The Queen’s Cosmetician

Hot water, about, a few hand wipes.

Hair clasp, hand mirror, powdered cloth.

The glass of the vial forming the row reflects the sunlight from the window.

Open the color plate and arrange the brushes.

The chair position was adjusted.

"Well, here we go."

Rusty nodded at Die's voice.

The usual thin cloth has been removed, revealing a face that is tense to tension. The noticeable nostrils that fit in tiny round contours were pitiful.

That's why the rotten ugliness spread from neck to ear to ear and even forehead was prominent. A few early times Die practice care and makeup on the ladies. The reason Rusty didn't shake his head until the end is probably in this scar.

The redness of what was not so badly drawn was strong and the boundaries with healthy skin were clear.

The die gently touched the scar. Rusty makes her body harder and harder.

Die smiled at her.

"Please tell me if you feel uncomfortable. I'll touch it gently, and I'll be fine. It will be beautiful."

Tighten your expression and Rusty nods forcefully. It's like challenging a fight. Die laughed and cleansed his hands, taking up the vial of lotion.

I'm not forcing Rusty to. Die stopped asking for a practice bench and she asked for it. Looking at the makeup so far, it must have bothered you.

Slip the cotton cloth off the lotion onto Rusty's skin. With a prime minister, she was close to her age as a die. Luminous skin is fine. The lotion is well tamed.

Apply emulsion and basement over it. Apply a pale green color to the wound area and stretch out. After the redness has faded, the powder is applied while adjusting the surrounding skin and color flavour.

The boundaries have disappeared. White powder is next. dissatisfaction remains compared to those specifically ordered by the die. Still, it was fine and soft enough. To align all this quality, DiTrout must have given detailed instructions. Ditrout is, of course, grateful to his undersecretary for fulfilling the request.

The Prime Minister of that time did not return the night he gave the die the cosmetic case. On the contrary, it's been over the years without seeing each other, and it's been ten days. There's no sign of him back at night. I don't even see Zeno. The knights on the die keep their mouths shut. Apparently the women have not been informed of anything. If it wasn't a while ago, I wouldn't take it personally.

But I know.

Something happened.

Ditrout doesn't miss contact. If you're going to rebuff what you promised, you can keep saying it beforehand.

But there was nothing there that day.

On the contrary, one, two, three days and the audio messages were interrupted. The New Year was now when Mark and the knights who would take turns had communicated the businessmanship of Ditrout.

Die welcomed the New Year with three people, Mark and Rusty. The first day of the new year was also unprecedented snow, and the sounds of the ringing cathedral bells were also sucked by the snow piles and lacked colour. I wasn't tired of looking out the window at the white-filled streets because I had cosmetic tools on hand. The forgiveness of not forgetting one's real duties brought serenity to the die besides thoughts.

Exhale in a moist breath of tiredness and high fever, much better than the days when you were just sinking on the sleeping table. Die shut up, gained strength and committed himself to regaining his lost makeup arm.

Finish making Rusty's skin. Burn marks cannot be discerned without staring.

Die gave up his little tweezer. Fix your eyebrows and remove unnecessary fine hair. Huami is not liked, so the prospects are not flattering. Scars were also even less pronounced if the familiar cheeks were spread radially from the higher areas of the cheeks.

Pour honey red on the crease and remove the excess powder with a large brush and it's done.

"What do you say? If you don't like it, let me know."

Die, who handed Rusty a hand mirror, lifted his hips out of the chair with a toe in his hand. Turn next to Rusty and hang your hands on his hair.

"I think changing your hair will make it less noticeable. Tie your hair without burns. It will guide your gaze."

Rusty's flax-colored hair was simply tied at the back of his head. Untie it and pass it through, knitting some into three knitting pieces. I put everything together and doughed it on the ear side opposite the burn.

A knight who had previously stood silently on the wall pinches his mouth.

"Isn't it beautiful? Like it."

"Do you agree with Mr. Scipio?

"Ooh. I don't know if it's because of the scratches. My hair's not flashy, and it looks good."

Skippio, who alternates with Mark to serve Die, is loving, unlike the other side. Feel free to cheer up if you shake the story. I don't seem to like lies and deception. He was the kind of man who would ask as far as the die stepped in and answer that he couldn't say that while wolfing.

Rusty laughed in a hurry. Express your appreciation to Die in a gesture of gratitude. Die smiled back, which was good, and gave it back.

Rusty gets up and takes the thin cloth that was folded over the table. It is a thin cloth that matches the colour of your skin and hair. It would be a waste to wear it early, but I have no choice because it is an outfit in the Perfilia court.

She saluted Die and Scipio and left the room for the tea branch.

"Makeup is funny. I've never seen a woman's makeup before."

"Makeup isn't just for women. I don't care who you are, young or old. Anything to your husband. You'll see your tired face a little better."

"Ah. You don't seem to know if you're accidentally wearing makeup, my lord."

"Your skin is beautiful."

"Skin hey...... I'm sure it's easier than the others. Mr. and Mrs. Ba, there are also wrinkles."

The women who took on the practice bench at an early stage are the elderly. Careful moisturization is required as a bottom preparation in order to apply makeup to dry skin over the years.

What annoyed Die's hands more than that was an ugly flaw that existed in their faces.

It has the most burn marks, but some people think it was slashed.

(wrinkles, too)

Die rebuffed Scipio's remarks in his chest.

He knows the wounds they cover with thin cloth.

Die shrugged under the guise of subtlety as he proceeded to clean up his tools.

"Is that wound... from a civil unrest, before the queen decided?"

"Right."

On a single inquiry, Scipio returns the affirmation.

Die sighed.

(Again, is that right)

"The Buddies are still gentle. Everyone in this country is wounded. The worse the younger woman...... There's not even as many young women left as I say."

"Really?

"Why do you think your Excellency doesn't have a wife yet? I don't have the right girl."

Die recounted the story of Perfilia's civil unrest, which he heard from Dadan.

When the succession was lost at the same time as the previous queen collapsed, the faction that broke into two contested the throne. Eventually it spread across the country like wildfires, with the result of driving away women who could succeed.

The same thing is happening in other countries.

For example, Zemnam. The physical defects held by the country's prime minister, Siaries, are due to circumstances similar to those of Perfilia.

Die said, and I noticed. During the Continental Conference, the male/female ratio of apostles from Perfilia was biased against men compared to Delligeria. But none of the women should have been either.

"... aren't you Perfilia's ladies who show their faces to socializing?

"... no, I'm Perfilian..."

Scipio clouds the words. It's an inclusive way of saying it. The contents also contradict his earlier explanations.

Die closed the lid of the cosmetic box, hung the clasp and turned back to Scipio.

Follow Perfilia's chronology in your head.

"Now, you're a Perfilian, but not until recently, are you?

After Serenesti became queen, Perfilia swallowed the countries of the northern part of the continent, radically changing the shape of the country.

Was the woman who now faces the upper class of Perfilia a person from a neighbouring country?

Skippio hesitated to return the affirmation to Die's inquiry.

"Well, yeah, I guess"

"Is the rest a return from the North Continent? The people who were in exile when Maisemble was doomed are returning from the academic city (Laseana)...... fresco region, right?

Hearing Die's guess, Scipio weakened.

"Sounds like it. And then there's the merchant who bought the title with gold or... around there. Your Highness is not like this in blood, but every woman is adorable, and she cannot support you, nor fight with you.... Still, Sagan's grandfather takes a selection of fishing papers."

"Even though the situation isn't calming down, you get pushed back for trouble?

"Exactly."

I feel like I can imagine. From the standpoint, even if you understand that you need to succeed quickly, you probably don't want to devote your spare time to your gained wife.

Scipio turns a suspicious eye to the die who laughed.

"Why are you laughing there?

"Huh?"

"Your daughter, my lord... is she a woman? Aren't you jealous of all the fishing books? Or do you think you're the one getting married?

"Will I marry that one?

"What is your daughter... Your Excellency's what?

I don't know what DiTrout explains - I guess he hasn't.

Die sat on his bench and asked Scipio.

"Does Mr. Scipio know who I am?

"... he's from the next country. Same as His Excellency......"

"As far as you know, there is little contact between me and your husband. Just political entanglement, even if it does. Help that one until he jeopardizes his position, what the hell am I to that one?...... is that the part Mr. Scipio wants to know?

Scipio takes the lead.

Die smiled.

"I'd like to know, too. For that one, what am I?"

Whether you're loving that man or just getting the same love back, you're a lover, and I feel different if asked.

For before we are men and women we are ministers to each queen. Something that connects us both. It's just a thin thread or a weave of less than six months.

We worked together, ate and shared our emotions for one purpose.

I knew then, the gentleness, the pluckiness, the sound of the call, just can't get rid of you two.

"... this country suffered burns after Maisemble perished. Your Excellency is shredding his body and mind to erase the claw marks of the massacre after the massacre in every way possible."

Even in the name of one of the continent's leading powers, instability is giving a peek in the face beneath its surface.

The one who's putting all that behind him is Dietraut.

"What will the young lady be, my lord?

"... I wonder what it will be"

Die lowered his eyes slightly.

The presence of the die eating at him must appear to be a disturbing factor.

The light sound of the knocking doors plumbs away the silence that comes from the interrupted conversation. Scipio opens the door.

I thought Rusty was back, no.

He wasn't showing up after Ditrout, it was Zeno.

Zeno pointed his pale face at the die.

"Cynthia, I need a favor"

"Only?"

"I want him... to put Dita to bed."

With Rusty's hand, the die in the woman's attire was wearing a thin cloth from her head and walking down a stranger's hallway following Zeno's back.

Zeno's footsteps are quick and quick. I can't even say enough walking yet, and the die just goes with it. Die would have fallen several times if Scipio walking beside him hadn't assisted him.

Multiple doors for soldiers to turn through, walk down the corridor and continue deep into the castle.

Obviously I can tell the first is the room, the last door's turn was Mark. He opened the door with courtesy. Zeno pushes the back of the die to encourage him to enter the room.

The indoor windows were covered with a blackout screen and dark. For the reception, the outlines of the chairs, round tables and paintings hung on the walls rise in the light from the entrance on the hallway side.

There was another door in the back. It's even darker behind the slightly open door.

Looking back.

I had Xeno with a troubled face and eyes.

Xeno shrugged his shoulders and opened his mouth.

"I've been beside him for a long time, but they put me outside. I'm not the only one. We're all around him."

"That's not..."

"I do."

Zeno clearly denied the comfort of the die.

He leaked a self-derisive laugh.

"We're outside the wall he built. But that's not for getting rid of us. It must be a wall to protect us."

Cynthia, and, sounding real, Xeno begged Die.

"You're on the other side of the wall where we can't step in. You're the one who can save him now, not us. I know where you stand. But please... can you help Dita?"

The door closes.

There was one die left in the room.

No one.

Die walked in the dark room by hand.

Open the door in the back room.

Slightly, there's a hinge.

The room, which refused even a slight light, was a bedroom, on a covered sleeping table, with the figure of a man lying on his back with his face covered with his arms.

"Xeno...... that was too late. What were you doing?

"... ditlaut"

As the die whispered, the man jumped up on the sleeping table.

With a stunned face he sees a die.

"Why are you here?

"Mr. Zeno wants you to sleep"

"Xeno... what are you thinking... I told you not to let me out of the tower!

"He was worried about you"

The die packed the distance as soon as possible. Climb onto the bunk and sit in front of the dittrout.

Ditrout's complexion was terrible. I guess the insomnia continues. The neighborhood around my eyes is thick and the jaw line is a lot sharper. He stares at the die, pointing at the air wrapped around him like a beast at hand.

"Go back. This is not the place you were allowed to be."

"I know. But I'll be back with you."

"Deanna"

"Ditrout, what the hell is wrong with you? What happened to you?

No day has the shadow of fatigue disappeared from the dittrout.

But as far as I can remember from the die, it has never been this bad. It makes me want to cry.

Die put his finger through his hair. Keep comforting your cheeks. The sensation of scabs and rough skin. A tired man's face looks at the die with a bitter look on his face.

I can see from the temperature of the cloth that I've been lying here for a long time. Maybe he tried to get some sleep. The area around the collar was loose and the jacket hung over the chair.

He exhaled and grabbed Die's wrist.

"Is Zeno outside? Let me send it."

"I'm not going back."

"Hear me out"

"Is there anything I can do?

Ditrout movement stops.

"... what,?

"It's a help to you. Is there anything I can do?

"Thou that giveth Del Ligueiria help me?"

"Even you helped me."

"Simply saving lives and helping with politics would be a different story"

"I'm not asking you to let me help you with your work directly. I could be around you."

"So it's too late at night?

The man was a jerk.

I don't think he meant it.

But I wish that made him feel better.

Die pulled his hand from the dittrout and hung his finger on the string of his clothes. First remove the thin cloth, untie the matching string of the chest, and remove the toe from the top.

The hand, the man's hand withheld.

"No. I'm not."

Excuse me, and the man apologizes.

On the hand of a man who could keep his back round and item, Die lay his hands further.

"I will not be able to help you in all your ways. But if there's anything you can do right now, I won't spare your help."

How dangerous a bridge this man crossed to help the die.

I'm going to know.

Die stroked the line on the man's shoulder.

"Heath. You're alone, what are you carrying?

The man says nothing.

Die shook his voice at the bad luck.

"You're so blurry... how did you help me? To the Prime Minister of Perfilia - why did you imitate more of your load!

I don't even have to be begged by Zeno.

I want to help him if there's at least one thing he can do for the burden of himself.

After a long and long silence, DiTrout asked.

"Deanna... can you keep your mouth shut?

About the truth no one knows.