Chapter 4
THE EVENING AFTER the incident at the chapel, Rishe was hurrying about the small kitchen of the detached palace. However, she wasn’t preparing food. A sweet, floral smell attracted the attention of a nearby maid, who sneaked up to peek.
“My lady?! What in the world—”
Piles and piles of flowers covered the table. Rishe gave them a little awkward chuckle as she plucked the petals off wilting roses. She had asked Elsie and the other maids to buy up as many unsold bouquets as they could from florists across the city.
“Sorry for the mess. I’ll be sure to clean them up, don’t worry.”
“Erm, sure, but that’s not why I’m surprised!”
Rishe hadn’t stopped with roses. There were orange gerberas and purple gentians. A mass of pink petals was already simmering on the stove.
“Oh! Are you going to dye something?” the maid asked, her face lighting up.
Rishe smiled at her. “I can’t tell you yet. But as soon as I’m finished, all of you will be the first to try it. Of course, I won’t force you if you don’t want to.”
“I’d love to help!” the astute maid answered. “I’m not sure with what yet, but I’ll be happy to.”
“Thanks.”
The maid returned to work, surely wondering what Rishe could possibly be brewing in the pot.
The girl seemed confident, but Rishe doubted she’d ever guess what the bottle sitting on the corner of the table contained. She began to clear up the leaves and stems. Maybe I should let this simmer a bit longer. I’m all done with the petals now.
Rishe sat down, rechecking a piece of paper containing all the information she had copied from various documents during a morning spent cooped up in the library. The population distribution for the imperial capital of Galkhein. The shifts in economic conditions. The state of affairs in surrounding areas and information detailing merchants and tourists. She sank into thought.
Based on this, I’ve come up with a deal to offer Mr. Tully. But I’m not completely happy with it.
She still had five days to go. Her samples should be finished by then, and the information she’d gathered should be enough to assure him of a potential profit, and to come up with a way for calculating interest rates and other such things. Although she was sure of her victory, she wasn’t satisfied.
All of this is publicly available information. She looked again at her writing. The fiancée of the crown prince should know so much more.
Rishe felt that keenly while reading the documents. She knew that Arnold had amassed political power as a result of his various feats during the war three years prior. The first thing he’d done was allocate reparations from other countries to purchase products from rural areas for a huge lump sum.
Although Galkhein had won the war, the victory was only felt by an elite few. The soldiers who fought, the blacksmiths who forged their swords, and the apothecaries who had made medicines for the front lines had all lost their jobs. Many of them sought work in the city—and when there was none to be found, they lived in the slums.
Meanwhile, the countryside had suffered from a labor shortage even during the war. There was no money to pay the wages of the men returning from battle, and the population continued to decline. Productivity in farming and fishing villages went down, heralding a huge spike in food prices nationwide.
Arnold had been taking measures to prevent that.
He used reparation funds to buy up crops and seafood. Once those industries were flush with cash, the jobless workers would begin to return to the countryside. According to the recent travel permit records Rishe had pored over, the strategy seemed to be working—the majority of permits had been granted to those traveling to the countryside to farm and for other similar reasons. People were returning home to find jobs. The supplies Arnold had bought up were offered to the destitute at subsidized prices, filling their bellies.
He’d invested a huge chunk of his own wealth in his scheme, and to show for it he had Galkhein’s increased productivity and rising birth rate. That meant an increase in tax yields and morale.
Rishe had learned all this solely from the documentation. This is the sort of thing you’d never learn from living outside of Galkhein.
The scene from the previous evening continued to play back in her mind. How Arnold had said, “You don’t need to be resolute in becoming my wife.”
What did that even mean? She couldn’t bring herself to ask him. The look on his face was too desolate, and too familiar.
That was exactly how he looked when he killed me.
There were so many things she wanted to know, but she’d held her tongue as he walked away. All she could do was replay the night over and over, remembering how he had kissed her. Rishe flinched at the memory, pressing her forehead to the table.
There wasn’t any deep meaning in that. How could there be? She had to stop thinking about this; she had far more pressing matters to attend to. Rishe squeezed her eyes shut and stood up, giving her cheeks a light pat and shifting her focus back to what was important.
First things first, on to the next step. I need to finish this!
She took the pot off the stove, straining the boiled petals from the liquid, letting them cool down as she readied another pot. Once the petals were no longer scalding hot, she wrapped them in a cloth and wrung them out.
Next, she picked up the glass bottle on the table. Inside was a clear, viscous liquid from the sap of a common tree. She mixed it together with the flower dye, taking care not to form bubbles. Once it was a uniform color, she poured the liquid back into the bottle, rocking it from side to side to settle it. That gave her a small vial of deep pink.