Sigrid
Chapter 5

Sigrid’s eyes burned, but she felt refreshed on the inside. She slowly sat up. Going to the kitchen, she turned on the water and washed her face clean. The cold water felt good on her eyes.

You will no longer be my master.

The emperor would not control her any longer.

Whom should I serve?

Sigrid wiped her face with a handkerchief, deciding to give the matter some thought. She didn’t want to rush into a decision. Besides, she was on leave—she’d let her mind rest for the time being. For an entire week, she focused on tidying up her new house from sunrise until bedtime.

After the week had passed, the garden looked pleasant enough for a garden party, and the furniture in the house was glittering, from the candleholders to the chair legs. Even the roof and the storm drains were glossy. Sigrid had also rebuilt the stable, which had been falling apart. The bedsheets and the other linens had been replaced, since she didn’t want to use the old ones.

Surprisingly enough—if it was indeed something to be surprised about—all of Sigrid’s belongings fit into three suitcases, and she was able to move without much difficulty. After she’d put the interior design books she’d bought recently into the bookcase in the study and placed a few household items in their proper places, she was officially done.

Oh, right. I have to pick up my clothes.

Sigrid dusted off her hands and left the house, walking to District 2. When she walked carefully into the shop, Etois welcomed her happily.

“Welcome back.”

“Oh!” someone said, sounding surprised.

Sigrid was taken aback when she turned her head and saw who it was—it was Marichez, another knight from the same order. Her golden hair was tied in a graceful bun, and she wore a dress, apparently not on duty that day. A mocking smile flitted across her face.

“If it isn’t Dame Perfection. What are you doing here? You can’t be here to buy ‘vulgar women’s clothes,’ can you? And you wouldn’t be so excessive as to buy luxurious shirts…”

Her words stung, but Sigrid nodded without complaint.

“I have come to do just that. I ordered some clothes a while ago.”

Etois glanced at the both of them carefully and rushed out with a shopping bag in hand. Marichez seemed nonplussed, her tone rising.

“Then you’re also one of the ‘usual’ female knights, as you liked to put it?”

“You may think that, if you’d like.”

Sigrid’s reactions were making Marichez even angrier. Sigrid paid the remainder of her bill and left the boutique. Or at least she tried to, but Marichez grabbed her arm.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she shouted.

“I’m sorry?”

“I don’t believe it! What a joke! You always acted like we were below you, me and the other female knights, when we wore dresses or decorative shirts. And yet here you are, buying a shirt yourself! Take it back!”

Sigrid stared blankly at her.

Marichez shouted again, “You disdained and slandered us! Apologize!”

Sigrid looked into the woman’s burning navy blue eyes, not sure what to say. She still believed it wasn’t right for knights to wear such things.

“But I still don’t think it’s right for knights to dress like that,” she said honestly.

“What!”

Marichez’s nails were sinking into Sigrid’s wrist, and it was starting to hurt.

“But…” Sigrid added, “I no longer think it’s such a bad thing, either. I’m sorry for being so insulting.”

She then bowed politely, leaving Marichez feeling baffled.

“What nonsense is this? It doesn’t seem right for a knight, but you don’t think ill of it?”

Sigrid stammered, trying to make sense of her reasoning, “I’ve always thought that it wasn’t right for knights to wear luxurious clothing, including dresses. That hasn’t changed. But… I’m starting to wonder these days if it’s truly such a bad thing. Is it worthy of criticism to wear something you want to wear? Maybe it is for a knight to do so, but then again, I don’t see why it should matter…”

“What in the world are you saying?”

Marichez tossed Sigrid’s hand aside.

“What a load of nonsense. How annoying,” she muttered, proceeding to ignore Sigrid from that point on.

Still, Sigrid bowed politely before leaving. Her face burned.

But why is wearing such clothing a bad thing?

That question, which had arisen in her mind, surprised her. Why had she thought of it in a negative light? Knights were paid for their services. Why was it a terrible thing to make use of that money?

Whoever said such things?

Sigrid knew that some male nobles liked to talk about how female knights were extravagant spenders. Now that she thought about it, those men had been wearing fine clothes themselves. Marichez and the other knights did not dress beyond their means, either. They were simply using the money they’d made, as they had a right to do—there was nothing wrong with that. Having denied the thought twice, Sigrid pulled the shopping bag closer into her arms and began to walk even faster.

Wearing good clothes isn’t immoral. It’s not a bad thing to wear clothes you like.

The realization, which had come to her for the first time, made her happy. Forgetting her quarrel with Marichez, Sigrid raced home and changed into her new clothes. The fabric felt completely different against her skin. She did up the glittering copper buttons and stood in front of the mirror, marveling. Everything had been tailored to fit her figure, and it made her look that much better. The pants were made of soft leather and were comfortable to move around in. She didn’t have to make any effort to break them in. And there were no rough seams on the inside that grated against her skin.

“I look pretty good…” she said for the first time while looking into the mirror.

Her reflection was smiling back at her. Sigrid spun in front of the mirror and turned from side to side. The neat seams did not distort while showing off her figure and emphasizing her slim waist. After feeling the smoothness several times, Sigrid took them off and carefully put them in her closet.

* * *

Marichez was fuming as she headed to her opera box. Lowengreen, who had already been seated, looked around in puzzlement.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I just had the most infuriating encounter. You know Sigrid, right? Guess what I found her doing! Buying clothes from a boutique!”

“Sigrid? At a boutique?” Lowengreen asked, putting down her pamphlet and looking up in surprise. She was wearing a lovely pink dress, and was also a knight of the same order.

Marichez gulped down an entire cup of water and said, “That’s right. So I told her that she must be the same as the knights she liked to berate. And she agreed, damn it! She was going on about how it was not right to do what she was doing as a knight, but it somehow wasn’t an offense either… Whatever that means! Talk about double standards! It makes me so angry!”

Lowengreen cocked her head.

“Sigrid isn’t the sort of person to apply double standards.”

Granted, Sigrid could be annoying, but she wasn’t someone with a flexible morality—if something was wrong, she would say it was wrong, no matter who did it.

“And yet, that’s what she said!” Marichez said.

“Did she tell you that you shouldn’t wear pretty clothes, but that she could?”

“No. She said it wasn’t right to wear such clothes as a knight, but that she didn’t think it was a bad thing to do either. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re right. I wonder what she meant by it?” Lowengreen said, thinking.

Marichez pouted.

“I don’t know. I’m willing to bet she was just scraping the barrel for excuses. It’s people like that who ruin public opinion for the rest of us.”

Marichez scoffed, suddenly sitting up straight and leaning out toward the edge of the box. She wanted everyone there to see her new dress. Marichez was the third child of a count, and her family wasn’t rich enough to afford an opera box like this one. It belonged to Lowengreen. Or more precisely, to her family, the House of Alsekidna. The eldest daughter of Marquess Alsekidna considered Marichez’s words carefully as she complimented her on her dress.

“So, you have a new dress. It looks lovely.”

“Yes, it’s a special order from Violet Boutique. The embroidery is quite something, don’t you think?”

“Yes. Very elaborate. Those gems! I think they look better than actual flowers!”

Opera boxes like this one were almost a miniature salon. Having a box showed how influential a family was. That was why Marquess Alsekidna had invested a considerable amount of money when the Ingrid Opera House was built. As a result, he’d received quite a few boxes. Lowengreen was sitting on the inside, not showing herself to the public, but Marichez liked to show off her looks and was greatly confident in them.

“Sigrid does seem quite strange these days,” Lowengreen said.

Marichez turned her head, her back still straight to emphasize her breasts and the grin still on her face.

“What do you mean?”

“She took an extended leave, and even bought new clothes…”

Marichez grinned, slapping her palm with her fan.

“Don’t tell me she’s in love?” she said.

“In love?” Lowengreen repeated.

“Yes. Her type completely loses it when they start dating a man. She’s probably gotten involved with some rake who is sucking her dry.”

Lowengreen frowned at the insult. Sigrid was a natural enemy to Marichez, who loved adorning herself. While Lowengreen could understand Marichez’s ill feelings…

Still, maybe I should pay her a— No. I should just stop thinking about it.

Lowengreen shook her head, asking an attendant to bring more refreshments. What did she care about what Sigrid did? She sank into her chair, hearing the voice of a singer rise piercingly in the opera hall.

* * *

Sigrid sat under a tree in the garden. She was breathing deeply to meditate, and trying to create an aura core. The aura gathered toward the center of her chest, according to her bidding, then scattered. She repeated this many times. After she had done this for some time, some of the aura stayed, but it wasn’t enough to form a core yet.

Even so, Sigrid was happy with the result. It was like rolling a snowball—the first steps were the hardest. Once the core grew a little, and the snowball gained momentum, things would get much easier. She stood and walked through the garden and the terrace before entering the house and changing into a different set of clothes. Then she went to the boutique.

I should bring Echo from the order.

Sigrid was ready to bring her horse back, and that excited her a little. Etois welcomed her, who was now a passable customer, and someone who—oddly enough—ignited a certain passion in the boutique employee. Sigrid had purchased a few more items of clothing in the meantime. She had come today to pick up an order she had placed recently. Etois produced a new shirt, pants, a vest, a jacket, and a cloak, which were all of a different design, and handed them over. She was suggesting a dress as well, but Sigrid had decided she wasn’t ready for one yet.

Besides, I have nowhere to go in a dress.

Sigrid then visited a hat shop. She didn’t have a dress to wear with a hat, which meant she wasn’t buying one. Instead, she purchased hairpins. The ones that were decorated with gems seemed to have no cap on their price, and the only ones she could afford were the cheaper ones. Still, she enjoyed looking at those shiny, glittering accessories.

Adornment, it seemed, was far more entertaining than she’d expected. Sigrid purchased knee-high boots and mid-calf boots with silver decorations. For the first time, she was forced to hire a carriage to get home because of all the bags. It was a novel experience to pay a driver the fare, plus a tip. Sigrid only stopped purchasing clothes after an entire wardrobe had been filled to the brim.

I have an entire wardrobe packed with clothes.

Most people would find a single wardrobe to be not enough, but for Sigrid, filling even one was a unique experience. She opened it constantly, looking at the clothes hanging inside. She dressed herself slowly, a little nervous, since she’d never dressed herself like this. Then she headed to the Second Order’s building. After checking herself in the mirror, she took a deep breath and left the house.

* * *

Morris narrowed his eyes when he noticed a stranger standing in the stable.

“Hey! That horse has an owner,” Morris said.

Sigrid, who had been opening Echo’s stall, turned her head.

“I know. I own this horse.”

“Sigrid?” he asked, surprised and staring and her blankly.

She wore a glossy white shirt, a vest with silver buttons that hugged her figure, expensive-looking leather pants with boots that came to her knees, and even a blue cloak clasped with a silver chain.

“Sigrid…?” Morris asked again, uncertain if it was really her.

“What is it?” she asked, not sure what to make of his reaction.

Morris was nonplussed by her nonchalance.

Why do you sound so unconcerned?

Sigrid Ancertna was someone who dressed so frugally that people often mistook her for a stable boy. But now she was wearing clothing that identified her unmistakably as a knight.

“You bought some new clothes, I see.”

“Oh, yes. I did.” Sigrid’s cheeks colored. She was inspecting herself. “Not bad, is it?”

“No. Not at all. You look great. You should have dressed like that much earlier. Then there would have been fewer misunderstandings.”

“It’s strange,” she said.

“What’s strange?”

“Now that I’m dressed like this… People treat me differently.”