TMBIPYMEN Chapter 15

I'm going to drown. That's what Layla thought. It wasn't just her throat—she felt water filling her completely, from her windpipe down to the deepest parts of her lungs, bubbles rising.

"How is it? Less dizzy now?"

The sensation vanished the instant she heard Yustar's voice. Layla gasped for air like someone just dragged from the water, her hand flying up to clutch her throat instinctively. The suffocating feeling had disappeared entirely.

She rolled her wide eyes around, taking everything in.

"Are all portals like this? Do you have to jump off cliffs or experience vivid drowning every time?"

Yustar burst out laughing.

"Not all of them, no. There are better ones. More manageable. But, well, I suppose I should warn you that not all of them are. You'll be traveling through portals to various places from now on."

"Are there worse ones than this?"

"There are, yes. But you'll adapt quickly. They're just illusions, after all."

What kind of twisted sense of humor created these things? Layla looked down at her clothes with an expression of disbelief. She'd clearly felt herself plunging into fathomless water, yet not a single drop clung to her—like wandering through some bizarre dream.

"Where are we?"

Layla looked around, then found herself tilting her head back without meaning to. The ceiling stretched so dizzyingly high she could barely stand it. Circular, she thought, but too far away to be certain of its shape.

"Is there a hole in it?"

She'd spotted light pouring down from a point at the very top. Yustar tilted his head back comfortably to look up at the ceiling.

"No, not a hole. If it were a hole... well, imagine the chaos if it rained."

"Glass, then?"

"Something like that, though not exactly glass. I'll explain later. Let's get out of here first."

Yustar gently took her shoulder and guided her forward as he always did. Even so, Layla kept turning back to examine the interior.

Unlike the First Branch they'd just visited, everything here was white or nearly white. Not a single person wandered about. Only the occasional low hum—whirrr—leaked from what looked like mechanical devices.

"This is the capital, isn't it?"

Yustar nodded at her question.

"That's right. Cersita in Venalis, the headquarters of the Tentinella Knights. This is it."

"Is no one here?"

"There are people, but not many permanent staff."

Layla thought for a moment.

"You're the Commander-in-Chief of Tentinella, aren't you?"

Yustar glanced at her with amused eyes.

"What made you think that?"

"The place we just went—the First Branch, named after the god Rommel. The branch chief there showed you deference. Called you 'Lord Yustar.' That means your rank is higher than his. Am I wrong?"

A faint smile touched Yustar's lips.

"You're right. I am the Commander-in-Chief of Tentinella, overseeing all the knight orders. But I'm not always sitting around receiving reports. I have the authority to visit any branch without permission or advance notice, and I can approach Sinks of any magnitude. So I travel constantly. That's why Cersita headquarters always has an empty commander's seat."

"But where are we going now?"

At that moment, the door that had seemed firmly shut swung wide open on both sides. Beyond the thick stone door with its elaborate, old-fashioned relief carvings, soldiers in armor stood at intervals in formation.

That wasn't what startled Layla, though. In the long corridor beyond the door lay a luxurious carpet unlike anything she'd seen in her entire life.

Behind the soldiers, pillars rose at regular intervals, white as freshly fallen snow. Decorative corbels gleamed with every kind of jewel, showing off their brilliant light.

Layla stood there bewildered, her lips parted, murmuring to herself.

"What is this place..."

Yustar grinned and bent at the waist playfully.

"Welcome to Sierrow Royal Palace, Miss Layla Chrysrad."

"The Royal Palace...!"

Layla's body shrank immediately. She glanced down at the hood she wore and the grimy hem of her skirt beneath it, then looked up at Yustar with an expression like she'd been slapped.

"You said the Royal Palace? Here?"

"Yes, that's right. Cersita, Tentinella's headquarters, is connected to Sierrow Royal Palace. The corridor we just passed through."

"Why... what am I doing at the Royal Palace?"

Yustar shrugged.

"Well, for now, you could use a wash with warm water and something to fill your stomach, don't you think? Look, here comes someone to receive you."

Layla's head whipped around.

A woman with a haughty, solemn air walked toward her, chin elegantly raised. She looked somewhat older than Layla or Yustar.

Yustar leaned in and whispered.

"Don't worry, Layla. You look like someone standing in front of a slaughterhouse right now."

"Isn't that what this is? If I accidentally step on that woman's dress, my head will roll."

A short laugh escaped him.

"That won't happen."

Whether Layla wanted it or not, the woman closed the distance until she stood right in front of them. One person would have been burden enough, but seven or eight more people followed behind the woman.

Two of them wore elegant dresses like the woman in front, but the rest—probably palace employees—dressed more simply.

"Your Royal Highness, the Crown's Blood, you have returned."

"Marchioness Hymierd, good to see you alive again this time. Nothing unusual at the palace?"

"No, all has been well."

The woman at the front—the one Yustar had called Marchioness Hymierd—turned her head toward Layla. Her jade-beautiful eyes showed confusion for the briefest moment, but the Marchioness skillfully concealed her feelings.

Yustar said, "This is my guest, Miss Layla Chrysrad."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Chrysrad."

The Marchioness's voice was somewhat stiffer than when she'd greeted Yustar, but not quite rude.

Layla stared down at the hand the Marchioness extended, still looking dazed.

Beautiful gloves covered it, woven from what seemed the thinnest fabric in the world—so translucent her skin nearly showed through. Was she offering a handshake? Layla recalled what state her own hands must be in and quietly bent her knees.

"Hello, I'm Layla Chrysrad."

"You won't shake hands?"

At the Marchioness's monotone question, Layla's cheeks flushed slightly.

"My hands are... dirty."

In that moment, the Marchioness's expression shifted strangely. It looked like mockery, or perhaps pity.

The Marchioness said in a light voice, "Don't worry about something like that."

Before Layla could step back, the Marchioness reached out and snatched the hand hidden beneath the long hood's hem. It was less a handshake than a forced extraction, but either way, Layla exchanged greetings with the Marchioness.

Yustar said, "Marchioness Hymierd, could you prepare bath water, tea, and refreshments for Miss Chrysrad? I need to see His Majesty first."

"Of course."

When the Marchioness bowed gracefully, all the people standing behind her bowed toward Yustar as well. He gave the bewildered Layla a cheerful smile.

"I'll be back shortly. Let the Marchioness help you."

Layla couldn't even answer. Too much information had flooded in at once, leaving her head in chaos.

She'd jumped off a cliff, then been forced to eat some nauseating candy-like thing, and after eating it she'd experienced drowning...

'And this is Sierrow Royal Palace, and all these people are nobles. If I were still in Ridgecarse, I wouldn't even be able to look at them directly. And Yustar is...'

Your Royal Highness the Crown's Blood. The Marchioness had definitely called him that.

"Miss Chrysrad, are you all right? You don't look well. If you're unwell, shall I call servants to carry you?"

At the Marchioness's words, Layla truly felt dizzy.

"No, no... I'm fine. I mean, I'm all right."

"That's a relief. Come this way. You've traveled far, so let's get you some rest first."

The Royal Palace was practically a labyrinth.

Layla tried to memorize the route back just in case, but after the fifth corner she lost all sense of direction.

No wonder—everywhere she looked there were ornate lights and wallpaper, decorative corbels, enormous tapestries, sculptures, and massive reliefs that looked made of real gold and jewels. Too many to count.

For Layla, who'd spent her entire life in the small village of Ridgecarse—and who'd never even properly walked through the village itself—this place was another world entirely.

She gave up trying to memorize the route and stared in wonder at the magnificent chandeliers and portraits painted with what looked like real diamonds.

The Marchioness walked remarkably fast and lightly despite wearing what must have been multiple layers of dress, so Layla had to nearly trot to keep up with her.

"This should be suitable."

The moment the Marchioness finished speaking, the servants flanking the door opened it. They were clearly different people, but with similar hair color and matching clothes, they looked like twins for a moment.

Layla, who'd imagined some small room beyond the door, found herself speechless once again. It was a room, yes, but not any room Layla knew... it could have passed for an entirely new castle.

The Marchioness said something quietly, and the employees at the back hurried off to the left side of the spacious hall. The remaining employees disappeared to the right, and some outside the door.

Layla slowly looked around the interior like someone under a spell, not even knowing who went where.

The widest wall at the front glowed an unbelievably deep honey color. Looking closely, she could see it was made of mineral-like material, cut into pieces and fitted together.

The Marchioness said, "Beautiful wall, isn't it? The entire thing is made of amber."