Chapter 59
Chapter: 59
-----------------------------------------------------------------
>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 059
>Chapter Title: Sowing (3)
>-----------------------------------------------------------------
>To cut to the chase, Madam Justine was a pretty decent designer, worthy of her reputation.
After the tedious sizing process and some minor adjustments, Seongjin was a bit surprised when he tried on the basted outfit. The finished product looked surprisingly decent.
It was made of flashy fabric that scattered rainbow hues, adorned with large tiger-butterfly patterns and elaborate gemstone embroidery everywhere.
Seongjin had expected it to turn out like some cosmic shaman getup with all those weird elements thrown together, but instead, he found himself gaping at the unexpectedly understated and even somewhat sophisticated final piece.
Madam Justine covered her mouth with her fan and let out a small laugh.
"Hohoho. Your Highness has the looks to pull off a bold design like this."
Was the completion of fashion ultimately the face?
As he marveled at that anew, the madam sidled up and fiddled with the pins stuck in various places on the outfit, continuing,
"It's actually fortunate that Your Highness hasn't ordered your banquet attire yet. We'd have had to remake everything from scratch anyway."
"...Banquet attire?"
His room in the Pearl Palace was already piled high with clothes—did he really need to order more?
"Yes. For the birthday celebrations, you'll need at least five new outfits. Young lords from prominent families often commission ten or more. They snap up all the season's new designs."
"Ten..."
"That's still modest compared to foreign royal events. The Holy Imperial family generally prefers elegant, refined designs, and they don't order in such huge quantities, so clashes in concept are rare."
If you showed up to a royal banquet in something similar to the host family's attire, you'd be branded forever as someone with no manners.
"That's why some places prepare dozens of preliminary designs. If a commissioned outfit happens to match the royal design, the whole batch gets scrapped, no exceptions."
Thus, it was considered virtuous for the royal hosts to decide on their banquet attire as early as possible.
"The birthday is less than a month and a half away. You're already quite late, so why not get everything fitted here while you're at it?"
Snap, snap. Madam Justine tugged firmly at the collar to smooth it out, then scanned Seongjin up and down, humming in satisfaction.
"Hmm, hmm. When I get to dress you personally like this, doesn't the outfit take on a whole different air? If we just send palace staff from the Pearl Palace, even the most skilled ones can't achieve quite this level of satisfaction."
"...If you're that untrusting of them, why not come to the Pearl Palace yourself?"
"I can't enter the imperial palace."
"......?"
Before he could ask what that meant, Madam Justine placed a hand on his shoulder and flashed a bright smile.
"Now, shall we check the basting on the back as well?"
With that, she lightly pushed him around to face the mirror.
"......!"
In that instant, goosebumps prickled across Seongjin's entire body.
What was this?
Why did it feel so unpleasant?
It was like brushing against something empty.
Like encountering something that shouldn't be here...
Noticing Seongjin's suddenly stiff movements, the madam looked down curiously, then spotted his oddly intense expression and flinched, pulling her hand away. She took a step back, and the habitual smile from moments ago was gone from her face.
"......"
Seongjin glared silently at Madam Justine, frozen in place. Something felt terribly off, but he couldn't pinpoint why.
However, seeing the madam's sunken eyes, he was certain she knew exactly why.
A chilling silence.
Lady Claudia, standing by the door, grew flustered by the suddenly heavy atmosphere and called out to him.
"...Your Highness?"
How long had they been staring each other down like that?
Finally, breaking the silence, Madam Justine spoke in a voice that sounded drained and hollow.
"...Your senses are... remarkably sharp."
"......"
"As expected of His Majesty's bloodline... it's different, indeed..."
She hesitated as if wanting to say more, but bit her lip and forced a smile.
"...I'll bring the design sketches."
Lowering her gaze and averting her eyes, she bowed silently to Seongjin.
Then she turned and left the private room, her steps still as light as ever despite everything.
"Your Highness? What was that all about?"
Lady Claudia asked in bewilderment, but Seongjin had no time to answer her—he was busy conversing with the Demon King in his mind.
'...Hey.'
[Yeah?]
'You said that guy was weird earlier? How exactly? Where?'
The Demon King hummed thoughtfully at Seongjin's question.
[Hard to put into words. Uh... it's not something I can pinpoint, but his body feels off somehow? Like it's not moving right. The soul doesn't quite fit—like it's awkward? Or maybe a bit short on life force?]
'...What the hell is that?'
[That's why I said it's hard to explain. Anyway, he feels very different from the people of this world.]
Different from this world's people?
[Yeah. For some reason, he smells like he's from another world. And that world is... ah, right!]
The Demon King, who had been hemming and hawing, suddenly exclaimed as if struck by realization, his tone brightening.
[The Normal Realm! He feels exactly like a human from the Normal Realm!]
Seongjin was stunned by the unexpected answer.
The Normal Realm.
A dimension one step above flame realms like Sigurd 34 Earth or Gehenna.
It followed a massive flow that pierced through dimensions, maintaining utmost stability as a result.
According to the Demon King, Normal Realms typically exhibited standardized forms because all laws of the world adhered to that same flow.
Thus, they had narrow scopes of change, but their foundations were incomparably more solid than flame realms. It was nearly impossible to force open a gate from another dimension and invade.
In other words, things from Normal Realms couldn't easily appear in flame realms or the True Realm.
So how was a human from such a dimension here in Delcross?
[That said, he's not a pure Normal Realm human. Souls from Normal Realms have a unique quality you can spot right away. But his soul isn't much different from Delcross souls.]
That was why the Demon King had struggled to explain.
[His body, though—that's different. Like other Normal Realm things, it's governed by one massive flow. So it doesn't blend properly with this world, giving that awkward sensation.]
There might not be much visible difference on the surface.
But since the very matter composing the body and the laws governing it were different, some discrepancies were bound to show.
For example, mass.
He might be slightly heavier or lighter than other humans.
'Ah, so that's...!'
Only then did Seongjin realize the source of his unease.
The unpleasant feeling from earlier was simply this: his unusually keen senses had detected an oddly improper load applied to the body with just a slight pressure.
A True Realm human with a Normal Realm body. In that case...
'Could he be possessed like me?'
Seongjin, a flame realm human, had become the True Realm's Mores.
Slightly different circumstances, but they shared the commonality of a soul from another world entering a body.
Investigating Madam Justine might yield clues about Seongjin's own condition?
'That makes sense logically...'
But why did it feel so off?
He just wanted to let it drop.
[So, what now? Shall we grill him while we're at it?]
The Demon King asked, but Seongjin shook his head after a moment's thought.
He had escort knights with him. It wasn't the place to suddenly grab the madam and interrogate him about other dimensions.
Moreover, the twins had been the ones to recommend Salon de Mercier in the first place. They probably already knew about the madam.
If the twins knew, then the Holy Emperor must know too. Was there any need for him to stir things up?
Above all, Seongjin felt a strange reluctance to delve deeply into his own current state—an intuition, perhaps.
[Alright, if that's how you feel.]
The Demon King shuddered his soul as if stretching, then continued.
[Anyway, becoming a prince has made you more thoughtful, huh? Normally, you'd just flip the table without overthinking.]
'...Huh?'
[You can't stand not knowing things, right?]
'......'
True enough.
Ah, it felt sticky. He wanted to hurry back to the Pearl Palace and swing the nutcracker around to his heart's content.
Madam Justine returned to the private room shortly after, her face as if nothing had happened, carrying an enormous stack of design books in both hands.
She spread them out everywhere and launched into an enthusiastic explanation of the design concepts, all while maintaining a proper distance from Seongjin.
"Now, Your Highness, how about this design? The sharp, cascading lines blend with angular traditional patterns for such a noble air, don't they? I've named it 'Grand Blade'!"
"Look here, Your Highness. This is 'Moonlight Glory.' It's inspired by the fairy tale of the moon fairy heralding the first Holy Emperor's triumphal return. Aren't the shimmering silver gems just beautiful?"
To Seongjin, they looked like indecipherable scribbles with no clear standard for appreciation.
He responded half-heartedly with a sour expression, but surprisingly, one person got deeply into it.
"A design themed around a triumph might be a bit much for hosting foreign dignitaries..."
"Ah, here the saturation should be a shade darker..."
"This one's good! The restrained mise-en-scène exudes such dignity..."
Lady Claudia. She was into this stuff?
"You're Lady Claudia, right? It's been ages since I met someone who speaks my language. How is it that among knights, there's one with such impeccable fashion sense?"
"Hehe! Back in the day, when I was studying Brittany culture to prep for studying abroad, I got really into it."
"No wonder! I knew it."
"Ehehe."
Their heated discussion, full of perfect chemistry, finalized five banquet outfits in no time. Seongjin didn't even get a chance to chime in.
When the two asked for his final opinion, Seongjin waved his hand dismissively, meaning they should just handle it.
Clothes were clothes—what was there to choose?
Thanks to Lady Claudia, they'd saved time unexpectedly, so he could head back early for training.
With that thought, Seongjin rose from his seat without delay.
"Your Highness."
But as Madam Justine followed them to the entrance of Salon de Mercier to see them off, she approached cautiously and spoke.
"It's hard to explain in detail right here. But I swear by the Lord, this much I can assert."
Leaning in closer, she whispered softly into Seongjin's ear.
"Your Highness, I have long served His Majesty. You can believe that much."
"......"
Seongjin stared at the madam silently.
[Her pulse is steady. Doesn't seem like she's lying.]
The Demon King chimed in from the side.
As he said, the madam's unusually earnest demeanor appeared genuine to Seongjin's eyes.
However...
"Does your inability to enter the palace mean that's Father's will?"
"......"
"Fine. At least I'll believe you're in Father's palm."
Crack. A fissure ran through the solid smile covering Madam Justine's face.
Seongjin glanced at her stiffened expression, snorted inwardly, and boarded the carriage.
Right. As if he'd easily trust someone pretending to be obedient.
From the first moment he'd laid eyes on the madam, his instincts had been on edge—and they were still ringing alarms about her.
* * *
Lady Claudia Bolling was thrilled.
It had been ages since she'd left the palace for the city. Lately, with increased training and heightened palace security, even on off days she was stuck lounging in her quarters.
On top of that, the high-level designs at Salon de Mercier perfectly satisfied her long-dormant aesthetic cravings.
Banquet outfits reflecting her tastes to the fullest. How dashing would Prince Mores look in them!
Lady Maria shot her subtle glances from the side, but Claudia couldn't stop the silly laughs bubbling up now and then.
"Hehe."
Her seniors would have been shocked, but as a newly minted knight, Claudia didn't dislike the Third Prince she served.
Regardless of past rumors, the prince she'd seen was a rare swordsmanship genius who was diligent to boot. He'd slimmed down overnight into a fairy-tale prince.
'Sometimes he has this oddly mature aura beyond his years...'
Oblivious to her thoughts, the young prince gazed out the window with his usual sullen expression.
Meanwhile, the carriage kept stopping and starting, making no real progress. The streets had grown even more crowded as late afternoon approached.
"It'll take quite a while to reach the Pearl Palace. Probably won't thin out until after dinner."
Lady Maria peered outside with a worried face when Prince Mores unexpectedly spoke up.
"Then, since we're already late, how about we just eat first and head back later?"
"Pardon?"
"Eating now and returning when it's quieter will save more time. What do you two want to eat?"
A list of famous eateries flashed through Claudia's mind in an instant—even luxury restaurants way beyond a low knight's salary.
"Exp... expensive places too, Your Highness?"
At her trembling question, the prince nodded readily.
"Wherever you want to eat, we'll go. I'll cover anything."
Waaah! Prince is the best!
But Claudia's excitement didn't last long.
The problem was when a group of Bretons piled into the restaurant where they'd sat down.
They started spouting vulgarities in Breton.
"...Holy Imperial family... piglet... worthless scum..."
"...that sight... Delcross... laughable..."
Having once prepped for Breton study abroad, she caught fragments. They were clearly badmouthing the notoriously spoiled Prince Mores!
Flustered, Claudia glanced at him, but the prince calmly put a small slice of meat in his mouth, unfazed.
'Well, no way the prince knows Breton...'
A relief, perhaps. As Claudia poked at her food, feeling awkward alone,
"...wench... lowborn..."
"...base... lacking class..."
"...whore..."
Now they were insulting Princess Amelia too!
As the slander crossed the line, Claudia's face paled more and more.
Scrape.
Suddenly, Prince Mores pushed back his chair and stood. Claudia, looking up at him in surprise, flinched.
The prince wore a ferociously savage expression, baring his teeth in a grin!
Striding over to the Bretons, Prince Mores said this in flawlessly fluent Breton.
"Come on. Say that bullshit again. You fuckers."