Most people don't remember the day they died. But if they could, that memory would be the most vivid of all.
That day, the day Ariadne died, was before the early winter chill had even begun to fade. The chill that had crept up the stone walls of the western tower where she had been imprisoned still chilled her bones.
It's 1127 this year, and we're currently in the midst of New Year's celebrations. In just a few days, it will be 1128.
Ariadne declared in as calm a tone as possible, as she had given up.
“There are exactly 10 years left.”
To be exact, it was 10 years and a couple of months.
Even as the second hand ticked away like this, Ariadne didn't even know what the 'mission' she had been given by the 'Awakened Ones' was.
Even if she didn't know what it was, it wouldn't have been an easy task. It's impossible to achieve something without even a set goal. Failing that mission would be doomed anyway.
“I just think that day is the day my life will end.”
“Ari!”
The old shaman shouted in agitation, but she was at a loss for words.
Ariadne swallowed the words she had been thinking about at her grandmother's old age.
The New Year of 1137 is the date on which she departed this world.
'And I will not die in San Carlo.'
The teachings of the Yesak, which she's studied her entire life, say that those who take their own lives cannot reincarnate. But since the "awakened ones" will take their souls, reincarnation is out of the question anyway. Therefore, that teaching is irrelevant.
Once she got out of that one big gold mine, new horizons opened up.
That she decides her own end.
If you can set the time, you can also set the method and place.
Although she hadn't yet decided on a specific method, she was certain of this: San Carlo wouldn't be the place where she would die.
It was unknown what misfortune would befall those she loved if the 'one who was judged' took her own life and offered her soul to the 'awakened ones'.
'It's not like you don't have someone you love.'
She planned to leave everything clean. She intended to leave behind no blood relatives, and to burn away the memories of Alfonso, Sancha, the old priestess, and her grandson, and anything that remained of her affection.
'Can I break this heart of mine?'
Could I hate Alfonso? Could I resent Sancha? Could I forget the friendship shared by Julia and Raphael, the faith shown by CEO Caruso, the loyalty shown by Camelia?
'You can. You must.'
She was able to do it because she had to.
The only good thing Ariadne had was that she had to do something because she had to, and that she was dull, oblivious, and neither pretty nor kind.
She will leave without leaving behind even a single blade of grass that she loves.
"So, there's nothing I can do about Leadful. Grandma. Please understand."
“...”
The old Moorish woman remained silent for a long time, then blurted out:
“...You, be careful with your dosage.”
How could she forget the person who worried about her so much? A sad smile appeared on Ariadne's lips.
“What if I take too much?”
“Take care of yourself, you pathetic thing!”
What the old shaman really wanted to say was "poor thing," but she swallowed the word. If she let it out, she felt like she'd grab the little one and burst into tears. Instead, she scolded him sternly.
“Do you know what the side effects of lead grass are?”
“Permanent infertility.”
“It’s only when overdosing is appropriate!”
"Overdose" and "moderate" were extremely awkward words to put in the same sentence, but they were familiar to the grandmother. The shaman came from a land where the concubine system was formally established and succession struggles were rampant.
“It actually happened.”
She opened her mouth.
“When I was young, His Majesty had a young concubine. As soon as she entered the Khan's patronage, she became the center of his favor.”
“Oh, she must have had a hard time.”
"Of course. But that girl who couldn't control her bowels had a lover back home. That child, not wanting to have a child with an emperor she didn't love, drank a contraceptive pill."
Although she wasn't taking the contraceptive pill because she didn't love Alfonso, Ariadne decided to just listen quietly. If she stopped talking here, the story would only get longer.
“But there was another person who hoped that the concubine would not become pregnant.”
“The legitimate wife...?”
"That's a good guess. But use your imagination a little more."
At the time, the Empress of Balasa Ordo had no children of her own. She had personally brought in a young concubine, hoping that this young concubine, from the same tribe, would bear the emperor's heir in her stead.
Within the Khan's patronage, over thirty women were vying for the Emperor's favor. But the one who most disliked the conception of a new concubine was the eldest concubine, a concubine of rank just below the Empress. She regularly added contraceptives to the concubines' drinks.
“...I don’t even want to imagine that there are thirty royal ladies.”
It must have been a complex mix of cooperation and hostility. Ariadne's dealings with Rubina and Isabella alone were enough to give her a headache at times, given the sheer number of scenarios.
“How did you find out which of the thirty people used the poison?”
There were thirty potential enemies, and it was brave to figure out who used the poison.
“I will do whatever is necessary.”
Ariadne smiled. That was true.
“So she ate two servings of contraceptive soup?”
“Listen further. There was someone else who tampered with the young concubine’s meal.”
“Another concubine?”
The shaman grandmother chuckled.
“The third person to touch her meal was the Emperor.”
"Yes?"
The Emperor, who favored her more than anyone else. With his own hands.
The imperial throne of Balasa Ordo was not established by primogeniture, but by a winner-take-all system. The Khan of the time, aided by the military might of his wife's family, defeated his brothers and ascended to the throne.
Having executed all his half-brothers with the cavalry led by his brothers-in-law, the Khan was lost in thought. Now he wanted to get rid of his brothers-in-law.
"He wanted to establish the eldest son born to the Empress as Crown Prince. To do that, he couldn't have a successor from his concubine clan."
“No way...?”
"Yes. The new concubine's meal included three servings of contraceptive pills. What were the side effects of overdosing on contraceptive pills?"
“Infertility...”
"That's when you eat in moderation. Imagine eating more than three times the recommended amount."
Even if the Emperor were not concerned, the concubine would have been of little interest in the health of the young concubine. She would have wanted a more tangible result.
“She started having irregular bleeding, and blue veins started appearing on her legs.”
A cold sweat ran down Ariadne's back. Wasn't this the hardship and suffering she was inflicting on herself before the "Day of Judgment"?
“One day, she clutched her chest and complained of pain, then suddenly collapsed and died. She wasn’t even twenty years old!”
“...Ah.”
Death was something she would gladly desire, but not yet.
She would do whatever it took to ensure Prince Alfonso's coronation before 1137. Until then, she could not allow any decline in her health or power. Only after placing the crown in his hands could she leave the stage.
"Don't be so confident that you think you're in control of everything right now. You never know when someone might be targeting you."
“...I know what you mean. I’ll be twice, three times more careful.”
The old priestess couldn't get Ariadne to promise to cut off the lead grass, but she was content with this. That stubborn, iron-willed woman was saying she understood what she was saying.
Now, she got down to the real business of the day and began preparing the secret technique to conceal her scar. She ground talc, drew the four corners of the prayer wheel, and carefully poured the incense into the four corners as an offering to the local gods.
The old priestess was about to begin a prayer, stroking Ariadne's arm, when she caught sight of something she hadn't noticed when examining her arm a moment ago.
“Here, this. Has this been there before?”
The old woman pointed at the new red dot on Ariadne's left arm near her shoulder.
Ariadne slowly turned her head and looked into the mirror her grandmother had provided. It was something new to her, a new measure of sin. Ariadne frowned.
“No. This is my first time seeing it.”
Ariadne was obsessively concerned with the extent of the red scars on her arms, fearing they might be seen by others.
Although it wasn't where her eyes usually met, Ariadne meticulously examined every inch of her skin with two mirrors.
“It definitely wasn’t there until two weeks ago when I was fitting a winter dress.”
Since the bloody spot rose to her shoulder, Ariadne had never chosen a dress that revealed too much of her upper body.
“What have you done since then?”
In fact, these red marks appeared without any action. After the Black Death spread to the Kingdom of Gallico and the northern part of the Central Continent, red spots erupted fiercely across Ariadne's entire left arm. They resembled hives. This happened while she was lying in bed, doing nothing, and staying home. However, when the Great Black Death ended, even those spots disappeared.
“Nothing new has been promoted in particular.”
She thought for a moment and then said.
“If I had to be specific, I didn’t go down to Taranto, but that was more Alfonso’s decision than mine...”
However, there were also parts where the golden rule was applied mercilessly.
The Golden Rule mercilessly measured and accurately inscribed the karmic consequences of Ariadne's actions. This applied even to unavoidable circumstances, such as a carriage accident resulting in the death of a person while distributing food to the poor.
But the golden rule was that what was inevitable by her very existence was usually not considered her karma.
“Well, I don’t think that’s the case.”
The shaman grandmother slowly studied her precious child from a foreign land, wondering if she would inflict a punishment she didn't need to endure. For a moment, her eyes lit up with a dazzling light.
“...Why, why didn’t I tell you before? You’re a half-regressor.”
Ariadne didn't fully grasp the concept, but she nodded, knowing it was true. A discipline built on a foundation of accumulated knowledge over many years is incredibly difficult to understand without mastering the fundamentals. This applies even to the most astute of minds.
"Do you remember what I told you earlier? I told you to tell me if you saw anyone suspicious."
“Yes. I remember.”
The shaman had listed some of the traits she might have: a teardrop mole under one eye, like hers, or a halo on his hand, or, conversely, a bloodshot scar.
But she never found it. She not only searched for it herself, but also alerted Giuseppe and other members of the de Mare family outside the family, but none of them achieved any significant results.
“...In my opinion, this new point came up because of what that guy did.”
That day, the day Ariadne died, was before the early winter chill had even begun to fade. The chill that had crept up the stone walls of the western tower where she had been imprisoned still chilled her bones.
It's 1127 this year, and we're currently in the midst of New Year's celebrations. In just a few days, it will be 1128.
Ariadne declared in as calm a tone as possible, as she had given up.
“There are exactly 10 years left.”
To be exact, it was 10 years and a couple of months.
Even as the second hand ticked away like this, Ariadne didn't even know what the 'mission' she had been given by the 'Awakened Ones' was.
Even if she didn't know what it was, it wouldn't have been an easy task. It's impossible to achieve something without even a set goal. Failing that mission would be doomed anyway.
“I just think that day is the day my life will end.”
“Ari!”
The old shaman shouted in agitation, but she was at a loss for words.
Ariadne swallowed the words she had been thinking about at her grandmother's old age.
The New Year of 1137 is the date on which she departed this world.
'And I will not die in San Carlo.'
The teachings of the Yesak, which she's studied her entire life, say that those who take their own lives cannot reincarnate. But since the "awakened ones" will take their souls, reincarnation is out of the question anyway. Therefore, that teaching is irrelevant.
Once she got out of that one big gold mine, new horizons opened up.
That she decides her own end.
If you can set the time, you can also set the method and place.
Although she hadn't yet decided on a specific method, she was certain of this: San Carlo wouldn't be the place where she would die.
It was unknown what misfortune would befall those she loved if the 'one who was judged' took her own life and offered her soul to the 'awakened ones'.
'It's not like you don't have someone you love.'
She planned to leave everything clean. She intended to leave behind no blood relatives, and to burn away the memories of Alfonso, Sancha, the old priestess, and her grandson, and anything that remained of her affection.
'Can I break this heart of mine?'
Could I hate Alfonso? Could I resent Sancha? Could I forget the friendship shared by Julia and Raphael, the faith shown by CEO Caruso, the loyalty shown by Camelia?
'You can. You must.'
She was able to do it because she had to.
The only good thing Ariadne had was that she had to do something because she had to, and that she was dull, oblivious, and neither pretty nor kind.
She will leave without leaving behind even a single blade of grass that she loves.
"So, there's nothing I can do about Leadful. Grandma. Please understand."
“...”
The old Moorish woman remained silent for a long time, then blurted out:
“...You, be careful with your dosage.”
How could she forget the person who worried about her so much? A sad smile appeared on Ariadne's lips.
“What if I take too much?”
“Take care of yourself, you pathetic thing!”
What the old shaman really wanted to say was "poor thing," but she swallowed the word. If she let it out, she felt like she'd grab the little one and burst into tears. Instead, she scolded him sternly.
“Do you know what the side effects of lead grass are?”
“Permanent infertility.”
“It’s only when overdosing is appropriate!”
"Overdose" and "moderate" were extremely awkward words to put in the same sentence, but they were familiar to the grandmother. The shaman came from a land where the concubine system was formally established and succession struggles were rampant.
“It actually happened.”
She opened her mouth.
“When I was young, His Majesty had a young concubine. As soon as she entered the Khan's patronage, she became the center of his favor.”
“Oh, she must have had a hard time.”
"Of course. But that girl who couldn't control her bowels had a lover back home. That child, not wanting to have a child with an emperor she didn't love, drank a contraceptive pill."
Although she wasn't taking the contraceptive pill because she didn't love Alfonso, Ariadne decided to just listen quietly. If she stopped talking here, the story would only get longer.
“But there was another person who hoped that the concubine would not become pregnant.”
“The legitimate wife...?”
"That's a good guess. But use your imagination a little more."
At the time, the Empress of Balasa Ordo had no children of her own. She had personally brought in a young concubine, hoping that this young concubine, from the same tribe, would bear the emperor's heir in her stead.
Within the Khan's patronage, over thirty women were vying for the Emperor's favor. But the one who most disliked the conception of a new concubine was the eldest concubine, a concubine of rank just below the Empress. She regularly added contraceptives to the concubines' drinks.
“...I don’t even want to imagine that there are thirty royal ladies.”
It must have been a complex mix of cooperation and hostility. Ariadne's dealings with Rubina and Isabella alone were enough to give her a headache at times, given the sheer number of scenarios.
“How did you find out which of the thirty people used the poison?”
There were thirty potential enemies, and it was brave to figure out who used the poison.
“I will do whatever is necessary.”
Ariadne smiled. That was true.
“So she ate two servings of contraceptive soup?”
“Listen further. There was someone else who tampered with the young concubine’s meal.”
“Another concubine?”
The shaman grandmother chuckled.
“The third person to touch her meal was the Emperor.”
"Yes?"
The Emperor, who favored her more than anyone else. With his own hands.
The imperial throne of Balasa Ordo was not established by primogeniture, but by a winner-take-all system. The Khan of the time, aided by the military might of his wife's family, defeated his brothers and ascended to the throne.
Having executed all his half-brothers with the cavalry led by his brothers-in-law, the Khan was lost in thought. Now he wanted to get rid of his brothers-in-law.
"He wanted to establish the eldest son born to the Empress as Crown Prince. To do that, he couldn't have a successor from his concubine clan."
“No way...?”
"Yes. The new concubine's meal included three servings of contraceptive pills. What were the side effects of overdosing on contraceptive pills?"
“Infertility...”
"That's when you eat in moderation. Imagine eating more than three times the recommended amount."
Even if the Emperor were not concerned, the concubine would have been of little interest in the health of the young concubine. She would have wanted a more tangible result.
“She started having irregular bleeding, and blue veins started appearing on her legs.”
A cold sweat ran down Ariadne's back. Wasn't this the hardship and suffering she was inflicting on herself before the "Day of Judgment"?
“One day, she clutched her chest and complained of pain, then suddenly collapsed and died. She wasn’t even twenty years old!”
“...Ah.”
Death was something she would gladly desire, but not yet.
She would do whatever it took to ensure Prince Alfonso's coronation before 1137. Until then, she could not allow any decline in her health or power. Only after placing the crown in his hands could she leave the stage.
"Don't be so confident that you think you're in control of everything right now. You never know when someone might be targeting you."
“...I know what you mean. I’ll be twice, three times more careful.”
The old priestess couldn't get Ariadne to promise to cut off the lead grass, but she was content with this. That stubborn, iron-willed woman was saying she understood what she was saying.
Now, she got down to the real business of the day and began preparing the secret technique to conceal her scar. She ground talc, drew the four corners of the prayer wheel, and carefully poured the incense into the four corners as an offering to the local gods.
The old priestess was about to begin a prayer, stroking Ariadne's arm, when she caught sight of something she hadn't noticed when examining her arm a moment ago.
“Here, this. Has this been there before?”
The old woman pointed at the new red dot on Ariadne's left arm near her shoulder.
Ariadne slowly turned her head and looked into the mirror her grandmother had provided. It was something new to her, a new measure of sin. Ariadne frowned.
“No. This is my first time seeing it.”
Ariadne was obsessively concerned with the extent of the red scars on her arms, fearing they might be seen by others.
Although it wasn't where her eyes usually met, Ariadne meticulously examined every inch of her skin with two mirrors.
“It definitely wasn’t there until two weeks ago when I was fitting a winter dress.”
Since the bloody spot rose to her shoulder, Ariadne had never chosen a dress that revealed too much of her upper body.
“What have you done since then?”
In fact, these red marks appeared without any action. After the Black Death spread to the Kingdom of Gallico and the northern part of the Central Continent, red spots erupted fiercely across Ariadne's entire left arm. They resembled hives. This happened while she was lying in bed, doing nothing, and staying home. However, when the Great Black Death ended, even those spots disappeared.
“Nothing new has been promoted in particular.”
She thought for a moment and then said.
“If I had to be specific, I didn’t go down to Taranto, but that was more Alfonso’s decision than mine...”
However, there were also parts where the golden rule was applied mercilessly.
The Golden Rule mercilessly measured and accurately inscribed the karmic consequences of Ariadne's actions. This applied even to unavoidable circumstances, such as a carriage accident resulting in the death of a person while distributing food to the poor.
But the golden rule was that what was inevitable by her very existence was usually not considered her karma.
“Well, I don’t think that’s the case.”
The shaman grandmother slowly studied her precious child from a foreign land, wondering if she would inflict a punishment she didn't need to endure. For a moment, her eyes lit up with a dazzling light.
“...Why, why didn’t I tell you before? You’re a half-regressor.”
Ariadne didn't fully grasp the concept, but she nodded, knowing it was true. A discipline built on a foundation of accumulated knowledge over many years is incredibly difficult to understand without mastering the fundamentals. This applies even to the most astute of minds.
"Do you remember what I told you earlier? I told you to tell me if you saw anyone suspicious."
“Yes. I remember.”
The shaman had listed some of the traits she might have: a teardrop mole under one eye, like hers, or a halo on his hand, or, conversely, a bloodshot scar.
But she never found it. She not only searched for it herself, but also alerted Giuseppe and other members of the de Mare family outside the family, but none of them achieved any significant results.
“...In my opinion, this new point came up because of what that guy did.”
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