Chapter 304: The Tin Knight and The Invitation of Memories (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 304: The Tin Knight and The Invitation of Memories (4)
“But do you have any money?”
I want to buy some clothes.
That was the first thing Tip said after hearing Dorothea’s objective.
“Why? Do I look like I don’t?”
The corners of Dorothea’s mouth twisted in displeasure.
Realizing she was quite upset, Tip quickly waved his hands and hastily explained himself.
“No, don’t get me wrong! It’s just, well, when people come all the way to a big city to buy clothes, they’re usually looking for something fancy. And that stuff is expensive.”
“Don’t they sell any clothes that aren’t expensive?”
“Of course they do, but for regular clothes, it’s more common to buy them at a market that opens every so often, rather than from a shop.”
“…”
So, I could have just waited for one of those markets to open in any decent-sized town instead of coming all this way?
Two options arose and clashed in Dorothea’s young mind.
Admit that everything she’d done so far was a waste of time + Become the kid who doesn’t even know the common sense that a street urchin getting beat up would.
VS
Become the kid who had a reason to come all this way because she was after expensive clothes from the start.
She made her choice in an instant.
“Of course, I have money. I came here to buy something expensive in the first place. Not rags like these.”
As Dorothea jingled the pouch at her waist, Tip nodded but hesitated, as if he had something more to say.
“I see. But, um.”
Dorothea tensed. Has he found me out?
“You shouldn’t just jingle your money around like that. The wrong kind of people might target you. And it’s not good to keep it all in one place. If you get pickpocketed, you’ll lose it all at once. You should hide it in different places on your body. Like in the sole of your shoe.”
Relieved that she hadn’t been found out, Dorothea sighed inwardly.
“It’s fine. I can protect myself.”
“…Right, you were amazing earlier. Then I’ll guide you—Ugh.”
Tip tried to take a step but grimaced.
The pain, which he hadn’t properly registered due to the rapid turn of events, seemed to be hitting him now.
Dorothea clicked her tongue, tsking at the sight of Tip (it wasn’t a gesture a thirteen-year-old would normally make, but children tend to learn from the adults they live with), and pulled an ointment from a different pouch, handing it to him.
She had given one container to a village woman on her way here, but since she often got minor scrapes during her errands, Dorothea always kept a generous supply of ointment.
“Put it on your face.”
“Huh? No, it’s okay. It’ll get better on its own. Medicine is expensive.”
“Just use it. If you walk around like that, it’ll look like I beat you up and am dragging you around.”
“Ah, so that’s why…”
Tip nodded as if he understood.
It was true that Dorothea had a rather strong presence, and the image of a street-tough kid suited her quite well.
Tip applied the ointment, which was in a seashell container, to his sore spots. He was startled by a sensation like bugs crawling on his skin, but soon felt the pain rapidly fade, and his eyes lit up.
“Dorothy, you’re really amazing. You’re strong. And you know how to make stuff like this.”
“I guess.”
Despite the praise, Dorothea didn’t seem particularly pleased.
In those days, she had a strong tendency to measure herself against her master, the Witch of the East, so she didn’t consider her own knowledge or magic to be anything special.
Tip was puzzled, but he didn’t ask her anything more.
After walking through the city together for a while, Tip stopped in front of a certain shop.
“This is the most expensive and luxurious clothing store in the city. The owner even makes house calls to noble families to sell her clothes.”
Dorothea tilted her head.
“If it’s a clothing store, shouldn’t the customers come to it? Why does the owner go to them?”
“Huh?”
Tip was visibly flustered, clearly not expecting such a question.
“Uh, well? Isn’t it because they’re nobles?”
“Is that how it is?”
“I think so, probably.”
“…What are you two doing in front of my shop?”
Perhaps their chatter in front of the store had been too conspicuous.
A woman had opened the door at some point and was now looking down at the two children with a strange expression.
A low-cut dress, a waist-cinching corset, and a scarf draped over her shoulders.
The woman, with her mature beauty and decadent allure, seemed less like a seamstress and more like someone who ran a nightlife establishment, but Dorothea, who had never properly been to either, didn’t notice the problem or the difference.
“Ooh.”
She could only marvel, So that’s what ‘luxurious clothes’ look like.
The clothes of the people she had seen until now were mostly drab gray or yellowish-brown, but the woman in the corset dress of mixed red and black looked incredibly glamorous and beautiful.
“Uh…”
Tip, whose level of common sense was higher than Dorothea’s, panicked, thinking, Did I bring her to the wrong place? But in truth, Tip himself had only ever seen fancy clothing stores from a distance and had never actually been to one, so he hesitated, unsure if this was normal or not.
“Hmm.”
Meanwhile, the owner of the tailor shop slowly raised the corners of her lips into a smile.
She was a seamstress of considerable skill, and she possessed a confidence to match.
However, her main clientele consisted of noblewomen or wealthy young ladies trying to instantly captivate men they fancied, so it was quite rare for her to receive such an admiring gaze from a child.
The woman, who had been about to shoo the two kids away for disturbing her business, changed her mind and spoke.
“Are you here to look at clothes?”
Dorothea nodded.
“Yes. Do you have small clothes?”
“Even if we don’t, I can make them, so don’t worry about that. The question is whether you have the money.”
“Is this enough?”
Dorothea held out her money pouch to the woman.
It wasn’t her entire fortune… just about a third of it.
Though Dorothea wasn’t very skilled at bartering, she knew instinctively that there was nothing to be gained by revealing everything she had from the start.
The woman peered into Dorothea’s pouch and frowned.
Dorothea thought, Is it too little?
“…Little miss, are you perhaps the daughter of some noble family? Or are your parents part of a famous merchant company?”
“No.”
“Then why so much… Hah, never mind. Prying into a customer’s business is just a loss for me. Anyway, are you going to pay with all of this?”
“Can I buy something without paying all of it?”
“It depends on what you want, but you’ll most likely have some left over.”
“What about something like the dress you’re wearing now?”
At Dorothea’s words, the woman made a reluctant face.
“…If you really want it, I suppose I could make it, but isn’t it a bit too mature for you, missy?”
“? Then when would it be okay?”
“Well, maybe in about five or six years?”
“Hmph. Fine, whatever. In that case, I’ll take something more conventional. But make it black.”
“If that’s what you want, I have just the thing.”
The woman grinned and led Dorothea deep into the shop.
Tip sat awkwardly on a chair near the entrance, waiting.
Some time passed.
“Alright, the measurements seem to be adjusted well. What do you think? Do you like it?”
At the woman’s words, Dorothea examined her reflection in the mirror.
What the woman put Dorothea in was a type of clothing that, in the Tin Knight’s vernacular, would be called Gothic fashion.
The woman was certainly a bit ahead of her time.
“It’s a bit frilly and cumbersome…”
“That cumbersome part is what makes it fashionable, dear.”
“Really?”
In truth, Dorothea had almost no real concept of fashion.
Since the expert woman said so, and since it looked much better to her eyes than the drab clothes people wore outside, Dorothea nodded in agreement.
The woman was in a good mood, having managed to get rid of a dress that had become dead stock after an old nobleman—who had ordered it for his young bride nearly 40 years his junior—died from blood pressure issues after being exposed to the cold morning air. Dorothea, who had finally gotten a proper set of clothes, was also in a good mood. And Tip, though he felt something was a bit off about the whole situation, decided to just keep his mouth shut.
“Little miss. This is a gift. It won’t be of any use to you now, but take a look at it later.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a book about very, very historic and popular fashions.”
The woman was generously gifting a tragic item she had ambitiously prepared for promotion, which hadn’t even earned back its printing costs.
Truthfully, for a merchant of this era, such lip service was a basic skill, so it was hard to say the woman was particularly shameless.
After the enjoyable (?) shopping trip at the store.
Dorothea spoke to Tip with a slightly excited air.
“Thanks for guiding me. I got my business done safely because of you.”
“…”
Tip couldn’t bring himself to speak easily.
It had been faintly noticeable even when she was wearing clothes barely better than rags, but now, dressed in an outfit that was certainly luxurious and beautiful—even if her taste was a bit peculiar—Dorothea’s beauty was outstanding.
Tip felt a great distance open up between them, a gap he hadn’t noticed when they were both wearing shabby clothes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ah, it’s nothing. I’m glad I could help.”
Tip asked cautiously.
“Will we see each other again?”
Dorothea answered simply.
“I’ll probably stop by again if I need new clothes. I don’t know if you’ll still be here then, though.”
“I see.”
Tip nodded.
And that was it.
They hadn’t been deeply connected to begin with, so Tip couldn’t bring himself to ask her to come back just to see him.
I don’t care if it’s years from now. Please, just let me see her one more time. Oh, Heavenly God. Please, just this once, grant my wish.
Praying like this was the best Tip could do.
Then again, God had never once answered a prayer in Tip’s life.
But was this, too, a whim of God? Or was it simply someone’s terrible misfortune?
“Huh? Dorothy?”
“…Yeah, we’ve met again a little sooner than expected.”
Exactly one week later.
Dorothea returned, her magnificent gothic dress completely decayed as if it were decades old due to necromancy, looking shabby and blushing with embarrassment.
Tip broke out in a cold sweat.
Man, that wish was granted way too fast.