Only two weeks remained until the first stage of the empress selection, and every day had been quite busy for Westalia. She had to work in order to eat. She decided to work in an apothecary’s shop because of the extensive knowledge of medicines that came via her specialty in poisons. However, this dubious establishment was filled with dubious products and run by a dubious, middle-aged owner—Daniel.
“Gimmie that! That...”
“Do you have an order to pick up?”
“Y-Yes! Hurry up and bring me my usual! Okay? Make sure it’s wrapped good and tight so no one can see what’s inside,” said a suspicious man who’d entered the store with his hat pulled over his eyes.
“Yes, sir.”
The man had been very concerned with his surroundings before even entering the store, and he still looked fidgety. Westalia checked the list of reservations and pulled out a medicine from the shelf.
“This is the medicine you reserved. Hair regrowth—”
“Don’t say it! I know what it is, so you don’t gotta say it!”
The preparation was a hair regrowth agent made from a mixture of oil extracted from snakes and several medicinal herbs. When this was applied to the scalp, it was said to stimulate the growth of new hair. The effect was only a placebo though.
“Hey, you. You got anything else that’s effective for...y’know?”
“There is a medicine you can take that contains a mixture of peony root and aloe, both of which are said to be beneficial for the scalp.” Westalia refrained from adding on that that, too, was merely a placebo.
“I-I want it! Please give me that too.”
“Thank you very much.”
The man gladly bought that medicine as well and left the store. Just as he went out the door, a strong wind blew and his hat flew off, exposing his forlorn head. He hurriedly put his hat back on and looked back at Westalia awkwardly, so she pretended not to have seen anything and kept her eyes down.
The store sold only unusual medicines that Daniel purchased from here and there, which were otherwise hard to find in the market and were popular among a certain clientele. The products were ones with a limited demand, such as hair regrowth medicines, medicines to make one taller, medicines to make one thinner, and medicines to make one’s breasts bigger, among others. Of course, all of these medicines were only expected to have a placebo effect, so as far as the people of the city were concerned, it didn’t really matter if one actually took them or not.
Daniel had once been an apothecary at the imperial palace and was now famous because of his achievements. He was an excellent apothecary, to be sure, but he was also a research geek with a curious and inquisitive mind. He often spent time in the back of his store looking into medicines he didn’t know the use of.
Paige objected to her working in such a bizarre place, but Westalia was quite happy with the job.
“Good job today, Cordata,” Daniel said as Westalia prepared to leave for the day.
“Um, what’s in that cauldron?” Westalia asked.
“A lizard’s tail, a frog, and a cat’s claw, mixed together with a special potion. Now I’m going to make it into a love potion,” Daniel replied, laughing flippantly as he made another strange medicine. “It’s sort of like a witch’s brew, and it’s pyrophoric. But who’s going to buy it?” Daniel continued, muttering to himself as he picked up a medicine bottle that was rolling on the floor. Just then, the green liquid in the kettle exploded, scorching the shopkeeper’s hair and beard and turning them crispy.
Westalia narrowed her eyes in dismay. “Can you really call that a success?”
“Unquestionably a failure.”
Thus went Westalia’s interesting life as a part-timer.
Compared to her home country of Lhumzia, Archaites was far richer economically and culturally, and the people were kind. The longer she lived here, the more she fell in love with the country.
Westalia headed home from her part-time job, dragging her exhausted body along. The evening sun bathed the buildings and cobblestones in orange.
“Good evening, Cordata! Are you finished with your work?” asked a woman on the street.
“Yes...”
“My husband had a terrible backache, and the poultice I bought at the pharmacy worked surprisingly well. Tell Mr. Daniel thank you.”
“I will. He’ll be pleased,” Westalia said. Surprisingly well...? The woman spoke as if it usually didn’t work at all.
Westalia was approached everywhere she went these days. The people of this country were friendly and hospitable, even to strange foreigners. It was the first time that Westalia, who had been separated from the world, resented, and neglected for so long, had felt warmth from others.
Westalia stopped when she saw a poster hanging in the display window of a clothing shop. The large poster read “The Empress Selection.”
“Hey, what does that paper say?” a little girl asked Westalia. The girl was holding hands with her mother.
“It says ‘The Empress Selection.’ It means that the test to decide the empress of this country is about to take place,” Westalia replied.
“So you wanna be empress?”
“Th-That’s right.”
“Wow! Good luck!” the girl called as she was led away by her mother.
Westalia raised her gaze a bit and saw Le Chantier Palace sitting atop the hill. She wanted to go there. She wanted to go to the center of all this prosperity and regain what she had lost. I still want to be empress. I wonder how beautiful the city looks from such a big palace... she thought. Westalia understood how difficult it would be to whittle down from a large number of candidates to only one. The very thought of what she was going to attempt was anxiety inducing. She might fail and end up worse off for it. However, her longing to become empress had only grown. She could not sit still and do nothing. Even if she was betrayed, she would not be discouraged, and even if it was painful, she would not give up.
When Westalia returned to the mansion, the smell of dinner cooking wafted toward her nose. She put down her packages and went to the kitchen, where Paige was simmering a pot of soup.
“I’m home.”
“Welcome back, mistress,” Paige said, smiling at her. Paige was working as a cargo hauler and should have been much more tired than Westalia, but she didn’t look the least bit fatigued—as one might expect from a woman who had fought in an arena.
“Is there anything I can help with?” Westalia asked.
“Uh, yeah, you can do nothing. It’s for the best.”
“How rude! You make it sound like it’s a nuisance for me to help you.”
“I don’t want to see another pot explode.”
“Ugh...”
“What’s with that sound?”
Westalia frowned as Paige poked at the sore spot. To tell the truth, Westalia had repeatedly exploded her cooking, giving birth to charred, pitch-black creations. At first, Paige had indulged her, but eventually she had run out of patience and banned Westalia from cooking at all. Westalia puffed her cheeks out as she fished around in her bag and pulled out a cookbook. She’d bought it on the way home from work today. Westalia thrust the cookbook right in Paige’s face.
“You’re going to study with this?” Paige asked, laughing.
“Yes. I’m going to make a dish that will impress even the finest chefs, and make you eat your words. Just you wait!”
“Really?” Paige giggled again, looking straight into Westalia’s face as she smiled maliciously. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Westalia blushed and looked away. She’s making fun of me! Westalia put the book down on the table and then moved behind Paige and put both of her hands on the other woman’s shoulders.
“Whoa, what’s with you all of a sudden?!” Paige cried.
“I’m sure your shoulders are stiff from all the heavy lifting you do at work. I thought I’d give them a rub...”
“Heh... Aha ha ha, that tickles! Please st-stop... Ha ha, I’m cooking right now! I’m sorry for making fun of you!”
Before either of them had realized it, the former slave and the evil woman who was supposed to be dead had become friends. The two spent a lively evening joking around with each other.