_____
It was a busy morning in the West Villa's kitchen, hummed with a frantic energy, a whirlwind of chefs and servants moving with a silent, practiced efficiency. Each person was a solitary island, focused on their own tasks as they navigated the morning rush.
In this orchestrated chaos slipped Tina. She weaved through the staff with a purpose, her own worries a quiet storm in her eyes. She found Head Chef, Alistair, a man whose temper was as hot as the furnace.
"Good morning, Alistair," she began, her voice trying to mask her anxiety with politeness.
"What is it, Tina? Are you here for another meal your lady wouldn't dare to touch?" His words were laced with a weary impatience. "This kitchen has been swamped since the Three Powerful Houses arrived—and with them, the Prince himself. And don't forget that one commoner who's as particular as they come. I don't have time for your lady's whims." The complaint tumbled from him, a frustrated torrent of exhaustion.
He doesn't understand, Tina thought, her heart aching—she wondered how her lady was doing now.
"For your information," she said, her voice gaining a sliver of steel, "it's been two days since you served my lady anything. She's been skipping important meals. The only thing she eats for 2 days is yesterday's pastry at the tea party." she added. "And, if the labor is too much you should take it up with Edmund, the Villa's butler."
Alistair finally turned, his face flushed. "THAT'S THE PROBLEM! SINCE YOUR LADY LOCKED HERSELF AWAY, EDMUND HAS VANISHED! PROBABLY HIDING FROM THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF MANAGING A MISTRESS WHO'S LOCKING HERSELF AT HER ROOM!"
The outburst echoed in the kitchen, causing a few servants to pause. Tina flinched but stood her ground. He's not entirely wrong, she thought, her heart aching. For over a week, since the villa had become home to the Three Pillars, her lady had been withdrawing. After three days of angry outbursts, she had now shut herself away completely…
"Please, Alistair," she whispered, her composure cracking. "Just… something simple. Something comforting that would soothe her stomach. A broth, perhaps? It needs to smell like… like safety. Like home. And… oh! A dessert! Not too sweet, but beautiful. Something so lovely she'd be tempted to taste it… and maybe, just maybe, she'd remember how good it feels to not be empty.
She was rambling, her words tumbling out in a chaotic jumble of hope. She was grasping at straws, at the memory of her lady's old genuine smile, trying to cook it into a meal that might bring that smile back.
The fight seemed to drain from Alistair. He looked at Tina properly—really look—and saw the dark circles under her eyes, the genuine, palatable worry in her expression. His irritated scowl softened into a look of concern.
"Hey," he said, his voice considerably quieter. "Tell me, Tina. What's really going on with the lady?"
Tina's shoulders slumped, the weight of her helplessness finally overwhelming her. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek, before she quickly wiped it away.
"I don't know," she confessed, her voice thick with emotion. "I truly don't. She's… changing. She's like a ghost of herself. And I'm so scared I'm losing her right through that door."
"The dessert was perfect!"
The new voice, bright with a hint of worry, cut through the kitchen's steam. Alistair and Tina turned to find Lilia hovering near the doorway, wringing her hands slightly.
"I heard the maids talking yesterday," Lilia continued, her voice softening as she stepped closer. "They said Lady Reise tasted all the pastry at the tea party. Especially the lemon cake they said. Maybe.. Maybe something like that could cheer her up? A little sweetness to lift her spirit?"
Her own eyes held a deep concern. She had been there last night, and heard the unsettling sounds of movement—the excavation—from behind the ornate door. And though she had only encountered Lady Reise (G6) once, the memory was etched in her mind: a kindness disguised in a cold approach, a warmth in the G6's hand, when she had reached out to her.
"Lilia?" Tina asked, her surprise pulling her momentarily from her worry. "What are you doing here? Aren't you meant to be attending to Miss Eliza in the Annex Duo?"
Alistair let out a dramatic groan, rolling his eyes to the ceiling as if pleading for patience. "Don't tell me you are her messenger today! Don't you dare show me another list of ingredients she's crossed out. If my menus are so offensive, she has a perfectly good kitchen in the annex of hers. Let her suffice herself!"
Lilia flinched slightly at his volume but stood still. She shook her head, a small, sympathetic smile touching her lips for the beleaguered chef. "No, Tair, I'm not here for a list today. I… I was actually looking for Miss Tina." She turned her earnest gaze back to the head maid and gently clutched her hands. "I want to help you prepare Lady Reise's breakfast." she smiled brightly.
Then she looked down at their joined hands, her voice dropping to a near whisper "'...And I wasn't needed there," she added, a small, telling frown gracing her features.
Alistair rubbed the back of his neck, "Fine, to make something warm and sweet for the lady, you two lend me a hand." Then he pinched Lilia's cheek, though his gruffness was not clearly an act. "And call me Alistair, you brat!." Lilia held her cheek, more out of surprise than actual pain, and stuck her tongue out at him.
Then she and Tina looked at each other with a comforting sense of solidarity and proceeded to help.
_____
The only sound in the opulent hallway was the quiet rumble of the service cart's wheels. Tina guided its path, her knuckles white on the handle, while Lilia walked silently at her side, hands tucked tightly into the folds of her apron as if seeking shelter.
They moved beneath the gaze of stern portraits, the painted eyes of ancestors and philosophers seeming to follow their progress. With each step, the weight of dread in their chests grew heavier, a cold stone of fear unsettling deep within. The memory of last night's unsettling sounds—the violent excavation—played in their minds, feeding their terror of what lay behind the door.
Finally, it rose before them: the ornate door to Lady Reise's chamber. Three steps away. The cart's wheels stilled. Their breath hitched.
Tina closed her eyes, drawing in a steadying breath. I wouldn't even mind another hairpin thrown at my neck, she pleaded silently to any god that might be listening, so long as she is there. So long as she is safe in her bed, for me to wake.
A shared, nervous glance passed between the two maids, a silent pact of courage. Tina raised a trembling hand and delivered three firm, consecutive knocks.
Silence.
Her heart plummeted. With a hand that shook slightly, she turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open, her body braced for a scene of devastation.
But it did not come.
The morning sun streamed into the room, illuminating a space that was eerily, impossibly in order. Everything was in its precise place, polished and calm. The only hint of what may have happened last night was the missing figures on the shelves.
Tina's eyes flew to the grand, four-poster bed.
Her face was drained of all color.
The sheets were thrown back.
The bed was empty.
A silent, cold horror seized her, gluing her feet to the floor.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, uncontrollable drumbeat of panic.
She was reminded of Lilia's words last night 'like… she's moving.'
Seeing Tina's paralysis, Lilia darted toward the bathroom, pushing the door open only to return moments later, her eyes already welling with tears. She rushed back to Tina's side, her small hand clutching desperately at the back of Tina's dress, seeking an anchor in their shared despair. The tension was a physical thing, swallowing them whole.
"What are you doing standing there," a voice drawled from the balcony, laced with familiar, sarcastic amusement, "like you've lost your own fortune?"
Their heads snapped toward the sound as one.
There she was. She stood on the balcony, bathed in the brilliant morning light. Her long white nightdress glowed, and the gentle breeze played with the loose strands of her hair and the delicate fabric of her sleeves, making it seem as if she were wrapped in a soft, ethereal light. She was a vision of calm, a stark contrast to the storm of fear she had left in her wake.
With a shared cry of relief, Tina and Lilia rushed forward, stopping a few paces away, afraid to get too close and break the spell.
"My.. My lady!" Tina's voice was a cracked whisper, thick with unshed tears. "You… you didn't run away. You're fine."
Behind her, Lilia remained half-hidden, still clutching Tina's dress, but now she was sneaking awed, relieved glances at the figure on the balcony, as if beholding a miracle.
"Run away?" G6 asked, a genuine flicker of confusion in her eyes. Then her lips parted in a soft, understanding 'Ah…' "You're right," she mused, nodding slowly as if adding the idea to a mental list of viable options. "I do have that choice."
She caught the raw, lingering anxiety in their posture and the tightness around their eyes. The sight seemed to pull her back from her thoughts. "I don't know what you're thinking," she stated, stepping gracefully back into the room from the sunlight. "But I'm not running away." She paused by her chair, a ghost of a smirk playing on her lips. "Yet…" she added, her tone laced with a teasing lilt that was entirely new.
"My lady! It's not funny to hear such things…" Tina protested, her voice a mix of scolding and profound relief.
G6 sank into the chair at the tea table, propping her chin on her hand with a weary elegance. "Didn't I tell you to stop calling me that?" she reminded her, her expression unreadable. "And… aren't you forgetting something?" Her gaze, sharp and perceptive, flicked between them.
Tina's mind raced. Something important? What could it be?
With a dramatic, exasperated moan, G6 let her head fall back against the chair. "You haven't fed me a proper meal for two days. I'm starving. For real." The complaint was delivered with a blunt, almost like childlike honesty.
A wave of pure, unadulterated joy washed over Tina.
"Lilia," Tina instructed, her voice soft and suddenly buoyant, "carefully bring the cart here. Lady—Our—Reise is hungry."
G6's attention shifted to the young maid maneuvering the cart. She watched the girl push the heavy cart, her small frame nearly dwarfed by it.
A laugh bubbled up in G6's throat-*She's just three inches taller than the cart itself *- which she quickly disguised as a cough.
Lilia positioned the cart with a careful precision and then snapped back into a ramrod-straight posture.
"Oy, you," G6 called out, her voice cutting through the silence. "Lilia, was it?"
Lilia's eyes widened in sheer awe. The lady knew her name. "Ye…yes, m'lady," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
"How old are you? Why are you so small?" G6 asked, the question blunt and devoid of malice, as if she'd never encountered a child before.
Tina watched the exchange, a silent observer. This was unprecedented. The old Reise's interactions with servants were limited to demands, insults, or cold silence. Never curiosity.
"Uhmm.. I'm eight years old…." Lilia whispered.
G6's eyes widened with theatrical mock surprise, "When I was eight, I was tall," she declared, sitting up straighter as if to flex a non-existence height advantage.
Tina chose that moment to place a bowl of fragrant broth before her. "That is… not true," she interjected gently, setting down the lemon cake next. "You were just as tall as her." She finished by placing the teapot and cups on the table with a soft clink.
G6's jaw went slack. Right. I am Reise now. The thought was a swift, internal correction. Tch. For a moment, she had forgotten, speaking from the memory of her true self—Akira.
She quickly picked up her spoon and drove into the soup, a convenient diversion from her failed boast. "Oh, this is good," she mumbled between bites. "I want you to serve this to me if I ever have a hangover."
Tina and Lilia shared a fleeting, triumphant smile. Their effort had paid off.
"With all due respect," Tina ventured, emboldened by the strange new atmosphere, "I don't recall you being able to handle alcohol."
This was entirely new. The old Reise would never engage in conversation during a meal, much less tolerate a servant's gentle contradiction. But this version… Tina found herself inexplicably drawn to her chaotic energy.
"Ha? Watch me," G6 shot back, her tone a challenge. Her eyes then landed on the lemon cake. She took a bite, and her eyes lit up. This is even more delicious than yesterday's!
Then, her sense—honed by a life of vigilance—detected a presence. A quiet, almost imperceptible stare. She secretly glanced to the side. Lilia was watching the cake with the intense, desperate focus of a stray kitten eyeing a scrap of food.
G6 deliberately set the cake down on her plate with a sigh and picked up her broth again.
"You, kid," she said, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Finish that lemon cake."
A stunned silence swallowed the room. Both Tina and Lilia froze.
"La—Reise… that is highly improper," Tina objected, her training overriding her shock.
"M-Miss Tina is right… m'lady," Lilia stammered in agreement, her eyes wide with fear.
Tch. What's improper is you two standing there like statues, watching my every bite.
"Consider it a command," G6 stated, her voice shifting into something cold and sharp, a blade of finality. "I've decided I don't like it. So, she gets to eat it. Or would you prefer I throw it out the window?"
Tina's eyes twitched. The negative attitude was there, a familiar echo of old Reise's. But this felt different. This wasn't the petulant anger of a noble; it was the dangerous, unwavering will of a general issuing an order that would be followed.
"Hurry," G6 demanded.
Lilia looked up at Tina, her eyes pleading for guidance. After a tense moment, Tina gave a single, hesitant nod.
Trembling, Lilia approached the table. "Sit down," G6 commanded with an air of absolute authority.
The young maid perched on the very edge of the vacant chair across from her. G6 slid the plate with the pristine lemon cake in front of her.
"Now. Taste it."
Lilia, a poor child caught in the bewildering orbit of G6's interest, hesitantly picked up the fork. She took a small bite. Then, her entire face transformed, lighting up with pure, unguarded delight. "It's so good!" she breathed, forgetting her fear for a moment.
A look of profound satisfaction—of relief—washed over G6's features before she could school them back into neutrality.
"It's better to taste it than to drool at it from a distance," she remarked casually, taking a sip of her tea.
Her gaze then fell on Tina. "You too, Tina. Sit down."
"No, my lady, standing is–"
"It's not a request," G6 interrupted, her voice dropping to a low, clear warning. "If you wish to serve me a meal again, you will do as I say." The unspoken take it or leave it.
Her heart pounding, Tina slowly sat in the chair between Lilia and G6.
Then G6 did the unthinkable. She took a clean cup and poured a stream of amber tea into it, pushing it across the table toward Tina.
Tina recoiled as if she'd been offered poison. "My lady! What are you doing?!" she squeaked, her voice leaping an octave.
"No tea for a child, water is alright for you," G6 said to Lilia, as if this were a perfectly normal situation. She turned her piercing gaze back to Tina. "and you. I want you to treat me like you used to before. Even if it is just within these four walls."
Tina's mind spun. Lilia looked equally bewildered. They were sitting at a table with the woman whose beauty was often compared to a chilling goddess. They were at her grace, and her grace, it seemed, was a bewildering and terrifying thing.
However, my dearest spectators, let us not be fooled by this charming tableau. Do not forget who, or rather what, resides within the shell of Lady Reise. This sudden kindness was not born of a softened heart, it was a calculated strategy, meticulously crafted and deployed with the precision of a surgeon's blade.
G6 was not just an assassin; she was a renowned Reaper, a legend whispered about in the darkest corners of the industry. Her training extended far beyond the art of killing. It encompassed the subtle, corrosive science of manipulation. She was a tactician who could orchestrate a man's downfall and have him thank her for the privilege, a phantom who could steal the fortune from your vault and have you sign the paperwork yourself.
Every gentle word, every offered teacup, every seemingly impulsive command was a move on a chessboard only she could see.
The reason for this bizarre, benevolent behavior?
[EARLIER THAT MORNING…]
G6 woke to the invasive glare of sun streaming through the open balcony doors. She sat up mechanically, the leather-bound diary tumbling from her chest into her lap. The events of the night—the frantic excavation of Reise's soul and memories—had left a psychic residue, but her mind was already clearing, shifting from absorption to analysis.
She had consumed every page, every desperate scribble. She knew of Tina's history: not just a maid, but a once-beloved sister figure whose relationship with Reise had fractured under the cold weight of palace expectation three years ago. She knew Reise's deepest wish was for that familiar, unguarded companionship—a single refuge from the gilded cage of high society.
With a series of sharp cracks, G6 rotated her neck, a morning ritual from another life. The disorientation of her new reality had faded, replaced by a cold, operational acceptance. She placed the diary in the bedside drawer. There was no need to hide it. Lady Reise was alive, after all. Piloted by a far more dangerous tenant.
She strode onto the balcony, stretching her limbs as the morning breeze kissed her skin. Her gaze was not on the beauty of the gardens below, but on their layout, their sightlines, their potential as both battleground and hunting ground.
"I need more information," she said to the empty air, her voice low and steady. "And allies." The word tasted pragmatic, not compassionate.
She leaned against the sun-warmed railing, her mind a whirlwind of strategy. People are weak creatures. Emotionally vulnerable, desperate for connection, for validation. A little kindness, strategically applied, is a more lethal weapon than any poison. It forges chains they willingly wear.
The thought was almost distasteful. How pathetically easy it is to manipulate them. But a tool is a tool.
I'll find more Tina. More who are vulnerable, overlooked, and hungry for recognition. They will be my eyes, my ears. A network. A faint cold smile touched her lips. And in return, they will have the privilege of my protection. As long as they are my subjects, they are safe. A fair trade.
Her analytical reverie was broken by movement below. Eliza, flanked by two servants, stood at the entrance to the Annex-Duo, her posture radiating an arrogance that was palpable even from this height.
That bitch looks arrogant, G6 muttered, the thought a spark of genuine irritation in her calculated mind. I wonder what use she could be… or what fun it would be to break her pride.
Then, a knock came at her chamber door. She didn't turn. She listened. The door opened. Footsteps. She recognized Tina's anxious rhythm and… a lighter, unfamiliar tread.
A walking doll?
From her vantage point, she watched the scene unfold inside her room through the reflection in the glass balcony door. She saw the panic bleach the color from Tina's face, the utter horror as they found the bed empty. She saw the young maid–Lilia—emerge from the bathroom on the verge of tears.
A slow, utterly wicked smile spread across G6's face. It was not a smile of joy, but of cold, satisfying confirmation.
"That's what I'm talking about," she whispered, the words a venomous sigh. Perfect.
She waited a beat longer, letting the despair truly set in, before finally turned and made her presence known, her voice dripping with sarcastic amusement.
[END OF FLASHBACK]
Now, back in the sunlit room, G6 watched the two maids squirm in their seats, basking in the successful first phase of her experiment. The silence was a tool she wielded expertly.
She broke it with a question aimed like a dart. "So," she began, her eyes locking onto the small girl, "why are you glued to Tina?" The tone was light, but the intent was pure interrogation.
Lilia jumped as if scalded, swallowed once more by shyness.
G6 felt a flicker of irritation. Am I that frightening?
"She wasn't needed in the Annex-Duo," Tina interjected smoothly, coming to the girl's rescue. "So she helped me prepare your breakfast."
Annex-Duo. The smaller extension on the left. Eliza's domain.
"How kind of you," G6 purred, her voice deceptively soft. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze intensifying. "But… is that all?" The shift in her tone was miniscule, but it was there—the subtle pressure of an expert interrogator sensing a half-truth.
Aha. The assassin's instinct flared. There was more.
Under the weight of that expectant gaze, Lilia faltered. G6 offered what she hoped was a reassuring expression —a carefully constructed mask of gentle curiosity, part of her manipulative arsenal.
Hesitantly, Lilia spoke. "It was just… Miss Eliza only entertains the two servants offered by the Prince," she started. Oh? Those two earlier? Interesting. A fracture in her little court. "...and the Annex-Duo only has five servants, including those two. It wasn't that big, so… the help of a… kid… wasn't really needed." The frown in her eyes, the slight quiver, betrayed the hurt behind the words.
She was being bullied. Perfect. Exactly what I needed. The thought was a cold spike of triumph.
"If you are not comfortable there," G6 announced, her voice ringing with finality, snapping both Tina and Lilia to attention, "you can stay here." She let the offer hang in the air for a moment before delivering the decree. "Now that I have my energy, and my will back, I am too much for Tina to handle alone. You're lucky I find you… adorable." She let the word land like a gift. "Starting now, you are an assistant of Tina—my personal maid. Hm… that makes you, my personal maid now."
Lilia's face flushed a deep crimson. A…adorable? Did Lady Reise just call me adorable? Her mind short-circuited with a mix of terror and elation.
G6 eyes flicked to Tina. "Is there a problem with that, Tina?"
Tina adjusted her glasses, understanding the unspoken cue instantly. She, too, had been hearing about the treatment from the other side of this little girl. "No, my lady. It will be helpful to have another set of hands."
"Then, it's settled." G6 declared, finishing her tea with a satisfied flourish.
"I-... It was such a great honor to serve you directly, Lady Reise. Thank you so much…" Lilia breathed, a genuine, tremulous smile breaking through her nerves.
G6 allowed herself a small, closed-lipped smile in return. It was not a smile of warmth, but one of pure, unadulterated satisfaction. Target acquired. Ally secured.
Now, to use her new resource.
"Come to think of it," G6 began, her tone shifting to one casual, geographic curiosity. Smooth. "This villa is ridiculously large. With two extensions on both sides."
"That's right," Tina confirmed, taking the bait. "The smaller extension —the Annex-Duo—houses Miss Eliza. On the other side, the Annex-Unus, slightly smaller than this main building, is where the two Pillars' sons reside with Prince Dio." She took a sip of tea. "A political arrangement, to be sure."
G6's blood ran cold. Hell. I'm surrounded. Potential hostiles on both flanks. It's like having a gun pointed at each side of my head.
"Why are they all fucking here?" The words erupted from her in a burst of irate, uncensored frustration.
Lilia's lips parted in a silent 'o' of shock. Tina's eyes twitched. Ah, there it is, Tina thought, the barbarian queen emerges from the lace and perfume.
"It was chosen by the Queen, lady. And your language," Tina corrected, seamlessly weaving the admonishment into her explanation. "Her Majesty is responsible for the well-being of the three great names. Besides, the West Villa is the nearest to the Royal Collegium of Sorcery and Steel."
The name alone was a hook set deep in G6's soul. Royal Collegium of Sorcery and Steel. Her eyes, which had been narrowed in irritation, now widened with undisguised, predatory interest.
Whoa, whoa. Now that sounds like my kind of place.
"What's the Royal Collegium?" She asked, her voice dripping with fascination she didn't bother to hide.
"It's a compound of three Professional Departments! It's beautiful!" Lilia chimed in, her own eyes glowing with excitement. "The path is at the back of the Villa. A paved walkway leads right to the ivy-covered walls?"
"The residents of both annexes work there," Tina added. "They began three days ago."
G6 clicked her tongue, a plan solidifying in her mind with a force of thunderclap. I am so going there.
"I WANT TO GO THERE!" The declaration burst from her, brimming with the unbridled excitement of a child presented with a new toy.
"You can't, lady," Tina said, her voice gently dousing the flames. "Even as a Worthon, only those with Professional Cards can pass the ivy wall."
"How do I get one?" G6's voice was pure steel, all earlier playfulness gone.
Tina sighed, recognizing the stubborn set of her mistress's jaw. "First, you must register with the Professional Guild, which is exclusive to the palace grounds. Second, you need the Queen's explicit approval."
Guild? The word sent a jolt through her. Does that mean…? She lunged forward, grabbing Tina by the shoulders. "TINA, IS THERE AN ADVENTURERS' GUILD?!"
"Y…yes!" Tina stammered, startled by the violent enthusiasm. "But it's in the capital town, not here."
"What do you mean?" G6 demanded, her grip tightening.
Tina gently pried herself loose, and guided G6 back into her chair. "Listen. There are three major guilds in the kingdom. The Merchant Guild and the Adventurers' Guild are both located only in the Capital town. The Professional Guild is different—it's a guild only for nobles, and it is housed here, within the palace."
G6's shoulders slumped. The dream seemed to die right before her eyes. "So if I want to be in both… I can't?" Her voice was small, genuinely heartbroken.
"The Professional Card," Tina, and watched as G6's head snapped up, sensing a loophole, "is a privilege card." She paused for effect. "It is an all-access pass. It grants you the rights to a merchant, the license of an adventurer… It records all your accomplishments in one place. It is the highest endorsement one can receive —the nobles."
G6's world, which had momentarily dimmed, exploded back into brilliant, technicolor light. She shot her feet, buzzing with manic energy. "Tina! Make me presentable! We're going to see the Queen!"
Then she halted. "Hmm… but Edmund isn't here." Her forehead furrowed in genuine confusion. "Who the hell is that?"
"Word, Lady Reise. He is a butler of this Villa, assigned by the Queen herself to oversee your care. However," Tina said, a knowing, almost smug smirk playing on her lips—oh, she's enjoying this—"since you locked yourself away for days, Edmund must have felt… discouraged. He vanished. And you cannot request an audience with the Queen without him. It is a matter of protocol."
Tina's words were like a bucket of ice water. G6's glorious dream, so vividly close, shattered on the floor of protocol and the missing butler. She collapsed back into her chair with a dramatic, defeated thud.
"Don't worry, Lady Reise!" Lilia chirped, her voice bright with newfound purpose. She stood up, her small frame squared with determination. "I'll find Edmund!"
G6 looked up, her expression that of a sobbing child offered a lifeline. "Really? You'd do that for me?"
Lilia nodded fervently. "Excuse me, m'lady! I'll find him now! Please, begin your preparations!" And with a whirl of her skirts, the newly appointed assistant personal maid cheerfully hurried out of the room, on her first, crucial mission.
After Lilia left, a profound silence descended upon the room, leaving G6 drowning in the whirlpool of her own thoughts.
I was never really a fan of the fantasy genre, she mused, her gaze distant. That was always Pisces's obsession. Dragging me into those worlds of elves and spells. A faint, almost imperceptible flicker of nostalgia —or was it grief?—crossed her features before being swiftly buried.
The only concept that ever caught my interest was the Adventurers' Guild. The simplicity of it. You are given a task. You complete it. The target could be a monster, a demon… could be… a person—
(WAIT. PAUSE FOR A MOMENT, G6! The last part is rare, and almost never happens! That's a completely different, far less publicized guild!) *clear throat* Excuse me for interfering, now back to—
Her train of thought derailed, switching tracks to a more immediate concern. Magic. Right. I supposedly have magic. But how in the hell am I supposed to cast it? If my affinity is Wind… what was that move called…? Ah! Wind Slash. She mimed a slashing motion with her hand under the table. Just the sound of the name… it makes my heart beat faster. It was the thrill of a new weapon, a new skill to master, reminiscent of the animated sequences Pisces would force her to watch.
While G6 was utterly absorbed in her violent daydreams at the tea table, Tina observed her. This new incarnation of Reise was a chaotic pendulum. You never knew what would greet you the next moment she opened her mouth: a performance of kindness, a flash of cold indifference, or this bizarre, out-of-nowhere enthusiasm that seemed to vibrate through her very core.
With a resigned sigh, Tina stood up. Duty called. She moved toward the large, ornate wardrobe to select a gown suitable for an audience with the Queen.
But when she pulled the doors open, a scene of inexplicable chaos greeted her.
This…this was not a wardrobe. This was a crime scene.
The once meticulously hung, elegant, expensive gowns were now wadded into tight, crumpled balls, as if they had been violently wrestled into submission and shoved back into the darkness. Shoes, which belonged in their own dedicated drawers, were scattered like fallen soldiers amidst a sea of silk and satin. Tina's eyes caught on a knotted bedsheet. When she lifted it with a tentative finger, it clinked. Peering inside, she found the missing figurines from the room's shelves, now sadly shattered into pieces.
Horrified, Tina slammed the wardrobe doors shut and whirled around to stare at G6. Her mistress remained oblivious, her attention captured by something on the balcony, a faint ambitious smile on her lips.
Driven by a dawning dread, Tina yanked open the drawers of the vanity. Her shock deepened. Hairbrushes, jewelry, and delicate ornaments that belonged on the polished surface were instead jammed into a drawer meant for ink pots and feathered pens.
Another drawer revealed a mess of musical sheets, with an open inkwell perched precariously on top—miraculously closed, preventing a total catastrophe.
Finally, she pulled open the bottom cabinet door with a sense of impending doom. A cascade of… everything…spilled out onto the floor—random trinkets, discarded slippers, a forgotten book. The noise of the avalanche finally snapped G6 from her reverie.
She turned, looked at the explosion of clutter, and let out a soft, "Ah…" It was the sound of someone suddenly remembering a very destructive secret they'd meant to keep hidden.
Of course it was suspicious that the room was so oddly clean, Tina realized, her earlier worries evaporating and being replaced by pure, disbelief. She didn't even bother to hide it properly. She just… shoved it away. This lady…
Tina fixed G6 with a look that screamed, without uttering a single word, "Really?!"
G6 had the decency to look momentarily chastised, scratching the back of her neck in a gesture that was half-apology, half-smug satisfaction. "That's why I got you an assistant," she declared, her arrogant smile returning full force, as if she'd orchestrated the entire mess precisely to justify hiring Lilia.
The truth, of course, was that she had completely forgotten about the mess. She had taken Lilia for her own tactical reasons. The state of chaos drawers and wardrobe was merely a fortunate coincidence she was now claiming as a masterstroke.
"I don't think I can make you presentable," Tina stated flatly, her face a mask of offended professionalism. "All your dresses have been… brutally abused." She couldn't find a better term for violence done to the garments.
Panic, raw and immediate, flashed in G6's eyes. Hell no! You are not going to crush my foreshadowed dream of viole- I mean, magic!
She immediately strode over to Tina. "Look, Tina. I am sorry," she said, the words rushed. Tina's eyes widened at the unheard-of apology, though for G6, it was purely panic for her 'dream', not remorse for the mess. "But we have to do something about it!" She pleaded, her eyes wide and desperate in a way that Tina, despite her best efforts, found utterly impossible to ignore.
Tina's stern expression softened. Got you.
"Fine," she relented. "I'll check the adjoining dressing room. Most of your seasonal wear and dresses are stored there."
G6'S heart did a little flip. "There's more?" she asked, her voice full of genuine astonishment, "Bring me with you!" she demanded, surging forward with renewed enthusiasm.
It wasn't excitement at the prospect of more pastel gowns. It was the hope—the desperate, burning hope that she might find something, anything, buried in that room that looked less like a confection and more like her style. Something that hinted at the Reaper within.
_____
G6 stood frozen in the center of the room, a stark, dark figure adrift in a sea of impossible pastels and frilled extravagance. The silk and satin seemed to mock her, their delicate hues an assault on her very identity. Her right hand twitched at her side, fingers spasming in a frantic, subconscious search for a trigger, a grip, the cold, comforting steel of a weapon that wasn't there.
A low, animalistic sound of pure revulsion rumbled in her throat. Her eyes, wide with a kind of horrified panic, scanned the endless racks as if they were a hostile army closing in.
She turned to Tina, with a deadly stare filled with a broken expectation and insulted expression.
"Tina."
Her voice was a deadly calm, preternaturally quiet, which made the words that followed all the more terrifying.
"Bring me a match."
She finally held Tina's gaze, her own eyes blazing with absolute, unhinged seriousness.
"I will burn all of this."