kscans

Chapter 4 - The Girl Thinks of Her People

The girl becomes a woman.

Her nursemaid’s death released her from her shackles, but she was no longer a child who could thoughtlessly throw open the cage door.

With only her thoughts free, the girl considered many things based on the scraps of information she had.

For instance, what was the state of the country now?

Had the nation fallen into chaos because rebels seized control, as her nursemaid claimed?

The girl’s conclusion was no.

It was Karen who had taught her this.

This hidden village was poor.

Even with the support from Karen’s father, it was far from prosperous. Sugar was a luxury, and the villagers lived so frugally that the sweet bread eaten at the New Year’s festival was their greatest delight.

Almost none of the residents of this hidden village were originally of high status. She had gradually realized that they were mostly relatives of those who had died alongside her father when he was slain by the rebels—insignificant people, not important enough to be hunted down. Most were lower-class nobles in poor financial straits. From snippets of conversations among the servants, she gathered that those from wealthier families, even if stripped of their titles, had managed to escape abroad and maintain a decent standard of living. Her nursemaid had been extremely particular about status. The highest rank, of course, belonged to the girl herself. Next was the nursemaid, born into a marquisate and married into another of equal rank. After her came the village chief, a former knight and the second son of a count. The rest, in the nursemaid’s eyes, were insignificant lower nobility. She had a grasp of the hierarchy.

From her window, she watched them. These people, who had once been nobles, however low-ranking, showed no particular discontent as they diligently cultivated the land, living no differently from peasants. All the while, they never neglected their sword training.

One day, they would rally behind the girl as their figurehead and reclaim the kingdom of old.

Like her nursemaid, they clung to this belief with an obsessive tenacity.

Why they did so, the girl could not understand.

But the fact that baked sweets, even if containing only a small amount of sugar, were popular among the common people of the cities—that told her something.

Besides the sweets, there were the accessories.

Hair ornaments made of small velvet or silk ribbons adorned with colorful embroidery. These, too, were apparently in vogue in the cities. Karen herself wore one of a refined color in her hair. As always, she would show it off, ask the nursemaid if Her Highness might like one, and then retract the offer, saying it wasn't a suitable item for one so noble. It was the usual farce, and the nursemaid would nod in agreement. Better to wear nothing at all than something half-hearted. The proud nursemaid would admonish the girl, even though she never once said she wanted such things, nor showed any sign of it.

The women of the hidden village had no luxury to adorn themselves. Their faces were gaunt, their spirits drained, and they wore only black clothes like mourning dresses. The girl’s own clothes, though made of fine silk, were always black. They were elegant, but plain, high-collared, and utterly devoid of splendor. The only bright colors were on the children’s clothes, and even those were patched-up hand-me-downs, mended time and again.

The girl thought.

A hidden village meant there was almost no contact with the outside world. It was as if time stood still. Her only clues to the world beyond were the various goods Karen’s father sent to his daughter. Karen’s dresses were cotton, but their colors and tailoring improved with each passing year. The lace she used was also far more refined than what she’d worn in the beginning. Some of it even reminded the girl of patterns she had seen in a book of classical embroidery designs.

Was it just before Karen left that she saw the small cotton hair ribbons become embroidered, and then the material change to silk? If one listened carefully, one could learn that their price was well within reach of a commoner. The girl had seen the young women of the village watching Karen with eyes full of envy.

The people were more prosperous now than when her father was king.

What had her nursemaid been thinking, to so stubbornly refuse to see reality? Why did she continue to avert her eyes from a truth that even a young girl like herself could grasp with just a little careful thought?