Chapter 244 - I Have a Gift

* * *

["... You've torn up the herb garden again, Your Highness."]

["I needed herbs for an experiment."]

["I told you to leave such things to me."]

["Finding the herbs myself is faster and more accurate than summoning you specifically to give you an order."]

["Even if that means I have to spend several times as long putting the herb garden you've ruined back in order?"]

["... In any case, I did nothing wrong."]

Maia realized it.

This was a dream.

["It's all very well to enjoy researching and developing new medicines, but please at least eat your meals properly."]

["Do not worry needlessly. My body is not so frail that missing a few meals will cause problems."]

["Is that really something you should say while you're still growing?"]

["If something does go wrong with my body, I need only treat it with medicine."]

["Your Highness, I've told you time and again that you mustn't take medicine out of habit."]

A dream as old as a rusted box, as vivid as a black-and-white photograph.

Faded, yet warm.

["My daughters have been such little terrors lately. I don't know what to do with them."]

["Is that not because you are always lingering here rather than looking after your daughters, Carla, and have failed to raise them properly?"]

["There are plenty of people who can teach my daughters in my place, but I'm the only one who can attend to you, Your Highness."]

["Hmph. It is not that you are the only one who can attend to me. The others simply avoid me."]

["Please don't feel hurt, Your Highness."]

Even in that dream, as distant as something from centuries ago, a gentle smile and the soft touch of a hand clasping hers felt particularly vivid.

The warmth reaching her, however faintly, through her gloves was so comforting, so cozy...

["Circumstances simply prevent them from serving you. Everyone in the Green Dragon Clan sincerely—cough."]

... That made the chill of the blood spattered on her cheek sink in all the more coldly and sharply.

* * *

Maia felt displeasure the moment she woke.

It was not just because of the dream. The liquid in which she was immersed had lost its original clarity and turned murky.

'... Was it because of the dream?'

Normally, it would only have become translucent.

She gazed coldly at the liquid, now a dull green, then slowly rose from the tank. Wiping it from her body more carefully than usual, she assessed her condition.

A slightly slower pulse. A chill permeating her entire body. Even a faint, mounting pain.

Maia frowned at the state of her body, a little worse than usual in every respect.

'I made a mistake.'

She had been feeling relatively well these past few days, and the problem was that she had grown a little careless about looking after herself.

Having made that dispassionate diagnosis as a physician, she picked up a medicine bottle. Then she hesitated as she was about to take out a pill.

["Your Highness, I've told you time and again that you mustn't take medicine out of habit."]

Perhaps she was not fully awake yet.

For a moment, she remained silent as someone's voice still rang vividly in her mind.

"Hmph. Nagging me needlessly even in my dreams. How very like you."

With a scoff, Maia finally put the medicine bottle away. Then she dressed and tidied her hair.

Her body felt somewhat heavy because she was unwell, but that did not matter.

Other princesses might be different, but for her, the Green Dragon Princess, doing things without an attendant was entirely familiar and natural.

The dream had merely made that everyday fact feel unfamiliar all over again.

A little later, Maia passed through the long corridor leading out of her private chamber and entered the artificial garden as usual, only to stop short.

The presence of someone in a garden that should have been empty, and the astonishing transformation of her surroundings in a single day, made her slowly look around without realizing it.

'This is...'

Where the smooth rear wall had stood, a cliff of jagged, bizarrely shaped rocks now rose.

Below the cliff on her left stretched a magnificent forest with no end in sight. Ahead, several mountain peaks rose through the mist. On her right, the horizon spread beyond the end of a plain.

And instead of the channels in the floor, a slender stream crossed the garden, flowing from a waterfall that cascaded down the cliff.

The scenery was truly fantastical.

For a moment, Maia even wondered whether she had been abducted in her sleep and carried to some remote mountain valley.

But she soon realized that she was mistaken.

It was not merely because she knew no human could abduct her while she slept. Her exceptional eyesight had quickly detected the trick behind the scenery.

'... Sculptures?'

Indeed.

The rocky cliff. The forest made of wood and leaves. The peaks viewed from above beyond the artificial mist. The seemingly vast plain and horizon.

None of it was real. It was all merely sculpture constructed from artificial materials.

Craftsmanship of unimaginable precision combined with optical illusions to create the grandeur of looking down upon the world from a towering cliff.

"Ah, you're awake?"

Too real to be called false, too fantastical to be called real.

After gazing silently at that almost impossibly beautiful scenery, she slowly turned her head.

A young man had been sitting in a corner of the flower beds, carving something with a platinum-colored carving knife. As he rose to his feet, she asked quietly,

"... Was this your doing?"

"Well, if you're asking who made these sculptures, yes, it was me."

"All by yourself, in a single night?"

"At the very least, I don't recall staying up for two nights, or seeing anyone else sculpting here."

It was an absurd answer.

Even setting aside the intricacy, the scale of the carving on just one wall would have required more than a week, even with countless workers.

Doing all of this alone was simply beyond human capability.

Yet Maia did not doubt his claim. She already knew that Limon sculpted at an abnormally fast pace.

What she could not understand was not how, but why.

"Why did you do this?"

"It's the result of faithfully following orders as a slave."

"What do you mean?"

"You're the one who told me to learn sculpting from that sculptor, mistress."

That was certainly true.

Limon had already demonstrated a multitude of talents. She wanted to observe his capacity for learning and see what he could achieve under the tutelage of a truly world-class sculptor.

She had never imagined this spectacle would be the result, however.

"What does that have to do with this?"

"The sculptor told me that my sculptures were perfect, but lacked a human touch."

"A human touch?"

"Things like creativity and individuality."

Technically, Limon's sculpting was already perfect. But everything he had made was modeled on or imitated existing sculptures. Not a single piece could be called an entirely original creation.

Hearing Limon relay Hermann's criticism, Maia narrowed her eyes.

"You mean the difference between imitation and creation?"

"Something like that."

The creativity to attempt something new and a sculptor's unique individuality arose from imperfection. Excessively advanced technique could therefore easily swallow up even creativity and individuality.

In short, the problem was that Limon had been able to sculpt too perfectly from the start.

Unlike sculptors who established their own artistic character through repeated failures, what Limon made remained imitation, however perfect it might be.

"Are you saying an imperfect creation is better than a perfect imitation?"

"He seems to mean that a true sculptor should be capable of perfect creation."

"Hmph. How ridiculous."

Maia sneered.

"Every outstanding, original work has already been made over the course of history. Do you think a pure creation that imitates nothing at all is possible?"

"Well, it would be almost impossible."

Limon shrugged.

Reinterpreting a masterpiece from the past, adapting the moving elements of a work one had seen somewhere...

In the modern age, a creation uninfluenced by any existing work was as absurd as a child born without parents.

"But I do agree with his reasoning that if you use that fact as an excuse to do nothing but copy existing works, you'll only become a sculpting technician, not a sculptor."

Even a machine could produce intricate sculptures.

But just as no one considered a 3D printer an artist merely because it perfectly reproduced its input, becoming a true sculptor whom no one else could replace required something beyond technique. That was Hermann's explanation.

"... And this spectacle is the result of your agreeing with him?"

"Well, more or less."

Limon scratched his cheek, then continued as he looked around at the four walls, made to appear as close to reality as possible.

"If creation is ultimately just a form of imitation, I thought I might try imitating nature itself."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It wasn't that easy."

He had accomplished it in a single night.

But viewed another way, even Limon had needed to stay up all night to make these sculptures.

Which materials should he use, and how should he carve them to make them feel as lifelike as possible in this limited space?

He had needed dozens of rounds of trial and error, testing and improving the various techniques Hermann had taught him.

"Still, it did help me get a feel for it, however vaguely."

Limon shrugged.

Having already experienced something similar while playing the Violin of Deepest Black, he had found it easier to get a feel for this.

Above all, a carving knife was still a blade. Naturally, he was bound to grow proficient faster than with a violin, which he had never held in his life.

As Limon casually said that, at this rate, the carving knife should recognize his qualifications within a few days, a sneer touched Maia's lips.

"I understand the circumstances."

Practicing sculpting all night simply because his mistress had told him to learn—what an exceedingly loyal slave.

Having made that sarcastic remark, she fixed Limon with a sharp glare.

"But why did you choose this particular place to practice?"

"Because I'm a slave, of course."

"Do you mean you wanted to rebel against your mistress because you are a slave?"

"Now, now, what are you saying? Surely a good slave ought to offer anything good to his mistress before anyone else."

"You mean you dared to remodel your mistress's garden without permission for that paltry reason?"

"Do I need another reason?"

Limon smiled cheerfully as he shamelessly countered her question, as though giving his mistress pleasure were surely a slave's duty.

After staring hard at him, Maia spoke coldly.

"You will go without food today."

"Oh dear. Isn't that a little harsh on such a loyal slave?"

"On second thought, today is not enough. You will go without food tomorrow as well."

"Come now, have a little mercy. I've even prepared a gift for you, mistress."

Maia frowned at the unexpected remark. Smiling, Limon held out the object he had been working on until a moment before.

The moment she saw it, Maia's eyebrows rose involuntarily.