Chapter 38
Grace’s eyes widened. The person who painted the picture barely got paid for it? That doesn’t seem right.
“Of course, it’s unfair. But there’s no way around it. People with money in the territory usually go to the designated part of the market and buy paintings from familiar merchants. They believe the paintings that merchants guarantee in quality are the only good ones.”
“……”
“If a painter tries to sell their work directly, no one will buy it. That’s why they have no choice but to accept the situation.”
As she listened to Dorota’s explanation, Grace was impressed. How did Dorota know all this when she wasn’t even a painter?
“Dorota… you’re so smart.”
“No, not at all. I just picked it up over time. Actually… it’s because my younger brother used to be talented at painting when he was little. He dreamed of becoming an artist, so I ended up learning about it.”
A hint of sadness flickered across Dorota’s face.
“But back then, our family was very poor. Painting or even buying paintings was a luxury we couldn’t afford. Once he realized how the world worked, he gave up.”
Dorota was smiling, but regret and sorrow were laced behind it. So Grace couldn’t bring herself to ask more.
“That’s… so sad.”
Wanting to draw but being unable to — that was such a sad thing. With a sigh, Grace recalled her conversation with Dorota.
“Ma’am, may we come in?”
A knock was heard.
“Come in.”
As soon as Grace responded, the door opened.
“Today’s snack is here!”
Annie came in first, holding a tray with bread and tea, followed by Rena and Sally.
The maids’ eyes widened when they saw Dorota.
“Oh! Head maid, you’re here!”
“Oh, I was just about to leave. Don’t mind me.”
Dorota waved a hand dismissively as if to say it was no bother.
“Would you… like to have some tea before you go?”
“I’d love to, but I’ve got some overdue tasks. Would it be alright if we had tea time another day? I’m sorry.”
Grace had hoped to talk with her more and offered gently, but Dorota politely declined and left.
“Goodbye, Head Maid!”
After seeing Dorota off, the maids set the table for tea. A plate piled high with golden-colored bread was placed at the center.
“The shape…”
“It’s teddy bear bread! Cute, right?”
The bread was shaped like little bears. Rounded ears and faces, a snout, chubby bodies with arms and legs — all clearly formed.
“How did they… make so many in that shape?”
It was clear that someone with incredible dough skills had made them. It must have taken forever to shape them so precisely — and over ten of them had been brought in!
“Oh, these were made using a bread mold.”
“A… mold?”
“Yes! You pour the dough into a teddy bear-shaped mold and then bake it like that. That’s how they all come out looking the same. If you want, you can make dozens at once.”
Rena smiled and explained kindly.
Identical bread. Dozens at once… Grace looked at the bread thoughtfully, then lifted her head.
“Can I… see the mold?”
“The mold? The bread was made by the chef, so I think it’s in the kitchen.”
“Then… let’s go to the kitchen.”
Why is she acting like this all of a sudden?
Grace usually ate any dessert they brought her with delight, saying it was delicious and that she was happy. Now she wanted to go to the kitchen?
‘Is there something she didn’t like about the snack? Does she feel like the bread, made with a mold and not by hand, lacks sincerity? Or is it something else entirely?’
The maids didn’t know the reason, but they guided Grace to the kitchen.
“Hello, Madam. I’m Marsten Rich.”
A plump middle-aged man and a young boy greeted her in crisp white chef’s uniforms. They were Marsten, the head chef, and Emil, the dessert chef.
“What brings you to the kitchen, Madam?”
Marsten asked nervously.
The Duchess, who’d never interacted with them before, suddenly visiting the kitchen could only mean she was dissatisfied with the dessert or tea. Or perhaps she hadn’t liked the meals recently and had finally come to complain.
Being from the capital, it was also possible that northern cuisine didn’t suit her tastes.
“Emil, show me the bread mold.”
But Annie’s request was unexpected. Emil tilted his head.
“What kind of mold…?”
“The one for today’s snack…”
“Oh! You mean the baby bear bread. Sure, I’ll show you.”
Marsten immediately understood and brought the mold used to make the teddy bear bread.
He didn’t know why Grace wanted to see the mold, but it didn’t seem like she was upset with the taste. That alone was a relief.
“It looks like this.”
The mold was concave, with the bear’s face and body carved into it.
“So… you pour dough into this?”
“Yes. Pour the dough in, bake it in the oven, and the bread comes out shaped like this.”
It reminded Grace of something she’d seen at the blacksmith’s. There, they poured molten metal into molds to shape swords.
Whether bread or swords, if you pour into a mold, you can replicate the same shape. There’s no need to shape it from scratch every time.
“Oh… so that’s how…”
“Ma’am?”
When Grace suddenly spoke to herself aloud, the maids and cooks all turned to her in surprise.
“If you have a mold… you can make things easily.”
“……”
“I need to… make a mold too…”
Regardless of how they looked at her, Grace was already lost in her own thoughts. As she mumbled, her eyes turned to Annie.
“Annie… you know…”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Bring me some rubber… and a knife.”
The tip of the knife glided over the rubber sheet. Grace stared intently at the surface. She had drawn a sketch on the rubber with a black pen and was now carving it out with the knife.
“Phew…”
It wasn’t easy to carve the lines cleanly without slipping or distorting them.
Once all the lines were carved, she planned to fill it with ink. If she filled it and stamped it on paper, she could make multiple copies of the same image — just like a mold or bread pan.
She started making this mold on the rubber sheet because she hoped it would allow her to produce drawings cheaply.
She had learned that the high cost of artwork came from the time and effort needed to make each piece.
Grace was fully aware of that.
Letius had once praised her for being a fast artist, and he himself was also very quick, but even then, a single painting still took several days to complete.
But if she could carve a rubber mold and fill it with paint, she could produce many copies of the same image. That would let her make art faster and in larger quantities.
And maybe, just maybe — that would solve the problem of her people not being able to enjoy artwork because it was too expensive. That was the idea Grace had in mind.
“…Done.”
She wiped the sweat from her forehead.
Knock, knock.
There was a knock at the door. Grace looked up, and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw who it was.
“Fr…Frederick?”
“Dinner time has long passed. Why haven’t you come down?”
“Oh…”
It was Frederick. Grace glanced at the grandfather clock. As he said, dinner was already thirty minutes late.
“I… didn’t realize what time it was.”
“What are you doing?”
She’d been so focused on her work that she hadn’t even noticed the time passing. Grace lifted the rubber sheet so Frederick could see it.
“I’m making… a printing mold.”
“A… printing mold?”
Frederick repeated the unfamiliar phrase.
“Yes… If I fill it with paint and stamp it, I can make lots of the same image. So…”
Frederick picked up the rubber sheet. She meant to fill this with ink?
“And what will you do with all these mass-produced pictures?”
“Well… right now, paintings are expensive.”
“What do you mean? If you want, you can just buy them.”
The response caught her off guard. He thought maybe she meant she didn’t have the budget, and he was about to offer to help if needed.
“Not for me… For the people in the territory.”
Grace gave him an awkward smile.
“They said… they can’t buy paintings because they’re too expensive. Too hard to make…”
“Ah…”
