Chapter 41
“It’s not a bad idea. As long as the pay is generous.”
He spread his hand playfully, mimicking the shape of a coin.
“Of course, I plan to compensate as much as possible. But… not right now.”
“And why is that?”
At the dissatisfied tone, Damian raised one corner of his lips.
“…Have you forgotten my position, Alaine?”
Because he was the Crown Prince—was he implying what he said earlier? That instead of trying to understand, Alaine should simply obey? Their gazes collided in midair. But soon, Alaine lowered his eyes. His expression darkened.
“More people than usual have died in the wasteland this year, and those who survived left because they couldn’t make a living.”
Damian fell silent. The atmosphere sank as if covered by an unseen veil.
“The ones who stayed… are those who had no choice. The wasteland keeps expanding, and the treasures lie deeper than before. Under these conditions, it will be difficult to gain their cooperation without the bait of income.”
Damian held his teacup quietly, his thoughts unreadable. All of us glanced at him, unable to drink our tea.
After a moment, Damian lifted the cup and took a sip. Then he looked straight at Alaine.
“May we talk alone for a moment?”
Alaine’s expression stiffened awkwardly. After some hesitation, he nodded.
“Yes, of course.”
Damian looked around the table. I glanced around as well, then rose to my feet.
“So we should step out, right? Alaine, is it okay if we look around the shop?”
“Of course. Please just leave everything where it belongs.”
At his words, the doorkeeper, the head maid, and Fabian all stood up. Leaving our teacups, we moved into the cluttered shop interior.
Now’s my chance.
I looked around, sifting through the scattered items. Most were trinkets or small sculptures.
“Is there something you’re particularly looking for?”
The head maid asked as she approached.
“Are there any books here?”
“Books?”
The doorkeeper spoke up, his face full of confusion. He scanned the shop.
“This place deals with the spoils that treasure hunters bring back. Anything made of paper would’ve rotted away long ago.”
I nodded.
“I know. But recently, I saw a relic in the capital. Like a notebook. Very old, but you could still open it.”
At the word “notebook,” all three—doorkeeper, head maid, and Fabian—looked at me in disbelief.
“…Is that even possible?”
Fabian mumbled to himself. The head maid scolded him.
“Who would dare deceive her Highness? It must have come from another village.”
But even she didn’t look fully convinced. I tilted my head.
“Why that reaction?”
The doorkeeper stepped forward politely.
“Forgive me, Your Highness, but we have never heard of any book being found in the wasteland. Paper cannot survive long outdoors.”
I nodded again. What they said made sense.
“It wasn’t intact. And I’m not expecting to find one here. It would just be nice if we came across even one.”
The letter Mikhail gave me was made of paper yet perfectly clean. But there was no need to mention that.
“They say the ancient empire had magic, right?”
They exchanged glances. I pretended not to see and continued browsing the items.
Most things were metals or ornaments—materials that survived the ages. None of what I sought appeared.
Then something unusual caught my eye.
A locket necklace?
It was small, like a quail egg, with extremely delicate carvings. Tiny orange gemstones shimmered on its brass-colored surface like dawn light.
I opened it. Inside was a portrait of a woman. Her hair curled softly, and with her face turned slightly downward, she appeared refined yet strong.
I brushed my thumb along the edges of the locket. The fine branching lines decorating the frame, the smooth lid… and then I felt something faintly engraved inside.
On closer look, it was ancient script. Slowly, I read the inscription.
“‘Honoring Hecate, the one and only Emperor—she who governs the blazing sun, light and darkness, life and death.’”
Emperor?
I looked back at the portrait. The story of the last emperor I’d read in a legend floated into mind. The last emperor was supposedly male, but the phrase “one and only Emperor” suited that figure.
And strangely… there was something familiar about her. For an old artifact, the necklace was remarkably clean.
“What are you looking at?”
A voice came from behind. I jumped, losing my words. Spinning around, I found Damian standing close—too close.
“Just browsing.”
I stepped aside to put distance between us. Damian glanced at me, then noticed the necklace in my hand.
“You’ve always been interested in things like this?”
“No, it just reminded me of that story we read together.”
He naturally took the necklace from my hand and studied the portrait.
Now that I thought about it… the curly hair resembled mine a little. Not the aura or features—just the hair. I memorized the woman’s face one last time and turned away.
Walking back toward the table, I spoke to Damian.
“Looks like your conversation’s over? There should still be tea left, right?”
“Of course.”
But the voice sounded far away. I turned—Damian wasn’t following me. He was still standing where I left him, holding the necklace.
“Damian?”
He didn’t answer. After a moment, he called out—
“Alaine. Is this necklace for sale?”
Alaine, who had been reheating water, rushed over. I watched them quietly.
Why was Damian suddenly interested in that necklace?
“Ah, yes. It’s still in good shape—the gemstones too. You could replace the portrait if you want.”
Alaine spoke, though sounding uncertain. The engraving on the locket came to mind.
It didn’t seem like something you’d wear casually… yet Damian nodded.
“I’ll buy it.”
A sudden decision. My eyes widened. But Damian’s expression stayed calm as ever.
“Ah, then I’ll prepare the contract…”
“Before that—may I put it on my wife?”
“Ah, y-yes, of course. I’ll get the paperwork.”
Alaine hurried to the counter. Damian and I locked eyes.
“This…”
The chain clinked softly. I brushed my hair back and lifted my chin. Damian reached out and clasped the necklace around my neck.
His fingertips grazed my skin. Everywhere they touched, heat bloomed.
I looked at his lowered eyes, trying to read his thoughts—but couldn’t. My heart thumped.
By evening, Fabian brought us soft bread, salad, and a pot of tomato stew. We gathered around the table and ate.
The savory tomato flavor and tender vegetables melted pleasantly in my mouth. Damian seemed to enjoy the food more than expected.
But the head maid looked troubled watching us eat.
“Was there really nothing better…?”
The doorkeeper silently tore his bread. After the meal, while Fabian and Alaine cleaned up, we sat in the shop and glanced toward the entrance. No customers had come all day.
“Do they even make a profit like this?”
I muttered. Alaine, rinsing the pot, scratched his head.
“Well, it can’t be helped. That’s why I opened the shop in the cheapest district. It’s just enough to keep us fed.”
Damian rested his chin on his hand, staring at the door. Through the small window in it, only darkness showed.
“Looks like today will be a bust.”
“Should I go?”
Fabian stepped forward at Damian’s words. Damian looked at him.
“You know how to ride a horse?”
“Enough not to look ridiculous.”
“Borrow one, then. Have the servants pay the rental fee. And bring back travel funds.”
“Understood.”
Fabian hurried out. The door opened briefly, letting in a foul smell before closing again. I exhaled.
“Did you send him to the manor?”
