Chapter 88
Chapter 88. Ansha
“…Perfect.”
At Vinea’s single word, the woman standing next to the dress with a very tense face exhaled in relief.
“Your name?”
“I offer my greetings. I am Megan from Dahlia Dressmakers.”
“I was curious what you would bring, coming to meet me without even fulfilling the full time limit, but it’s beyond expectations.”
“It’s an honor to be able to satisfy Your Majesty’s aesthetic sense.”
“Aesthetic sense… That’s not it.”
Megan looked up in confusion at Vinea’s words.
“Pardon…?”
“As the one who completed this dress, don’t you know? What I wanted to see.”
Megan was silent for a moment, as if lost in thought. A sketch that seemed roughly drawn but captured all the characteristics, demanding historical accuracy rather than individuality despite calling many dressmakers. She cautiously opened her mouth.
“If I dare guess, I thought that rather than making a dress based on the sketch you provided, Your Majesty wanted to see the recreation of a specific dress.”
“Why did you think so?”
“Because the characteristics of the sketch Your Majesty drew were very similar to a dress our dressmakers made a very long time ago.”
Megan pointed out in turn the red brooch on the collar, the waist, and the lace between the hem of the dress.
“Also, the circular brooch decorating the neck, the tightly fitted corset and the voluminous pleated fabric below it, even the lace decorating in between…”
She folded her hands politely and continued speaking to Vinea.
“Though these are common features long out of fashion, the only time when all these features were used together in a dress was during the early founding period of the Tessibanian Empire. It was my ancestor who first opened our dressmakers that led this trend.”
Vinea nodded at her explanation.
“Your thinking is correct. I hoped to see exactly this dress. You brought the perfect answer.”
“Then…”
“Follow the servant guiding you on your way back. The head maid will tell you what to pay attention to regarding the servants’ attire.”
Megan bowed, covering her mouth with both hands.
“Thank you so much, Your Majesty!”
“I’d like to talk more about this dress, if possible?”
“Of course.”
Megan, sitting opposite Vinea at a low table, carefully lifted the teacup placed in front of her. She didn’t know how many nights she had stayed up to complete this one dress. It took more than four days just to get used to the sewing method that was hardly used nowadays.
Though it was something she had to endure willingly, as a reward several times her effort awaited.
“If I may be so bold, could I ask why you wanted to see this dress?”
“To be precise, I was curious about the person who wore that dress. Someone I became interested in by chance. Do you know anything?”
It was an unfriendly answer that contained almost no proper information, but Megan, who usually dealt with many nobles, knew that this was an unspoken pressure not to dig deeper.
Nodding, Megan pulled out a thick book from among the luggage she had brought and placed it on the table.
“I brought this just in case, thinking there might be information you want.”
Thick leather cover, inside were sketches of dress designs from ones old enough to read the passage of time to ones that seemed recently inserted.
“It must not have been an easy decision to bring it out of the dressmakers.”
“Certainly, it would be troublesome if it leaked, but it was an opportunity I couldn’t miss. I wanted to erase the old feeling and expand the business anew for my daughter who will inherit the dressmakers.”
It wasn’t for nothing that everyone had desperately rushed to this proposal due to the imperial name value. The owner of the opposing dressmakers is said to have stayed up all night thinking of designs and badgering their employees.
Megan inwardly thanked her long-deceased ancestor. Thanks to them, she had gained a good opportunity to break the stuffy impression embedded in the dressmakers while basking in the halo of the young and beautiful Empress.
Megan opened the thick book and held it out in front of Vinea. It was the part she had been reading until her eyes nearly fell out while making the dress.
“This is it.”
On the left page were written the fabrics needed to make the dress, sewing techniques, important parts and wear comfort. And on the right, Vinea’s gaze fell on a lightly drawn sketch.
“It’s the dress you made.”
“Yes. Can you see the pattern drawn in the bottom right?”
It was a small picture drawn with flexible lines. Though it looked close to a doodle, it wasn’t too difficult to recognize what it was.
“A lion. The symbol of Tessibania.”
“Our dressmakers have traditionally drawn that pattern for designs first supplied to the imperial family. This design was the first one our dressmakers supplied to the imperial family.”
“Which means…”
Megan hesitated for a moment, then spoke as if she had made up her mind.
“I beg your pardon, but the explanation that follows may be a bit uncomfortable for Your Majesty to hear.”
“It’s fine, tell me.”
With Vinea’s permission, Megan raised her hand to point at the number written at the very bottom of the left page.
“We’ve noted when the design was completed. The date should be familiar to you.”
Vinea’s eyes hardened slightly as she checked the date. Megan continued speaking while watching Vinea’s reaction.
“It’s the founding day when Tessibania officially announced its name to the world. There must have been a grand banquet. There aren’t many who would order such a luxurious dress from the imperial family.”
“…The founding Emperor, Abraltan’s Empress.”
“Or, perhaps his mistress?”
Now Vinea understood why Megan had hesitated to bring up the story.
Abraltan, the knight who had eliminated Salbare, the tyrant king of the Orbanteon Kingdom. He later founded the Tessibanian Empire, and as with old figures, he was naturally revered as a being beyond human.
Moreover, there were records that a pillar of light fell from the sky when he founded the empire, leading to stories that he might be a messenger sent by God.
Add to that his reportedly good relationship with the Empress, and he was often described in history books as a human without flaws.
How easy would it be to bring down such a great founding Emperor to a mere man with a mistress? Especially in front of the Empress of the Tessibanian Empire.
It wasn’t too difficult to find Emperor Abraltan’s life story from losing his parents as a child to becoming a knight of the tyrant King Salbare. It was probably close to the truth, but that’s why the focus was on him having a mistress.
Abraltan was said to have married the daughter of a high noble from the Orbanteon royal era on the day he declared the founding. So on the day this dress design was completed, there couldn’t have been a child between the two who weren’t even married yet.
With no parents, it wouldn’t be a gift for his mother, and if it wasn’t ordered directly by the future Empress, there was only one assumption left.
Megan turned a few more pages and opened to a completely different design.
“You can see the imperial pattern drawn here too. The date is a little later than the dress you just saw. But…”
As she opened the back page, someone’s name was scrawled in cursive writing at the bottom right of the empty back.
[Magnolia de Tessibania]
“…The name of the founding Empress.”
“That’s right.”
Megan opened the previous design again. Turning the back page, similarly, someone’s name was written. Unlike the name written on the back, a very short name.
[Ansha]
Vinea traced the faded name with her fingertip.
“Ansha…”
It wasn’t unexpected, but still, her heart beat rapidly.
Ansha. The woman with black hair and silver eyes who had opened the temple doors as if running away from something, or as if she had been driven out.
And the first person to make a wish on Sefitiana.
“Do you know anything more about this woman?”
“I’m sorry, but this is all I can tell you.”
“I see.”
It would have been nice if there was more information to be gleaned, but this had already achieved what she aimed for.
Ansha. When she saw the clothes and accessories she wore in the memories stored in the artifact, she had guessed she wasn’t of low status, but to think she was the founding Emperor’s mistress.
Now she understood her rough fingertips that contrasted with her attire.
How did an ordinary girl from a small countryside become the founding Emperor’s mistress? And why did she leave the palace, enter the temple as if fleeing, and leave behind the lightless Sefitiana?
And why did she return to the village where she was born and take her own life?
What story, what tragedy must there have been?
Vinea closed the book.
“My curiosity has been satisfied. You may go now. We’ll see each other at every banquet for the next year, so let’s continue any unfinished conversations next time.”
“Understood, Your Majesty.”
Megan packed up the book and left the reception room with a happy face. Lineue, standing behind, examined the dress and asked her:
“It seems a bit impractical to wear directly as it’s quite out of fashion. What shall we do?”
“Hang it in a corner of the wardrobe.”
She needed the information she would gain through the dress, not the clothes themselves.
Vinea lifted the cooled teacup and looked at her reflection in the tea.
Instead of the overwhelming emotion she felt when she first specified the time of 800 years ago, she saw a face mixed with impatience.
The pressure to find a way to end the regression as soon as possible because of the life that had arrived in her womb, and resentment towards Tatar who still hadn’t awakened, mixed chaotically.
Waiting was unfamiliar. Until now, he had always been by her side whenever she needed. How much longer would she have to wait?
She had much news to tell him. About Ansha, and about their child.
As she put her lips to the cold teacup, organizing her thoughts, Deron opened the door to the reception room where she was without asking for permission.
“Your Majesty, I think you should check today’s newspaper immediately.”
Vinea took the newspaper Deron held out and spread it wide.
At the very top of the newspaper, written in large letters that caught the eye at once, was a sensational title:
[Sefitiana, Who on Earth Stole God’s Miracle!]
