Sugar Apple Fairytale Vol 2 Chapter 7

Chapter 7. If I continue gazing at you
As the old castle was built with battle in mind, defending the Castle-Lord's
chamber was simple. In the event of an enemy invasion, the Castle-Lord's
chamber would be defended for a fixed amount of time, during which they may
escape, or alternatively, commit suicide.
Other than the staircase centered in the castle tower, there were no other means
of reaching Alban's room. The staircase was barely wide enough for two adult
men to walk side by side; moreover, its winding made running up difficult.
Defending the stairwell entrance would prevent anyone from coming near the
room Ann and Alban were in.
Shall stood at the stairwell entrance with his sword in hand. Slowly, he closed
his eyes; he felt uneasy.
Ann was in the room he was defending behind him―that was fine. The problem
was Alban; that obsession-possessed man might harm her on an impulse.
In truth, he didn't want to do something like leaving the two of them alone, but
Ann strongly wished for the sugar sculpture's completion. It was in no way
solely for the sake of the one thousand Cress reward, nor was it obstinacy; it
was her own pride, and her tenacity as a craftsman.
"That idiot."
But―Ann being Ann―it couldn't be helped. If that was her wish, he intended
to grant it.
Sugar Apple Fairy Tale Vol. 2 - Ginzatoushi to Ao no Koushaku.
   
   
Outside the castle tower, voices of jostling soldiers and sounds of conflict were
heard. They'd be coming soon.
"Over there! It's that staircase!" voiced one of the soldiers.
Upon opening his eyes, he saw five soldiers rushing over, the sound of
chainmail resounding. Holding up his sword, he commanded, "Stop."
Noticing Shall's figure, the soldiers came to a halt.
"Duke Philax's warrior-fairy?"
Looking puzzled, they exchanged glances, then said, "Fairy, step aside. Even if
you protect your owner at this point, it's futile. We will be placing him under
constraint; your owner will inevitably be replaced."
"Unfortunately, I have no owner."
At that answer, the soldiers' expressions grew increasingly puzzled.
"Though by no one's orders, I won't let you pa.s.s."
Apparently sensing Shall's strong will, the five soldiers readied their swords.
Shall, too, still alertly poising his, surveyed the five.
Just then, a voice sounded behind the soldiers. "Heeey, hold it, hold it."
Beyond the dark hall, Hugh came walking over with a lamp in hand. Behind
him followed Salim with a blood-stained sword.
The soldiers' eyes widened upon seeing Hugh come in sight.
"Silver-Sugar Viscount? Why are you here? Weren't you to remain in waiting 
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along with Earl Downing…?"
"I was going to, but when I told Earl Downing that I'd like to go personally if
an old friend of mine is to be captured, he allowed it. I cut through the fighting
on Salim's horse, and came here. By the way, you should give up on taking that
on as an opponent. All five of you will be cut down."
While speaking, Hugh came in front of the five soldiers. "So I heard from Salim
that you left on your own to save Ann, but why is it that you're protecting Alban,
Shall?"
"I'm not protecting him. I just need time. I can't let you pa.s.s for a while."
"Now that it's come to this, Alban has no way to escape. I want to see him
quickly and take him away unharmed. That's all. Let me pa.s.s, Shall. The more
they think he's resisting, the more he'll be at a disadvantage."
"Sorry, but I can't let you pa.s.s."
"Why?"
"Time is necessary. That's what she wishes for."
"She? You mean Ann? I don't know what she's up to but, at any rate, let me
pa.s.s."
"I refuse."
Hugh clicked his tongue in frustration. "You haven't forgotten, have you? I have
your wing here." He directed a sharp gaze at Shall while softly searching
through his inner chest pocket.
Shall felt a shiver down his spine before the prospect of having his wing hurt. 
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Biting it down with his back teeth, he smiled thinly. "If you want to do it, go
ahead."
"I'm your owner."
"I have no owner," said Shall once more.
Their powerful gazes clashed.
*
"Silver-colored eyes, with a transparent feeling, right?"
Ann poured a handful of silver-sugar into a small pot. She ran it over to the
fireplace, and held its bottom over the flames.
"What do you intend to do?" murmured Alban, overwhelmed by Ann's spirit.
He couldn't hide his surprise and confusion at how, even after the soldiers
stormed in, she declared she would continue making the sugar sculpture.
"I shall create silver-colored eyes."
Inside the warmed pot, the silver-sugar began to melt, turning into a thick, clear
liquid. Small, k.n.o.bbly bubbles boiled up from within the pot.
"Alright."
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Ann removed the pot from the fire, and like so, headed towards the workstand's
stone slate. She emptied the molten silver-sugar over the slate at once, and after
chilling her fingers in cold water, she touched them to the thickly spreading,
clear silver-sugar liquid.
"Hot―!"
She instantly drew her hand back from the heat. But, after chilling her fingers
in cold water once more, she split the already hardening silver-sugar liquid into
two―each roughly the size of a thumbnail.
The liquid's viscosity grew quickly, and the silver-sugar became soft and jellylike.
She then rounded those up over the stone slate.
Once silver-sugar was melted via heat, its properties changed. When chilled, it
became stiffly solid, and transparent like gla.s.s.
Over the stone slate, the molten silver-sugar that had been rolled in the palm of
her hand became splendid spheres. The small spheres looked like little crystal
b.a.l.l.s.
Grabbing the two in her fingertips, she held them up against the lamp's light.
The orange-colored light refracted and transmitted gleamingly. Gazing at it, she
nodded.
"Yes. All right."
Then, she drew her hand to the area of the sugar-sculpture's face. Making dents
in the position of the eyes, she created the eye sockets. At their bottom, the eye
sockets were filled with the gray hue the silver-sugar applied. Inside them, she
embedded the spheres she had just made. 
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She added eyelids, and made lashes. The lashes, she finely crafted one by one,
making sure to hold her breath while intertwining them with her fingertips. She
applied countless of them. Then, taking a needle in hand, she cleaved their tips,
making them even finer.
―Come forth.
Unconsciously, she prayed in heart.
―Here… in this sugar sculpture… appear.
She begged of her own fingertips―that the 'form' Alban desired may appear.
"…This is…" whispered Alban, standing up involuntarily.
While shaping the lashes, the sweat streaming from her head blurred her eyes,
but even the time to wipe it was too precious, and she continued working as is.
Alban slowly came near the sugar-sculpture.
Suddenly, Ann stopped the needle's movement. Something instinctively told her
it was complete.
―This… is probably enough.
Lowering her arms, she looked over the entire sugar-sculpture. Silver eyes were
looking down at her.
"Christina… " Alban whispered.
Relieved, Ann smiled.
"Was I able to make a sugar-sculpture that meets Your Grace's expectations?"
Looking down at the life-sized fairy sugar-sculpture, Alban muttered, "It's her."
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It was oddly big for a sugar-sculpture, but in comparison to the figure of the
fairy, calmly standing as though having adapted to the atmosphere, the size
didn't catch the eye.
The faint blue coloring looked fleeting, as though about to disappear at any
moment. Still, gazing at it, one could tell the silky, water flow-like hair; the
gently smiling lips; and those silver-colored eyes, were startlingly pure.
Most likely, she had always humbly remained by Alban's side, smiling gently.
That was probably the kind of woman she was. Ann could somewhat understand
that.
"I was able to make it. Thank G.o.d." Relieved, a smile escaped her lips.
Alban looked at Ann, and for a while, remained silent.
"Craftsman… I didn't catch your name."
"Halford. My name is Ann Halford."
"Halford, is it?" he repeated for confirmation, then once again turned his face
to the fairy sugar-sculpture. "This… is what I wanted, Halford."
"Yes."
Sugar Apple Fairy Tale Vol. 2 - Ginzatoushi to Ao no Koushaku.
   
   
Sugar Apple Fairy Tale Vol. 2 - Ginzatoushi to Ao no Koushaku.
   
   
"It's ironic. Seeing this in front of me, the more I understand. As that fairy said,
from this mere 'form,' that love-filled life can't be born… But… I wanted it.
From the moment I thought perhaps, I wanted it so badly I couldn't bear it… I
wanted to see her."
The obsession that had engulfed him up to that point disappeared from Alban,
who spoke indifferently. Albeit intellectual, calm, and of a n.o.ble status―there
stood a young man in an unfortunate position. Surely, even as he obsessively
sought the sugar-sculpture, deep in his heart, a part of him must have possessed
this reasoning. Torn between reason and obsession, he suffered.
―Although, rather, if His Grace could have become a man of nothing but
obsession, he'd be immersed in delight right now.
He should have obtained what he so maddeningly wanted, yet, seeing Alban's
sad expression, Ann's chest hurt. The blue color of madness she felt engulfing
Alban's entirety up to that point, she realized, was actually the color of sorrow
and despair.
"However foolish a thought it might have been, I wanted it. I just wanted it."
"It's not like it's been proven," said Ann, involuntarily.
Alban slowly turned his face towards her.
"Fairies are born from an object's energy and the gaze of a living being. If that
'form' was Lady Christina herself, perhaps if Your Grace thought of Lady
Christina and continued to gaze at it, eventually, something might happen. No
one's proven that nothing would happen."
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At those words, Alban suddenly smiled.
"Even as a consolation, that's a pleasant thought. Indeed, this sugar-sculpture is
Christina herself. So much so, that it makes me feel it wouldn't be strange if
something did happen… Halford."
"Yes."
"There's a leather bag on that table over there. There are ten one-hundred Cress
gold coins inside. You may take it."
Indeed, there was a bag placed over the work-desk.
"Are you certain?"
"That was the agreement, no need to hold back. You may take it and return to
where your fairy is. Go."
Ann took the leather bag in hand as told. It was quite heavy. The sound of the
coins rubbing against each other inside the bag, without a doubt, belonged to
gold.
"Then, I'll be receiving this."
She quickly bowed her head, and was about to leave through the door.
"Halford."
She was hailed just before she could walk out. When she turned around, Alban
was smiling. Though it was a gentle smile, he looked as though he was about to
cry at any moment.
"You… are the greatest sugar-craftsman."
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Ann returned the smile, all the while wishing that from now on, the young man
before her might receive even the slightest salvation.
"Thank you very much."
*
Hugh and Shall were glaring at each other.
Hugh placed a little strength into the hand inserted into his coat. Feeling a sense
of discomfort in his entire body, Shall frowned.
―Gonna do it?
Then, suddenly, the discomfort disappeared. Hugh was looking up at the stairs
over Shall's shoulder.
"Ann?"
At Hugh's murmur, Shall turned around.
Ann was coming down the dimly lit stairs, tightly clutching a leather bag before
her chest with both hands. Perhaps due to fatigue, her gait was unreliable and
unsteady.
Apparently recognizing Shall's figure standing there, she smiled gently.
"Shall. . . . Eh? Hugh?"
As soon as she called out, her leg slipped, and with a short shriek, her body was
thrown in the air.
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"Ann!"
Faster than Hugh had raised his voice, Shall dissolved the sword in his hand and
caught Ann's body as she came falling down, strongly enduring the sudden
impact to his arm.
Once he was convinced he'd caught her, he took a breath, and looked down at
her. It seemed Ann had yet to recover from the shock of falling, and simply
looked up at Shall with perfectly round eyes.
"Shall. Th… thank you."
Normally, that was where he'd want to say a few things about her carelessness,
but in his relief at her safe return, no words came out. He silently let her down
to the floor, and like so, tightly embraced her to his chest.
"Shall?" Ann called his name in confusion.
Hugh came near the two.
"Are you hurt, Ann?"
"It's really Hugh, right? What are you doing here?" questioned Ann from within
Shall's chest.
"Due to various circ.u.mstances, I came to take Duke Philax into custody. Is he
upstairs?"
"Yeah, he's there. Together with the sugar-sculpture," she retorted, looking
somewhat satisfied.
"Sugar-sculpture? That you made?”
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"That's right. A sugar-sculpture of Lady Christina."
"I see." For just a moment, Hugh showed a pained expression.
"It seems His Grace has prepared himself. Please don't be rough, Hugh."
Hugh shrugged. "I'm the Silver-Sugar Viscount, so I won't do anything rough.
Rest a.s.sured."
He then faced Salim and the five soldiers behind him, and jerked his chin.
"You heard it, no rough stuff. Hey, one of you go outside and inform Earl
Downing that Duke Philax has been detained. And also to stop the battle. Salim,
lead the remaining four and go to the room upstairs. You should know the place.
I'll go later."
One of the soldiers ran off towards the outside of the castle tower. Accompanied
by the other four, Salim went climbing up the stairs.
After seeing them off, Hugh pulled out a small leather bag from his inner chest
pocket.
"I'm returning this."
It was the leather bag containing Shall's wing.
Ann tilted her head.
"That's… Shall's. Why do you…?"
"I took it up from Shall but, even with this, this guy absolutely won't listen to
what I say, so I don't need it. Here."
He casually tossed it at Shall, who caught it in one hand.
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"I'll make you pay for that."
At Shall's words, Hugh exclaimed "Ehh―!" in an exaggerated expression of
surprise.
"How come? I gave your wing back. I did the same thing as Ann, so how come
Ann gets off with that, and I have to pay? That's discrimination," said Hugh
while climbing up the stairs, grinning.
It had finally gone quiet, and Ann seemed to realize that she'd been tightly held
into Shall's chest the entire time.
"Ah―! Why, I―!"
Startled, she stirred herself in attempt to escape from him. However, Shall
wouldn't allow that. Placing even more strength into his arms, he hugged her.
Apparently sensing that, Ann's movements stopped.
"Shall?"
Her face turned red in a flash, but he didn't care, and continued to hug her.
"What's wrong? Hey. Umm, oh. That's right. I got the one-thousand Cress. I
have it here."
He felt a slight movement from the leather bag she was holding before her chest.
"Hey, Shall."
"Stay still for a while."
"Eh… But…"
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Despite hearing her fl.u.s.tered voice, he embraced her further.
Ann cast her eyes down.
"…A-alright." Replying obediently, she stopped moving.
"You idiot. Don't make me worry."
"I'm sorry. But, I―Because I'm a sugar-craftsman… But, I'm sorry…"
"Ann," he murmured her name to ascertain her safety.
Then, Ann said softly, "The second time . . ."
He heard that.
"What is?"
"Not referring to me as 'scarecrow' or 'you idiot' or 'stupid,' but as Ann, by name.
Just now makes it twice."
At those words, Shall's eyes widened. "You keep count of something like that?
Why?"
"Because. It's because being called by name makes me happy."
―Really!?
It was a slight shock. If such trivial matters could make her happy or sad, it was
no wonder he couldn't comprehend her strange behavior. Seriously, he didn't
understand humans. Especially―even more so than Liz―he didn't understand
Ann.
At the very least, he was able to predict Liz's actions, but he couldn't predict
Ann's. He didn't think that, knowing the castle was surrounded by soldiers, she 
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would continue making the sugar-sculpture in the presence of that Alban. Yet
she declared it her wish with eyes that harbored a strong will. He didn't know
any other girl that would give such a strong look.
She was full of surprises and puzzles. But for some reason, it wasn't unpleasant.
It even seemed to be amusing. It was strange.
For the time being, he decided in his heart to call her by name as much as
possible from then on.
"Shall," Ann whispered doubtfully. "I want to stay together. From now on,
alright?"
In place of an answer, Shall held her even tighter.
He still didn't understand why, but he felt relieved by having retrieved this girl
in his arms. The body he was embracing was warm. That warmth was like
embracing something soft and tender.*
*
Alban, Duke of Philax, was apprehended by the Silver-Sugar Viscount, Hugh
Mercury, and was sent to Lewiston under the watch of Earl Downing. One
month later, King Edmond II's cousin, John Black, was newly conferred the
peerage of Duke Philax.
Alban, of course, was presumed to face execution. However, the restrained
Alban remained as intellectual and calm a young man as ever. Even regarding 
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his being taken into custody, he himself declared it a matter of course, as he had
neglected his obligation.
At his commendable behavior, even Earl Downing―who was the forefront in
orchestrating the downfall of the Alban House―seemed moved. The King, who
had been sympathetic towards Alban from the start, of course, didn't wish for a
harsh punishment.
In the end, Alban was stripped of his status, and under Earl Downing's
surveillance, was sentenced to house arrest in a small castle at the outskirts of
Westhall.
He was forbidden from making contact with the outside, and wasn't allowed to
get married. His personal needs were to be tended to by fairies, due to the
concern that, should a human woman care for his personal needs, a turn for the
worse might cause his lineage to linger. With William's generation, the Alban
House was to end. He became a prisoner for life.
But Alban seemed to spend his days peacefully, living without having to pander
to the King. By becoming a prisoner, he was able to protect his pride.
The fairy sugar-sculpture he had specially made was placed in his room. He was
said to be spending his time tirelessly gazing at it every day.
While even having troops dispatched, it was a generous treatment, said to be
extremely exceptional. Because of that, people started talking. They were
saying, "Duke Philax obtained a wondrous sugar-sculpture, and thanks to that,
he received good fortune beyond one's imagination." 
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And, naturally, the name of the craftsman who made that sugar sculpture was
talked about as well.
*
"h.e.l.lo, auntie!"
Upon opening the door to the Weather Vane, located on the outskirts west of
Lewiston, the eyes of the Landlady, who was serving food to the guests,
suddenly sparkled.
"Little Miss, is it?! You sure did it!"
The Landlady placed a plate of food on a guest's table with a toss, and came
running over. She hugged Ann tightly to her chest.
"Auntie? What is it? What do you mean by 'did it'?"
"There are rumors going around. That a sugar-sculpture to Duke Philax's liking
was made, and thanks to that, he received magnificent good fortune. And that
the name of the craftsman that made that sugar-sculpture is Ann Halford!"
"Really?"
Ann was surprised. It seemed the rumors reached Lewiston faster than she did.
Upon leaving the castle, she had spent three days in the city of Philax, and after
ridding herself of her fatigue, she once again returned to Lewiston.
She intended to reserve an inn for lodging during winter, where she would spend 
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an enjoyable end of the year. The funds for that were the one-thousand Cress
she received from Alban.
She had more than enough money, but due to her natural poor man's mentality,
she wanted to choose a cheap and safe place that suited her standing.
That was when she came to the Weather Vane.
The Landlady released Ann, and smiled at Shall and Mythrill who were behind
her as well.
"Glad to see the two of you, too."
At the Landlady's words, the guests who were having lunch seemed to have
taken an interest in Ann's direction.
A man that looked like a peddler called out from a nearby table, "So you're that
rumored sugar-craftsman. You sure are young. How much do you charge?"
"Well, the largest, most elaborate pieces are two Cress."
"Huh, that's relatively moderate. I'm going to have a child soon. Maybe I should
order a celebratory sugar-sculpture from you."
"Eh, by all means!"
At that moment, an unamused voice sounded at the corner of the room.
"You should probably give up on having a sugar-sculpture made by her."
Looking over, it was those youths from the Radcliffe Guild. Jonas included.
As soon as Jonas's gaze met with Ann's, he quickly looked away.
"That girl seduced the Silver-Sugar Viscount. You can guess how she even got 
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Duke Philax to like her. Right, Jonas?"
Implored by his companion for a.s.sent, with an unfixed gaze, Jonas retorted in a
small voice, "Ah, yeah . . . Well. But, that's . . ."
"What's with that? You're being unclear. Though, as for Jonas here, we all saw
Duke Philax acknowledge him, so we can guarantee it."
"But, even if you got Duke Philax's liking that way and made a sugar-sculpture,
if the sugar-sculpture was badly made, it wouldn't bring good fortune, right?"
said a woman sitting at the counter, who seemed to be a merchant house's
Landlady.
"That's right. The sugar-sculpture this child made for Duke Philax granted him
an unbelievably generous treatment. That's an immensely good fortune. That's
the sugar-sculpture's power, isn't it?" concurred the Landlady.
"Even you fellows acknowledge that this child made that sugar-sculpture,
right?"
Being thus told, the youths were at a loss for words. Jonas was uncomfortably
fidgeting more and more.
A young man who was sitting near the youths abruptly opened his mouth. "All
of you, enough of this unsightly behavior. You'll damage the name of the
Radcliffe Guild."
Displeased, they glared at him. But once the young man stood up and looked in
their direction, they raised their voices in surprise.
"Keith… You. Why, in such a place…" murmured Jonas.
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The one they called Keith slowly surveyed Jonas and them.
"I sometimes come here for lunch, you didn't know? All of you, leave this place
immediately. I don't want you to cause any more embarra.s.sment."
"But, Keith! This girl really―" One of the youths raised his voice to complain,
at which the other jokingly placed an index finger to his lips and sounded a
"shh".
However, those eyes were not laughing.
"Be quiet before you make me upset."
The youths fell silent at the quiet intimidation. After exchanging glances, they
got off their seats.
"Alright. If Keith says so, we'll leave."
"Glad to hear."
The youths came walking in Ann's direction, and while making sure not to look
at her, they took their leave. Only Jonas glanced her way as he pa.s.sed her, but
that time as well, as soon as their eyes met, he quickly looked away and left.
Kathy, who followed after him, glared at Ann like at an enemy as usual before
leaving.
After they left, the one called Keith placed a generous sum over the table, then
called out to the Landlady, "Sorry for making a fuss. I'll be fleeing as well."
He slowly came towards the entrance, and momentarily paused before Ann.
He had bright brown hair, and purplish dark-blue eyes; prudent-looking,
composed features; draped in a fine knee-length coat.
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"My colleagues said something rude. Forgive them."
"Eh, no, it didn't bother me."
With just a little smile at the edges of his mouth, the young man took his leave.
Ann tilted her head while seeing off his back.
―A member of Radcliffe?
Full of smiles, the Landlady placed a hand on Ann's shoulder while Ann was
staring at the entrance.
"Now, once again, welcome. Here for lodging? Or perhaps food?"
Turning around, Ann pulled herself together and smiled.
"Both. Lodging and food."
"Yay! Warm food! Ann, Shall Fen Shall, let's sit here. It's close to the stove; it's
the best seat."
Mythrill headed towards a table at the back of the room while bouncing up and
down. Despite being unable to feel the cold himself, his concern in picking a
table near the stove for Ann's sake made her happy.
Speaking of, the Weather Vane Landlady's concern towards the fairies made
her happy as well. She had expressly called out to Shall and Mythrill by saying,
"Glad to see you." As the owner, she welcomed the fairies. Meaning, in this
place, the owner acknowledged that fairies were allowed to dine together with
everyone. By doing so, she made that known to the other guests, and if one had
a problem with that, they had no choice but to leave.
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"I wonder what I should have. But first I want to drink some warm wine with
lots of sugar and a lemon squeeze. It's a staple of winter, so I absolutely gotta
have it."
Mythrill rushed to take a sit and excitedly looked up at the blackboard on the
wall. The blackboard had "Today's featured menu" written on it in chalk.
"Let's go, too, Shall. I'm also hungry. For now, I want the Weather Vane's
specialty bean soup and walnut bread. Then for the main dish maybe some
chicken grilled with salt herbs. And maybe some dessert, too."
As she headed towards the table while rubbing her stomach, Shall muttered in
amazement, "You plan on eating that much?"
"Well, it's because I'm hungry. Is that wrong? Ah, that's right. What if I get fat?"
"No matter how much a scarecrow eats, it probably won't get much bigger.
Hurry up and take a seat, Ann."
"Again with the scarecrow… Ah… But…”
Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Ann took a seat, then tilted her head to look at
Shall. During the past few days, she'd been meaning to ask about something she
thought was strange.
Noticing her gaze, Shall, who'd taken a seat, furrowed his eyebrows.
"What is it? You're making a weird face."
"Hey, Shall. Though it was the same just now, too, only these past three days,
you'd sometimes call me by name. Why?"
Being called by name made her very happy, but she felt a sense of discomfort. 
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Why Shall suddenly felt like calling her by name was so strange she couldn't
bear it.
"You said it makes you happy, didn't you? So I intend to make an effort."
"Eh, then, you calling me things like 'scarecrow' or 'you idiot' till now wasn't
out of spite to purposely bully me!? Though you casually called me scarecrow
just now, too, that was unconsciously!?" she asked back in surprise, at which
Shall showed a complex expression.
"…You think that I’m that spiteful?"
"So it wasn't spite…"
Then that meant Shall's abusive language was by nature. She was shocked.
Flowing from the kitchen were the aromas of bean soup, warmed wine, and
thoroughly smoked meat. The smell of the food, along with the heat of the stove,
made one feel relieved. Mythrill ecstatically sniffed at the smell of the cooking.
Shall seemed to find being thought of as spiteful to the core funny. He lowered
his gaze, and let out a chuckle.
Gazing at his long, laid down lashes as he smiled, Ann felt incredibly happy.
She was happy he was there before her eyes, happy he was smiling.
Her light feelings towards him continued to reside in her heart, but she no longer
felt any strange nervousness. Shall was there―that was enough. Mythrill was
with her, too. With just that, she felt relieved and contented. She, too, smiled
naturally.
Sugar Apple Fairy Tale Vol. 2 - Ginzatoushi to Ao no Koushaku.
   
   
"Now, what'll it be!?" The Landlady called out from beyond the counter in an
energetic voice.
For the time being, the three of them were happy.
Afterword
h.e.l.lo, everyone. I'm Mikawa Miri.
Thankfully, I was able to write Sugar Apple Fairy Tale's sequel.
At the end of the previous work "The Silver-Sugar Master and the Black Fairy",
I personally thought, "Ann became happy! That's all that matters!"
But, in writing the sequel, I suddenly recovered myself.
Ann missed her chance to become a Silver-Sugar Master. And she barely has
any possessions. Yet she has to support two fairies. How harsh for a 15 year
old―.
Awawawawa. This is bad!
I submitted a plot that starts a year later where I'm not sure how but she
somehow survived to that point. But cheating like that shouldn't be allowed. I
resolved myself that I can't rush off here.
That said, this story takes place almost two months after the end of the previous
work. 
Sugar Apple Fairy Tale Vol. 2 - Ginzatoushi to Ao no Koushaku.
   
   
Also, I wrote a short Sugar Apple story for ”The Beans VOL.15" a little before
this book should be released. It takes place three days after the end of the
previous work. In this book, the Silver-Sugar Master Onii-San that gave Ann
the cape she's wearing makes an appearance. A small Mythrill-sized fairy also
appears. And, what. It includes a four panel Manga drawn by Aki-Sama and a
color pin up of Shall. It's extravagant. It's miraculous. So please buy it.
This time, too, I really caused Manager-Sama a lot of trouble. Still, I'm forever
grateful for their always bright and comfortable contact. Please continue to take
care of me.
And Aki-Sama. The Ann Aki-Sama draws makes my chest tighten and Shall
makes me dizzy. Mythrill makes me want to keep him in my pocket. Thank you
very much. I feel incredibly fortunate to have your art.
I also received lots of letters. The encouraging words and impressions all made
me really happy. So, I wish from the bottom of my heart that you could enjoy
reading this book.
It's because of the readers that I could write a sequel. I'm very deeply grateful
to everyone.
Well then, I'll be happy to see you again.
―Mikawa Miri
Sugar Apple Fairy Tale Vol. 2 - Ginzatoushi to Ao no Koushaku.
   
   
Translation Notes:
*The original text here really sounds like he's describing a bunny or something...