Chapter 68 - *By The Candlelight

I half remember my past self now. Now that I think about it, I've come a long, long way. 

I used to be depressed all the time, overworked, exhausted… At school I barely paid any attention to the long, grey lectures. 

Now? Now it's different. 

I've become more full of vigor. Adventurous, even. At first I had thought of this whole isekai business as a punishment of some sort. Why did I have to be transmigrated in the first place? There are millions of people in the world, most of them yearning for some fantastical stuff like such to happen to them; God could have picked any one of them. So why did I get stuck with such misfortune when I had already suffered so much?

But I get it now. Or at least I think so. 

As I gobbled up the last crumbs of my dinner, I stared at the white plate in which my reflection looked back at me. No matter how much I looked at myself, I'd never be able to get used to the eye-blessing sight. How could one not faint at such beauty? Instinctively, I touched my skin with a gentle finger and sighed because this wasn't truly me.  I was just a poor orphan girl from Incheon. No matter how much my soul seeps into this world of fiction, I mustn't let go of my roots. I kept telling myself that over and over again, not really aware of the stronghold this world already had on me. 

As I pondered over the ills that may have befallen me, I never once noticed Sven's staring. 

"Tell me about her," he muttered quietly, too quiet and sudden for me to hear. 

"What?" I asked suddenly, breaking free from the trance of my thoughts. 

He looked into my eyes with determination, and his jaw hardened. "About her. Emery. Tell me about her." 

My shoulder slumped as I sat there on the crate, a candle before us on the table the only source of illumination in the vast darkness. I played our memories in my mind, picking and choosing my words before saying something.

"She was a friend." It took me immense strength to utter something out eventually. The whole while my eyes were on the hems of my dress. I feared that if I lifted my gaze and talked face-to-face to a man who was the very picture of Emery herself, I wouldn't be able to keep in this swelling grief that grew by the day. "Her silver hair gave her this angelic aura, making her stand out from the rest. I'd never seen anyone like her before." But then again, I had never seen anyone like anybody I had come across in this world before. I couldn't tell him that, though. 

I risked a peek at Sven and saw him staring intently on the flickering flame that danced upon the candle wick. 

"A-And," I continued as I looked back down, "she was kind. Christabel- Lady Virak- told me that she saved a pregnant maid from the fire that ill day, giving in to death in her stead. That's how she died. I'm so very sorry."

From the corners of my eyes, I saw Sven clench his fist, but he didn't say anything. I heard a pitter-patter on the window and I turned my head to look at what it was. Surprisingly, it was raining. My first rain in Wisteria. I looked back at Sven and realized he had never unclenched his fist.  I decided that carrying on would be the best for everyone. 

"She had a dream." At these words, Sven perked up a little. "She told me all about it. Her dream was to perform at the theater, to be a renowned dancer. I remember her telling me ever so happily, how this dream of hers took shape the very day she learned her first few steps at the town circus. I was so happy for her."

I felt tears forming on my lower lids, and I fanned myself to keep them away. This was getting hard. 

"What did she look like?" he said after what seemed like an eternity. "Tell me, so I could at least visualize her in my mind, since I'd never be able to see her in person."

I nodded. "She had long silver hair like yours, though she always wore it in a low bun at the back of her neck. Palace rules, I reckon."

He nodded as he stared into the candle. 

"Her skin was fair, very much like yours. She had hazel eyes and a small mole under her one eye. With sweet pink lips and a heart shaped face, she looked just like a doll. Here, bring me a paper and a pencil, I'll draw her for you." 

Tripping over his own foot in the process, Sven hastily stood up and took two stairs at a time as he zoomed upstairs, coming back soon with a piece of parchment and a stick in his hand. 

I took it from him, confused. But then I noticed a piece of charcoal tied to the end of the stick in an attempt to create a pencil. What had I expected, a modern day mechanical pencil? Carefully, I took the folded piece of paper and flipped it open so I could start drawing. I was never known as the artist girl in my class, but it wouldn't hurt to try. It took me a while to get her features right. The whole while Sven peered at the paper over my shoulder, studying each and every one of my strokes. ILLUSTRATION:

"I think I'm done." I held my sketch at a distance and the candle's glow lit it from the back. "Here, take a look."

Tenderly, Sven took the drawing from my hand and studied it. It felt like a long time. There were no movements, no sounds... even the crickets had stopped chirping. 

"May I keep it?"

I had almost dozed off, so I jerked awake at Sven's words. "W-What?"

"May I keep it?" he asked again, staring into my eyes. 

I raised my eyebrows, a bit surprised at this request. "Yes...yes! Of course."

He nodded gratefully and stared at it a for few more moments before putting the sketch in his pocket. "Thank you. I'll be up in my room, then, since dinner's over. Call me if you feel like it." He had suddenly turned distant again, and I could tell he wanted to add 'Your Highness' at the end. I commend him for his restraint.

With that, he stood up once again and left me alone without a second glance back. I bit my lips as I stared at the dancing flame, knowing very well that he was probably crying again. Somehow, I had barely managed to keep in my tears myself. 

Just when I was about to pick the plates and take them back to the kitchen, there was a knock on the door. I put the plates back on the small table and went to the door and opened it just an inch. Instantly, the roaring of the wind flooded the inn and I struggled to see who stood before me. 

"Let me in?" said someone.

That's when I realized that Reynard had finally returned. 

"Goodness..." I let him in, backing away as he dripped water all over the wooden floor. "You came all the way here in the rain?"

He was wearing his cloak now, the one he always wore when visiting me at the palace. His hood hung at the back of his neck and his hair was matted to his forehead. My eyes travelled down to his clothes which dripped water all over his shoes. He raked a shaky hand through his hair and shook out the water just like a dog. 

"No," he mumbled as he took off his cloak and hung it on a hook by the door. "It started raining when I was halfway here. It's been a while since it rained. I'm sure the farmers are rejoicing today…. Or not."

"Why not?" I asked as I led him to the candle-lit table. "What's happened?"

He grimaced as he met my face. I searched his expression for clues as to what he was talking about, but found none. Had something terrible happened? 

"Today is the princess's funeral. The whole town is gathered around the Engil Cemetery where the ceremony is being carried out. The Emperor himself is present. Is Mama home?" I shook my head. "Yeah, she's probably keeping up attendance. I only found out about it from a talkative couple at the market."

I pursed my lips. What should I even say? That I felt sad? That I was grieved? Because I was not. I felt relieved that things were finally coming to a close. Soon, everybody would forget about the princess and the prophecy and the blessing and will hopefully go about their own lives, and I'd be able to live my own, for once not paranoid about a guard pointing me out. But still, Reynard looked troubled. 

"Um, are you alright?" I asked. He nodded as he wrung his hands once. Twice. Thrice. "So what did Mister Verel say?"

At this, Reynard visibly flinched. I raised my eyebrows, because I was not expecting that. What, had something gone wrong? Oh crap, now that I think about it, giving him something so valuable would definitely have sparked some questions from that keen jeweler. Oh gosh, what a mistake I've made! I looked nervously at Reynard, waiting for him to chastise me. 

"If you're wondering whether he grew suspicious of me because of that brooch, you're right," he said bitterly, shooting me a dirty look.

I recoiled in guilt but then pondered upon it some more. No use crying over spilt milk. I buckled up and sat straighter, looking straight into Reynard's weary sea-blue eyes. 

"So what did he say, then?"

Reynard sighed and wrung out a wet corner of his shirt. I sweeped an eye over him. He was wearing casual trousers and a black shirt. He hadn't been wearing that when he came by this morning. 

"Did you go get a change of clothes? How's your mom doing?" I asked worriedly. At this, he flinched and his face got covered with a dark shadow as he turned it away from the candlelight. "Is she worse?" I whispered.

He nodded. "If you don't mind, I'd like to give her your hair as soon as possible. We're still not sure if her disease could be cured that way, though. What if it only heals bruises? And if it does do the job, I was wondering if we should start helping other people, too. It could save so many lives..."

"No, we can't do that. If your mom recovers, which I'm sure she will," I added quickly, "we must keep the hair a secret. Always. Even if your mother asks about what medicine cured her, you keep silent. Believe me, I'd love to help as many people with this blessing as much as you want me to. I mean, we could cure all diseases. But I also don't want to become some sort of lab rat. I don't want people to deprive me of my freedom just because I suddenly got healing powers. Do you understand what I mean? Once people find out this girl can do it all, I'll never see the light of the day ever again. I think that's what Yvonne meant when she said that I won't have any freedom after my powers awaken."

"Yvonne?" Reynard tilted his head, "Ahh, you mean that redhead. Who even was she?"

I smiled as I thought about her. "A lady. A friend.. A helper."