Chapter 36: A Day of Rest (Part 2)
After putting away my corset, I began rummaging through the wardrobe, pulling out a court-style dress and changing into it. I walked over to the mirror for a look, tied my hair into a ponytail and then let it down again. I went back to the wardrobe and tried on a color-blocking camisole dress, checked myself out again, struck a few cute poses, then changed into a Bohemian maxi dress… After repeating this many times, I suddenly realized that my wardrobe was almost entirely filled with beautiful dresses. The jumpsuits and maxi dresses overwhelmed everything else, and some of them, I couldn’t even remember when or where I had bought.
But that didn’t matter.
What mattered was the joy of taking out each dress, trying on different styles, and seeing which looked the best… That process truly made me feel delighted.
Especially when I wore the magnificent gowns sent over by Victoria. When I looked at my reflection in the mirror, resembling a grand princess, my heart would go “thump-thump,” fluttering with excitement like a little girl—it was simply too beautiful! I couldn’t wait to go out in it, but then fear would creep in, worrying about being too eye-catching and attracting unwanted attention from passersby. I hated being looked at like that and didn’t like the feeling of being on display all the time.
So I wanted to go out, but didn’t want to go out.
Battling this inner conflict, each time I played dress-up at home, I couldn’t help but think: heh heh, one day when I’m in the mood, I’ll seriously dress up and wow everyone… But for now, I won’t let you see me at my best… just you wait…
It dawned on me that my mindset mirrored that of a child with an impressive new toy, eager to show it off to friends but unwilling to share, resulting in a dilemma filled with joy.
For this reason, whenever I go out, I generally don’t choose particularly flashy dresses, hats, or accessories; I tend to wear simpler styles. Of course, even simple has to look good, and the fabric has to be comfortable—because in this world, even that basic dressing standard is a privilege only the wealthy or noble ladies possess. Common girls mostly wear rough burlap. I remember Victoria wearing it on the night of her birthday; comfort is definitely not something associated with that material.
In fact, when I first arrived in this world, I wore those same rough burlap dresses in the small village. I remember feeling indifferent about it back then; while I liked pretty and comfortable dresses, I would feel happy if I could wear them, but if not, then so be it… No big deal.
But now, I might never find that carefree comfort again.
It’s not that I can’t wear those uncomfortable, unattractive burlap dresses again. Honestly, I could wear them for a day or two, three, five days, or even longer without issue. But if I had to spend three, five years, or a lifetime wrapped in a burlap sack, entirely giving up on my pursuit of certain things… I’m afraid the current me would really struggle to accept it.
I was no longer that simple village girl who just wanted a quiet life.
After a year, many things had changed subtly, turning me into almost a completely different person… a girl who grew up in a cold castle, overly pampered from a young age, a girl with a sweet tooth.
I was fully aware of these changes.
For instance, not long ago… aimlessly trying on dresses, then not wearing any of them, it would have seemed to the old me as a frivolous waste of time. I would feel anxious about wasting my time like that; I never put so much effort into eating and dressing before. I’d rather use my time on socializing, negotiating partnerships, handling business matters, and all that jazz—so much so that I hardly found time to spend with my fiancée.
Yet now, I could no longer retrieve that mindset from back then. Even those memories felt distant, like clusters of elusive white clouds fading away from my sight.
I’ve grown accustomed to—and slowly accepted—this change.
So much so that when I snapped back to reality, I realized I’d spent nearly two hours trying on dresses, but I still wanted more. The thrill of looking good attracted me even more than joyfully gaming with my brothers ever did.
But happiness has its limits.
Occasionally I find solace in something deeper… such as my determination, courage, persistence, and most importantly, self-control—these qualities still resonate within my body, deeply rooted in my soul. They urge me to move forward rather than act like a delicate princess living in a greenhouse, who cannot endure hardship, struggles to see the path clearly, and desires nothing but a luxurious and stable life.
So even when I’m having fun, I know when to draw the line. I tidied up all my dresses, changed into clean pajamas, and sat back down at my desk to continue my reading.
I read until I polished off a whole plate of Captain Gray’s and drank down four cups of milk before realizing I was a tad hungry again. I went downstairs to the kitchen, took out a bag of peas I’d bought yesterday, along with sliced carrots, and cooked them together. I plated them, sprinkling salt, vinegar, cumin, pepper, and almonds, then drizzled some sweet sauce, salad dressing, and milk over them. After thinking for a moment, I added some mayonnaise and slowly mixed them; the taste smelled a bit off, so I tossed in some ginger and mint. After a chaotic mixing session, Peilo’s special nutritious pea dish was finally ready.
After bringing it to the tea table, I cautiously took a bite… surprisingly, it wasn’t bad?
After lunch, the temperature gradually rose. The mansion was getting a bit hot, making it harder to read.
So I had no choice but to step out onto the terrace repeatedly, spraying myself with ice mist for some relief. After a few rounds, I was starting to feel annoyed and uncomfortable. My pajamas were made of soft, high-quality fabric, but once they got damp with ice mist, they stiffened up. Not only was it irritating to wear, but it also felt a little wet, which, while not a dealbreaker, was definitely not pleasant.
Furrowing my brow, I thought for a while, then dashed to the washroom to fill up some empty buckets with water. I brought out four buckets, placing them in the corners of the bedroom, dipped my hands into the water to freeze it, and then used Sin Fire to melt the ice surrounding my palms so I could pull my hands out.
After freezing the water in the buckets, I lay on my bed for a while. It didn’t feel cool, so I went to the neighboring house, #2, to borrow a basin. I ran into the maid named Sharman, who sent over ten basins at once. I filled them all with water and set them up against the wall in the bedroom. I froze that water as well, then went downstairs to clean the used plates. The Frost Order created countless ice balls the size of fingernails, which I plated, and headed back to the bedroom. The temperature noticeably dropped, which made me happy. I sat back at my desk to read, munching on ice balls like they were candy.
By the afternoon, I was getting a bit bored with reading, and my eyes were tired. The outside temperature had dropped slightly, so I washed a few dirty clothes and hung them up, put on my shoes, dashed to the courtyard to breathe in the fragrant air, tidied up the flowers and plants, played with the fountain’s water, and chased some butterflies—though I didn’t attempt to catch any. When I felt sleepy, I returned to the inner mansion and found a rocking chair. I brought out the Dragon’s Tome and sat in a shady spot amid the flowers to continue reading while drifting off into slumber.
When my eyelids started to get heavy, I settled into a comfortable position, resting my book on my chest, closed my eyes, and listened to the birds chirping and insects buzzing until I slowly fell asleep.
Occasionally, this solitude felt like a treat to me.
I enjoyed that sensation of being in a peaceful place, undisturbed, as if the entire world was reduced to just me. No one to entertain, free to do whatever I wanted, I could close my eyes whenever I was tired, allowing myself to dive into delightful dreams and wake up excited for the day those dreams come true.
And today, there was a dream.
It was vaguely a nice dream, but unfortunately, when I woke up, I could hardly recall anything.
Dusk arrived gently.
After waking, I dashed to the mailbox at the front door to check for new news.
Collecting the news report, I jogged back, kicked off my shoes as I entered, leaped onto the sofa, bouncing and settling into the softest spot, cross-legged, spreading the news report before me, my eyes scanning for my points of interest—when I noticed the largest headline on the front page read: [Victory at Mosley Coast’s First Battle, Countless Heretics Captured; Knights Celebrate with Raised Swords].
The article was long and tedious, mostly informing how the church won, successfully blocking the terrible heretics at the coastline. They were currently interrogating the prisoners, relieving the tense situation in Silgaya. The clergy and priests began to pray and bless everywhere, singing a song of triumph for the victory.
Honestly, this article portrayed the victory as so effortless that it gave off an impression as if the heretics arrived, and the church knights simply plowed through them effortlessly, which obviously was a contrived depiction of a massive power gap aimed at showcasing their strength and invincibility to pacify the masses. This was a common tactic of the Holy Church, but the victory felt far too lightly glossed over; I found it hard to believe.
Could it really have been that easy?
Just months ago, Teresa alone had turned the capital upside down. If she had been given enough manpower, even the means to engage the knights, how terrifying would that be? I couldn’t imagine.
The Gate of Truth was evil, but their strength was undeniable. If there were individuals on par with Teresa, or even more ferocious, in this battle by the coastline… could the church genuinely claim victory so easily?
Upon further reflection, it didn’t seem impossible.
According to Angel, this operation was bolstered not only by the two knights’ forces exceeding ten thousand but also included many priests and clerics dispatched from other places, and even bishops joining in. With such a lineup… defeating a bunch of people coming by boat from the Eastern Continent didn’t seem far-fetched, even if some among them were of noteworthy standing.
So…
Did they win?
If indeed they won, that would be splendid.
I just hoped everything went smoothly.
Lost in these swirling thoughts, I flipped the news report back and forth in my hands. On the second to last page, I spotted an urgent report regarding the Valen Empire.
On the night of May 13, after months of brewing, the royal civil war erupted in full force—led by Duke Skarlick, the Shanter Army, in conjunction with a thousand iron cavalry from the New City of Kaliye, launched a surprise attack on Eagle City. The next day, the city fell, and Lord Longdoll found himself trapped, ultimately exhausted and perishing in battle. Winter City captured a vital strategic location, issuing surrender notices to twelve surrounding cities, risking Chielis City to face a cut-off transport route. The aftermath of this siege will influence the direction of the war…
The report contained only a few terse lines, yet I found myself reading it repeatedly.
I couldn’t tell whether my feelings were heavy or light.
The Valen Empire… the war ignited by me has finally begun.
However…
In the very first battle, my father made a lightning strike capture of a city, the strategically crucial Eagle City located between the north and south of the empire. Securing this would effectively sever the link between the northern territory and the palace. From there, all he’d have to do is hold Eagle City and steadily conquer the cities aligned with the royal palace from within the northern region. Before long, the entire north would belong to my father.
And if the palace lost the north, it would practically mean losing the majority of the empire’s productive capacity. Defeat would be just a matter of time.
Unlike the skirmishes at the Silgaya coastline, the church’s news wouldn’t fabricate reports on the Valen Empire’s civil war. Just a few clean lines articulated the facts, with no hints of embellishment. I had no doubt about the authenticity of the details, which only made the impact more overwhelming.
My father, truly remarkable…
After the shock came an unprecedented sense of relaxation and comfort.
I didn’t understand military tactics, but I had seen the map of the Valen Empire and comprehended what capturing Eagle City entailed. Regardless of how the internal conflict might unfold, at least after this battle, Winter City would have no rear guard worries. As long as my father retained Eagle City before reclaiming it from the palace, Shanter Castle would be secure. My father was truly impressive.
When he’s silent, he’s still calculating.
But when he strikes…
It’s earth-shattering.
I had planned to seek out Angel at the church tonight to ask him about these two matters. But now, it didn’t seem so urgent.
I read that report from start to finish, word for word, feeling elated as I hummed back upstairs to my bedroom. I folded the news report and stashed it away in my bedside drawer. Then I surged onto the bed, rolling back and forth with thoughts swirling until dusk set in, the faint yellow light outside slowly calming my emotions.
Calculating the time…
The goat cheese should be coming back soon, right?
When it gets back, I’ll see what my mother has to say. I must remember to ask her these things clearly…
I lay on my bed for a long time, realizing I couldn’t read anymore today. So, I began contemplating what to have for dinner. There was still a plate of Captain Gray’s waiting, which I set aside for Aili because I had promised her donuts today. I had been waiting for her to come.
I wanted to share the recent war news with her as well.
But it seemed she wouldn’t come…
After waiting a bit longer, as the outside darkened, I got up and walked to the terrace, gazing at the last glimmering sunlight reluctant to leave.
As the clouds shifted, the misty dusk gradually receded. The milky white smoke wafted from the city, settling over the grayish Longdoll Street, which remained quiet, except for the occasional war chariot passing by and patrolling soldiers. It was almost impossible to see any figures—Longdoll Street had always been like this, sometimes eerily empty. At this time, naturally, no little girl dressed in a nun’s outfit would come by.
Yet I waited until the night fully enveloped everything before returning to the mansion’s kitchen, pulling out the last plate of Captain Gray’s for dinner.
While solitude sometimes felt like a luxury, more often, especially when night came, my heart would be filled with an endless void, and I would feel particularly low.
I hated that feeling of being abandoned by the entire world. Even if the curtains were drawn back and the doors wide open, there was only the constant ticking of the clock around me. Joyful moments with no one to share, sorrowful moments with no one to confide in. Victoria was gone, Carlos was gone, my father, mother, and older brother were all gone. I talked to myself in the mirror, entertaining my own company; everything I did felt solely like I was in the lead role.
Especially after the last great war, recovering memories from my dreams. These days, whenever my mood dipped, lying awake at night, I couldn’t stop thinking of my father and mother who were in the empire, the woods behind the castle from ten years ago, and my brothers taking me up the snowy mountains.
I thought of Uncle Hoover, Aunt Bella, Uncle Pagos—how I had always feared him since I was little but never dared to tell my father that.
I also remembered the famous cake shop in Winter City, run alongside my grandpa by Sister Freya. I recalled how she waved goodbye to me, jumping with joy, and I thought of her name…
So many names and faces of strangers came back to me. The familiar yet forgotten faces became clear now.
I remembered many, many things—times spent at Shanter Castle in Winter City, thoughts of being a mischievous little girl who only dared to act wild at home. Whenever I encountered strangers outside, especially those who looked fierce, like Uncle Pagos, I acted like a frightened little rabbit. So, I never dared to go to the central workshop, feeling it was crawling with rough types.
Lost in thought, sadness would wash over me, making me want to go home… only to realize I was a girl on the brink of adulthood but still not quite there.
If it weren’t for the two years of memory still blank, if it weren’t for that incident three years ago, maybe I would still be blissfully living in the castle, awaiting my coming-of-age day and my future wedding.
Three months later, it would be my birthday…
Would this body…
Ever grow up?
At least a little more in the chest department…
God help me…
…………
Night deepened.
I sat on the terrace’s lounge chair, looking over at the #2 mansion’s glowing lights, munching on my Akri fruit.
Shadows danced at #2, and it seemed busy with movement. The maids were hustling about, but I couldn’t tell what they were up to. I just couldn’t see that golden-haired figure. Even if I felt bored, I wouldn’t go check it out.
Suddenly, a bird flew low over the mansion, and I felt a spark. I released Dead Smoke to consume it, savoring the fleeting pleasure it gave me.
Time flowed quietly.
Before long, after finishing my Akri fruit, I returned to my bedroom to freshen up. Although I wasn’t particularly tired, I climbed into bed, snuffed out the candles, and closed my eyes, waiting for sleep.
The little girl named Aili never showed up.
