It would take a few days for Mr. Rich Sponsor’s reputation to recover. That was also roughly the same amount of time for the power players behind the cosmetic trade to get the message and stop bothering him.

  Or worse, even after being warned by the court, they might still be bitter enough to attempt something reckless. It wouldn’t be truly over until the Queen’s royal announcement was made. Her court would need time to verify his testimony and draft a formal decree. While the Queen could urge Parliament to act by paying close attention, she lacked the authority to demand it. It was a constant tug-of-war between the Crown and the politicians - a complicated power struggle hidden from the eyes of commoners..

  That meant that if he appeared in public now, the odds were high that suspicious henchmen would still be tailing him like creepy stalkers. And there was no telling what those stalkers might do.

  Who knew whether some desperate cosmetic producers would go extremes and decide to stab him with a knife or something equally dramatic?

  That explained why Jade had seen the men Mr. Trent summoned to escort Mr. Rich Sponsor back to his estate, where he would remain for a few days. Those people wouldn’t dare attack an Earl’s carriage, but they might have the courage to target a wealthy carriage without a formal title.

  “Without a formal title?” Jade frowned. Noble titles were still a mess to her. She had some understanding of them in Chinese culture, but Western nobility was a complete blank. “But, he’s Lord Ashborne. If he doesn't have a title, why is he called a Lord?”

  “I’m surprised, Miss Jade,” Father Rochester said, smoothing his moustache as he looked at her with raised brows. “You continue to offer indirect proof that you come from a land with very different customs.”

  He went on calmly. “His father, the Earl of Wexleigh - whom we address as Lord Wexleigh - also holds the lesser title of Baron Ashborne. As his eldest son, Lord Ashborne may use that Barony as a courtesy title.”

  Jade took a moment to process this. It was all painfully foreign to her. “So… our patron isn’t actually a Baron, but Lord Wexleigh allows his son to use the secondary title? Am I understanding it correctly?”

  “Not entirely accurate,” Father Rochester replied with a nod, “but close enough for practical understanding.”

  Jade paused, then gave up entirely. “This is way too complicated for me. I think I’ll just… keep making my biscuits.”

  Father Rochester chuckled. “A sensible choice. Titles are complicated, especially for those outside their circle.” Then his expression softened. “By the way, Miss Jade - though it may seem unnecessary - I must ask: have you prepared for winter? It’s growing colder by the day, and I’ve not seen you wearing thicker clothing.”

  “Prepare for winter?” Jade echoed, blinking. “Um… what exactly do I need to prepare?”

  “Hm,” Father Rochester looked genuinely concerned. “You should speak with Sister Miriam soon. You’ll need time to make arrangements.”

  Jade thanked him and returned to the bakehouse, still puzzled.

  It honestly hadn’t occurred to her that she needed to prepare for winter.

  In her previous life, she had lived in a country near the equator. Her only real winter experience was a one-year working holiday in Australia - and even then, she’d had a well-traveled friend who handled everything for her, complete with lists and reminders.

  That single year of snowless winter hadn’t left a deep impression.

  So while Jade understood, in theory, that winter was coming, she didn’t truly grasp what “winter is coming” actually meant.

  “Dear, you asked what needs to be prepared for winter?” Sister Miriam nearly cried out in shock when Jade raised the question. “Good heavens, I thought you were already prepared! We must get you wool and blankets immediately!”

  “Huh?” Jade stared at her. “Why d’you sound so urgent? I can just buy second-hand items - my savings should be enough for that.”

  “Buying is easy,” Sister Miriam said firmly, “but waiting is the painful part. First, you’ll need new undergarments - oh, goodness, I forgot. You arrived with only the clothes on you and have been relying on the donations ever since. Of course you don’t have thicker ones for winter; I should have remembered.”

  She continued without pause. “No second-hand undergarments, trust me, you don’t want to wear someone else’s if you can afford it. And you’ll need multiples, as you must change and clean those more often than your outer laters. Then you’ll need dresses made of heavier wool, a proper winter coat, shawls, mantles, gloves… oh! Shoes! Proper shoes, dear, or you’ll risk frostbite!”

  “Frostbite?” The word was completely new to Jade. Having lived in a warm, humid country in her previous life, she had never needed to worry about the cold. Unless it was complaining that the shopping mall had set the AC too low.

  “Oh, and your blanket,” Sister Miriam added, studying her closely. “Miss Jade, do you have any bedwarmers? I strongly advise against using a coal pot. Many people never wake up after sleeping beside one.”

  …Well, I used an electric blanket before. Does that count as a bedwarmer? Jade considered this briefly before asking, “What’s a bedwarmer?”

  Her question visibly shocked the middle-age nun. Sister Miriam clearly could not fathom how someone might ask such a basic question.

  “It seems we have much to do today,” she said after a deep breath. “Bring your money pouch, Miss Jade. We’re going shopping.”

  And that’s how - after selling all the biscuits - Jade was promptly hauled off to the broker’s street by the nun.

  The street was not actually called Broker’s Street, of course. It was simply packed with brokers - second-hand dealers, in modern terms. Narrow and overcrowded, it was crammed with buyers and sellers shouting over one another. Used goods of every imaginable kind were spread out on makeshift stalls: worn boots, tarnished candlesticks, even half-used bars of soap. Everything laid out on large squares of cloth that Jade recognized as the sort of thing people would use for a picnic.

  Jade had never visited a place like this since arriving in this world. All her clothing came from the farm women - mostly Madam Hoonish, who treated donating used clothes to the domus as a charitable act - and from the nuns themselves. She had been content with what she had and hadn’t considered buying more, especially with her limited funds. She never imagined she would one day step into such a dense, chaotic place.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Voices filled the air - slang-heavy, accented, constantly bargaining over prices. Pungent odours from sweat and grime mixed with the occasional waft of cheap perfume from passing girls, creating a bizarre, nauseating stench. Jade didn’t want to look like one of those eye-rolling ladies who openly sneered - wrinkled their noses and “ew”ed - at the poor, so she resisted the urge to cover her nose and stayed close behind Sister Miriam until they reached a large shop overflowing with goods.

  Clothes, furniture, utensils, shoes - everything was piled together. She even spotted a half-broken cart buried beneath miscellaneous debris.

  “Things are cheaper here,” Sister Miriam said as she guided Jade through the clutter. “Most need some fixing, but that’s a small matter for us. Occasionally, you’ll even find something valuable.” She leaned closer and whispered,“Just don’t let the men here notice that.”

  Jade chuckled. She had always assumed the people of the domus upheld rigid moral standards. Apparently, they were more flexible than she’d thought.

  That said, she wasn’t thrilled by the shop itself. She didn’t mind second-hand - or even third- or fourth-hand - items, but the hygiene here was another issue entirely. She had just seen bugs crawling across a bedsheet!

  Sister Miriam noticed her expression and sigh softly. “Yes, some of it is unpleasant. But you must accept it for the price. I’ll help with the washing. We can borrow the washerwoman’s place to clean the larger items.”

  “It’s alright, I’m fine,” Jade said, taking a breath - then stopping halfway as she inhaled dust and coughed. “Really. Just tell me what I should be looking for. I have no idea what winter clothes are supposed to be like. Does this work?”

  “No, silly. This won’t work at all.” Sister Miriam said, placing the garment back where it came from and pulling something else from a nearby pile. “Look for pieces like these - think fabric, tightly woven…”

  After nearly an hour of digging, the two of them finally emerged from the shop with an enormous stack of items in their arms. The pile was so high and heavy that Jade could barely see the road ahead.

  Sister Miriam led her to a corner of the street and began ticking off a mental list. “Clothes, blankets, shoes, scrap fabric for patching holes, scarves, shawls, a bonnet, gloves, yarn… all good. Now, we need to order undergarments from the seamstresses - though that may take weeks depending on their backlog - and we simply must get you a bedwarmer. Oh - and creams! We absolutely do not want your face and hands cracking or chapping in the frost.”

  “What?” Jade blinked. “Cracking? On my face? Like… how?”

  Sister Miriam looked at her with slightly widened eyes, clearly surprised by a question even a child would know the answer to. She answered with faint curiosity, gesturing to her own cheek. “The wind gets so cold that it splits the skin like this. If it’s not treated properly, it bleeds. Painfully, I might add. And in this damp cold, it takes ages to heal.”

  “Uh-huh…” Jade thought for a moment. “Actually, I think I can make my own cream. Remember? I tried making some before. It didn’t work as a whitening cream, but it should be fine for preventing cracks.”

  “Then you’ll need a fair amount,” Sister Miriam said, indicating a generous size with her hands. “Especially since you’re often in the bakehouse, near the hearth, and teaching children. Let’s get the ingredients as well, shall we?”

  “Sure, but what about all this?” Jade glanced at the pile of goods stacked neatly beside them.

  “We’ll hire a carter,” Sister Miriam said decisively. “Wait here, Miss Jade. I’ll fetch one, and have everything delivered to the domus. The other sisters will receive it for us.”

  …There's a delivery service here? Jade was quietly astonished when Sister Miriam returned with a young man pushing a two-wheel cart.

  It wasn’t large, but it was more than enough to carry everything they’d bought.

  “8 pence to deliver to Wyrnfield Domus,” the carter said. “Anything else you’d like to add, Miss Jade? Still 8 pence for the trip.”

  “I think this is enough. We can carry the rest ourselves later…” Jade glanced at Sister Miriam, who gave a quiet nod. But then, Jade’s focus quickly snapped back to him. “Wait - you know me?”

  “Of course,” the young man said with a light laugh. “You’re Miss Jade, the teacher of my youngest brother. He talks about you nonstop at home. First time I’ve seen him admire someone this much.”

  “Really?” Jade was genuinely surprised. “What’s his name?”

  “John. John Carter,” the young man replied with a grin.

  Jade immediately recalled the boy’s face. Yes - same eyes, same nose. She smiled. “He’s good at maths. A bit slow once the numbers get large, but very quick with anything under a hundred.”

  “A compliment from his teacher!” The young man looked delighted. “I’ll tell him when I get home. I’ll take these back to the domus now, Miss Jade. It was nice seeing you!”

  “Thank you. Bye,” Jade said, waving as she handed him the coins.

  When she turned back, she found Sister Miriam smiling at her with unmistakable teasing.

  “What?” Jade asked, confused.

  “Interested in the lad?” Sister Miriam whispered with a nod. “He seems responsible. Worth some attention if you ask me.”

  “What? No” Jade shook her head immediately. Then, after a brief pause, she added, “Actually, I don’t think I’ll be interested in any guy anytime soon. Probably not considering a boyfriend for the next few years.”

  “And why is that?” Sister Miriam asked as she led the way toward their next stop. “Another few years and you’ll be a spinster. Not that we mind if you remain with us, of course, but most women wish to form their own families - to enjoy life with a husband and children.”

  What’s a spinster? That doesn’t sound positive… Jade silently processed the unfamiliar term.

  She didn’t know exactly what it meant, but the implication was obvious enough. Elders urging the young to marry early - that was familiar. It had been the same back in Asia.

  So… did that mean people in this Victorian-ish era held the same standards? Believe that a married woman with a husband and children was the only definition of a perfectly happy family?

  Thus, Jade spoke tentatively, testing her theory.

  “Well… I don’t suppose rushing myself into marrying some random guy would do me any good. I mean, who knows? That fella could be an alcoholic, a gambling addict, or - worst case - a wife-and-child beater. I don’t think that’s a great way to enjoy life.”

  “But, Miss Jade,” Sister Miriam said, her expression tightening with concern, “unless you are a nun like myself, most women marry. To have a family is the utmost happiness a mortal can achieve.”

  Okay, got it. Same vibe as my cousins getting chased by their parents to marry soon - tradition! Jade thought, secretly rolling eyes.

  Still, she had no intention of arguing with the kind nun. Sister Miriam was a friend, a colleague - not her mom, and certainly not someone who could command her life. So Jade only shrugged and replied casually, “That’s if I meet a nice guy and we actually love each other. Otherwise, why would I get myself a master and turn into a slave who hands over all her hard-earned money to serve him? I could just stay single, be happy, and spend my money on myself, without worrying about getting punched by a man who doesn’t appreciate me or my work.”

  Sister Miriam opened her mouth, as if about to retort, but after a pause, she bit her tongue. Without another word on the subject, she led Jade into a pawnbroker’s shop.

  The shop sold unredeemed goods - clothing, household items, watches, jewelry, musical instruments, linens - things far finer and more expensive than what they had seen earlier.

  Perhaps Jade’s words had shocked the conservative nun. Sister Miriam was noticeably quieter now. She guided Jade directly to the section where bedwarmers were kept, then fell silent again, her expression thoughtful.

  Jade didn’t interrupt her. She was far too intrigued by the items on display. It was only now that she realised what a bedwarmer actually looked like - essentially a vessel designed to hold hot water or coals. One could either keep in a bed all night or set it aside once the mattress was warm, using a thick blanket to trap the heat.

  After a brief comparison, she chose one that could be filled with hot water. In her mind, it was essentially a historical hot-water bottle - much like the one her friend had once bought her to survive winter in Australia, back before they moved into a rental that provided an electric blanket.

  After purchasing the bedwarmer, they stopped for other small necessities - including ingredients for her moisturizing cream - before finally visiting the seamstresses for three sets of undergarments, and corsets included; since bras apparently didn’t exist here, every woman had to settle for corsets as the only way to provide any support. Throughout it all, Jade noticed that Sister Miriam remained lost in thought.

  Even after supper, when everyone had returned to their own rooms, Sister Miriam was still contemplating - quiet, distant, and unusually subdued.

  I need to state one definition here that’s very different from the term’s original meaning.

  So, in my story, “clergy” means people who vowed to serve the Light, and remain unmarried for their entire life. Thus, the “daughter of a married clergyman” plot commonly found in historical stories does not exist in my story. And clergy - again, in my story - is an umbrella term that includes nuns, monks, and other kinds of occupations that hold a religious position.

  Just so you won’t be confused if you happened to read other stories and noticed the odds.