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Chapter 11 - Sign Eleven

READING GUIDANCE

" This is a direct sentence in the present time."

" This is a direct sentence in the past time."

' This is a character's inner thought in the present time.'

' This is a character's inner thought in the past time.'

[ This is a direct sentence in sign language in the present time.]

[ This is a direct sentence in sign language in the past time.]

HAPPY READING!

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It had been around three months since the imperial meeting. Time dragged, yet the company had never been busier. Harsh regulations and soaring taxes strangled every plan. Many companies had folded or fled. Irisha barely understood how she'd survived, but here she was, caught in the center of a storm she hadn't asked for.

' What is my purpose in life?' Her thoughts trembled with fear.

"...If you cannot speak, does that mean you want to die?"

The words came from the princess herself. Every inch of her radiated danger: her flawless hair, her smirk, the gallant white dragon coiled behind her, claws glinting in the sun. Everyone before the palace gate cowered under her gaze.

Irisha's mind darted to Arisha.

' It's her... my only purpose. What will happen if I die?' 

She had no voice, no way to explain herself. Her bag, with her notes, had been thrown in a desperate leap to save someone from the dragon's claws.

The demonstration that had drawn her curiosity now trapped her in terror. The princess's gaze fixed on her, unwavering, merciless.

"Speak," the princess commanded.

' What am I supposed to say?' Irisha screamed in silence, her heart hammering.

' I really want to live,' she thought, locking eyes with the woman whose golden stare felt hauntingly familiar.

"YO-YOUR GRACE!" someone yelled from the crowd. "That woman is deaf and mute!"

The young man who had fought with Rosan stepped forward. His bow was deep, trembling. "Please forgive her, Your Grace. She knows nothing."

The princess's gaze flicked to Irisha, sharp as a blade. ' She knows nothing?'

Because she remembered this woman's desperate leap to protect the pale man beside her. As if - she knows something.

"We are humble people of yours," the man stammered. "We only wish to discuss the previous matter."

The princess descended from her dragon, landing like a shadow in front of the bowing pair. The crowd froze, fear coating every face. The princess's eyes, sharp and calculating, rested on Irisha. Recognition flickered there.

A knight approached, offering a note. She glanced skyward, reading it in a heartbeat, then returned her gaze with a smirk.

"Very well. We will have a discussion," she said. "But only this woman"—her eyes settled on Irisha—"will speak. Fail to answer, fail to show anything worth discussing... and my dragon will remind you of your place."

Irisha's chest tightened. The crowd behind her seemed to shiver, the weight of the threat pressing down. Even Rosan's friend paled.

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Then, suddenly, they were all directed to enter the palace, to the place they had been before. The difference now was that far fewer officials were present — only the first princess and the crown prince sat on their thrones.

At that moment, Irisha realized that the man she had met at the lake was likely the crown prince himself — or at least, that was her guess, since no one there could explain what was happening. But who else would sit on that throne besides the crown prince and the first princess? And if they weren't the ones in charge, why were so many people bowing in their presence? Not to mention the infamous rumors about the terrifying aura that accompanied them — the beauty, the charisma, and the abnormal atmosphere that made even the bravest shiver.

She still wanted to analyze and observe more; it was the only thing she could do right now. Yet, strangely, all the people who had demonstrated in front of the gate were suddenly surrounding her. They seemed to be speaking to her, but she could not understand a word. Their expressions were unsettling — anger, frustration, disappointment, and rage all reflected in their eyes.

"Why should she be the one?"

"She is mute and deaf! How could she even speak?"

"The knight said an interpreter is prepared for her to speak to His Grace, but no one can say anything, or it will lead to execution."

Then Rosan's friend suddenly approached her and handed her a piece of paper, filled with words. One sentence stood out, written in large, bold letters: "Say this to the prince and the princess."

"Just say it with your sign language thing," wrote the man.

[Why?]

He sighed, frustrated. "Just do it! They want you as our representative," he wrote hastily. "I'm helping you because of Rosan, so you pay me back with this. Just say it, and you won't lead us to our deaths." He scribbled more, "If you mess up and something happens to us, it will be all your fault." His glare was menacing.

'Then why do you even protest if the consequences are so obvious?' she thought, but she could neither speak nor complain — she was as much at fault for being caught in this mess.

'They want me to say this?' she asked herself, glancing at the prince and princess seated silently. ' How will they understand me? Or are they mocking me?' She looked around the palace hall, trying to comprehend, when someone pushed her forward. She was now standing alone in the center.

"Ah, perfect timing," said the princess with a calm smile. "Let's start, shall we?" Her gaze rested on Irisha, who was confused and unaware of the shouting crowd pressing her from behind.

Her eyes widened as they fell on Haya, standing beside the prince and princess.

[Haya?]

"What did she say?" asked the prince.

Haya panicked. "S-she said my name... she seemed surprised." He glanced at Irisha, worry and pity in his expression, silently asking, ' How did you end up here?'

Silly as it seemed, she was glad to see a familiar face. She wanted to say, ' She doesn't understand why I'm here,' but remained still.

The prince smiled, strangely enthused by the situation. "Tell her that I want to hear about the previous matter all these gentlemen are eager to discuss." Haya interpreted, and Irisha began to understand the situation.

She read the note Rosan's friend had given her, took a deep breath, and exhaled, composing herself. This was important — crucial even — in this chaotic scene.

[It's about the previous matter,] she signed. [Specifically, the new regulation that burdens the humble owners.] She saw the crowd's relief as Haya interpreted her words. Then she closed her eyes and crumpled the note, surprising many behind her.

"She asked if she may state her own opinion on this matter," Haya said hesitantly, causing immediate confusion and shouts.

"What?! What did she say?"

"What opinion? Is this a joke?"

"Someone stop that stupid disabled woman!"

Haya frowned at her, signaling not to escalate further. But Irisha looked at him with quiet assurance. He interpreted aloud, "She wants to state her own point on this matter." As expected, the crowd grew louder.

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They were frustrated, terrified - all mixed at that moment.

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"Come here, you crazy bi—" An old man lunged, attempting to grab her hair in fury. Haya thought his heart might stop, but fortunately, a knight intervened, leaving Irisha unaware of the chaos behind her. She focused only on the important faces ahead.

Her heart thumped uncontrollably, imagining the worst. In this hall of tyrants, what if blood spilled? If she turned...

[I will propose a good solution for this matter,] she signed calmly. Haya could see her anxiety beneath the composed surface. [I understand the regulation was made to help the empire in this critical situation.] Haya interpreted carefully.

"She said something we don't want!" shouted another man.

[I am fully aware of that, as it is our responsibility too,] she signed, keeping her calm facade while unsettling the crowd.

"Your Grace! Please let us speak in—" The shouting stopped abruptly as the crown prince's terrifying glare froze the man, stealing the air from his lungs.

Irisha maintained her calm expression, turning to the woman she spoke of. "So you're saying there is nothing wrong with the regulation?" she signed, glancing briefly at Haya for interpretation. She nodded. [Yes. Logically—]

"What are you saying, stupid bitch!" someone bellowed, yanking her hair and forcing her down. She hit the floor hard; her knees cracked under the impact. His fingers dug into her hand, leaving deep, burning scratches.

The man's face was twisted in pure desperation — veins bulging, eyes wild with a mix of fear and rage. This wasn't just anger; it was panic. The new regulation could bankrupt his company, ruin his life, maybe even take everything he had worked for decades to build. Every moment he spent listening to her calm reasoning felt like a cruel mockery, like someone laughing while he watched his livelihood crumble.

The knights moved swiftly, forming a protective circle around her, pulling her away from the trembling, shouting crowd. She didn't fully understand the chaos behind her, but she could feel the raw, suffocating weight of their despair pressing in, shaking her to the core.

[Logically, yes, Your Grace,] she signed, covering her injured hand with her other hand, before signing again, [War is not a battle won by strength alone. It requires multiple factors, one of which is financial support.] 

[The Eastern territories are now inaccessible, and they were our largest source of state revenue. Where else can the empire obtain funds but from its people? War is never the burden of one person or one group; it is always everyone's responsibility.]

Her words caught the attention of the finance and international ministers standing behind the prince and princess.

"She said that, yet she also understands the struggle of running a company under such regulations. The regulation is logically sound, but in reality, it burdens many. We will not survive long under it — she insists we must change our approach," Haya interpreted.

"What is your method?" the prince asked seriously, glancing at her trembling hand, then meeting her anxious gaze. Though she appeared calm, her actions hinted at inner turmoil.

[I analyzed the data on this matter over the past months in my office,] she signed. [I tried to understand why the Eastern traders dared to cut off this empire, as we are known for our abundant resources. Where would they source replacements after severing ties with us?]

She made the crowd, those who still retained reason, pause and consider. [This is speculation, but I sent someone to investigate. The mine in Mountain Miti is far, yet accessible to the Eastern traders. Their demands are high, and resources are limited. I estimate that in six to eight months, they may attack or take action against us, constrained by their own limitations.]

The prince whispered to the finance minister behind him, apparently considering something. After a moment, he nodded. "Continue."

"Ah... yes!" Haya said frantically, glancing at Irisha and giving her a sign to continue. "She said that either the military must act quickly, or we must recover our financial state. In the end, their actions are hurting them too — like a double-edged sword. Some regions where they trade are now cut off because of this war. We can take advantage and sell our goods there at higher prices; sudden shortages will drive up demand. On that note, she has already listed several regions with the highest demand for the goods we produce..." Haya added, looking anxiously at Irisha.

"...You are a worker in Daniel's Trading Company, right?" asked the finance minister, glancing at the prince for permission.

Haya looked between him and Irisha, who had closed her eyes briefly. Unable to answer for herself, Haya hurriedly replied, "Yes, she is the assistant of the owner," his eyes never leaving Irisha's pale face.

"Where is the owner?" the minister pressed.

"She... is out of town..." Haya said, her voice faltering as he noticed the blood dripping from Irisha's hand.

"...It was an urgent matter... oh, no! Irisha—" Haya gasped, his voice cracking as he saw blood dripping from her hand.

"Irisha!" he shouted, panic fueling his words, but before he could reach her, the prince moved first. Holding her steady so she wouldn't collapse.

Haya froze for a moment, stunned by the prince's decisive action. Then he hurried forward, handing his jacket and pressing it gently against her wound while keeping her upright.

Confused, Irisha looked up at the Crown Prince as he lifted her effortlessly. "Ivy, take care of the rest," he ordered, moving swiftly out of the hall, followed by Haya - unaware of Irisha's confusion. 

The finance minister spoke with Ivy for a while before she turned her gaze to the people waiting impatiently and anxiously.

"Seems you'll be notified for the next meeting, huh?" Ivy said, her calm tone making the crowd relax slightly. A few faces even broke into relieved smiles.

"...I don't want to continue it, so you take care of it," she added, addressing the minister directly. He bowed deeply in acknowledgment.

Before leaving the hall, Ivy cast one last glance at the group. "They are all smiling in relief — the same people who once wanted to devour a pitiful woman," she said, her gaze deadly silent. Then, a sly smile curved her lips. "...Ironically, that pitiful woman, once cursed by these people, is the one who saved them." She laughed, the sound echoing through the hall.

"And they all say the imperial family is evil? Hahaha... so funny." With that, she left, leaving the hall in stunned silence. Even the finance minister allowed them a moment to reflect, realizing how cruel human nature could be — far crueler than the one with dragon's blood.

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