Sigrid

Despite Sigrid’s confident assertion, Marigold agreed skeptically to send workers the next day. Sigrid nodded. She had planned to get fitted for a cloak today, but the morning’s activities had drained her energy, so she headed to a bookstore instead of the clothing shop. When Sigrid entered, the bookstore owner looked at her as if she were a troublesome customer and didn’t greet her.

This was because Sigrid always came to the bookstore to read books without ever buying one. But today, she was different. She picked up several magazines and books related to gardening and interior design and headed to the counter. The bookstore owner rang her up with a surprised expression, and Sigrid left the store with the heavy books.

She considered taking a carriage but still felt it was a waste of money. Sigrid walked briskly back to the 3rd District carrying the books. For dinner, she drank tea with milk and sugar, then opened the books. Books had always been in the realm of luxury items she would never purchase due to their high price, but having made the big decision to buy them, Sigrid was determined to use them effectively. As she read, she changed her mind: ‘I shouldn’t throw away all the furniture in that house.’

‘Furniture is expensive…….’

She thought that since most of the furniture was in good condition, she should clean it thoroughly and reuse it. Come to think of it, all the dishes were still there too…….

It seemed that while valuables had all been auctioned off, items of little monetary value were left behind. Or perhaps they had given up because of the ghosts.

Given that the bloodstains were still there, the latter possibility seemed more likely. Deciding to keep as much as possible in its original state, Sigrid delved back into her books.

‘This month’s rent is ending…….’

With her small room having no deposit, it would end if she didn’t renew it monthly. Sigrid decided to move her belongings to the new place bit by bit.

The next morning, still waking up early, she headed to her new house. The cleaning workers arrived almost simultaneously, all looking somewhat anxious.

“Is it really okay?”

“Even if we can’t work because it comes out again, you’ll still have to pay us in full.”

Sigrid simply replied, “Of course,” and opened the door. The workers entered cautiously. But truly, nothing happened, and they began their work, marveling at the situation.

“Should we throw away all the furniture too?”

“No, please leave everything as is except for what’s soaked in blood or broken.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The workers loaded the ruined furniture onto the wagon they had brought, breaking it up. They chopped up the wooden floors soaked in blood with axes, stripping it all away. They tore off the wallpaper and scrubbed the blood from the stone walls. They threw away all the trash and swept thoroughly. By the time the evening sun set, the house was sparkling clean.

While at it, she also ordered new windows. The workers agreed to come back the next day to finish up and left.

Sigrid proudly inspected the cleaned house. The living room floor on the first floor was completely exposed, but it still gave off an elegant feel. At the back were a connected kitchen and servant’s room, and on the other side was the bathroom, which Sigrid liked best about this house. The marble bathtub and copper pipes were a sight to behold. She also liked the bathroom’s furnace built to heat water. And the backyard, though currently in a terrible state, would become a wonderful space once the weeds were pulled and the overgrown trees were trimmed.

‘And the second floor isn’t bad either.’

Of the three rooms on the second floor, two were bedrooms and one was a study. Not a single book remained in the study, leaving only desolate bookshelves, but that was enough.

‘This is now my house.’

Still finding it hard to believe, Sigrid walked around the house several times, opening and closing doors, touching and stroking things repeatedly.

‘Will this change things?’

Will my life change just because I bought a house like this?

Sigrid lay down on the cold floor and looked up at the ceiling.

“Your Majesty.”

She softly called out to the person who had been her master.

―Die for Us.

There was a ‘self that couldn’t understand’ those words. She could die for him. Sigrid was willing to die for her master, for the Emperor. But not like that. Not by being framed for treason, being disgraced, miserably tortured, and having her head cut off on the guillotine. For treason, her naked body and head would surely have been hung on the city walls, pelted with stones until they rotted.

‘Why did I end up being framed for treason?’

Sigrid carefully traced back her past. There were limits to her recollection because she had moved only according to the Emperor’s orders, blocking her eyes and ears. But she could still clearly remember the court battle.

‘They said I killed the Crown Prince. That I joined hands with the Second Prince to kill the Crown Prince and try to usurp the throne…….’

But why was that for the Emperor’s sake?

How was the Crown Prince dying and the Second Prince being executed for treason good for the Emperor? Isn’t losing two heirs bad for the imperial family? Of course, there were other princes left, but…….

‘My head hurts.’

Trying to think about something she had never considered before made her head throb. But having come back to before her execution, she didn’t want to live without knowing why she died. Thinking about it now, it was absurd that she didn’t even know the reason for her death.

‘What’s more painful is.’

Sigrid smiled bitterly and covered her face with both hands.

‘That I was a disposable card.’

The most miserable thing was that she had been someone who could die like that.

She wanted to be acknowledged.

She wanted to be recognized.

She wanted to be a precious person.

A sneer escaped her lips, which soon turned into crying.

Sigrid sobbed miserably. She cried and cried, feeling wretched and heartbroken that all her efforts had been for nothing. After crying for a long time until she was exhausted, she felt somewhat refreshed.

Her eyes were burning and hot, but her chest felt cool. Sigrid slowly got up. She went to the kitchen, turned on the water, and washed her face thoroughly. The cold water felt good on her eyes.

‘I won’t make you my master anymore.’

Sigrid vowed. The Emperor was no longer her master.

Then who should she make her master?

Sigrid decided to think about it slowly as she wiped the water from her face with a handkerchief. She didn’t want to make a hasty choice, and she didn’t want to think about anything stressful for a while, as she was on vacation anyway.

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For a whole week, Sigrid was absorbed in organizing and cleaning the house from dawn until she fell asleep at night. By the end of the week, the garden was fresh enough to host a tea party right away, the furniture inside the house sparkled from the candlesticks to the chair legs, and even the roof and gutters shone. She even rebuilt the collapsing stable. Sigrid replaced all the bedding, as she felt uncomfortable using items that others had used. Surprisingly(?), all her belongings fit into just three travel bags, so she was able to bring them over without much difficulty.

After placing the recently purchased interior design books on the study’s bookshelf, organizing her uniform and clothes, and putting some household items in their proper places, she was done.

‘Ah, right. I should go pick up my clothes.’

Sigrid dusted off her hands and headed to the 2nd District. As she carefully entered the shop, Etoile greeted her cheerfully.

“Welcome, ma’am.”

“Oh my?”

Turning towards the surprised voice, Sigrid was taken aback. Standing there was Marie-Chez from the same knight order. With her blonde hair elegantly styled and wearing a dress, presumably on her day off, Marie-Chez’s face bore a sneering smile.

“What brings Lady Ankertna, who should be setting an example for others, here? Surely you’re not here to get fitted for vulgar women’s clothes… Nor are you the type to buy excessively luxurious shirts…”

Marie-Chez’s sarcasm stung Sigrid. However, she simply acknowledged it.

“I’m here to buy shirts that are too luxurious. I ordered them a while ago.”

Etoile, sensing the tension between the two, quickly came out from the back with a shopping bag. Marie-Chez, incredulous, raised her voice.

“So you’re just another one of those female knights now, aren’t you?”

“You can think that if you like.”

Marie-Chez’s anger grew at Sigrid’s response. Sigrid paid the remaining balance and tried to leave the clothing shop. Or rather, she tried to. Marie-Chez grabbed Sigrid’s arm and shouted.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Pardon?”

“I can’t believe this, you’re ridiculous. You acted like we were vulgar when other female knights or I wore dresses or decorative shirts, but now you come here to buy shirts yourself. Take back what you said!”

When Sigrid stared blankly at Marie-Chez, she shouted again.

“About us being ‘those women’ or vulgar! Apologize right now!”

Sigrid looked at Marie-Chez’s blazing navy blue eyes, unsure of what to do. No, in truth, she still felt that it wasn’t right for a knight.

“No, I still don’t think it’s right for a knight.”

“What?!”

The nails of Marie-Chez’s hand digging into Sigrid’s wrist were starting to hurt.

But―

Sigrid added.

“However, I no longer think it’s wrong either. So, I’m sorry for judging you negatively.”

Seeing Sigrid bow her head politely, Marie-Chez felt deflated.

“What nonsense are you talking about? Not right for a knight but not wrong?”

At her words, Sigrid slowly began to articulate her thoughts, which weren’t fully organized even to herself.

“I’ve always thought that luxurious attire or dresses weren’t right for a knight, and I still think so― but lately I’ve been wondering, ‘Is it really wrong?’ Is it wrong to wear clothes that you like? It might be bad for a knight, but how should I put it… I wonder why it would be wrong…”

“What are you even saying? Really.”

Marie-Chez let go of Sigrid’s wrist as if throwing it away.

“Talking nonsense. How irritating.”

Marie-Chez muttered and ignored Sigrid. Sigrid still bowed slightly to her and left the clothing shop. Her face was burning.

―Why would it be wrong?

But she was surprised by the question she had raised herself. Why had she thought it was wrong? Knights receive a salary. Why is it wrong to spend that salary as one wishes within their means?

Who said such things?

Some noble men had said such things. That the extravagance of female knights had reached its peak. But thinking about it now, those who said such things were also wearing fancy clothes. And when it came down to it, Marie-Chez and other knights weren’t really wearing excessively luxurious clothes. They were simply consuming what they had earned legitimately.

It’s not wrong.

Using this double negative, Sigrid hugged the shopping bag tightly and started walking faster.

Wearing good clothes isn’t wrong. Wearing clothes you like isn’t wrong.

This realization, which came to her for the first time, gave Sigrid a strange joy. Forgetting about her quarrel with Marie-Chez, Sigrid ran home, opened the shopping bag, and quickly tried on the clothes. The feel against her skin was completely different. Fastening the shiny brass buttons and standing in front of the mirror, Sigrid admired the clothes in amazement. The clothes tailored to her figure made her stand out even more. The pants made of soft leather were also comfortable to move in. There was no need to struggle to break them in. The inside seams didn’t irritate her skin.

“Pretty…….”

Sigrid uttered those words aloud for the first time as she looked in the mirror. She saw herself smiling in the reflection. She twirled once in front of the mirror and twisted her body this way and that. The neat sewing lines showed off her figure without distortion and accentuated her slim waist. After touching the smooth clothes several times, Sigrid carefully took them off and hung them in the wardrobe.

Marie-Chez headed towards the opera box, fuming. Lowengrin, who was already seated, looked at Marie-Chez with a puzzled expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just had the most infuriating experience. You know Sigrid, right? Guess what she was doing? She was getting clothes fitted at a clothing shop.”

“Sigrid? At a clothing shop?”

Lowengrin, surprised, put down the pamphlet she was reading and looked up. Lowengrin, wearing an elegant pink dress, was also a member of the same knight order. Marie-Chez drank a full glass of water before speaking.

“Yes, so I said, ‘Oh, so you’re one of those knights too?’ And she said, yes, she’s one of those knights too? I mean, she spouted some nonsense about how it might not be right as a knight but it’s not wrong either. It’s adultery when others do it, but romance when she does it? It’s really irritating.”

Lowengrin tilted her head.

“Sigrid isn’t the type to apply different standards, though?”

While she was an annoying person, she wasn’t someone who applied double standards. She wasn’t the type to say that something was wrong when others did it but right when she did it.

“But she did!”

“Did she say it’s wrong for you to wear such clothes but not wrong for her to wear them?”

“No, not exactly. She said it’s not right for a knight, but she doesn’t think it’s wrong. What does that even mean?”

“You’re right, what does that mean?”

Lowengrin fell into deep thought. Marie-Chez pouted and said:

“I don’t know, she’s probably just making excuses with nonsense. Anyway, people like her ruin the reputation of female knights.”

Snorting, Marie-Chez puffed out her chest and leaned towards the edge of the box seat. She was showing off her newly bought dress to the public. Marie-Chez, as the third child of a count’s family, wasn’t from a family large enough to purchase an opera box like this. This box belonged to Lowengrin. Or more precisely, to the Alsekidna family. Lowengrin, the eldest daughter of the Alsekidna viscounty, pondered Marie-Chez’s words as she complimented her dress.

“Is that a new dress? It’s pretty.”

“Yes, I had it specially made at the Violet Clothing Shop. Isn’t the embroidery here beautiful?”

“It is, it’s so delicately made. With the jewels, it’s even prettier than real flowers.”

These opera boxes were like small salons. Owning a box meant that the family had that much power. So when this Ingrid Opera House was built, the Alsekidna viscounty invested a considerable sum and in return acquired quite a few boxes. Lowengrin sat inside, out of view of others, but Marie-Chez liked to show off her beauty, and she had the confidence to do so.

“But Sigrid has certainly been acting strange lately.”

At Lowengrin’s words, Marie-Chez turned her head. However, her posture, with her chest thrust out, and her beaming expression remained unchanged.

“How so?”

“She took a long vacation, didn’t she? And now she’s even buying new clothes…….”

Marie-Chez chuckled and lightly tapped her palm with her fan as she spoke.

“Maybe she’s fallen for someone?”

“Someone she likes?”

“Yes, you know how those types lose their minds when they get a lover. She’s probably being swindled by some low-quality man.”

Lowengrin frowned at the sarcastic remark. Sigrid was like a natural enemy to Marie-Chez, who loved to dress up, and while her ill feelings were understandable…

‘Maybe I should go see her― No, let’s just ignore it.’

Lowengrin shook her head and ordered her attendant to bring more refreshments. What did it matter what Sigrid did? Lowengrin settled deep into her chair, listening to the high notes of the singer’s voice.

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Sigrid sat under a tree in the garden. Repeatedly taking deep breaths and exhaling for meditation, she tried to create an Aura Core. The Aura gathered around her solar plexus at her call, then dispersed, over and over. After a while, some Aura remained in her solar plexus, but it wasn’t enough to generate a core yet.

But Sigrid was satisfied with even this small accumulation. Like building a snowball, creating the initial nucleus was the hardest part, and once the nucleus grew to a certain size, the rest became much easier. Rising from her spot, Sigrid walked through the garden and terrace, entered the house, and changed her clothes. Then she headed to the clothing shop.

‘I should bring Echo from the knight order.’

Having finished preparations to bring her horse, Sigrid felt a bit excited. At the clothing shop, Etoile welcomed Sigrid, who had become a small but decent—and strangely inspiring—customer. In the meantime, Sigrid had had several fittings. Today, she came to pick up clothes she had ordered recently. Etoile handed Sigrid new shirts, pants, vests, jackets, and cloaks of different designs one by one. Lately, Etoile had been urging Sigrid to get dresses fitted as well, but Sigrid still felt dresses were too much.

‘It’s not like I have anywhere to wear them anyway.’

Next, Sigrid stopped by the hat shop. Although it was called a hat shop, since she didn’t have dresses, she wasn’t buying hats; instead, she purchased hairpins and ornamental hairpins. The ones with jewels rose in price endlessly, so Sigrid could only afford the cheaper ones. Still, it was nice to look at the sparkling, beautiful items.

Dressing up turned out to be much more enjoyable than she had thought. She also bought long boots and mid-calf boots with silver decorations, and for the first time, called for a carriage due to the amount of luggage, heading home.

Paying the coachman who unloaded her luggage, including a tip, was also a novel experience.

Sigrid only stopped buying clothes after completely filling one wardrobe.

‘The wardrobe is full of clothes.’

While one wardrobe might not be enough for most people, for Sigrid, filling even one wardrobe was astonishing. She opened and closed the wardrobe several times, gazing at the neatly hung clothes.

She slowly got dressed. It was her first time going to the knight order dressed like this, so she felt nervous. After checking her appearance in the mirror, Sigrid took a deep breath and left the house.

Morris narrowed his eyes as he saw an unfamiliar person standing by the stable.

“Hey, that horse has an owner.”

At Morris’s words, Sigrid, who was opening the door to the stall where Echo was kept, turned her head and said:

“I know, I’m the owner.”

“Sigrid?”

Morris stared blankly at Sigrid in surprise. The shiny white shirt, the silver-buttoned vest that clung to her body, the expensive-looking leather pants, knee-high boots, and the blue cloak connected with a silver chain that Sigrid was wearing…

“…Sigrid?”

Made him confirm again that it was her.

“What?”

Sigrid asked back, puzzled. Morris was dumbfounded by her nonchalance. What does she mean, ‘What?’ It’s because Sigrid Ankertna, who was often mistaken for a stable hand due to her clothes, was now wearing attire that clearly showed she was a knight.

“You bought new clothes.”

“Ah, yes. I did.”

At Morris’s words, Sigrid’s cheeks turned red. She looked herself over and asked:

“Doesn’t it look okay?”

“Uh- yeah, it looks great. If you had dressed like this from the start, you wouldn’t have been misunderstood.”

“It’s strange.”

“What’s strange?”

“When I dress like this… people treat me differently.”

Sigrid tilted her head as if she had had an interesting experience. Everyone addressed her politely as “Sir Knight.” They made way for her, opened doors for her, and treated her with the respect befitting her position. It was an experience she had never had when she used to wear just a shabby shirt and pants. Morris shrugged.

“Of course they do.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, there’s no one who can see through to your essence at a glance. Of course, they can only judge you by your appearance. You identify other knights by the insignia on their clothes too, don’t you?”

“That’s true.”

Seeing Sigrid nod in agreement so readily, Morris felt truly strange.

“Why are you being so agreeable?”

“Huh?”

“Usually, you’d say that judging people by their appearance isn’t the right way for a knight.”

“Because you said it.”

“…What?”

“You, Morris, wouldn’t say anything that would harm me.”

Sigrid looked straight at him as she spoke. Morris was at a loss for words, not knowing how to take her statement.

Sigrid still remembered when he had offered to help her escape. She remembered Morris crying when he saw her in a miserable state from torture.

She also remembered him getting angry when she refused to escape for his sake, asking if she was still talking about what was right in this situation. So there was no way Morris would say strange things to her or recommend anything problematic.

When Morris didn’t respond, Sigrid asked, puzzled:

“Would you?”

“No, of course I wouldn’t, but……”