Chapter 73

The Failure Alchemist of the Royal Capital

Let’s make safe Oshiroi (White Powder) [ 1 ] #

“So, we’ve been tasked with making a safe white powder,” I said with a sigh as I returned to the atelier with Marcus and Mina for dinner after receiving the request from His Majesty.

" ‘Oshiroi’?" Marcus and Mina both tilted their heads in confusion, unaware of what it was. So I explained simply, “It’s a kind of pigment used to make the face look paler.”

“…So they want their skin to be even whiter. Noblewomen have it tough,” Mina commented while taking a bite of the potato gratin, the main dish for today.

Yeah, it’s unnecessary for Mina, with her fair, pink cheeks. I had been told by my older sister that I needed it, but I still think it’s unnecessary for me.

“So basically, we need to make a white pigment that blends well with the skin,” Marcus asked, hitting the nail on the head.

“That’s right. It shouldn’t be too stark white, but should have a moderate transparency, and should effectively cover up skin blemishes,” I replied based on my impression of my mother and sister’s makeup.

“Come to think of it, is it a bad idea to use potato powder? It’s too simple and common, but since it’s food, we can be sure it’s safe to use, right?” Mina looked down at the fork with a piece of potato gratinon it and murmured.

“Potato powder?” I tilted my head in confusion, not being very knowledgeable about cooking.

“When you peel and cut a potato, there’s a very fine white powder that sticks to the surface, so you rinse it off with water. I thought if we grated it, we could get even more of this powder,” Mina explained her idea.

“Let’s try making it,” I suggested, intrigued by the idea of using something we were familiar with as a food ingredient to make cosmetics.

◆

We prepared three potatoes.

“First, let’s peel and grate them,” Mina efficiently processed the potatoes, and the grated potatoes quickly piled up in the bowl.

“The fibers from the grated potatoes are getting in the way,” I remarked. Indeed, the grated potatoes contained fibers, water, and the white powder Mina had mentioned. We only wanted the white powder.

“Let’s squeeze it with a coarse cloth,” Mina suggested. She asked Marcus to bring another bowl and a cloth, and placed the cloth over the new bowl. Then she emptied the contents of the original bowl onto the cloth, trapping the grated potatoes inside and tying it tightly with twine.

As we squeezed it, water and white powder came out through the cloth.

“But this is still too little,” I said.

“Then maybe we should knead it and soak it in water. There might still be some potato powder mixed in with the grated potatoes inside the cloth,” Marcus suggested.

Mina added water to a bowl and kneaded and shook it for a while until the water turned white and cloudy, revealing that there was still some “white powder” in the cloth. She continued working until the white cloudiness subsided.

What remained was reddish-brown water and the white powder that had settled at the bottom. Mina carefully poured off the water on top. As a precaution, she added more water and poured off the clear water again, leaving behind the damp “white powder.”

“Let’s just let it air dry until tomorrow…,” I suggested.

“Why don’t we heat it up to evaporate the moisture?” Mina interrupted.

I took Mina’s moist “white powder” and poured it into a frying pan to heat it up. I wanted to see the finished product as soon as possible.

“Look! It’s turning a clear white color!” I said, satisfied with my idea.

“Hmm? There’s a part that won’t lose its moisture no matter how long we heat it,” Marcus said, peering into the pan with a puzzled look.

“Stop the heat,” I said, using a spatula to poke the mixture of the “original white powder + water” over the fire. Then, a jiggly, jelly-like substance mixed with powder emerged.

…I felt a sense of anger behind me.

“Daisy-samaaaaa!” Mina cried out, snatching the jiggly substance that had clung to the spatula. Her hand was trembling with anger, and the jiggly substance was also shaking through the spatula.

“P-please don’t do anything unnecessary until I say it’s okay?” Mina asked, looking up at me with teary eyes.

“I won’t, I won’t! I’m sorry, Mina, please don’t cry!” I said, taking out a handkerchief from my pocket to wipe away Mina’s tears and runny nose.

“…Can you please not do anything unnecessary until I say it’s okay?” Mina asked, looking up at me with a pleading expression.

“I won’t, I won’t! So… can you make the powder again?” I pleaded, clasping my hands together and bowing.

“…Okay, I guess,” Mina said with a gentle smile, starting over with the “white powder” making process.

Afterwards, the damp “white powder” was spread out on a tray to air dry overnight.

The next day, the finished product looked like this:

Mina dipped her fingertip into the powder and applied it to the back of her hand.

“It does make it white,” she said. “But…there’s something different about it. The whiteness is lacking in some way, and there’s too much transparency, I think.”