Episode 12: Same Bed, Different Dreams (2)
She only blinked, as if she could not understand why everyone was so shocked.
“Why is everyone reacting this way?
I explained it quite clearly earlier.
Since we don’t know what Rsanda might do, Your Highness must always stay with me.”
“But still… sleeping together is…”
“One is most defenseless while asleep.
I must be right beside you during that vulnerable time.”
At this point, not only Iskandel but the entire delegation began to seriously wonder.
Was this saintess really saying something so dangerous without understanding its implications?
Or did she know exactly what she was saying and was openly propositioning the prince?
Her expression was completely innocent, as if she understood nothing, yet every word out of her mouth blatantly suggested sharing a bed.
Her face was far too pure for it to feel like seduction, though.
‘Either way, this is going to be fun for us to watch.’
Pretending to be absorbed in feeling the curtain, the delegation snickered mischievously.
Watching Iskandel, infamous in the Capital as a twisted degenerate, acting so sensitive was a novel sight.
And the kind, gentle, yet somehow strange saintess was thoroughly entertaining.
Completely misreading the curious stares focused on her, Hashana stretched out her arm and pointed beyond the market.
“The delegation’s lodgings are over there, in the Inner Fortress, past the lower village.”
“…The Inner Fortress?”
“Yes. Where you are standing now is the Outer Fortress. If you pass through the gate beyond the market, you’ll reach the central village, which is the work area. Beyond that is the lower village, where most of the townsfolk live, and you have to pass through one more gate from there to reach the Inner Fortress.”
The delegates wiggled their index fingers as they counted the number of walls that wrapped tightly around the mountain in tiered rings.
One of them asked cautiously,
“Um… so you’re saying that our lodgings are up, and then up again, and then even farther up from here… is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s right! We call the village centered around the temple at the mountaintop the Inner Fortress. The climb will be a little painful at first, but I’m sure you’ll get used to it in a few days.”
The group fell into a stunned silence.
The frail artists looked back and forth between their own legs and each other’s faces, then let out a collective sigh of despair.
Hashana led them into the market alley, happily continuing her explanation.
“Until now, outsiders visiting Durgtah were only allowed as far as the central village. The central village is a commercial area with plazas, warehouses, and various workshops. Many artisans, the lines between their workshops and homes blurred, live in their central village workshops rather than in proper houses.”
The delegation, who could not imagine making it to the mountaintop in a single day, quickly began to strategize.
“Um, if it’s all right with you, could we stay in the central village as well?”
“We truly understand how much trouble the saintess went to in preparing for us, but it feels a bit… excessive to receive such special treatment just because we are a delegation.”
“Um… Am I making you uncomfortable?”
Hashana, who had been in high spirits, asked with her brows drooping in disappointment.
Behind her, Iskandel shot the delegation a look that clearly said they had better handle this tactfully.
The delegates all flapped their red cloaks and waved both hands in denial.
“No, no!
That’s not it at all!”
“It’s just that staying all the way at the top feels a little at odds with the purpose of our delegation.
We are here to mingle with the people of Durgtah and share our customs and cultures, after all.
We thought it might be better to stay where the townsfolk eat, sleep, and live their daily lives.”
“Like the artisans, we are also people who create things.
To be honest, we’re hoping that by living alongside the artisans of Durgtah, we might gain new inspiration.”
They wrapped the sentiment ‘We would rather die than climb all the way up that mountain’ in the most beautiful language they could muster and exchanged meaningful smiles.
‘If we’re far away, His Highness won’t have to worry about appearances and can finally make a move on the saintess.’
Seeing the blatant scheming on their faces, Iskandel’s eyebrow twitched.
He was about to say something about this utterly unwelcome consideration when Hashana, looking a little disappointed, nodded.
There are lodgings in the central village for traveling merchants.
Your Highness, is that all right with you?”
“…My apologies for the trouble, saintess.
My delegation has made you prepare twice.”
He answered Hashana as kindly as he could, then the moment he finished speaking, he glared at the delegation as if he meant to kill them.
A few of the ones especially close to him mischievously gave him a quick wink.
“You always slithered out of things like a snake back in the Capital. Planning a special way to shake off your travel fatigue tonight?”
Reading the expectation and encouragement in their eyes, Iskandel grimaced.
Since the carefully prepared lodgings had become useless, Hashana’s expression was not particularly bright either.
‘I put so much effort into preparing the lodgings while the dancers were buying us time… What a shame.’
For someone with no interest in war, the imperial delegation was a priceless opportunity.
For some time now, Hashana’s mind had been filled with thoughts of improving Durgtah’s bleak environment and giving the townsfolk access to quality culture and art.
Experiencing the art currently in vogue in the Capital had long been one of her cherished dreams.
‘Things like agriculture, technology, and administration, I could somehow manage on my own, but culture and art are a completely different story.’
Hashana looked at the boisterous, free-spirited men with eyes full of regret.
As she watched these people, the likes of whom she had never seen in her life, she sensed the presence of her creator watching her from above and lifted her head.
To Hashana, it was nothing more than a desolate fortress; to the foreign prince, it was a sandcastle.
The pale rock walls rose up beneath a vivid blue sky that greeted her gaze.
Even from this distance, she could feel the violent rage of Rsanda’s energy on her skin.
‘Artists from the Capital are not people we can meet whenever we like.
Because of our position and Rsanda’s temper, they will probably never come again.
I can’t let Rsanda ruin this opportunity.’
Rsanda’s divine power existed solely for war.
Because of that, Hashana, whom Rsanda had created, was also exceptional only in fields applicable to war.
In other words, Durgtah was a city where obsessive practicality was the only value, and there was not a grain of aesthetic sense or sentiment to be found.
Three months.
During the three months the delegation would be staying, she intended to absorb every last drop of imperial culture from these men blessed by Karasvati’s grace.
‘Yes.
I should think of this as things turning out for the best.
The artisans and merchants in the central village are all very sociable.
It won’t take long for them to become close.
Then they’ll naturally learn from one another.’
Once she had quickly sorted out her thoughts, she gave the prince’s hand a gentle tug.
“I’m going to guide the delegation straight to their new lodgings.
Would it be all right if we walked a little faster?”
“…As you wish.”
Once she had secured the approval of the delegation’s leader, a genuine smile returned to her face.
Hashana tightened her grip on Iskandel’s hand and spun lightly on her heel.
Then she raised her voice just enough to reach the delegation, who were still staring around at the unfamiliar sights.
“Once we pass through this market, we’ll reach the central village, so please hold on just a little longer. We’ll prepare your welcome banquet to be even more lavish once you’ve properly shaken off your travel fatigue and recovered your strength.”
This was exactly what they had hoped to hear.
The delegates removed their hats in unison and bowed deeply.
Sweat poured from their foreheads like raindrops.
‘If they would just take off those hats and cloaks, they’d be much less hot.’
Worried they might collapse from dehydration, Hashana quickened her pace.
Overjoyed at the thought of soon being able to rest—and proud to have arranged some private time for the young couple—the delegation followed in high spirits, sweating profusely.
Realizing that the delegation’s stamina was not even on par with that of Durgtah’s children, Hashana waved to the owner of a juice stall the moment she spotted it.
“Could you give each member of the delegation a glass of cold enimu juice? Make it sweet.”
As if they had been waiting for her order, the juice seller and his son quickly loaded glasses of enimu juice onto a large tray and began distributing them with military precision.
Watching even an ordinary merchant and child move like trained soldiers made the corners of Iskandel’s eyes tighten almost imperceptibly.
‘So they even drill children who look to be about ten years old.’
While he carefully observed their surroundings, Hashana downed the drink in her brown earthenware cup in one gulp, then gently urged the hesitant delegation.
“Here, we drink enimu juice like water. It’s especially effective when you feel lightheaded from sweating too much.”
The men eyed the yellow liquid in the shallow earthen cups with suspicion, then began sipping at it with doubtful expressions.
Iskandel, who was more worn out from the heat than he let on, also tossed the juice into his mouth, making excuses to himself.
‘Surely they wouldn’t poison a drink in a place with this many witnesses.’
The drink’s taste and aroma were so excellent that he felt embarrassed for having hesitated.
As the refreshing sweetness spread through his mouth, which had gone dry from the heat and sand-laden wind, he finally felt human again.
When the men’s expressions softened noticeably, Hashana smiled with her eyes as if to say, ‘See?’
“In the Outer Market district, our townsfolk and the traveling merchants all sell their goods. Among the things the traveling merchants bring, there are quite a few interesting items. Let’s browse as we go.”
With her guidance, they entered the heart of the Outer Market.
Between the neat rows of facing buildings, a narrow street shimmered with heat rising from the ground, turning into wavering mirages.
On either side of the road, exotic goods that could not be found in the Capital stretched out endlessly.
In one shop, mounds of yellow, deep pink, and vivid green pigments rose like little hills, and alongside them were heaping piles of spices as brilliantly colored as the pigments themselves.
After they passed the entrance of the street, thick with the sharp scent of spices, they came upon a shop hung with rows of birdcages, a weapons shop, and a farming tools store all pressed shoulder to shoulder.
Beyond that, bolts of the same thin, light fabric Hashana wore fluttered lazily in the faint breeze.
Even Iskandel, whose mood had been sour all this time, could not hide his admiration at the scene, which overflowed with robust vitality.
While he craned his neck like a child seeing the world outside his home for the first time, the people hurrying through the busy market street greeted Hashana warmly and brushed past the delegation with eyes full of curiosity.
‘Aside from a few soldiers glaring like they want to tear us apart, most of them are friendly enough.’
Judging that the hostility stemmed from their clasped hands, Iskandel casually swept his cloak aside so their joined hands would be even more visible.
As expected, the eyes of the glaring soldiers bulged with veins.