Chapter 66
Chapter 66. Approach
Gartan turned around without any greeting or question. Only the irregular sound of his cane echoing in the corridor hinted at his state of mind.
Only after he had completely disappeared did Vinea move.
The dice had already been cast. Nexior’s injury would be a major blow to Gartan’s legitimacy to become emperor again. Even if he were to become the Emperor of Veshnu again, the fact that Vante would succeed him wouldn’t change.
‘If he had a new child, things might be different…’
Being six years younger than her father, it’s a bit late for him to have a new child now. Even if a new heir were born, by then Vante would already be a full-grown adult. At that point, dealing with a newborn would be no challenge at all.
Although there would be pressure from her uncle, she had countermeasures he couldn’t even imagine.
‘I know what he did to usurp the throne. And what he will do.’
She knows the location and number of private soldiers he prepared in case things go wrong, his secret funds and methods of communication for illegal tasks, and even where the letters exchanged with nobles who joined him are stored.
Knowing the past, future, and possibilities through regression was the sharpest and most powerful weapon she could wield.
Vinea lightly exhaled and placed her hand on the closed door.
What’s the point of worrying about someone who’s about to die? There are more important issues at hand.
As she opened the door, the owners of high-end dressmaking shops in the capital all stood up to greet her.
“Please be seated.”
The shop owners’ eyes, after glancing at each other and sitting down, held both anxiety about being called without reason and expectation that she might commission their shop.
“I’m sorry for calling you like this. It must be a busy time.”
At the Empress’s unexpected apology, they waved their hands, not knowing how to react. Taking advantage of this relaxed atmosphere, the owner of the largest dressmaking shop in the capital spoke up.
“If I may ask, for what reason have you summoned us to the palace?”
“I have a request for you all. It might be a bit difficult.”
Vinea took out a small paper from her bosom. The lightly sketched drawing had a familiar form to them.
“It’s a dress. Quite an old-fashioned one at that.”
The roughly drawn sketch was barely recognizable as a dress. The hem of the dress with layered folds, the round dots crossing the middle must be decorative jewels, and the brooch drawn in the center of the chest was just a single circle.
It looked like a design that had just captured the main outline when conceptualizing a dress.
There were some visible major features of what was wanted, but nothing else was specified.
“I’ll give you four weeks. To the one who completes this dress in reality, I’ll entrust the clothing of the palace servants. Along with being my exclusive dressmaker for a year.”
The eyes of the shop owners all widened.
How many people work in the imperial palace? At least 300.
Considering the symbolism of working in the palace, they used better fabric than most nobles’ dresses, and the brooches symbolizing each position used real jewels, making them quite valuable. And not just one, but 300 sets.
Moreover, being the Empress’s exclusive dressmaker – if successful, it would not only bring money but also make the shop’s name the best in the empire.
“This dress is a sketch of one worn by someone during the founding period of Tessibania long ago. I want to make it clear that I’m not looking for a beautiful and creative dress. I hope you complete the dress faithfully reflecting the historical accuracy of the past.”
It was a clear statement. Not to incorporate the shop’s characteristics or follow trends, but to create the attire exactly as it was in that era. The shop owners’ eyes shone with determination.
Seeing their reactions, Vinea looked at the drawing on the table.
The dress looked luxurious at a glance. Despite being 800 years old, it didn’t feel particularly outdated. That’s how masterful it was.
Every dress contains the individuality of each shop, and they record all their works. Information like the name or family of the person who ordered it.
Those called today were all from families that had run dressmaking shops in one place since the founding of Tessibania.
They would have to search through family records for historical accuracy, and in doing so, they might discover a design particularly similar to the sketch.
That’s what she was hoping for.
Not long after, the shop owners who had copied the sketch left. Left alone, Vinea picked up the paper.
Over the black lines drawn on the white paper, the image of the woman seen in the vision overlapped.
The straight back, the tired and worn silver eyes, the somewhat rough fingertips unlike the overly luxurious attire, and even the voice that hated God.
Vinea’s lips touched the edge of the paper.
“Tell me. If you are indeed the woman called Ansha, what wish did you make to Sefitiana?”
* * *
The capital’s festival began.
If the first and second days of welcoming foreign delegations, and the third day of the palace banquet were for the nobles, the fourth and fifth days with the festival in the capital streets were like days for the commoners.
On the fourth day, after a light meal at the palace, the priests bestow God’s blessings on people in the capital streets for two days.
It sounds grand, but it was a service activity of listening to their prayers and sprinkling a drop of precious holy water on their heads.
Asha and Nemil were assigned to the most remote alley in the eastern part of the capital.
Unlike Nemil, who was full of tension and excitement, Asha wasn’t in a good mood.
What other reason could there be for bringing two newly appointed priests together to this grand event? Because none of them wanted to walk on poorly maintained streets, get splashed with mud all over, and directly contact people who hadn’t properly washed.
Asha said to Nemil:
“Priest Nemil, you know the method, right?”
“Huh? Yes. I learned it, but…”
“It shouldn’t be too difficult. There are guards in every corner of the alley, so if you’re in a difficult situation, you can ask for help. Don’t ignore people who come to you as you walk around the streets, listen to their stories, but don’t get held up for too long. And be careful not to lose or have the holy water stolen.”
“Are there people who steal holy water?”
Of course there are. With the reputation of the temple, and the limited number each priest can obtain in a lifetime. Those with incurable diseases or those in desperate need tend to want to rely on such things.
“It’s precious. There’s also a folk belief that it purifies impurities.”
“It’s not just a folk belief, it’s true. In the 5th chapter of the scripture, 18th verse, 4th paragraph—”
“Alright, that’s enough. You don’t think you’re the only one who’s memorized the scripture, do you?”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“Let’s meet here again in two hours.”
Whatever the reason Priest Nemil had spent time separately with that noble royal, once they returned to the temple, they were all the same priests.
Asha, who hadn’t slept properly due to teaching the newly appointed Nemil all the way to the palace, walked the streets with heavy steps.
Before she knew it, time had flown by as she listened to the brief concerns of people gathering one by one.
The holy water received from the temple for the festival was almost gone.
As she lightly shook the swirling holy water and was about to turn back to the meeting place, a long shadow fell in front of Asha.
“Hello, Priest.”
A thick, low voice. It seemed to have various accents mixed in at first glance, but its pleasant bass was undeniable.
As she raised her head, a large man smiled at her. Flipping his red hair shining in the sunlight with one hand, the man said:
“I’m Balak Utar. May I ask for a prayer?”
* * *
“—Priest, Priest Asha!”
“…Ah, I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Nemil looked at Asha with a worried face.
“Did something happen?”
Since entering a nearby restaurant to catch their breath, she had been in a daze.
Asha shook her head, saying it was nothing.
Soon, the ordered food was spread out on the table. Although everything looked delicious, Asha wasn’t in the mood to savor them.
As she mechanically put food in her mouth, she recalled a man she had met on the street earlier.
‘If you’re on your way back, let’s promise for next time.’
‘No, it’s fine.’
As Asha placed her hand on the man’s large overlapped hands, he offered a prayer.
‘Coveting what I shouldn’t dare desire and ultimately failing to obtain it, that emptiness and thirst torment me every night. For someone like me who only knows how to sail the seas and make money, greed was like breathing.’
‘Urogia is listening. Please continue.’
‘Now I want to let it go, but having never done so, it seems utterly impossible. How can I put down this greed?’
‘You are a being living in time flowing in God’s blessing. Even that greed will change with your time, so simply letting it flow might be a good method. If you can’t do that, it might be good to think about what you’ll lose when you act on your greed.’
Then she moistened her fingertip with a drop of holy water and touched it to his forehead. As Asha’s hand fell away, the man said to her:
‘May I ask your name, Priest?’
‘…It’s Asha.’
‘Asha, Asha… I’ll remember. It seems God’s blessing has finally reached me today. I’ve received advice like a guiding light.’
‘I’m glad you feel that way. The temple will always welcome you.’
‘Will you be walking the streets tomorrow too?’
‘Probably.’
At that answer, the man smiled deeply, closing his cool eyes. It was an appearance that caught the eye at a glance.
She had never seen such a handsome man, neither in the back alleys nor after entering the temple. Even the emperor, said to be so handsome, couldn’t meet her eyes at the dinner table due to the pressure, unable to raise his head.
‘I hope we can meet again, Asha.’
Asha picked up a water glass. Somehow, her throat felt parched.
