Artifact Appraiser #3
“…Is that really true?”
“Yes. I even went and verified it myself.”
The rich aroma of grilled deodeok still lingered on her tongue—and now this shocking news on top of it.
Iris sat facing her daughter, arms folded, and let out a heavy breath.
“Which means… he’s an exceptionally fine talent.”
“Exactly. He could uncover something entirely new, the way that deodeok appeared this morning, or dig out information through objects.”
“You’re right. All of it is right. But…”
“Is it the fact that he’s human that’s bothering you?”
Freesia asked. Iris fell silent and simply nodded.
Edgar being human weighed on her mind, yes—but there was another problem as well.
The question of his own will.
“That too, but… will the boy even accept it?”
“Wouldn’t it work if we asked him earnestly?”
Not a command—a request.
The one who had given the favor was asking, not the one who had received it.
Even that alone offered a glimpse of how kind Freesia’s nature truly was. Her speech might be a little tomboyish, but it was hard to call that a flaw.
“Very well. Sincerity tends to get through. Give it a try.”
Judging by the confident—or perhaps simply matter-of-fact—way she answered, her chances weren’t zero. Iris trusted her daughter’s abilities, so she merely smiled and gave her permission.
An appraiser, huh.
Edgar blinked at Freesia sitting across from him.
An utterly unexpected proposal had just come flying out of nowhere.
“From what I’ve heard… it sounds like a pretty important job.”
“It is important. We need to know whether there’s any negligence with the tributes so we don’t get played for fools.”
“There are people who try to… play you for fools?”
“People? Calling them people feels a little weird, but anyway—yes, there were. Someone who didn’t want to take a loss and decided to gamble once.”
Freesia smiled, recalling a passage she had read in a history book.
I’ve never seen a setting like this. Interesting.
Games never went into this kind of fine detail. Intrigued, Edgar’s eyes lit up as he asked,
“What happened to that person?”
“Torn limb from limb for the crime of deceiving the Great Chief. If times are hard, you just say so honestly and reduce the tribute or stop sending it. But that wasn’t the case. It was pure greed—trying to deceive the Great Chief and line their own pockets.”
“Wouldn’t that sour relations with that tribe for generations?”
“Oh… you’ve got a pretty sharp eye.”
Freesia’s eyes widened as if she were genuinely surprised. Edgar waved it off with modest humility.
He’d figured anyone who thought about it for a second would reach the same conclusion. And he was right.
“Sharp? It’s a conclusion you can reach with a little thought.”
“Is that so? Still, coming up with it that fast… looks like that brain of yours turns pretty well.”
“You’re too kind. I’m just ordinary.”
“Look at you being modest. Anyway, the conclusion is that relations aren’t bad. I’ll tell you that story another time, but the point is this: we need an appraiser. We already have some, but if a man like you who can know things for certain comes in, so much the better.”
“Thank you for thinking so highly of me.”
Edgar bowed his head, showing both humility and gratitude. A smile bloomed at the corner of Freesia’s lips.
His humility put her in a good mood.
“Anyway, so I’d really like you to do it. From your side it might feel like a burden, but it’s attractive enough to make that worth it.”
Not simply appraising with the eye—the power to read an object’s essence and history.
No other appraiser possessed that ability.
And if that power could be commanded at will, both authority and practical benefit could be seized at once.
This is killing two birds with one stone.
Freesia hid her calculating thoughts and filled her voice with nothing but earnest longing—so that Edgar would consider her proposal even more favorably.
“That’s all I wanted to say. Don’t decide in a rush. Think it over carefully and then give me your answer. And don’t feel pressured just because you owe me.”
Freesia rose from her seat with those words and slowly walked outside.
It wasn’t as if she had no intention of making him feel a little more obligated.
But the part about thinking it over carefully was pure sincerity.
Edgar sensed that, so he didn’t take any real offense—he simply began to consider it in earnest.
Right. I have to repay the favor of being picked up.
If Freesia hadn’t taken him in, he would have died on the roadside.
The heavy coin pouch he still carried, his clothes—everything would have been stripped away.
After that he would have been dumped outside the walls or in some deserted lot to rot.
If that had really happened, it would have been filthy unfair, Edgar thought.
Once a person made up their mind, their actions became swift and decisive.
Thus it was only natural that his footsteps soon turned toward the hall where Freesia was staying.
Before long, Freesia accepted his request for a private audience and asked with a smile,
“Really? You’re really going to do it? This fast?”
“Yes. Staying cooped up in the room forever feels awkward, and if I can repay even a little of the debt I owe this way… all I can say is thank you.”
The treatment given to a mere porter—and a human one at that—had been far too generous.
That alone was enough.
He knows his manners.
Affection rising.
Freesia looked at the proper Edgar with a thoroughly pleased expression.
“Good. Then I’ll take you to your workplace right now. Follow me.”
Freesia set off in high spirits, and Edgar scrambled after her.
Thankfully he had already memorized the rough layout while walking around the palace grounds.
If this had been his first time, the return trip would have been exhausting.
“Here we are.”
Freesia, who had been walking briskly, stopped in front of a building.
In sheer grandeur it was no less impressive than any other hall on the palace grounds.
If anything, it looked even sturdier and more solid.
Servants dressed in green, hanbok-like clothing stood guard before it.
They looked a full degree more robust than any of the Yo clan warriors Edgar had seen so far.
“Where… is this?”
“The Treasure House. A storehouse for precious items, including tributes.”
“What…? Is that true?”
“Of course it is.”
Open it. Freesia gestured to the servant guarding the door.
“Yes.”
The servant answered shortly and flung open the tightly shut black doors.
The massive doors creaked as they swung left and right.
“Whoa…”
The moment the scene inside the Treasure House filled his eyes, Edgar couldn’t help gasping in wonder.
Display stands everywhere, covered in every kind of object imaginable.
The variety was vast, yet not a single piece looked cheap.
Even the plainest, dullest items somehow failed to give off any sense of low value.
“Come in.”
“Ah—yes.”
When Freesia strode forward, Edgar snapped out of it and hurried after her.
She swept her gaze over the treasures as she spoke.
“Everything here has already been verified. But condition can still deteriorate, so check them periodically. Not too often—roughly… once a month? Twice at most.”
“Twice a month doesn’t the interval feel a bit long?”
“It should be fine. These aren’t treasures that spoil easily. And that’s not really the work I want you for anyway.”
As they walked through the spacious Treasure House, they soon arrived at another door.
Come to think of it…
Edgar recalled that another building was attached right beside the Treasure House.
At the same time he guessed this door must lead into it.
Freesia opened the door herself and stepped inside.
It was smaller than the main doors of the Treasure House, looking easier to open and close.
But then—
“It’s completely empty?”
Plenty of display stands, yet not a single actual object.
It was only natural for Edgar to feel a sense of emptiness.
Freesia answered as if it were nothing special.
“This is the sorting floor. All the tributes that arrive are first unpacked and sorted here. That’s why it’s usually empty.”
“Ah… so that’s why it’s empty.”
“Yeah. Truly precious tributes go into the Treasure House; the rest will be moved to ordinary warehouses. Of course you won’t have to haul any of that yourself. Just do the appraising.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”
He might have been a porter, but it wasn’t because he enjoyed the job.
He’d simply come to his senses and found himself serving as both inventory and porter.
Edgar rubbed his chest in genuine relief, and Freesia, who had been watching him sidelong, let out a quiet snort of laughter.
“So you don’t like hauling stuff either, huh?”
“I’m sorry. But I’m only human… I guess the more comfortable work is just more appealing.”
“Yeah. That can happen.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
Why does he go that far?
Freesia kept the smile on her lips as she headed back toward the Treasure House.
Naturally Edgar trailed after her like a puppy.
“Obviously tributes don’t arrive that often. So on ordinary days you just check the items in the Treasure House now and then. An appraiser only gets busy when tributes come in.”
“Then the appraisers who are already here…”
“They loaf around most of the time. But you still need the ability to match the post.”
It somehow felt like looking at election officials who only got busy around presidential elections.
Easy living the rest of the year, then absolute hell the moment campaign season hit—or so he’d heard.
Edgar nodded, recalling things he had seen and heard.
“Ah. I see.”
“Yeah. So don’t feel too burdened. And since you can see things with your own eyes, it’ll be even easier for you, right?”
“That’s true.”
Where an ordinary appraiser had to rely on experience, eye, and all five senses, Edgar simply had to concentrate and grab the object.
In terms of occupational fatigue, it was extremely efficient.
“So when do those tributes arrive?”
Just before leaving the Treasure House, Edgar asked. Freesia stopped walking and paused for a moment.
Then she slowly turned toward him and parted her lips.
“In one month. In autumn.”