Chapter 215: A New Friend
That afternoon, Anna hurried back to her father's textile shop. Before she even
crossed the threshold, she could hear the rhythmic, high-pitched groveling that
was her father's signature style.
"Yes, yes! Of course, Your Excellency is absolutely right! I will rectify it
immediately! Complete reform, I promise!"
Anna pushed the door open.
Standing in the center of the shop was a woman dressed in a modest, simple long
dress. Her father was doubled over at the waist, frantically dabbing sweat from
his forehead with a silk handkerchief. The woman caught sight of Anna, offered a
short, enigmatic nod, and turned to leave.
"Papa!" Anna rushed over to steady her father, who looked as if his legs were
about to turn into jelly. "Who was that? Why were you so terrified?"
the portly merchant collapsed into a chair, mopping another layer of sweat from
his brow. "That... that was the 'strange Big Shot' I told you about! She came to
inform me that my shop is under 'administrative review'."
"Review? For what?"
"For everything!" the merchant squeaked, swallowing hard. "She said the Empire
is conducting a sweep of shops with 'inflated pricing models.' Specifically,
businesses with a three-fold profit margin. I'm apparently a 'high-priority
target'!"
Anna blinked, her brow furrowing. "A three-fold profit? Papa, have you been
marking everything up by three hundred percent this whole time?"
"It... it was the industry standard!" the merchant muttered defensively. "In the
old days, every shopkeeper did it! If you didn't mark up goods from the Jade
Territory by three or four times, you weren't a businessman—you were a charity!"
He waved his pudgy arms as if to ward off an invisible ghost, his bravado
deflating instantly. "But the world has changed, Anna. Heaven help us, the
Evernight Empire doesn't play by the old rules. You know The Sunflower Merchant
Guild? The people who own your Home? They've been slashing prices across the
board! That official just told me the new Imperial decree: profit margins are
capped at fifty percent above cost. Absolute maximum!"
Anna did some quick mental math. "Fifty percent? That means we'll only be making
a fraction of what we used to."
"Exactly!" Her father slapped his thigh in despair. "Sigh... the golden days are
over, I tell you."
Watching her father wallow in his financial tragedy, Anna suddenly remembered
her errand. "Wait, Papa, I came here to ask you something important."
"What? If it's about gold, the answer is no! I'm practically a beggar now!"
"It's not about gold!" Anna pulled the tattered doll from her satchel and set it
on the counter. "This morning, someone left this on the doorstep of the
Sunflower House. It looks exactly like the one you threw away when I was a
child."
The merchant squinted at the doll, picking it up with a hesitant hand. "Oh...
this thing..." He scratched his head, his gaze turning distant. "It's been so
long. My memory isn't what it used to be."
"Think, Papa. Where did you throw it? Did you actually bin it?"
"I... wait. I don't think I threw it away," he murmured, a flicker of clarity
returning to his eyes. "I think I gave it to a miner."
"A miner?" Anna's eyes widened. "But you told me it was lost!"
"Did I? Well, maybe I just said that to stop you from crying," her father
muttered. "I remember a miner coming in. Poor fellow, looked absolutely
wretched—covered in coal dust and grime. He said he needed a gift to make
peace with his daughter after a fight. I think... I think I just handed him that
old rag as a charity job, since you didn't want it anymore."
"But... who was he? Where did he live?"
"Enough, enough!" The merchant waved her off impatiently. "That was over ten
years ago! How am I supposed to remember the name of some nameless labor-corpse
from the pits? If you've no more business, get back to your orphans. I have to
figure out how to keep this shop afloat on fifty-percent margins!"
Seeing that her father was useless for further details, Anna gave up. She tucked
the doll back into her robes, bid her grumbling father farewell, and stepped
back into the street.
Her mind was a whirlwind. A miner? Why a miner? What journey had this doll taken
over the last decade to end up back on a doorstep in Leaffall City? Anna felt a
prickle of unease. None of this felt like a coincidence.
By the time she returned to the Sunflower House, the sky had bruised into a deep
twilight. Hilde was in the kitchen, her silhouette backlit by the orange glow of
the hearth.
"You're back?" Hilde called out without turning. "Did you secure everything on
the list?"
"Mmh. The winter coats are sorted," Anna said, setting her basket on the table.
"I talked to my father, too."
"And?"
"He said... he gave the doll to a miner, years ago."
Hilde's spoon slowed. "A miner?"
"Yeah. But he doesn't know anything else." Anna let out a long sigh, reaching
into her robes. "Whatever. It's just an old toy. It's not exactly an Imperial
secret."
She pulled the doll out and tossed it carelessly onto the wooden table. Hilde's
gaze locked onto it. For a reason she couldn't name, the tattered thing pulled
at her heartstrings. It was broken and stained, but it radiated a strange,
lingering warmth.
"Anna..." Hilde said softly, her hand hovering over the doll. "Do you still want
this?"
"Not really," Anna replied with a shrug. "It's been too many years. Looking at
it just makes my head ache with old memories. Besides, I don't exactly have time
for dollies these days."
"Then... can I have it?"
Anna paused, then a mischievous smirk spread across her face. "Oh? Our stern
Head Housekeeper still has a soft spot for rag dolls? I thought you were far too
mature for such trifles."
"Shut up!" Hilde snapped, her cheeks turning a dull pink. She snatched the doll
up and marched toward the kitchen door.
"Hey, I never said it wasn't mine!" Anna called after her, her voice trailing
into a tease. "But if you love it that much, consider it a gift! Don't forget to
cuddle it tonight!"
Hilde didn't answer. She quickened her pace, clutching the doll to her chest as
she retreated to her private room. She shut the door with a firm thud and let
out a long, shaky breath.
She sat on the edge of her narrow bed and held the doll up to the fading light.
The seams were fraying, and the button eye was hanging by a single, desperate
thread. But Hilde didn't see the ruin. She saw a companion.
She reached into the bottom drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a small
sewing kit. With a focused intensity, she began to mend the loose eye. Her
movements were delicate, each stitch a silent prayer. One needle, one thread, a
slow and careful restoration.
Once the eye was secured, she fetched a basin of warm water and a soft cloth.
She spent the next hour gently dabbing away the years of dust and grime. When
she was finished, the doll looked revived. The colors were still muted, the
fabric still worn, but it was clean and carried the faint scent of the Light of
Evernight candles she burned.
Hilde carried the refreshed doll to a small wooden table in the corner of her
room. Sitting there, side-by-side, were two simple charcoal sketches. One
depicted a man in his middle years; the other, a young woman with a kind smile.
They were the portraits of her parents—drawn from the fragments of her own
memory.
Hilde placed the rag doll carefully in the space between the two drawings.
"Papa. Mama."
Hilde reached out, her finger gently tapping the doll's head. A soft, sad smile
touched her lips.
"Look. I've made a new friend."
☆☆☆
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