The Priestess, Sold (2)
A few days later.
“Priestess. It’s almost time. Please prepare yourself.”
“...Yes.”
As always, she wore her usual priestess robes with a milky-white outer garment draped over them.
“Check once more to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything.”
At the voice of Jin-ah, her escort and monitor who had been nagging nonstop since morning, Seoryeong let out a heavy sigh.
Unlike her usual disheveled state, the priestess had gathered her bothersome white hair neatly and tied it with a red ribbon. With a deep exhale, she quietly lifted the black gat and settled it on her head, covering the horns that sprouted there.
“...By the way, Jin-ah, why do you have so much luggage?”
Only then did she notice that Jin-ah had been busily packing bags just like her.
“Aren’t you just handing me over and coming right back?”
Seoryeong asked the question to Jin-ah, who was moving about as if she intended to accompany her the entire way.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Huh?”
“I am your escort, Priestess. Your personal escort, and no one else’s. Therefore, it is only natural that I accompany you.”
Seoryeong’s attitude must have seemed absurd. For once, Jin-ah’s normally expressionless face showed clear bewilderment.
“Jin-ah...”
“Besides, if I’m not there, your hopelessly lazy behavior will be on full display for Lan’s attendants. Do you really think the shrine would allow that?”
Her eyes brimmed with irritation as she declared that without someone constantly nagging at her side, Seoryeong would undoubtedly spend the entire day sprawled out doing nothing.
“...It was my mistake for expecting anything.”
“Indeed. Please abandon any pointless expectations. I am, after all, nothing more than the monitor assigned to you by the shrine.”
“Do people usually say that out loud? What kind of monitor is so shameless about it?”
“With someone like you, Priestess, it makes my job easier if I state it clearly from the start.”
In the end, it seemed nothing would change even in a foreign land. Seoryeong drew in another deep breath from the pit of her stomach and let it out in a long sigh.
“I don’t even know what I was hoping for.”
“Did you say something?”
“It was nothing.”
She grumbled quietly while watching Jin-ah twist her glossy black hair into a small, tight bun, then vanish into the shadows behind her face veil.
* * *
Lan.
One of the two great powers situated on either side of Cheongsin, the nation that worshipped dragons.
“Wow... So this is Lan?”
“Yes. Please refrain from sticking your head out of the carriage window. The priestess is, after all, one of the tributes being offered to His Majesty the Emperor of Lan. It would cause problems if you reveal yourself too openly before the audience.”
Seoryeong’s golden eyes sparkled beneath her veil as she gazed at the scenery visible through the carriage’s slightly open window—a dazzling array of devices and mechanisms never seen in Cheongsin. She was utterly captivated.
Come to think of it, they said that because Lan did not believe in gods or rely on shamanistic arts, their science had developed instead. She pondered this as she watched a strange carriage on the opposite side of the avenue puff out thick white steam and glide forward slowly without any horses.
“How fascinating...”
Not only were the main streets adorned with iron decorations rarely seen in Cheongsin, but the clothing of the people walking about was markedly different as well. Having never left her own country before, every single thing felt new and wondrous to Seoryeong.
“I heard Lan has adopted a great deal of Western culture. It really is true.”
“It only shows they lack any principles of their own.”
“Jin-ah... That sounded exactly like something the old high priest would say.”
Jin-ah had clicked her tongue, claiming they simply accepted foreign culture because they had none of their own. Seoryeong thought to herself:
They won’t be able to say a single word in front of the Emperor of Lan anyway, so what are they so proud about?
It wasn’t just Juryeon, the other great power bordering Cheongsin. She couldn’t understand why those involved in shamanistic practices looked down so much on Western technology.
Isn’t it actually impressive?
Seoryeong’s eyes sparkled again beneath her veil. Building such technology through their own power without depending on divine strength—wasn’t that truly remarkable?
I wonder if my family and the village are doing alright.
At the same time, she worried whether her departure might bring misfortune to her hometown. With an anxious expression, she looked toward the direction where the sun rose—the direction of her home—and offered up a small, silent prayer.
Once I arrive, I should write a letter first thing.
The carriage continued to rattle along to the steady rhythm of horseshoes. Seoryeong held onto her gently swaying tail, combing the white fur at its tip with a small brush.
With a jolt.
Along with the coachman’s voice calming the horses outside, the carriage gave one great shake. Realizing the moment had finally come, she quickly tucked her tail back under her skirt and wrapped it around her leg.
“I will check on the situation. Please wait here a moment.”
“Yes.”
She sat obediently as Jin-ah carefully opened the carriage door and stepped down first. After waiting quietly for a short while...
Knock. Knock.
At the sound of two knocks, Seoryeong recalled the signal she and Jin-ah had agreed upon beforehand and began preparing to exit the carriage.
Two knocks means an immediate audience.
Even His Majesty the King of Cheongsin only granted me an audience twice in five years, and now suddenly it’s the Emperor of Lan. My stomach’s starting to hurt...
As she had always felt, meeting people of high station was incredibly burdensome for the daughter of a simple herbalist.
Maybe I should secretly brew some of my special herbal infusion after this.
If the audience went smoothly, she would look for a stove somewhere and boil a few herbs to drink, just like always.
“Hoo...”
With one hand pressed to her tense chest, Seoryeong carefully stepped down from the carriage.
“Oh...”
“As expected, there was a reason His Majesty showed interest.”
“A foreigner of another race... No, perhaps something slightly different.”
The moment she descended, murmurs rose around her, accompanied by countless stares.
...Uncomfortable.
They had whispered softly, thinking she couldn’t hear, but every word reached her clearly.
Those voices that treated her not as human but as some strange, otherworldly creature.
Hair as white as snow, unlike the gray of the elderly.
Coral-colored golden horns sprouting from her head, visible because she had removed the gat.
And on top of that, golden eyes with long, vertically slit pupils.
The only saving grace was that she wore gloves on both hands, keeping them tucked within her sleeves, and unless she removed her shoes or lifted her outer robe, neither her feet nor her tail would be exposed.
“This way.”
Seoryeong kept her head slightly lowered, refusing to look forward, and followed the guide in silence. She prayed desperately for this dreadful moment to end as quickly as possible.
“Do not be nervous. You will not need to speak or do anything. Should His Majesty happen to ask you a question, answer exactly as we instructed beforehand.”
“Yes.”
One last time, she reviewed the responses prepared in case the Emperor addressed her directly during the audience. Then—
“His Majesty the Emperor arrives—!”
At the announcement, she knelt quietly beside the envoy representative in front of her and bowed her head deeply.
After all, merely looking upon the face of such an exalted person without permission could constitute high treason.
“I see I am somewhat late. You may raise your heads.”
“We are overwhelmed by Your Majesty’s grace.”
A man’s voice drifted down, strangely familiar, as if she had heard it somewhere before. Seoryeong nearly lifted her head without thinking, but she recalled the envoy representative’s desperate explanations—delivered until his voice grew hoarse—and barely managed to suppress the urge.
Unless he specifically calls my name, I must keep my head bowed.
She had endured seven days and nights without proper sleep, drilled relentlessly in imperial etiquette just to prepare for today. Remembering that nightmare, Seoryeong began praying to the heavenly dragon she had never truly believed in.
Please don’t call me. Please don’t call me. I’ll stay perfectly still.
Perhaps her wish had reached the heavens. After the envoy representative finished lavishing the Emperor with every flowery compliment imaginable...
“Barrier Priestess. Raise your head.”
She had prayed so fervently that her name would not be called, yet the heavens remained indifferent. The Emperor’s voice rang out clearly.
“...We are overwhelmed by Your Majesty’s grace.”
Seoryeong politely placed both hands over her stomach, which felt as if it might cave in at any moment. Then, slowly lifting her head while letting the long sleeves of her raised hands drape slightly over her face, she looked up.
Huh... That person... It’s definitely him... the one from the market...
Because there, seated upon the magnificent throne right before her, was the outsider whose eyes had met hers that day in the marketplace.
“The man who kept staring at my ass... Ah.”
What should have remained a private thought somehow slipped out. Before she realized it, she had pointed straight at the Emperor and spoken without permission—an act of utter disrespect.
“...I’m fucked.”