen truly masterful embroidery, such as the Queen’s fan.”
“I’m gonna halve that to account for your generosity,” Jade replied with a smile. “I assume £10 is what you would be willing to pay, and that’s with a bit of charity and probably because you wanna do me a favour.”
She tilted her head. “£5 would be more than enough. Realistically, I’d say the market price is closer to £2 to £3, right?”
She turned to Mr. Trent, seeking for a more neutral judgement. The secretary, who remained silent throughout, gave a small, confirming nod.
Ashborne exhaled softly. “A rather modest estimate, Miss Jade. Still, there is clear room for improvements – and I have no doubt you could surpass this level in time.”
He examined the embroidery again. “These are ordinary threads, are they not? Perhaps we could source higher-quality silk. With better threads, I’m sure your work would improve significantly.”
“Thanks, but, I’m not going to be involved in the needle project anymore, other than providing the drafts of the embroideries,” Jade said, shaking her head.
“Why?” Ashborne frowned slightly. “You do not strike me as someone who would be discouraged by a few imperfections.”
Jade chuckled, “Milord, look – I’m just one person, and I have only 24 hours in a day. I’m guarding the tuition class because of winter, and once spring arrives, the tuition class will be dismissed. By then, I’ll be spending most of my time in the bakehouse, or managing connections with the shopkeepers to secure places to sell the students’ work. If I devote my time to those, when do you think I can advance my needle skills? In my dreams?”
“It would be a pity if you could no longer devote time to needlework, Jade.” Ashborne nodded slowly. “But you are right. It is better to excel in one’s strength than to scatter one’s efforts.”
He lowered his gaze to the White Lilies. “In that case, may I have the honour of purchasing this piece? It would seem this is the school’s first – and perhaps only – work of its kind.”
“Huh?” Jade blinked at him. “Where exactly did your thoughts wander off to, my dear patron?”
She folded her arms. “My students are already working on the second piece. And with the help from a good instructor, the next one will be even better.”
Ashborne blinked. “There’s more?”
“Of course there’s more!” Jade said, rolling her eyes. “The whole reason Father wrote to you was precisely because we would like to ask for your – actually, more specifically, ask your sister’s – opinion on what kind of theme ladies like her would prefer. That way, I can draft it out, get the students working on it, and earn some good coins!”
Ashborne paused.
“... So, you did not, in fact, invite me here for a pleasant afternoon tea?” He looked at her, his puppy-like doe eyes trying their best to guilt-trip her. “Not even a little?”
“... Not when I was busy overseeing at least eighty students a day for at least eight hours straight,” Jade replied flatly, rolling her eyes again, “And stop it. Being handsome doesn’t mean you’re always right!”
Jade distinctly heard the man chuckle under his breath. “Miss Jade admits I am good looking.”
For a brief moment, Jade seriously considered forgetting that he was the benevolent Landlord who provided them with protection few nobles would bother to offer.