"What's four times seven?"
In a random little flour-making hut in the village, Laurent watched in amusement as the girl in front of him counted clumsily on her fingers.
Clearly, her math was hopeless.
Laurent suddenly thought back to the advanced mathematics he'd studied in university. If he tried teaching Jeanne any of that, it'd probably sound like some incomprehensible fairy tale. Not to mention physics or chemistry.
He'd been busy these days, so this rare moment of relaxation was precious. Playing teacher to Jeanne was a rather enjoyable pastime.
Now it was nearly February, and the weather was gradually warming. Laurent knew very well that once spring arrived, his miserable life as a farmer would start again.
Working from dawn till dusk wasn't terrible—just exhausting.
"Twenty-eight?"
After an eternity, Jeanne finally answered uncertainly.
This girl's illiteracy really was no joke. Honestly, Laurent suspected she never had any academic talent to begin with.
She was probably only suited for farm work or housewife duties.
Now that he thought about it, marrying this sweet but clueless village girl wouldn't be a bad deal, especially out here in the middle of nowhere.
In fact, Europeans of the fifteenth century married quite early, didn't they? Girls around fifteen or sixteen were already discussing marriage.
Instead of setting off to save France at sixteen, Jeanne could set off down the path of marriage instead.
Hm, that actually sounds pretty good.
Laurent stroked his chin thoughtfully, his eyes openly appraising Jeanne. She quickly noticed his strange gaze.
"Laurent, can you not look at me with those weird eyes?"
"What's wrong?"
"It… it makes me feel uncomfortable."
Maybe his gaze was a bit too brazen.
"I was just curious why you're suddenly developing so fast."
Jeanne didn't immediately catch on to his teasing, but soon realized and puffed up indignantly.
"I'll grow up sooner or later!"
"Alright, enough nonsense. Hurry up and finish studying. And don't forget my shoulder massage tonight—I'm almost dead from exhaustion."
"Mm."
The warmth of their daily life continued on like this, filled with small moments of tenderness.
Together, they awaited news from the merchant party.
Though honestly, the most anxious of all was Laurent himself.
He always had this uneasy feeling, as if Jeanne might vanish from his side at any moment.
Only a few days later, Laurent's exhausting life as a farmer returned.
Making money was one thing, but wheat still needed planting, crops still needed tending.
Why exactly was he here, suffering like this? Wouldn't dying peacefully have been better?
"Laurent, you're slacking off again!"
Lying lazily atop a haystack, Laurent smiled faintly as he heard Jeanne's voice approaching in a jog.
"Come on, with weather this nice, isn't resting the best choice?"
"Papa asked you to push the cart over, but instead you're lying here sleeping! He's waiting for you right now!"
Jeanne clearly wasn't pleased. She reached out, trying to climb onto the haystack to get him down.
"If you don't hurry, he'll get angry!"
"Since when did you start nagging endlessly, like Uncle Norse's wife?"
Annoyed by her constant scolding, Laurent sat up and pulled Jeanne close to him.
"Here, lie down and try it yourself. It's really comfortable."
Gently tugging, Laurent wanted her to join him in his laziness, though it clearly wasn't going to happen.
"W-wife?!" Jeanne stammered, her face flushing with embarrassment. She struggled to find an insult but finally just raised her voice slightly,
"Uncle Norse will definitely beat you up if he hears that! And your comparisons are always so weird."
"Isn't it true? Recently, you've been watching me work nonstop. You were always a bit like this before, but lately you've gotten even stricter—exactly like one of those nagging wives."
"That's because you keep slacking off!"
"Oh my god, Jeanne! Don't you think sunny days like this are made for basking in the sun?"
"We can do that after finishing work."
"But by then, such great weather might be gone."
"We—we can always come back tomorrow…"
Laurent gave her a sideways glance, not bothering to argue further.
"I still think you should just enjoy it with me right now."
"But Papa's still waiting for the cart."
"Stop being so rigid, my dear Jeanne. Humans invented carts precisely because we're lazy. Who knows, maybe I'll also invent something interesting because of my laziness."
"Like what?" Jeanne asked curiously.
Laurent's lips twitched.
It was just an example—I wasn't serious!
"Music?"
Laurent casually gave an example, then started humming a tune in French from songs he remembered.
Perhaps due to the differences in eras, these catchy melodies hadn't yet appeared.
But Jeanne listened earnestly, entranced.
"It sounds lovely."
"Haha, it's just something I borrowed—songs I heard in the past."
Laurent shrugged it off, uninterested in developing music seriously. Humming occasionally was fine.
Speaking of Jeanne, though, her figure really was developing rapidly lately.
He glanced sideways at her. Jeanne really was turning into quite the lady.
Such a pity she didn't have any nice clothes—just worn rags that she wore until they were threadbare, then replaced with something similar.
Actually, Laurent suddenly realized Jeanne had excellent potential as a wife.
Though illiterate, she was great at taking care of others, farmwork, and had even learned cooking from him recently.
"Laurent, the group we sent out hasn't returned yet, and we still don't know how things will go. Everyone in the village is waiting hopefully—we can't slack off right now."
Laurent patted Jeanne's shoulder reassuringly.
"I know you're worried about failure. Don't worry—I still have other ideas. Even if this plan fails, I'll just find another, and another, until something finally works."
Hearing this, Jeanne relaxed, her smile returning.
"Is there anything I can help with?"
"Just keep giving me massages each night, cook for me, and handle chores. That's enough."
He thought to himself, this silly girl doesn't understand anyway. Better have her practice early the duties she'll need as my future wife, and then everything will fall into place nicely.
He remembered clearly that in fifteenth-century Europe, women's status was extremely low. Girls around fifteen often married young, with parents eagerly sending daughters off to good households.
Come to think of it… if he really intended to marry her, would he need to formally ask Uncle Jacques?
Right. I'll go ask him tonight.
He'd worked hard for Jacques all these years, after all, and recently even helped save the village. It wouldn't be unreasonable to ask him to give his daughter away, would it?
This French saintess really was too damn charming.
Poor Jeanne had absolutely no idea that Laurent had already set his sights on her.
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T/N: they grow up so fast...?