kscans

Chapter 8 - Regis

Regis was not a particularly large town. It had a population of eight thousand, with cotton fields spreading across its suburbs, and its main industry was spinning. Wheat, the staple food, was also cultivated, but the self-sufficiency rate was only about sixty percent. The town of Regis had developed around the merchants who brought in the needed supplies and those who sold cotton cloth. In a way, Regis was more at the forefront of fashion than the capital itself. New dyes, new designs—they were born in Regis. And when a merchant from the capital spotted a promising product, it would set a new trend there. Regis overflowed with fabrics of every color, was decorated with clothes of bold design, and pulsed with ambition and fervor.

For the girl, the flood of colors she was seeing for the first time was enough to make her dizzy. On top of that, she was exhausted from the unaccustomed horse ride. The girl, who had never walked for long periods, was nearing the limits of her stamina. And yet, her heart danced at the sight of the outside world. Her eyes, with the wonder befitting her age, were captivated by the colorful dresses displayed in the shop windows.

Seeing this, the boy stopped his horse. He dismounted swiftly and offered his hand to the bewildered girl.

"…I’ll buy it for you. Come."

"What?"

"I hate that gloomy dress. That one isn’t bad."

He glanced towards a light pink dress displayed in a shop window. It was of a tasteful make, with the recently popular small puff sleeves and a high-waist cut. This type of design would suit a slender girl like her.

But the girl did not take the boy’s hand.

"My apologies, but I must decline. Only silk is suitable for me. That is well-made, but it is cotton, is it not?"

"…You’re stubborn."

"Thank you for the compliment."

The boy’s face soured, but he didn’t press the matter further. He mounted his horse again and proceeded slowly through the bustling town without a destination. The boy wanted to do something for the girl whose life he would have to take that night. He found it unbearably sad that she would die without knowing any of the pleasures of a young woman her age, without a single dress or ornament befitting a princess.

Suddenly, a pleasant aroma drifted by. He looked and saw a stall selling grilled mutton skewers. The girl, too, seemed drawn by the scent and was looking in that direction. He realized they had wandered into a district lined with eateries. It was almost noon, and he finally noticed that the girl hadn't eaten anything. The boy had eaten breakfast before meeting her, but the girl, who had been in confinement, had not been served a morning meal. Appetizing smells wafted from everywhere, and the area was alive with the energetic calls of vendors. The girl watched with curiosity as a woman selling sweet baked goods from a basket raised her voice, delivering a cheerful sales pitch. Then her eyes fell on a stall selling sandwiches of meat tucked into bread, and a child selling fruit juice diluted with water. Around a cart piled high with cheap sweets, a lively group of children clutching coins had gathered.

"Is there anything you’d like to try?"

Seeing the girl finally show a real reaction, the boy felt a sense of relief as he asked. But the girl said there was nothing she wanted to eat.

"The base food of commoners is not suitable for a princess."

The boy scowled but didn’t ask further, deciding to make her eat by force.

"It’s a bit early, but we’ll have lunch."

He informed the knight behind him and dismounted. This time, when the boy offered his hand, the girl took it. The boy bit his lip at the feel of her incredibly frail, slender, and cold hand.

Truthfully, the boy wished he could have treated the girl to a meal prepared by the castle’s head chef, using the finest ingredients, but that was an impossible fantasy. Moreover, they were incognito. Posing as a young lord of lower nobility and his escort, entering one of the few high-end restaurants in Regis was not a wise move. Though dissatisfied, he decided on a diner known for its good food, which one of the knights knew of. In a public diner, even a feast was nothing special, but it would be better than the food in that hidden village. The boy asked the girl what she wanted to eat. Her answer was "Three-Grain Porridge." It was called a sacred meal, something clergy were required to eat once a day, but simply put, it was the food of the poor. It was also the cheapest item on the menu.

"This is your last meal. Don’t hold back."

"It is quite all right. Having come this far, please allow me to see my will through. The sacred meal of Three-Grain Porridge is enough."

Three types of hardy grains bestowed by the gods to ward off famine—a simple porridge made by boiling them had raised the girl. She occasionally had vegetables, fruits, and meat, but a meal befitting a princess could not be prepared in that village. The only meal her nursemaid deemed suitable for a princess was "Three-Grain Porridge." The girl appreciated the boy’s consideration, but her stomach felt as if it would turn upside down from the unfamiliar horse ride. She thought she might throw up anything other than the familiar porridge. And her prediction was likely correct.

The boy fell into a sullen silence, but after a moment, he grudgingly ordered the Three-Grain Porridge. Five servings, including one for the accompanying knight.

The girl said they didn't have to join her, but the boy angrily retorted that there was no way they, as men, could eat whatever they pleased while she alone ate porridge.

The modest meal ended in a flash. It was a silent, tasteless affair, but the girl faintly murmured, "It is a happy thing to eat with many people." The boy regretted not having started a single conversation.

When they left the shop, the afternoon sun cast slightly longer shadows than before.

"It is time to prepare yourself," one of the knights whispered to the boy. The boy clenched his fists, forcing down the aimless rage welling up in his chest.

By rights, he should have already disposed of the girl and be on his way back to the capital. The boy knew well that he was reaching his limit.

He and the girl mounted the horse once more and headed for the hidden village. Leaving the noise of the town behind and passing through the gate, they were met with nothing but sprawling cotton fields. The idyllic silence stirred the boy’s heart with an unbearable restlessness.

He wanted to do something for her, anything. But the girl, with frustrating resolve, desired nothing.

If the girl had said just one word—that she didn’t want to die—the boy would have offered to prepare a substitute corpse. There were already several bodies lying in the hidden village. No one in the royal palace knew the face of the last survivor of the old royal family. It would not be difficult to alter one of the corpses. The knights would likely object, but they had grown sympathetic as they learned of her character and her past. If the boy insisted strongly, the possibility was not zero.

But the girl desired to have her life taken by him. As the "surviving princess of the old royal family."