Chapter 9
Nishta skillfully removed the fine hair from her face with thread.
After also thoroughly eliminating all body hair, Siara bathed in a tub filled with fresh flowers and received a massage with perfumed oil.
She drank scented tea all day, and by the afternoon, even her breath had become fragrant.
“Which comb would you prefer?”
Nishta laid out seven combs on a rectangular silver tray and showed them to her.
They were combs made of pure white wood. Siara chose the one carved with a bird.
Nishta immediately applied flower oil to that comb and began to comb her hair.
“From now on, we will train this comb for you, Kasha.”
“You train a comb?”
“A well-maintained wooden comb used for a long time absorbs the scent. In a hurry, just combing your hair with it can impart its own shine and fragrance.”
Her tone was blunt, but her hands were meticulous. A fragrance, as if she were wearing a wreath of flowers, drifted down through her hair.
Nishta tucked white and red rose petals deep within her lush locks, skillfully securing them with hairpins.
When she put on the Rosa next, the thin silk rustled… over her pearl-smooth skin, flowing along the curves of her body before swaying and falling at her feet.
The Rosa was a peach color so close to her skin tone that one might mistakenly think she wore nothing at all.
It would have been better if she could have adorned herself with glass beads…
But a woman’s ornaments could only be owned if given by a man.
Kal Lago had sent basic clothing, perfumes, and maids, but had given no jewelry, leaving a useless sense of regret.
“Bring the mirror.”
Hearing Nishta instruct the maids made her heart flutter.
She knew from her Third Uncle that ‘mirrors’ existed in the city, but Nishta had never shown her one until now.
Finally, she could see her own reflection.
The maids grunted as they dragged over a full-length mirror with lavish goldwork and set it up before her.
Then, they grabbed the white cloth covering it and pulled it away with a flourish.
Is this… me?
Surprised, she touched her face.
The mirror, the first she had ever seen in her life, reflected her image with a clarity incomparable to a shallow stream.
The woman in the mirror had a captivating face, her features perfect as if delicately sculpted.
Her skin was purely white like ewe’s milk, with unusually red, full lips and peach-blushed cheeks that were both fresh and sensual.
Even the impression she gave changed depending on the angle of her face.
Like a diamond whose facets reflect light differently, she could seem innocently pure one moment and exude an intelligent image the next.
Above all, her large eyes…
The mysterious black pupils, slightly upturned at the corners like those of a predator, were enchanting enough to bewitch a person’s very soul.
A shiver ran down her spine, bringing with it a conviction akin to faith.
If she was beautiful to this devastating degree, there was nothing she couldn’t do.
“Kasha.”
She called her name out loud.
Even though it was a name decided on a momentary impulse, it suited the beautiful stranger in the mirror as if she had been born with it.
The plains maiden who used to step outside her mother’s tent while cooking to watch her father and brother breaking in horses.
The second daughter of the Asra chieftain who used to sit beside her sister, chatting and embroidering her father’s sword strap—she was gone.
She was no longer Siara Asra.
She was Kasha.
The sun had set long ago, and the newly lit candles were almost burnt out, yet Kal Lago showed no sign of coming.
[He received the scorpion but had no special message,] Nishta had said.
But even so, after such a provocation, she had expected him to come…
The signs were almost certain that he would ignore her and not come.
Had she provoked him for nothing?
Anxiety made her lips feel parched.
But she couldn’t idly waste time waiting for Kal Lago to visit.
The flicker of interest she had seen when he reached out from his open carriage, even if just for a moment, had been real.
That interest wouldn’t last long, so she had to seize any opportunity before Kal Lago’s attention vanished completely.
Lost in uneasy thoughts, she noticed the candle had burned down to its base, the last flame flickering weakly.
Siara stared at the precarious flame, on the verge of extinguishing, and only gave up when it finally went out, releasing a gray wisp of smoke.
It was no longer evening but had passed into the dead of night.
The only people moving at this hour were the Imperial Palace guards.
All day spent on bathing, hair styling, makeup, and dressing… had all become meaningless.
“Everyone, go and rest.”
Siara coaxed herself to the very end and gave the instruction in a calm tone.
Even so, the maids, who had been waiting on standby for Kal Lago’s visit, withdrew with sleepy faces, hinting at mockery, which wounded her pride.
“Hoo.”
Siara sat in the chair before the full-length mirror and closed her exhausted eyes.
If Kal Lago wouldn’t come to her first, and calling him was useless, what was she to do now?
For a moment, she felt like screaming. Clenching her teeth, she struggled to suppress herself.
She opened her eyes again, her face cold, then flinched—her entire body froze.
Somehow, within the pitch-black full-length mirror, behind her reflection, stood three men.
Her hair stood on end, a chilling fear seeping into her bones, but she was the daughter of a warrior tribe chieftain.
Sialat swiftly reached for her small knife while trying to escape.
But the men’s movements were terrifyingly agile.
Two men swiftly covered her mouth first. Then they forced her onto a large, broad carpet and began to roll it up with her inside, preventing any movement.
“Mmph! Ummph!”
She struggled and resisted desperately. The young man who had been standing still like a commander spoke in an impassive tone.
“Shh.”
It was an eerily quiet voice.
The one cautioning her was a youth in his early twenties with his eyes closed, even in this deep darkness.
A slender, pretty youth with pure white hair instructed in that same detached tone.
“Follow quietly, Kasha.”
Her heart pounded as if it would burst, but inside the dark, stifling carpet, Siara listened calmly.
The two sturdy men, carrying her rolled up in the carpet over a shoulder, were moving as if flying somewhere.
It was clear this situation was on Kal Lago’s orders…
But where were they taking her?
Could it be they were secretly taking her out of the Imperial Palace to discard her?
Her insolent words might have irritated Kal Lago.
That would be fortunate in its own way…
But it was also possible he found this useless existence bothersome and planned to dispose of her quietly in the dead of night.
This possibility felt increasingly likely, and she debated whether to scream now and wake people.
But this was the Fourth Prince’s palace.
It was said no one ventured near the mad prince’s palace, so no one could help her, no one would save her.
Whether from fear, her body, restrained and unable to move within the thick carpet, gradually grew damp with cold sweat.
Thud… Thud…
Soon, perhaps having reached their destination, the three men, who had been running almost soundlessly, stopped simultaneously.
They had arrived faster than expected, and thankfully, they hadn’t left the Imperial Palace grounds.
But even listening carefully, there was only silence.
Not a single faint sound came from beyond the carpet.
Just where was this place?
Her frightened heart beat thump… thump… violently, making her dizzy.
“Euk.”
Suddenly, the carpet was carefully placed on the floor, and the restraints around her body unwound.
Siara tumbled over the ornate blue tiles, rolling one and a half times before stopping, panting.
In the process, the thin, sweat-dampened fabric clung to her skin, and her pale legs were exposed beneath the hitched-up hem of the Rosa.
The long hair, meticulously styled with combing all evening, was also disheveled over her shoulders and back.
Siara lifted her head through the tangled hair.
The room the three men had vanished from was quite dark, with only a single, wide, cauldron-like iron brazier providing faint light and warmth.
Lifting her gaze from the brazier, she saw a massive four-poster bed and…
Within the dense darkness inside the bed, a pair of icy blue lights staring intently at her.
Siara flinched and blinked rapidly.
Kal Lago.
His form, sitting on the bed with one knee raised, stood out darkly against the shadows.
A shiver.
A tremor passed through her, making her body shake.
Kal Lago, seen again after eight days, was far more intimidating than she remembered.
Kal Lago slowly raised his right hand and twitched his finger once.
It was a command to ‘come.’
Her knees trembled, but she fully raised her body from where it lay sprawled on the ornate tiles.
Then, step… step…
Barefoot, she walked towards the bed, staring directly into Kal Lago’s eyes.
