Who do you take after?, Lorentz thought as he looked at his emptied bowl of stew.

He didn't want to admit it, but it was delicious.

He never would have thought that he would see the day when he would end up praising his son's cooking, but it was much better than anything served in other bars in the area.

However, there was something on his mind, kind of like the soot left in a kiln after use.

When he looked out the window, he saw that the snow had unfortunately turned into rain. He didn't like rain on nights this dark.

He dropped his wooden spoon into the bowl and leaned back in his chair. He felt full, but he didn't feel any sign of drowsiness.

Lorentz lived with his two sons in a small, three-story house near Craftsmen Street.

He thought it a strange twist of fate that he had ended up settling down in Aitheria, his hometown, after having been to various countries as a travelling gla.s.s smith.

He hadn't expected that his skills would end up earning him the honorable position of Guild Master of the Gla.s.s Smith Guild.

It was thanks to his position that he was able to raise his two sons into adulthood smoothly.

Hugo, his eldest son, was apprenticed to Lorentz. As long as Hugo practiced diligently, he would become a fine gla.s.s smith. Lorentz would have no worries about leaving the workshop to Hugo once he himself retired.

However, it was his younger son that worried Lorentz.

He had said that he wanted to be a chef.

A few days after that, he quit his job and went to work at a bar.

Who do you take after?

Lorentz wondered again.

He didn't have to think too much; Hans took after Lorentz.

He had wanted Hans to succeed him in the gla.s.s smithing business. Hugo had some talent, but that was it. He would grow to become a good craftsman, but never a great craftsman.

As he was now, Hugo wouldn't be able to break out of his sh.e.l.l and improve himself.

Hans, on the other hand, was different.

Hans intuitively knew that he should be competing with other craftsmen. He hated losing to other people, and he felt that accepting defeat was a sign of cowardice.

Lorentz had also been opposed to Hans becoming a guard.

It wasn't because he didn't think it suited Hans, but because, as his father, Lorentz knew that there was something better for him. If he became a gla.s.s smith, he could become a master craftsman who surpa.s.sed Lorentz. He sincerely believed that Hans' talent would be wasted as a guard.

Hans, not Hugo, was the one who had inherited Lorentz's dexterity and sense of colour.

Still, that was beside the point. The reason he had opposed Hans becoming a chef was because it would mean that he had wasted his time working as a guard, and would have to start over. "Why a chef?" had not been the question running through his head, but "Why not a gla.s.s smith?". That was what had made him angry. He had thought that it was foolish, and that was why he had believed that he had to put a stop to it.

Hugo poured lukewarm into a thick gla.s.s.

Lorentz was about to thank Hugo, but stopped and covered it up by clearing his throat. He loved both his sons, but he was more worried about Hans at the moment.

(ED: For clarification, the water was boiled and left to cool down. Lukewarm was the closest thing I could come up with.)

「Hans's stew was delicious, wasn't it.」

「It was alright.」

「You even had a second helping. That's not just “alright”, is it?」

「…That's just because I was hungry.」

Hugo snorted with a shrug, and began putting away the dishes.

Hans had holed up in his room after returning. Lorentz didn't remember speaking with him directly.

He brought his gla.s.s to his mouth while looking apologetically at Hugo's back.

The gla.s.s was Hugo's handiwork. It was made of thick gla.s.s, but the rim of the gla.s.s was thinner. Lorentz had taught him that this design made the drink taste better.

It was unexpectedly well-made, but Lorentz had decided that it was not good enough to be sold, so Hugo had brought it home that morning. However, Lorentz couldn't remember exactly why he had rejected it in the first place.

He heard the sound of dishes being washed with water drawn from the well. The water was freezing cold at this time of year.

「You've improved…」

「You're right. He's improved so much so quickly. Should we start visiting n.o.bu again?」

「I was talking about the gla.s.s you made.」

The sounds of Hugo was.h.i.+ng the dishes stopped.

There was only the sound of the heavy rain hitting the window.

After a long silence, the dishwas.h.i.+ng sounds resumed, but Hugo remained silent.

「Hey, Hugo. Wanna go tomorrow?」

「By go, did you mean go to Izakaya n.o.bu, Master?」

「It's okay to call me Dad at home…」

He reconsidered letting Hans call him Dad. Hugo's back seemed to tremble slightly.