Chapter 18
“Come to think of it, I heard your trading company mainly deals in fruit?”
“Yes. Since they’re all crops grown directly on our estate, you don’t have to worry about their quality.”
“Damn, quality isn’t the problem! In this cursed winter, just having something edible is blessing enough!”
The man, who introduced himself as the lord of a small territory called Melton, said that with a hearty laugh.
“And merchants—by the gods, they all only care about lining their own pockets! They won’t listen no matter what you say about fair pricing!”
“You’re absolutely right.”
Before anyone realized it, the conversation had turned into mutual complaints about merchants. Though they had just met today, the two were already chatting like old friends.
“So, what do you say? Would you be willing to sign a direct contract with our territory?”
“Wh—what? Truly?”
“However, since my people’s livelihood depends on it, I’d appreciate it if you could maintain the prices we discussed beforehand. Of course, I’ll take into account these extraordinary circumstances and agree to an increase above normal rates.”
“Of course, of course! You won’t be disappointed.”
How heartwarming, she thought.
Everywhere she went, helping hands reached out, and one contract after another was finalized.
This warmth wasn’t merely because the hall was well heated.
At the same time, new messages appeared before her eyes:
– You have successfully engraved the image of the Marceline Trading Company in people’s minds.
– You have prevented the bankruptcy of the Marceline Trading Company.
– You have prevented the famine in Melton.
– You have prevented the famine in Ramos.
– You have prevented the famine in Anemone.
– You have drastically reduced deaths caused by winter famine.
Then came the achievement rewards:
– You have succeeded in leaving a turning point in history.
– Calculating curse alleviation based on contribution.
– The Curse of Forgetfulness has been alleviated by 17%.
– Someone’s memories have completely returned.
– Portions of someone’s memories have returned.
This time, it was two people.
Who could it be this time?
A quiet sense of anticipation stirred in her chest.
* * *
Three days later, after the grand ball had ended and the guests had all returned home—
“Why did you take my side?”
Leaning against the terrace railing, Lora asked quietly.
“Because it was the right thing to do,” Asel replied.
“I knew you were innocent. How could I turn away from that?”
His tone was calm yet resolute.
“I see.”
Lora bowed her head slightly.
At a glance, it looked like a casual response, but beneath it lay a resignation she couldn’t quite hide.
Asel didn’t ask.
He couldn’t bring himself to—how many times had this happened to her before? How many times had she endured loneliness all by herself?
To ask recklessly would have been to treat her pain lightly.
But at the same time, another thought surfaced.
Perhaps…
Perhaps she was the one he’d forgotten.
Ever since he’d realized there was a blank in his memory, Asel had searched every corner of the palace.
If he had forgotten someone, surely there would be traces left behind.
And then—he found that room.
Filled with letters—written, erased, rewritten through sleepless nights.
And gifts, untouched, never delivered.
A room full of affection, preserved like fingerprints on every surface.
It could only mean one thing.
That there had once been someone he loved.
Could that person be…
But he shook his head.
No. It’s too soon to jump to conclusions.
Nothing had been confirmed yet. Letting emotion dictate the answer would be foolish.
“…Your Highness?”
Lora turned back to him, perhaps unnerved by his long silence. Her clear eyes revealed nothing of her thoughts.
Asel quickly gathered his emotions.
“It’s nothing,” he said softly.
He didn’t want to expose this tangled confusion and accidentally wound her.
“Truly, nothing.”
Meanwhile, Lora—who had waited patiently because it seemed Asel was remembering something—couldn’t hide her disappointment.
Again? Still nothing?
She had secretly hoped that, among the two whose memories had returned, Asel might have been one of them.
But it seemed he wasn’t.
Then who were they?
Who are the two?
* * *
At that very moment—
Inside a carriage, Esha was organizing contracts.
Not one or two, but five copies in total—each one from a lord requesting food supply agreements for the winter.
Right, they say it’s best to prepare written contracts in advance so no one can backtrack later.
Even promises that could’ve been sealed with a handshake were instead formalized and stored as “agreements.” There was a reason for that.
Of course, she hadn’t known such things from the start.
Someone had taught her.
Who was it again… that person…?
Each time she tried to recall the memory—something from her childhood—she was overcome by a strange tightness in her chest and a dull headache.
“Are you all right, my lady?”
As she rubbed her temples out of habit, her knight, Loren, asked anxiously.
She didn’t want to worry the person whose duty was to care for her, so she waved it off lightly—
And then a message appeared before her eyes.
– Portions of someone’s memories have returned.
Before she could react, flashes of memory surged through her.
[Why don’t you try running a trading company yourself?]
A soft yet confident voice echoed in her mind.
[No merchant will lower their prices out of sympathy. They won’t suddenly reform into better people, either.]
The speaker was a woman.
When Esha tried to picture her face, all she could see was a shadow, as if it had been blacked out.
Judging by the casual tone and energy, she was likely someone Esha’s own age. But nothing more came to her.
[Sitting around waiting for the merchants to starve won’t suit your temperament, my lady. You’re the type to do something.]
And then Esha realized—
That’s right.
Even the idea of becoming the head of a trading company hadn’t been hers originally.
Someone… helped me get here.
Someone who had guided her life this far—
But she had forgotten them.
Pathetic, she thought bitterly.
“My lady?”
“Just a moment.”
When Esha suddenly stood up, Loren instinctively followed, alarmed.
“Wait—stay here.”
There was something far more urgent than offering reassurance.
Esha stepped out of the carriage and began walking—without direction, just following her feet.
“P–please wait!” Loren called, chasing after her.
And then Esha stopped—she had found her.
“What is it?”
Lora Leweiz turned, pausing mid-step.
Esha hadn’t thought about what to say when she called out, but the cool, piercing gaze that met hers made her shrink back.
Lora didn’t realize it herself, but her calm expression carried a chilling sharpness that could unsettle anyone. The dark rumors surrounding her only intensified that impression.
Esha nearly turned to flee—until she remembered what she’d come for.
“I—I wanted to thank you…”
Yes. No matter who it was—
Even if they were deemed a villain—gratitude deserved to be expressed.
Even that lesson was something she taught me.
Lora blinked in mild surprise, then smiled faintly.
“If you’re talking about earlier, there’s no need to thank me. I only repaid your favor for standing up for me before the princess.”
“That… that was something you did first, wasn’t it?”
Lora paused mid-step.
“I heard everything—you told Her Highness she was being paranoid.”
“Oh dear, I thought no one had caught that,” Lora said with a playful smile.
Though her tone was light, her expression seemed gentler, more at ease than usual.
It was hard to believe this was the same woman burdened by countless vicious rumors.
Then why… does this feel so familiar?
As if she’d found a lost piece of her past, Esha felt a strange, aching nostalgia.
Could this be… the real Lora that no one else has seen?
As the ghost of an old memory overlapped with the woman before her, Esha felt a sudden impulse—
She wanted to be close to her.
Even if it was just a small, fragile connection.
Maybe it could start as something simple—an exchange of thanks, maybe even a bit of business.
“Please tell me what you want. Whatever it is, as long as it’s within my power, I’ll repay you.”
Lora thought for a moment.
And though she seemed to be thinking deeply, her answer was simple.
“Apples.”
Apples?
Not gold, not jewels—just apples?
Or did she mean diamond apples, carved into shape?
But Lora added, with a smile:
“Or any other fruit will do.”
Only then did Esha realize she was serious.
Her mouth fell open in astonishment, while Lora’s lips curved gently.
“My child loves fruit.”
