Chapter 79 – Spring Ball Preparation
The students cheered when Jade approved the noon tuition sessions. They hurried through their meals in the dining hall to finish within ten minutes, then cleaned up the plates and bowls – and themselves – before rushing into the classroom to spend their remaining time on their crafts.
Determined to make the most of it, they even quickened their hands, working with such efficiency that the productivity of these noon sessions rivaled the winter tuition class session that lasted an entire afternoon.
Just as Jade began to think that March would pass without further interruptions, Father Rochester called for a meeting – one that involved all the residents of the domus. To her surprise, no one else seemed surprised; they all appeared to know what was coming.
“Jade, you didn’t know?” Clara gasped. She grabbed Jade’s arm and whispered, “It’s the Spring Ball, don’t you know about it?”
The Spring Ball? Jade lowered her voice in reply. “Well, the local noble hosts a ball to mark the beginning of spring, right? And since we’re near Velport, the Queen’s ball would be the grandest in the region… But what does that have to do with our domus?”
“That’s for those who can attend the Queen’s ball,” Clara said. “You don’t think this celebration is only for people of status, do you? It’s for everyone. The local domus organises one for the parish! Didn’t your domus back then host one as well?”
“Um,” Jade clung to the backstory she had established since arriving in this world. “I don’t have memories of it, remember?”
“Oh… right.” Clara let out an awkward little laugh, masking both her embarrassment and her irritation at the imagined neglect of Jade’s supposed home parish. “Anyway, Father Rochester must be calling us to assign duties. I wonder how this parish will organise it.”
An hour before supper, everyone gathered in the main hall. Father Rochester stood before the altar. Beside him was a sharp-featured man with high cheekbones. He carried himself with an air of constant judgement, as though he had criticisms for everything he saw, but chose to keep them politely to himself. At least, that was Jade’s first impression.
“We shall hold our Spring Ball next Sunday. As in previous years, Mr. Drogo, steward to Lord Ashborne, will assist us in preparing the feast.” Father Rochester gestured toward the man beside him. “Nothing extravagant – we are in the midst of spring ploughing, and everyone is occupied with farm work. At five in the evening, once all have gathered, we shall begin with prayer before the feast…”
It was clear this was not their first time organizing a parish Spring Ball. The procedures were well established, as were the assignments.
Brother James would work with Mr. Drogo on procuring supplies. It was a task that required the assistance of several monks.
Mother Annie would oversee the care of the elderly and infirm within the parish, together with the residents of the Sister’s House.
Brother Benedict would record the contributions brought by the guests. It would be a potluck-style feast: most would bring food, though some might offer entertainment such as carols or music. A few nuns were assigned to assist him.
Sister Geenia, together with Sister Lucy, would take charge of the kitchen. It was expected that the guests could contribute only modestly. Those who lived comfortably would attend the Queen’s ball or other balls hosted by the gentry, while those who came here could hardly afford even a cut of beef. As such, the domus would provide the bulk of the meal, supplemented by porridge and vegetable stew from the villagers. Nearly all remaining nuns were assigned to this team.
Sister Miriam, who in previous years had assisted Sister Geenia in the kitchen, was now in charge of the bakehouse, providing part of the bread for the feast. Most of the bread would still need to be purchased from local bakeries, but this arrangement caused Mr. Drogo to raise a brow. Jade could not tell whether he was impressed or merely doubtful of the domus’s baking. Since there were students – especially Josh, the only one in the domus who could cultivate the yeast – helping in the bakehouse, no monks or nuns were required for this task.
Father Rochester assigned a few more duties before finally turning to the teachers, as well as Mrs. Whitcombe and Clara, who were staying as temporary residents.
Mr. Anderson was instructed to rest and simply enjoy the celebration – his age no longer permitted him to take on strenuous work. Mrs. Whitcombe and Clara were free to join any team they pleased, or to attend as guests and contribute a small donation instead.
At last, Father Rochester addressed the newer teachers. “Mr. Hanson, Mr. Shackleton, and Miss Arrowot, I would prefer you to assist with the paperwork. Some input on decorating the square would also be appreciated. I place no restriction on your specific duties, so long as you contribute and, at the same time, become familiar with our parish.”
“As for you, Miss Jade.”
Jade had been curious about what task she would be given, but her anticipation cooled slightly when she noticed the expression on the White Robe’s face.
He let out a soft huff, almost a sigh. “Miss Jade, I am certain you have plenty of suggestions for improving the feast, but I would prefer you refrain from participating in the preparations. No performance, no extra recipes, and no assisting with other’s paperwork.”
“...huh?” Jade tilted her head. “But everyone’s supposed to do something, right?”
“You have done more than enough this past year. I am sure everyone recognised your contributions,” Father Rochester replied. “Read some books, take a walk, or – at most – assist Sister Miriam in the bakehouse… follow her arrangements. I do not wish to see any new recipes from you. You still require rest.”
Jade was pretty sure she didn’t need rest if the chief clergy concern was her mental breakdown. But hey, no employee would refuse a lighter workload if their boss suggested it. So she nodded. “Yes, Father, I obey.”
“Good,” Father Rochester smoothed his moustache and stepped aside. “Mr. Drogo will now present the list of donations from Lord Ashborne’s estate. Please take note and make the necessary arrangements.”
Jade was confused at first, but soon understood what the White Robe meant.
Mr. Drogo spoke in a voice that sounded like a stingy and mean person – the stereotypical voice and accent one might hear in an animated dub. Yet, his words themselves were perfectly normal, nothing exceptional and nothing personal… only his tone made everything sound conspiratorial.
He said, “The number of tenants and residents in the parish has increased compared to last year. We expect more guests for the feast. His Lordship is particularly concerned for the safety of his people. Accordingly, servants and several hired men will be stationed at key points to maintain security…”
As he mentioned fire hazards and thief prevention, he cast a not-so-subtle glance in Jade’s direction before continuing.
He proceeded to list the estate’s contributions – pork, flour, sugar, bacon, eggs, chickens, milk… barrels upon barrels of supplies would be delivered to the domus for the feast. He would also assign several maids from the estate to assist in the kitchen.
Jade exchanged a glance with Clara and Miss Arrowot, then stole a look at Mr. Anderson’s two assistant teachers. They all seemed to share the same mixed reaction about Mr. Drogo’s words… So it wasn’t just her imagination. The way Mr. Drogo spoke did sound weird – and faintly suspicious.
The meeting was brief. A few questions were raised and answered on the spot. Within fifteen minutes, it was dismissed, and everyone returned to their respective duties.
Since Jade had been explicitly told not to make suggestions. And even if she had offered any based on her past experience organising events, she would not have been able to replicate them here, given the limited time and lack of support.
Maybe I should learn to think less… Jade mused, but Clara’s whisper pulled her back. “What do you think the Steward meant? He kept emphasising certain words, as if he were hinting at something… and he looked menacing with his stares, like the protagonist in the novels. Jade, what’s your take?”
“He does sound weird…” Jade paused. “If I had to guess, it’s like he’s expecting some sort of criminal case to happen during the feast. Maybe he’s heard rumours about some underground men planning something, but has no proof or nobody believes him, so he’s trying to warn others in his own way.”
Clara blinked, letting out a soft gasp. “How did you come up with that? You make it sound so detailed, as if you’ve seen it happen!”
Because I’ve read tons of novels and watched millions of dramas in my previous life? Jade gave a wry smile. “Well, let’s just say I have a very wild imagination when it comes to these random thoughts. I’m sure none of this is actually true.”
Clara hurried off to gather information about Mr. Drogo’s. When she returned, her expression was far less enthusiastic.
“What did you find, Detective Clara?” Jade teased.
Clara sighed. “Mr. Drogo has always spoken like that. Apparently, it made it difficult for him to find work when he was younger, and he’s never quite managed to change the habit. And, perhaps he has a great many responsibilities – as a trusted man of Lord Ashborne’s household, overseeing numerous properties and affairs – he often appears disinterested out of exhaustion.”
Jade translated this into terms she found easier to grasp with her modern mindset. “Meaning, his grumpy face isn’t because he’s actually grumpy, but because he’s tired and prefers not to talk? So he only looks like a meanie, but he’s actually not?”
Actually, Jade had almost said “shitty face”, but caught her tongue at the last second – if she had let that slip, she’d probably be scolded the next day; a teacher should not be using such vulgar expressions.
“Yes,” Clara replied, still sounding faintly incredulous. “Everyone I asked agreed he’s kind and generous. He helps tenants whenever he can – for instance, allowing them to delay rent payments in times of hardship. It is rare for a steward to permit that. He even writes letters of recommendation if a tenant proves capable of applying for better work.”
Jade shrugged. “A perfect example of why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Told you not to trust those novels too much; bad people don’t necessarily look ugly or menacing, and there aren’t that many pretty ladies and handsome gentlemen with elegant parents and kindly neighbours in real life. We’re just ordinary people with ordinary looks.”
“Then why do novels only write about beautiful people?” Clara pouted.
Jade raised a brow. “If you had a few coins in hand and were choosing a book in a shop, which would you pick? A story about a rich, good-looking man marrying an ordinary governess? Or one about an ordinary farm boy marrying an ordinary shepherd girl?”
“...” Clara puffed out her cheek and shot Jade a sideways glance, reluctantly admitting that she would definitely choose the former.