Chapter 10: The Wicked Wife’s Magic (Chime!)

Behind the Licorice Diner is a small garden.

A magnificent sweet olive tree casts cool shade in summer and carries a sweet fragrance in autumn.
Beside it, hydrangeas are planted, blooming with fresh blue and pink flowers in early summer.
One corner of the garden is a small herb patch where Hannah grows herbs for daily cooking.
The open space is used to hang laundry and also serves as Lowell’s playground.

It’s small, but it’s a lovely garden—an indispensable part of our lives.

On the diner’s day off, Lowell and I were together in that back garden.
I stood with my feet about shoulder-width apart and firmly planted them on the ground.
Holding both hands out in front of my chest, I shaped them as if I were holding a ball.

“Alright, let’s start.”

“Yeah!”

Lowell stood in front of me, looking up with eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Feeling his gaze, I focused my awareness inward.

“Inside the body of someone who can use magic, mana is always flowing.
First, try to feel that flow…”

As I repeated deep breaths, I concentrated on the flow of mana circulating through my body like blood.

“Gather the mana riiight into the palms of your hands… and release it!”

The moment I said that, a small flame popped into existence between my hands.
Lowell let out a delighted cheer.

Heheh, but this wasn’t the end yet.

“Watch closely…”

Staring intently at the small flame I’d created, I sharpened the image in my mind.
As I quietly exhaled and moved my hands, the flame wavered greatly.
In the blink of an eye, it changed shape into a butterfly and slowly fluttered upward.
After flapping its wings three times, it scattered fiery scales and vanished with a soft poof.

“Mama, amazing!
Amaaaazing!”

Lowell bounced up and down in pure delight.

“Mufufuun.
It’s not that big a deal~”

In truth, it really wasn’t an impressive spell, but being praised so wholeheartedly by my adorable son made me puff up with pride.

The reason I was showing off fire magic to Lowell went back a few days.

Ever since hearing about his father from me, Lowell had started saying, “Rowan’s gonna be strong!”
What I’d said—“Rowan’s papa is really strong”—must have stuck with him deeply.
It seemed he wanted to be “the same as Papa.”
He was too earnest—it almost made me cry.

But even if he wanted to be strong, Lowell was still only two years old.
Sword training or muscle workouts were obviously far too early.
Rather, I thought what mattered most right now was sleeping well, eating well, and playing well.
When I explained that, Lowell agreed with a cheerful, “Got it!”

That said, he already slept, ate, and played just fine.
Since he was so motivated, I wanted to do something special for him.

That was when I thought of magic lessons.
When I asked him, his eyes lit up and he said, “Rowan wants to try magic too!”
So I promised we’d have a magic lesson on the next day off.

And that day was today.

Magic exists in this world, but not everyone can use it.
In fact, most people can’t.

Those who can use magic are mainly royalty, nobles, and a very small number of commoners.
Most commoners can’t use magic at all, or can only use weak magic.
Because of that, society basically runs on the assumption that magic doesn’t exist, and being unable to use magic doesn’t cause problems in everyday life.

Neither Dan nor Hannah can use magic, and the Licorice Diner operates just fine without it.

That said, being able to use magic is undeniably convenient.

…Or rather, having lived a life surrounded by electrical appliances, I found life without electricity, gas, or running water quite inconvenient.

So I experimented to see whether I could use fire magic as a substitute for modern appliances.
And that’s when I realized something.

The pathetic fire magic I’d been called useless for back at the royal palace was actually pretty useful in a diner!

For example, the flames I can produce are small—about the size of a candle flame—but they’re more than sufficient to light a stove or oven.
…Well, yes, if someone says, “You could just use matches,” I can’t really argue with that.

But that’s not all.
My fire magic is useful in other ways too!

The flames I can produce are small and weak, but I’m actually quite good at temperature control.
More specifically, heating.
Unfortunately, I can’t do the opposite.

For instance, when boiling water in a kettle or pot, using my fire magic shortens the time considerably.
You could say it’s like a T-fal kettle.
It seems modest, but it’s extremely helpful when you’re in a hurry.

What Dan and Hannah appreciate most is when I use it to reheat ingredients or dishes.
When something needs to be heated quickly, or when food has gone cold, I use my magic.
Yes—basically, I can do microwave-like things with my magic!

When I jokingly said “Chime!” after reheating something, I realized, “Oh, this is basically a microwave,” and before I knew it, Dan and Hannah had started calling my heating spell “the chime magic.”
Now they even ask things like, “Rosie, could you chime this potato for me?” and have me help with prep.

That said, Dan generally doesn’t use my magic for dishes served to customers.
Relying on magic could cause problems in an emergency, he says.
It’s a very professional mindset—so like Dan.

Besides, Dan’s curry, simmered slowly and carefully, tastes better than curry I finish quickly with magic.
At least, that’s how it feels.

So my magic microwave is strictly an emergency aid—but in emergencies, it’s incredibly useful.
For staff meals, though, I use it freely without holding back.

Hannah especially loves the spell that turns dishwashing water into lukewarm water.
It makes grime easier to remove, and washing dishes in cold water during winter is brutal, after all.

Unrelated to the diner, but with fire magic I can heat bathwater instantly and even dry my hair like a hair dryer.
Thanks to fire magic, my quality of life has skyrocketed.

I really think fire magic isn’t useless at all.
But nobles value raw magical power, so someone at my level probably isn’t considered impressive.
And among royalty, holy magic is treated as the only kind that truly matters.

Even so, I’m honestly glad I have fire magic.
Thanks to it, I’m thoroughly enjoying my comfortable slow life on the frontier.