“Ah, he’s already gone. I wanted to see more of him too.”

Ivet, who had brought a basket of snacks and bread, expressed regret belatedly. The sorcerer had already disappeared.

“A real sorcerer. Well, of course, there are exceptional sorcerers in the Empire too. But still, a sorcerer from Trinidad, it’s quite fascinating. Someone like me might only get a chance to see them once in a lifetime.”

Lysilia comforted Ivet, patting her hand as if understanding her disappointment.

“If you knew, you should have waited a bit.”

“Oh, no, it’s not that. I mean, sorry. I’m sorry, Your Majesty. Because Your Majesty treats me so kindly, I find myself acting out. I’ll be more careful from now on.”

Ivet, who was initially surprised, now didn’t seem so awkward.

“It’s okay. You know I wasn’t born into the imperial family.”

“Oh, what are you talking about! Your Majesty is my only Companion, so, of course, you are the Empress!”

Ivet, who had recovered her composure, asked shyly while glancing around.

“But really… um… so, casually… no, not casually. But, you know, more intimately… No, it sounds too impolite. Ah, what should I say?”

“Familiar sounds good. Treat me more familiarly. I like that.”

“Ugh… really… I’ve never heard such words in my life. It’s unbelievable.”

Ivet, holding Lysilia’s hand, shook her head with an expression of disbelief.

“Can I really do this… Honestly, I envied Len a little.”

“As long as you don’t do it too often.”

“Yes, yes, Your Majesty. I’ll endure it well. But really, holding hands like this feels so nice. It’s warm and soft… Oh, am I saying something strange?”

Ivet, blushing, laughed shyly and let go of Lysilia’s hand.

“Peep.”

At that moment, Pippi flew in from the bedroom with sleepy eyes.

Pippi had various places to sleep, and one of them was a drawer in the middle of Lysilia’s bedroom vanity. Lysilia had emptied one drawer and filled it with soft fabric to create a bed for Pippi.

“Peep says let’s stop talking and go to bed.”

Lysilia said, taking Pippi.

“Oh, today Peep seems to be sleepy all day. I heard you were sleeping when I couldn’t see you.”

“Peep.”

“Today, you used a lot of energy, didn’t you?”

“Ah, I see. You must have been tired.”

Lysilia, petting Pippi’s half-closed eyes, spoke.

“Then, would you like to sleep in the bed first? I need to wash up and change clothes.”

“Peep.”

Leaving a message to come quickly, Pippi returned to the bedroom.

She would probably be lying in the middle of the bed with her small body.

“Then, I’ll prepare the water and nightclothes, Your Majesty.”

Ivet stood up briskly.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Oh no, not at all.”

Not having to conceal the mark made the bathroom routine much easier. Today, after traveling a long distance on a carriage, Lysilia immersed herself in the bathtub. Ivet, excited about the arrival of new soap, enthusiastically assisted with the lathering. The warm water and the clean scent of soap, carried by the breeze, were even pleasant to Lysilia’s nose. Lying in the bathtub, she leisurely tilted her head. ‘Luxurious.’ When she was a prophet, even dreaming was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

There was, of course, no bathtub, and she used to draw water from the well inside the temple for washing. Washing alone in the temple was also considered a luxury. They washed together with cold water alongside dream guides. It was somewhat bearable in the summer, but in winter, tears welled up with each wash. The cold water was harsh on the skin.

Suddenly, a strange thought crossed her mind. ‘Come to think of it, the temple was quite wealthy. Why did I consider it natural not to have a bathtub?’ If one were to name the second wealthiest place after the royal palace in Delarta, it would probably be the temple. Thanks to the healing powers of the priests, money flowed endlessly into the temple. Even in her eyes, it seemed like a business. Lysilia, who had never understood it, often argued fiercely with the high priest.

But for a prophet who spent most of her time dreaming in a confined room, there wasn’t much she could do. She prayed for prophecies about the temple’s lucrative business, but such a thing never happened. ‘It’s a bit frustrating.’ Despite being a prophet, Lysilia couldn’t do anything about it. She had nothing she could possess. The temple only confined Lysilia to her room and let her dream. Ironically, it was the high priest who used the prophecies to make money.

‘Why didn’t I think of that as being trapped back then?’ The answer was simple. She didn’t know. As far as Lysilia could remember, she had been a prophet. She wondered how she became a prophet. Closing her eyes, Lysilia groped through her memories. However, no matter how hard she tried, the starting point of her memory was a windowless room called the prophet’s room. She was very young, and the dark room was always frightening when left alone. So, whenever she was left alone, she yearned for someone to come back urgently. So when that person returned…