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Chapter 4
“Hmm, you seem to view Us as an all-too-cruel sovereign. I do not slay My subjects without good reason.”
You might not kill without good reason, but you’ll still end up killing us if we fail, won’t you? You literally just said earlier that you’d work me to death like a frayed straw doll until I died of overwork. Sonidor swallowed her unspoken response and stole a side glance at Terry. The Emperor only needed her—the dream artisan. There was no need to get him dragged into this perilously dangerous affair for no good reason.
“Then please leave my assistant out of this matter.”
“What? Absolutely not!”
Terry, whose eyes had gone completely haywire looking at Guard Raizel, glared sharply at Sonidor. Look at this kid, glaring at me now! Raising a child really was all for nothing. Huffing out a furious breath, she glared right back at him. Scanning the two back and forth, the Emperor’s lips curled upward in a satisfied smile.
“That is impossible. He has already heard everything.”
Hey, you kid—he’s saying you’re dead meat too if I fail. Reading the hidden meaning behind the Emperor’s words, Sonidor silently patted Terry’s shoulder. She swallowed a sigh. Since things had turned out this way, she truly had to risk her life and dive headfirst into this. She could only pray that whatever was afflicting His Highness the Crown Prince—be it a curse or a disease—was not too deep.
“Very well. Let us put aside for now what happens in the event of failure. I shall speak of the reward first.”
Pausing briefly, the Emperor stroked his smooth chin with his finger. He had already gathered roughly what they desired through keen intuition.
“First, to your assistant, I shall grant the opportunity to be trained directly by a knight under My personal command.”
“……!”
Terry’s hazel eyes widened round and huge.
As if unable to believe it, his fingers trembled before he suddenly grabbed Sonidor’s shoulders tightly. Shaking her back and forth, he sent her a look asking if he was dreaming right now. Though he was holding back because he was in front of the Emperor, his face looked as though he were ready to jump onto the sofa, dance, and cheer at any second.
“And as for you…… it seems to be money, after all.”
W-Well, it’s not strictly just that, Sonidor muttered inwardly, though she did not dare say it aloud. By now, she seemed to have been branded by the Emperor as a lazy snob, but what made her even sadder was that his assessment wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Well, money is money, but……”
Starting in a hushed, trailing voice, she detached the still-thrilled Terry from her shoulders and continued.
“I won’t even dare ask you to recognize artisans as citizens of the Empire. However, can you guarantee our freedom? That is to say—at least so that we can leave the Empire if we can no longer bear the persecution.”
Money could always be earned, but there was no way she didn’t know that a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like this was unique. Furthermore, as a member of the Decencia tribe, she couldn’t simply turn a blind eye to the artisans who were still enduring baseless insults and oppression.
If possible, she wanted to reclaim their lost land and win back the many rights they had lost over time, but bringing up such an absurd gamble out loud would mean instant death right on the spot.
Frowning slightly, the Emperor spoke.
“Impertinent.”
“My apologies.”
“Fine. If you wake the sole heir to the Empire, what could I possibly refuse you? I want you to know this one thing: as the only existing dream artisan in the Arche Empire, I shall bet everything on you. If you accomplish this task, I will grant the artisans the right to migrate and bestow upon you a fortune that will allow you to live in leisure for the rest of your life.”
It was a statement so heavy that her back felt like it would snap under the weight of the pressure. Forcing herself to inhale as her breath hitched, Sonidor asked cautiously. Unconsciously lowering her stance, she rubbed her hands together briskly like a merchant.
“Um…… if I may ask, by a fortune to live in leisure for the rest of my life, you mean……?”
“How does ten billion Buk sound?”
Heeeeeek!
Sonidor clutched her chest with a gasp that cut off her breath. It was certainly a sum capable of causing severe heart strain to an ordinary, humble citizen. While Terry stole glances at Guard Raizel with a flushing face, Sonidor felt the corners of her mouth twitch as she envisioned ten billion.
Ah, I almost drooled.
“Now then, shall we discuss what happens in the event of failure?”
Falling from heaven to hell happened in an instant. As if slammed onto the ground in a split second, her senses snapped back sharply. With dark, lifeless eyes, she slowly nodded her head.
“You do not need to speak of it; I understand quite clearly.”
“It is well that you know.”
The Emperor gave a faint, picture-perfect smile and said,
“Dream artisan. With your own hands, break the beginning of this curse.”
“Hmm.”
Sonidor stood in front of the mirror, examining her face closely. She might not know about the rest, but her eyes were truly beautiful. Sparkling green irises like dew-kissed grass and big, distinct eye contours. However, her violently wavy orange hair was rather bothersome. No matter how much she tried to tame it, this frizzy hair kept poofing up endlessly. Poof. Poof.
“Argh.”
Ultimately giving up on letting it hang down, she tied her hair up tightly into a single ponytail again. If she rolled it up into a neat bun or braided it down, it might look a bit tidier, but she possessed zero manual dexterity for such things.
She didn’t have anyone to look good for, yet simply because it was the Imperial Palace, she found herself minding her appearance. Sonidor picked out a shirt that had as few lint balls as possible and threw it on, layering a black vest over it. Then she put on a gray coat made of wool along with a matching skirt. Suits like this certainly weren’t clothes women typically wore—though Sonidor wore them every day, going so far as to custom-order them because they were comfortable.
Lastly, she put on magical shoes that instantly made her taller by a full span of a hand. Today as well, Terry clicked his tongue, muttering that she was constantly struggling to hide her short stature. Don’t her feet hurt?
“Don’t I look pretty decent today?”
“You look the exact same as usual.”
“No, look closely. My clothes are neatly ironed without a single wrinkle, and I tied my hair higher than usual.”
“Now that you mention it, I guess so.”
Terry answered half-heartedly as he packed their belongings into a bag imbued with lightweight magic. Sonidor pulled a disgusted face as she looked at the items being shoved endlessly into the bag and at the office, which had suddenly been stripped completely bare. It seemed like he was stuffing in literally every item in the office except for the furniture. Packing things so recklessly—how was he planning to get them out later?
“Are you fleeing a war or something?”
“We might never be able to come back here, you know. It doesn’t hurt to pack up.”
“D-Don’t say such unlucky things.”
Life was full of unpredictable twists and turns. Even as she scolded Terry, Sonidor shuddered when she recalled the Emperor’s chilly gaze. She had to wake the Crown Prince. At all costs. Right now, it wasn’t just her own life on the line, but also Terry’s life, and by extension, the fate of her entire tribe. If the Crown Prince failed to wake up, it would be impossible to keep that fact hidden forever. If rumors spread among the citizens that the curse had returned, there was a very high probability that a gruesome, bloody history—like the great massacre five hundred years ago—would repeat itself.
Recalling the severity of this task that she had tried so hard to ignore, she became gloomy once again. To think that such a heavy responsibility was placed on her, an ordinary citizen. The crushing weight felt like it would suffocate her to death.
It would be wonderful if she had no restrictions on using her abilities like most other artisans, but Sonidor was different. While others bent iron or steel as easily as breathing, she had to groan as if she were at death’s door after entering and leaving a dream just once. Messing with and manipulating a person’s memories or psychology was just that difficult. As a similar example, prophecy artisans who could predict the rise and fall of nations and time artisans who could traverse through time were also burdened with endless limitations when using their powers.
At any rate, that was why she had to move with utmost efficiency once she entered. When she used her ability, the consciousness of the sleeping client and her own consciousness would link together to create a dream in a new space, but that dream world was not something Sonidor could control. To put it simply, it meant that designing the dream world herself was impossible. Everything was created based on what the client had seen, heard, experienced, and felt up until now. It could be the past, the present, a future they hoped for, or perhaps a delusional fantasy world they had secretly imagined in their minds. Sonidor had to run around frantically in a world constructed by the subconscious of a client—a place she knew nothing about.
However, since people who came to request a service usually had a desperate desire at that moment, they inadvertently created a world that was easy for Sonidor to work in, even if they didn’t intend to. Taking her most recent client, Repons, as an example, he had a fierce desire to meet his first love and confess his feelings before he died. He also held deep regret over why he had failed to confess to Leila for so many years. That was why he made the request, and the moment the dream world was created, the setting was formed as the garden where he first met Leila. Sonidor was also able to transform into the image of his first love, whom the client longed for the most.
Achieving it in one go like that only happened when luck was on her side; when her luck was terribly rotten, she would occasionally be dropped into a completely unfamiliar place. Therefore, once she received a request from a client, she had to pry out every possible bit of information about that person—starting from who the surrounding people were and what kind of childhood they had experienced, to their taste in the opposite sex, their hobbies, and the dreams they wanted to fulfill.
Yet right now, Sonidor knew absolutely nothing about the Crown Prince. She only knew rumors passed around second-hand—that he possessed outstanding intelligence, a gentle disposition, and that people anticipated he would become a great, benevolent ruler in the future. Or that he inherited the handsome looks of both the Emperor and the late Empress? She didn’t know what he desperately wished for right now, nor did she even know why he had collapsed—so what on earth was she supposed to do?
Recalling the conversation she had with the Emperor just a few hours ago, Sonidor messied up the hair she had strived so hard to tie up.
“Your Majesty. I have one more condition.”
“What is it? Speak.”
“There must not be a single trace of falsehood or secret kept from me. I need all information regarding His Highness the Crown Prince—starting from his childhood to the people he kept close around him. It is absolutely necessary to awaken His Highness.”
“If it is that sort of thing, there seems to be nothing particular for Us to say. I shall send the records separately later, so once you have read them all, burn them on the spot.”
“Mm…… while such surface records are of course necessary……”
Because of the Emperor, who answered so nonchalantly, she wore a troubled expression. Normally, she could ask the person directly to pry out even the most trivial details, but she couldn’t exactly ask the Crown Prince, who had collapsed and wouldn’t wake up, could she?
“For example, I need even the most minor details, like what he likes and dislikes. Ah! It would be even better if it’s related to the weather.”
“The weather?”
“Yes. For instance, if he hates rainy days very much, and the reason is because of an experience he went through on a rainy day in the past…… or if he has many happy memories on bright, cloudless days, things like that.”
