The Queen’s Cosmetician

A long day. It was as if they were swallowed by torrents.

I finished talking about everything, dissolved it, went back to my room and dived into my blanket, but my eyes blinded me and I'm not going to sleep. Tomorrow was the Sabbath, but it didn't mean I could sleep. Close your eyes hard to get some sleep and repeat your sleep. But as it was, the moment passed, and I finally gave up sleeping.

Get up and put your barefoot down on the floor. He walked over to his costume in a peppered footsteps, and Die opened a drawer in the lower section.

There is a cosmetic case so that it can be buried in underwear.

Of spiral craftsmanship, which is my mother's vision.

Turn around and sit on the edge of the bedroom. I put the box on my lap and Die opened the lid.

What is contained would not be enough to take from the eyes of others. But for Die, all of it was something he couldn't throw away.

Take one of them, a painting the size of a palm, with a finger in the box.

Asma gave me that, that my father drew.

Close the lid and return the box to its original location. Sleeve through the jacket taken out of the box and hold the painting aside, Die put on his shoes and headed outside.

Between the annex and the main building, where the servant resides, there is a watchtower. It's a tower that connects the two halls like a crossing. He stopped his leg in that space, usually just passing, and the die pointed his toe at the spiral staircase mounted on the wall. Grab the railing and ascend making sure every step of the way through the floor (the squeak).

Arriving in an attic only as tall as a child. If you open the door installed on the ceiling, it's on the roof.

"Wow."

Bu, and.

A strong wind shook Die's hair.

The hem of the jacket flicks and makes a sound of bulge. Holding him firmly in his chest so as not to drop the picture of his father he had brought out, Die stepped out on the roof.

On the rooftops that are regularly inspected, a path is made that allows one person to pass through. Carefully proceeded not to step off his feet, and Die lowered his hips in a scenic spot.

Is the dawn near, or the color of the sky closer to the herd than the dark color. The top of the mountain range on the side of the castle is slightly white, with a thin claw trace-like moon peeking into his face.

Near the walls, the glittering place is the flower district. It won't be long now, it will be around the end of the day.

The city is quiet to fall asleep in. The only time I was stirred by strong winds was when I went out on the roof, and now the periphery remains silent. When it comes to moving things, it's about a bird flying out of the woods in the yard of the Mizweeri family. It was huge for the birds you see at dawn and an unusual bird away from the herd.

The silence broke my footsteps.

Die looked back to his surprise. There is a shadow walking over the roof.

"... what are you doing? Here."

"What's wrong with Heath? It's before dawn."

"I'll return the words exactly as they were."

The man, who stopped next to the die, shrugged his shoulders and looked up into the sky.

"Not really, with what I couldn't sleep. Change your mood.... you too?

"Yes.... maybe I'm feeling high"

Too many things are exhausting. I guess the reason I can't sleep is because I'm feeling high.

I couldn't find a word to keep going, and Die turned to the city with his mouth shut. Take whatever painting you had on your lap and squeeze it at your fingertips.

"... what's that?

Pointing to the die at hand, Heath tilts her neck. His eyes said it was unfamiliar.

"My father drew it, it's a painting"

"Your father's?

"Yes."

Nod the surface of the oil painting with your fingers.

"Let me see, I wanted to give it to you. To my father. There's no way my father's soul lives in this. But I kind of wanted to show you... that this is where I live right now,"

The die, who stopped his fingers, looked over the castle. The only reason you can see the capital is because this is the Mizwilli family mansion on this side of the gate, but also close to the castle.

"... When you finished talking and said rest, Master Mariage, you said it, didn't you? Tomorrow I'll take care of my skin."

'I'm not sleeping forever because it's the Sabbath. I've put on lots of makeup, and the next day, I have to take care of my skin. It's a scratch. "

Beside Mariage, who ordered Die not to sleep, Titianna was pointing a complicated gaze at her. Sleeping habitual offenders are more like mariages.

Loosen his mouth to a remembrance laugh, Die asks, not directed at anyone.

"That means you can stay here and work, normally, starting tomorrow...?

When the die revealed her identity as a native of the flower district, Mariage ate on Heath. That's what I also thought when I took this job - that the children of senior aristocrats would be dirty and irresistible, such as being touched in the face by a whore's facialist.

Watching Mariage react, Die was ready that he might be fired this time. But it seems to have ended in concern.

There's nothing more to hide.

You don't have to fake yourself, you don't have anything.

I didn't think there was a place like that.

"Die."

Die looked up at Heath standing beside him. He grins slightly and glances at Die's knee.

"That painting, may I see it?

"Fine."

Heath gently received the painting offered by Die. Like when dealing with broken goods.

Seriously looking at the painting, he asks from there without moving his gaze.

"... this, you ladies?

"Yep.... my mother and I."

The painting I received from Asma was a portrait of my mother and baby. I guess I drew it right after the die was born. The smiling mother was at the top of her happiness at this time. Each time I find her happiness in the painting in the past, the die becomes bitter. I wonder how desperate she was to lose the man she loved.

Whatever you thought, Heath flipped the painting all the way over. Watch the corners of the wooden frame, he glances.

And he saw the inscribed letter with his right fingertip.

"Wife, Liv, daughter...... with Deanna. Emr Setra.... Deanna?

"Oh, it's my, it's my name"

It has been lost.

As a woman.

It's the name my father gave me.

"... right"

Take your eyes off the painting, Heath groans.

"Your name, Die, is the part of your head that spells this"

"That's right. It's something I let you read."

This, because I have a signature.

Asma was hiding the painting. No one but her peeps in, behind the study cabinet.

Because the name in this painting revealed the gender of the die.

"I wanted my mother to call this name. Nobody, the name I stopped calling. My father, my mother, Asma and I, it's a name that only four people know.... but in the end, you didn't call me."

Until the end.

She didn't see the die.

When she stared at the die, it was only when she followed the shadow of her father.

"... that guy didn't see me, but he wasn't hitting me hard, Heath"

grinning bitterly at the painful gaze from him, Die said.

"My mother sang to me when she was feeling calm and often taught me how to paint. She learned it from her father. My mother wasn't very... good though. When I painted my father and mother, he was very happy. Makeup is also an extension of the painting. When I was really little, I used to paint on the ground, on walls, on paper. It's on people's faces now, it just moved."

The way you draw, the tools, the materials, they just changed somewhat.

The purpose of painting just changed.

My makeup has my father's blood and moves at its root.

"... This, Emr, is..."

"That's my father's name. Emr is the first name and Setra is the last name. So my real name will be Deanna Setra."

Not now.

Only Asma and myself, I know.

I don't call anyone.

I didn't call you, it should be.

"Deanna Setra"

Heath repeats the name the die gave her. Die flashed in surprise. I didn't expect to be called because I didn't think so.

"Deanna"

View the void.

"Deanna"

It's like checking the sound, at the tip of your tongue.

"Deanna"

Many times.

"... Deanna"

Repeat.

Heath calls the name of the die.

Behind him, near dawn, the sky that came with white.

Tight sides and molasse-colored hair are conceiving the light of dawn.

Gently narrowed pale eyes seem to have captured the color of the sky.

Die wanted to cry.

I can't breathe, I remember happiness.

-... such a beautiful person calls my name.

Always have been.

Ever.

Forgotten, give me a name.

"It feels strange."

The warmth lit up behind his chest and Die laughed at him, remembering the odd tickle.

"... you're the first one who called me that name, Heath"

Ever since birth.

I've met countless people.

No one called the name.

Even though it was natural because it was hidden, neither my real mother, nor my raised mother.

Nobody.

I didn't call that name.

Heath blinked as she looked down at the die and was surprised. Breathtaking, opening your lips every time you say something. And he showed this one in his eyes.

There is not even a blink, a gender obscure figure trapped in the pale eyes that remain open.

"... Heath?

Surprised at his reaction, Die twisted his neck.

"... no. Nothing."

Lie down, Heath laughs.

"Me, is something weird okay?

"I didn't say that."

"Is that true?

"Yep.... Deanna"

Whispered with a slightly plundered low voice, the die stretched his body.

"... what is it?

I accidentally pointed at the tip of my mouth and groaned low. Rude, and showing willingness to surrender, Heath grins at her mouth. It was terrible, a soft smile.

"Which would you prefer?

"... Which one?

"It's a name.... calling me Die and calling me Deanna."

That, naturally -... which is it?

The name Die is too familiar. A sudden change of name is also a strange story. The surroundings will be confused, too.

Although.

Because of this, I saw Yang's eyes.

Suddenly, Heath shook her shoulder and laughed.

"You don't have to worry about it so seriously.... I'll call you Die as always when I work. Let's call them Deanna when you two are together."

"... Aren't you confused?

"What's different from calling me by name when you work and usually by name?

He was right. If you ask me, I call him by his name.

Silence. Here, he returns the painting.

"Thank you"

"... Hi"

Picking up my father's painting, Die lay down his face. How can I feel kind of embarrassed?

"Deanna"

Heath, at the end of his called and raised gaze, had a very, very gentle smile, which was like the yang of spring ahead.

He whispers.

"I'll call you. If you want… many times."

No falsehood.

Really, give me a name.

Heath casually offers her hand. The moment I took my hand with my neck tilted, my body pulled up in momentum. He says you should sleep before the night is perfect. It snorted, too, and Die followed him on the road first.