It's a little chilly.

　I woke up this morning with a chill I felt in my body.

　The Fall Harvest Festival had been gone for a month. The air was slowly getting drier and colder.

　I thought I was keeping my clothes warm, but today's temperature was apparently even colder than that.

　I crawled out of bed and looked out the window to see that it didn't seem to be snowing.

　As expected, it's not that cold.

　As I was relieved to see the view outside, I saw Bartolo in the courtyard with a bucket.

　What is he doing?

　When I opened the window to call out to him, a cold breeze came in from outside.

　I wanted to close the window, but I didn't know why I was opening it, so I resisted the urge to close it.

'Bartolo, what are you doing?

I'm picking up a branch.

　Bartolo replied, and was collecting branches that had been dropped by the trees in the courtyard.

'What do you use those branches for?'

To put the fireplace on.

'Oh!　Fireplace!

　The winter heating system is finally in action.

　I was excited, feeling as if winter was officially recognized as coming.

'Is the boy interested in it too?'

Yeah, I'll be waiting in the living room for you to come back soon!

Hey, don't you think that's where you're supposed to be helping the kid pick up sticks?

　He closed the window as he heard Bartolo's discouraging dialogue slightly and closed the window to end the conversation.

　I'm not kidding about picking up branches in this cold. I just want to be there for the fireplace to operate.

　I change out of my nightgown and into some solid, warm clothes and go downstairs to the living room.

　It's early morning, not even breakfast time yet. No one had shown up in the living room yet.

　However, since everyone is habitually an early riser, they're already up and must be relaxing in their rooms.

　Bartolo is still gathering branches, or maybe he's still gathering branches, and there's no sign of him coming into the living room.

　Just waiting is boring, so I decided to prepare tea on my own.

　I could call one of the maids to make it for me, but I don't want to have to call them in on a busy morning.

　It's easier to brew the tea myself than to worry about being strangely concerned about it, so at times like this, I decide to do it myself.

　When I put the tea leaves in the teapot, I pour the hot water I've magically created into it.

　The trick to making a good cup of tea is to pour it in vigorously at this point. This makes the tea in the teapot bounce up and down and the flavors and tastes become stronger.

　After filling the pot with hot water, turn the hourglass over and wait an appropriate amount of time.

　The tea leaves are not that big, but the temperature is low today, so you may want to steep them a little more.

　The tea leaves were stirred inside the teapot and moved up and down softly.

　It's just like a living creature, so it's cute.

"Oh, Bartolo. Welcome home.

　As I looked at the teapot, Bartolo returned to the living room.

　In the bucket were not only branches, but also large wood, fire scissors and other tools. So everything is already in place.

"d*mn it, kid, you're the only one who's been waiting for it.

'Oh well, come on, I've got a hot cup of tea waiting for you.

　While quieting Bartolo, I prepared tea for exactly two people.

　This time I added honey to soften Bartolo's sluggish heart.

　I handed him the teacup and Bartolo wrapped his big hand around it.

　Then he blew on it to cool it down a few times and sipped on it.

'Oh, with honey. The warmth and sweetness of this tea seems to permeate your body.

The colder it gets, the better the food tastes.

　It seems that the honey has safely melted Bartolo's heart.

　Bartolo's face, which had been grim, has softened in an instant.

　I usually don't put anything in my tea, but for some reason in winter I want to try milk tea and many other things. I wonder why.

'Well, now let's warm up the living room.

　Bartolo guffawed at his tea and quickly approached the fireplace.

　I'm quick to drink it down, even though I'm not even halfway through it.

　I put my teacup on the table and I head towards the fireplace as well.

　Bartolo opens the vent and sets up the bricks in a U-shape.

　It's hard to light a fire when you suddenly put together wood. Placing the bricks on top of the firewood creates a path for the fire to pass through and makes it easier to start the fire.

　As I was observing the laying out of the larger wood, Bartolo took a piece of paper from his pocket.

'Boy, twist the paper as you see fit.

Is this the right thing to use?

　I don't care if it's a scrap of paper used for notes, but the paper you're given is of the same high quality that you would use for a letter.

　It is a shame to make the paper of a reasonable price into a spark. Well, in our financial situation, it's not a problem to use a bang for the buck.

'It's the kind of thing that Nord messed up when he was writing letters and couldn't use anymore.

'Then you could put the back side on graffiti paper--oh, I even wrote on the back and realized my mistake.

　When I looked at the back of the paper, I saw that the words were written in thick letters.

　I don't know where exactly I made a mistake, but I must have misdrawn the name or the name or some other fatal part.

　It must be a great feeling of despair when you realize you've written so much and it's all ruined.

'Even Dad Nord makes mistakes like this.

Yeah, he gets up to no good sometimes. He's good at pulling it off, but he does make some mistakes.

　Bartolo said, laughing happily.

　'I heard that Bartolo was adventurous with Dad Nord at times, and I'm sure he knows a lot more than I do.

'Well, I'm trying my best to show him the dignity of being a father. Keep your eyes open for these things.

I'm not as lame as you make out.

　If you take into account the age in my previous life, my father Nord and I are not that different in age.

　But even so, he's married, independent as a nobleman, and has three children, so the difference is amazing.

　I twisted the paper and tucked it under the firewood, thinking to myself, "Now all we have to do is arrange the branches.

'All that's left to do is lay out the branches.

　I take the branches out of the bucket and lay them out on the newspaper and bricks.

　Not to block the path of the fire, of course.

'Boy, take care of the fire,'

Hey.

　I activated my fire magic and sent a small fireball flying into the twisted paper.

　The paper burned up quickly and Bartolo arranged the larger wood and branches in front of me.

　He used the fire scissors to prepare the wood for the proper air circulation, and threw in the paper shavings.

'Boy, can you get a little wind?

Hey.

　I activated my wind magic and let the wind in to blow up from under the bricks.

　The air was stirred and the flames grew, spreading one by one to the wood and branches.

　The wood and branches turned red hot and black one after another.

　You could hear the crackling sound of the wood and branches exploding.

　Yes, yes, yes. That sound is what a fireplace sounds like.

　Unlike a bonfire, the sound is reverberating, so this sounds calmer.

'Okay, we're in good shape now. It's a lot easier to light a fireplace when you have the magic of a monk.

'You don't come to turn on the fireplace every day when you compliment me like that.

Tsk.

　This is the first time I've come to help out with the fireplace, but as expected, I don't want to get up early every morning to light it.

　Bartolo looks disappointed and leaves, putting down the firewood and wood shavings he needs.

　Bartolo came back into the living room to go back to work.

I've got something for you, kid.

　I turned around and smiled innocently as Bartolo held a sausage on a skewer.

　It's a given how and where to grill it and eat it.

''Of course I'm going to eat it.

　We took the skewers from Bartolo and roasted the sausages side by side on the fire.

　Because of the fireplace fire, the degree of heat is rough and the sausages are covered in black ink, but that's what's good.

　The sausages smoked by the rough flame and smoke are absolutely delicious.

　The sausage turned redder and redder, and the fat dropped into the fireplace.

'Ah, this will definitely be delicious with a drink.'

I thought about it, but don't say it. You won't be able to resist when you have a job to do.

I don't have a job, so you don't have to put up with me.

No, you're still a kid, you have to put up with it.

　What a lighthearted exchange of words, the sausage was well cooked.

Okay, let's eat.

Yes.

　I breathed on the hot sausage before I chewed on it.

　The skin was a little overcooked and hard, but it made a nice crispy sound and the hot juices popped.

　I chewed on it as I rolled it around in my mouth, savoring the rough meat.

'Oooh, yum!'

Yeah, it's good.

　I didn't put any effort into it. I just roasted them in front of the fireplace.

　That's all there is to it, but the sausages you eat in front of the fireplace are exceptionally delicious.

When you turn on the fireplace, you can enjoy this every day.

'Oh!　That's the best--no, not even if it's not first thing in the morning, the sausage is still good, right?

Just hang on there and nod your head.

　When he realized I wasn't nodding, Bartolo took a bite of his sausage, musing.

　What did I say, but it's nice to have a quiet fireplace meal with two guys like this in the middle of the day.

　I thought I'd help him when I felt like it.