CYSWFT - Chapter 11 < Back to the beginning >

“Is there a time limit? Or forever...?”

“Time limit.”

“Uh... if I answer wrong, in case Your Highness...”

“Not at all.”

His Highness Grayon shook his head firmly, saying that there would be no disadvantage.

Somehow it didn’t seem like a lie, so I stammered with a feeling of despair.

“As I said earlier, I think Zebron Beach is really beautiful. How about inviting the other person here? It will take time to go back and forth, and anyone who sees this beach will want to sit down, so it will take even more time...”

His Highness’s brow furrowed slightly, and Prince Kamydel’s eyes widened slightly. I didn’t know what each of them was reacting to, and I didn’t want to know.

I didn’t want to ask questions without telling them the whole story, and I was even more scared of them telling me the story.

Why on earth is His Highness the Second Prince, the victorious commander, lying in a state of worry at the end of the earth... like this?

His Highness Grayon answered.

“Yes. I also like Zebron Beach. We have something in common in that regard.”

When I answered with an awkward laugh, His Highness smiled faintly and said,

“You’ve entered the Academy this time, right? Locard here is top of the class. It wouldn’t hurt to show it off.”

Aaaah! The Academy! I think I should put a sign on my clothes that says I’m an illegitimate child who has never been near the Academy.

I didn’t even care that Prince Kydel looked displeased when the Academy was mentioned.

I mustered up all my remaining patience and answered politely, saying that it was my sin that I looked too much like the Count.

“You seem to have mistaken me for Lady Misha, the legitimate daughter of the Loire family.”

There was a brief silence at my answer. No one seemed to understand, so I just kept going.

“I’m an illegitimate child, Your Highness.”

“I see. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Thank you.”

I’ll pickle these fingertips and eat them.

Why on earth should I be grateful for that?

But that was the extent of the vocabulary available to the imperial family. It's “imperial gong” or “imperial song” or something like that.

The fact that my vocabulary was extremely limited spoke of the difference in power. I felt it more keenly when I spoke to them directly.

“It was a pleasant conversation, Loire.”

“May I leave now?”

“With pleasure.”

“Eternal glory to Tagar.”

I politely left the room. And as soon as I closed the door, I ran to my room without looking back.

***

When the sound of Lorisha’s running footsteps grew distant, Locard’s stiff face cleared and he burst into laughter.

“Hahaha! Your Highness, isn’t she really funny?”

“Hmm.”

Grayon’s face turned sour, so Locard quickly straightened his expression and said.

“Isn’t that a good idea? How about having His Highness the first Prince come here to visit?”

Grayon served as an advisor as the commander who participated in the war when the two messengers discussed the post-war compensation plan considering the interests of each faction. That was why the meeting was held in Zebron, where he was recuperating.

It would have been best for Grayon, who led the army on behalf of the Emperor, to announce the compensation plan himself, but now that the Empress was involved, it was difficult to be greedy.

It was best to simply prevent the fruits of the war from being announced by Prince Orl.

“Your Highness, His Highness the Firsts Prince will come. It will be difficult to realize.”

“‘Your Highness was wounded in the war that secured the Empire’s iron ore, but Your Highness the First Prince, has never publicly expressed his congratulations. Isn’t this a sign of internal conflict within the Imperial Family?’ How about the topic of Targan’s commentary?”

Grayon finally snickered.

“A devil.”

Locard pondered happily.

“Should we make her take the Academy entrance exam next year? Would it be better to bring her straight to the palace, Your Highness?”

But Grayon remained silent. When Locard met his gaze, he said.

“You heard.”

Locard’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Because she’s an illegitimate child?”

Grayon said as he leisurely walked back to his room.

“I admit she’s a useful child, but I don’t want her to have weaknesses around me, Locard. Since he’s already entered the academy, why don’t you pick him up there? Someone flawless and capable.”

When he returned from the Amata War, all of the few people on the Second Prince’s side in the palace had been replaced. It was the Empress’s influence.

Locard accepted this as an opportunity to find new talent, but the Second Prince’s standards were more stringent than expected.

In the duel that was about to begin, Grayon Tagar needed someone to take care of his back. It would be better to cut off the person who would fall down first.

Locard did not think that his thoughts were wrong. But he did not agree with them either. It was not too late to examine this interesting new object sufficiently and refute it.

Things went as they had expected.

The next day, when the famous daily newspaper Targan of the capital published Locard’s commentary on the gist of what he had said, the First Prince immediately set off for Zebron.

The next day’s newspaper reported that the First Prince Orl had left for the place where the Second Prince was recuperating to visit him.

It was after the First Prince left the capital that the Duke of Kydel arrived at the palace with the final plan for the post-war compensation.

Thus, the plan for the post-war compensation was announced by the Emperor. It was a content that everyone was satisfied with.

***

Looking back from the beginning, I did not dislike the smell of herbs. It was the smell that always came from our cabin, the smell that faintly permeated my mother’s hair.

I had been showing up at the downtown apothecary once every three days, but I was slowly reducing the interval.

The apothecary clerks worried that I might take their jobs, began to show their wariness, but I shamelessly pushed my butt in while bribing them with food.

Of course, the old man liked it.

When I came back after spending a day there, my clothes smelled of herbs and medicinal materials. I felt at ease when I smelled them.

I planned to pretend to give in if the old man asked me to work for him again.

When I returned to the Count’s residence, I devoured books on herbalism and botany. I had become so obsessed with studying over the past few years that studying this much was not even funny.

After Misha entered the academy, the mansion became quiet, so it was the best environment for me.

When the bribes I had given to the apothecary clerks started to wear off, I was able to use what I had learned appropriately and pretend to know something.

The knowledge of medicinal herbs was directly connected to sales as well as smooth communication with customers, so they seemed to be giving up on it.

Seeing that, I thought that maybe I should have gone this way a long time ago.

One afternoon, a man wearing a pale robe came into the store.

The old and faded robe had a nondescript appearance, but I could tell that it was made of high-quality fabric, except that it was worn out from frequent washing.

He looked around the store and asked in a small, quiet voice.

“Do you carry mandariosa and cattail?”

“Manda... there's no such thing?”

When a clerk who happened to be passing by the entrance answered, he quietly turned around.

Those two plants were not commonly used herbs. There was only one type of person who wanted those herbs. Alchemists. Who would have thought someone looking for something I had read in a book yesterday would show up right away?

I quickly approached him and said,

“I need to check if we can get the alchemy material plants. That’s up to the owner.”

“Ah.”

“Would you mind waiting a moment while I serve you a cup of tea?”

He followed me into the store with a surprised expression on his face.

It was a plant that most herbal medicine shops wouldn’t even know the name of, but since I pretended to know that it was an alchemy ingredient, he believed me.

“How about some pea tea?”

“Good. Thank you.”

I smiled broadly, served the tea, and ran to the inner room.

I felt a pleasant excitement that I hadn’t felt in a long time, thinking that maybe this was it.

Alchemists were a rare profession that made me wonder if they really existed. Since the ingredients they used were special, they could make a lot of money if they made a deal. I wondered if this was my chance to open up my own market.

I explained to the old man who owned the herbal medicine shop about his order and asked if I could get it for him.

I told him that alchemists were the only profession that spent money like water despite being poor and that there would be plenty of profit.

After listening to what I had to say, the old man frowned and asked again,

“Is this a business?”

I realized that he was asking if it was worth the effort, not the profit.

Considering the distribution channel and the collector commission, the initial cost is quite high.

Even if the burden is relatively small, if the remaining profit is small, regardless of the deficit, this business should be abandoned. That time and effort should be put toward a more profitable area.

There is no way to know the results of something I have not tried. However, if I do not try, I will never know.

I made a solemn expression and nodded vigorously.

“It’s okay, Grandpa. It’s alchemy, I said.”

It was as if I were going to create gold.

Grandpa grumbled something and called an old clerk and told him to contact someone. He said that he would get me what I asked.

The power of the distribution network he had built his whole life was that great.

I returned to the customer and said happily,

“This is our first time handling it, so please give us at least five days. Of course, we will deliver it as soon as we get it within that time. Is that okay?”

He smiled as if satisfied.

“Yes. I’ll wait.”

The delivery address he wrote down after paying the deposit was an unexpected place.

When I widened my eyes at that, he laughed silently and turned around to disappear.

It was the first time I saw someone move without making a sound. I thought that such an absurd job or such a strange thing was somehow cool.

However, when I looked down at the words in the notebook again, I thought I had dug my own grave again.

“Ahhh...”

“In front of the Third Palace Pharmacy, Wheenid Royman.”

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