Today as well, Carla was vexed.

A strong worker had come into their home. He did everything you asked of him, as long as you gave him food. On top of that, he even brought a piglet as a gift when he came in.

This was surely a happy occasion… if not for the fact that her daughter was overly concerned with that very worker!

Grinding her teeth, Carla peered at Bertram, who’d begun cleaning since the break of dawn.

Last night, she had sent him to the public sleeping quarters in case something might happen with Anna under the same roof. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that this daughter of hers had gone out to follow the man and come back.

The amount of contempt she’d felt at her daughter when she’d come in on tip-toes late last night!

‘Hold it in, Carla. It’s probably because I was overly harsh on him that she’s rebelling.’

However, even as she tried…

‘Wait a hot second: if you’re twenty-two, aren’t you supposed to be past your rebellious stage?’

Those magical words—wait a hot second—fanned the fire burning within Carla.

‘If things had been like before, then I’d have married her off at nineteen or twenty and been completely relaxed by now. But thanks to how worn out everyone became after the war, we’ve come to this point. My child’s all grown up now, and she’s at that age to be interested in men; what in the world is that Dieter kid doing, doesn’t he like Anna? ….What am I going to do if the Bertram guy gains an interest in my daughter? Isn’t she on the pretty side? No, no. He wouldn’t be interested in a teeny thing like her, right? He would have to have no conscience for that!’

While Carla was not realizing the irony in thinking of her daughter as both ‘all grown up’ and ‘teeny’ at the same time, Bertram approached her suddenly to speak.

“I’ve finished sweeping the restaurant. Next—”

“Is the pigsty.”

“I have also finished cleaning the pigsty after I was done with the restaurant.”

“Give me a second. I need to think about it.”

“Should I clean your house?”

“Oh, that sounds like… a bad idea! Don’t try to enter other people’s homes so easily! We’ll clean our home ourselves!”

“I understand. I will not bring it up again.”

He was not being sarcastic; he most likely meant every word.

Even when she was teaching him how to prepare ingredients, he remembered every single thing she told him and did only as she asked him.

Very convenient, she had to admit, but she wondered why it put her in worse temper the more she talked to him.

“Mr. Bertram. How old are you?”

“Twenty-five this year.”

“You’re younger than I thought. Isn’t it about time for you to get married, then? Shouldn’t you be returning to your hometown and setting your parents’ minds at ease?”

Carla was attempting to get on Bertram’s nerves by acting out the snooty boomer.

But Bertram’s response was completely out of the blue.

“My marriage is to be decided by my uncle. However, I’ve heard no news from him yet.”

“Why is your uncle deciding your marriage?! It would be weird even if you said your father was!”

“All my other family members passed away during the war, so my sole surviving relative is my uncle. All household matters have been therefore left to him.”

“…I see.”

What soon followed was a silence that only Bertram was comfortable with.

Once the conversation had turned to the subject of families, she could find nothing to say. Carla began urgently looking for something else to talk about.

She had many things she wanted to ask.

Who are you really, what does your uncle do, when are you going to go home, do you like my daughter, so on and so forth.

But say she did ask that; what if he laughed at her, jeering, ‘they say even monkeys think their children pretty’—but so what if he laughed, was it so wrong for her to think her own child was pretty? …so on and so forth. Her mind only became more jumbled the more she thought.

However, the silence did not wait for Carla forever.

“If you don’t have anywhere for me to clean, then please excuse me, I’ll….”

“W-wait! Mr. Bertram!”

“Yes?”

“Is my daughter pretty?”

The silence returned.

With a fire-red face, Carla began blurting out whatever came to mind.

“N-no, no, never mind! I misspoke! It’s just, my child, you know, her father was quite handsome, and this isn’t something I should say but I was quite the looker in the past, too, but she doesn’t look a thing like either of us. That’s not to say that she’s ugly… but….”

“According to the general standards of beauty, I think you are still quite beautiful, Mrs. Carla.”

“Away with your flattery! I’m asking if my daughter looks cute and pretty to you!”

“…I do not know. If you wish to know, I can go see her now and return to give you my answer.”

“You need to go see her for this?”

“You see, the only image of her I can think of right now is the top of her head.”

Though it wasn’t that he never had the chance to see Anna face-to-face, the occasion usually happened in the evening or night, or during a meal.

It was always either too dark to see clearly, or he could only remember her when her cheeks were stuffed with food like a wild hamster.

Or, like last night, when she was excessively sparkly under the moonlight.

Which was why he’d said he would go see her and answer, but Carla grabbed onto Bertram’s hem and pulled with all her might.

“I don’t really want to know anymore, so just go clean up the public quarters instead!”

“Understood. And I will also keep what you’ve said today a secret.”

“Huh?”

“If Miss Anna heard you say ‘it’s sad my daughter doesn’t look like me,’ then she would be disheartened.

Things were getting more and more preposterous.

Not only was he himself very good at getting on other people’s nerves, but he was even going as far as to admonish the very owner of the house that took him in.

Facing the wide backside of the figure disappearing down the hill, Carla grumbled with all the force of her irritation.

“Do you need to see to know? You can tell how adorable Anna is just by the back of her head, dangit….”

“….Mom? What are you doing, this early!”

With a shaky gaze, Anna was staring at Carla, having stepped out of the restaurant at some point