Chapter – 18
“So, the Marquis’s trading company mainly deals in fruits, right?”
“Yes, since the produce comes directly from our domain, you need not worry about its quality.”
“Damn it, quality isn’t the issue! In a cursed winter, just having something to chew on is already something to be grateful for!”
The man, introducing himself as Melton, the lord of a minor domain, spoke.
“Besides, merchants… they’re all the same, only looking out for their own profit. I wouldn’t eat their goods even if the price was impossible!”
“That’s true. You’re right.”
Somehow, their conversation naturally flowed into a shared complaint about merchants. Even though they were meeting for the first time, they talked as if they’d known each other for years.
“So, I wonder—would you consider entering a direct contract with our domain?”
“R-Really?”
“Of course, but since the livelihoods of my people are at stake, I’d like the prices to remain as agreed. Of course, considering the exceptional circumstances, I plan to adjust the price slightly higher than usual.”
“Of course. You won’t be disappointed.”
‘How heartwarming.’
One by one, helping hands approached, and contracts were concluded one after another.
This warmth wasn’t just from the heated hall. At the same time, messages appeared:
- You have successfully established Marcelline Trading’s reputation.
- You prevented Marcelline Trading from going bankrupt.
- You prevented famine in Melton.
- You prevented famine in Ramos.
- You prevented famine in Anemone…
- You successfully reduced the number of winter famine casualties.
Next came achievement rewards:
- You have succeeded in leaving a turning point in history.
- Calculating curse mitigation based on achievement contribution.
- The Curse of Oblivion has been mitigated by 17%.
- Someone’s memory has fully returned.
- Someone’s memory has partially returned.
This time, it’s two people.
‘Who could have remembered me this time?’
A strange kind of anticipation grew.
Three days of the ball had ended, and everyone had left.
“Why did you take my side?”
Leaning on the terrace railing with her arms crossed, Laura asked.
“Because it was the right thing to do.”
Ascel answered.
“How could I ignore the Marquis’s innocence?”
Firm yet calm.
“I see.”
Laura responded lightly, bending slightly. On the surface, it seemed like she was brushing off her emotions with a small smile, yet there was an unmistakable trace of resignation.
Ascel could not ask further. How many times had this happened? How many times had she endured loneliness alone? Asking rashly might make it seem like he was belittling her suffering.
At the same time, he considered a thought:
“Perhaps…”
Perhaps she was the person he had forgotten—the one lost in the Curse of Oblivion.
Recently sensing a gap in his memory, Ascel had wandered throughout the palace, looking for traces. If he had forgotten something, surely something remained.
Then he discovered that room.
Filled with letters painstakingly written, erased, and rewritten for someone, and gifts that had never been delivered.
A room filled with the warmth of unspoken affection.
All of it meant one thing: he had someone he loved.
‘Perhaps that person…’
Ascel shook his head, cutting the thought short.
‘No, it’s too early to assume.’
Nothing had been fully revealed; to let emotion dictate conclusions would be reckless.
“…Your Highness?”
Perhaps the silence had lasted too long.
Laura looked back at him, her clear eyes betraying nothing.
Ascel hurriedly reined in his feelings.
“No.”
He didn’t want to reveal these tangled emotions and risk hurting her.
“Nothing at all.”
Meanwhile, Laura had been waiting to see what Ascel might recall.
‘What, not this time either?’
Her lips twisted in disappointment. Two people had been freed from the Curse of Oblivion, so she had hoped one might be Ascel.
Now she was curious.
‘Then who are they?’
Those two people.
At the same time, Esha was in a carriage, organizing contracts.
Not just one, but five copies—contracts with lords requesting winter food supplies.
‘I suppose it’s true what they say about keeping contracts in writing, to prevent anyone from changing their mind.’
Even though verbal agreements suffice, written documents, formalized as contracts, exist for a reason.
She hadn’t known all this from the start; someone had passed this knowledge onto her.
‘Who was it…?’
Chasing memories from her childhood brought a strange pressure and headache each time.
“Are you alright?”
As she rubbed her forehead out of habit, Knight Loren asked anxiously.
She hesitated to worry the person whose care was her responsibility.
- Someone’s memory partially returns.
Unreadable letters flashed before her eyes, and memories began to return in a rush.
[Why not try managing the trading company directly?]
A soft yet firm voice reminded her of reality.
[Complaining won’t make middlemen lower their prices. They won’t suddenly become better people.]
The speaker was a woman.
She couldn’t make out her face—only a shadowy impression remained, as if smeared by ink. Only her light tone and the sense that she was of a similar age could be guessed.
[Rather than sitting by and waiting for the merchants to starve, doing something is more in line with your character.]
Suddenly, Esha realized.
‘Yes, that’s right.’
Even the decision to become a trading company owner had not been entirely her own.
‘…Someone made me who I am today.’
Someone had existed, yet she had forgotten.
‘How pathetic.’
“Milady?”
“Wait a moment.”
Esha stood and Loren instinctively reacted.
“Wait. Stay here.”
There were more urgent matters than reassurance.
Esha jumped out of the carriage and walked without a clear destination, following where her feet led her.
“Excuse me!”
She finally found who she was looking for.
“What is it?”
Laura Ruweiz stopped and looked back.
Esha froze as their gazes met. Though Laura might not realize it, her expression carried a coldness that was almost terrifying.
Rumors surrounding her made Esha instinctively shrink.
She considered giving an excuse and leaving, but quickly realized she had to speak.
“T-Thank you…”
Yes, one should always acknowledge a favor, no matter who it comes from.
‘Even that was something that person had taught me.’
Laura’s eyes widened in surprise, then she smiled.
“If you mean earlier, there’s no need to thank me. I only defended you in front of the princess, as repayment for your favor.”
“But that was something you did for me first, wasn’t it?”
Laura stopped, turning back.
“I heard what you said about the princess—that it was paranoia.”
Caught.
Her tone feigned embarrassment, but Laura’s expression was softer than usual, almost gentle.
Could this really be the same woman known for spreading rumors?
‘Then why does she feel so familiar?’
A shadow of lost memories stirred a nostalgic feeling in Esha. She wondered if she was imagining it.
Perhaps this was Laura’s true face, the one no one else had seen.
When that memory overlapped with the shadow of a past recollection, Esha felt an impulse:
She wanted to get closer to her.
‘Even a small, trivial connection would be enough.’
Perhaps the start could be a simple exchange of gifts.
“Please tell me what you want. Anything I can do, I’ll do to repay you.”
Laura pondered for a while, deep in thought, yet her answer was simple:
“An apology.”
‘A real apology, not a gold nugget or a diamond?’
Or did she mean a fruit-shaped diamond?
Laura added:
“Or another fruit would be fine.”
Only then did Esha realize she wasn’t joking, and she stood there, dumbfounded.
Laura smiled lightly.
‘Our child eats fruits well, after all.’
