The morning light filtered through the curtains, cold and indifferent. I sat on the edge of the bed, the familiar ache in my left shoulder a sharp reminder of my reality.
Getting dressed was a slow, practiced dance, one hand looping the belt, pulling the fabric, pinning the lace. I didn't think about where Maine had gone; I didn't care. The less I saw of him, the less I had to remember the way he looked at "Miera."
I retreated to the backyard, the garden where I had performed my greatest theater. I sat on the grass, letting the silence of the morning scrub the residue of the maid's persona from my mind.
I didn't have long to find peace. The crunch of gravel announced her arrival before she even spoke.
Miera marched toward me, her face a familiar map of irritation. She wasn't wearing her usual calm; she looked frazzled, almost frantic.
"Roxy, what in the world did you do to my reputation? I walked into the kitchen this morning, and Sinel looked at me like I was a stranger! She said I was 'resourceful,' that I cleaned the dishes like a whirlwind, and then—dodgeball? With the Calico brothers? I have never touched a dodgeball in my life, and now they're asking me for a rematch!"
Miera snapped, stopping a few paces away. Then Plasma interrupted me through my mind.
"Hahahahaha, told you Roxy."
"Shut up."
Miera crossed her arms, her eyes flashing.
"And then, to top it all off, Maine approached me this morning with a look in his eyes that I have never seen before. He asked if I'd thought about his surprise. I didn't even know what he was talking about until I went to my room and found a gift on my vanity. You didn't tell me he gave me a gift!"
I couldn't help it; the absurdity of it broke through my stoicism, and a laugh bubbled up. It was a jagged, tired sound.
"I didn't know what was in it, Miera. I was just as curious as you are. So? Don't leave me hanging. What's inside the box?"
I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
Miera's face tightened, a flicker of something unreadable, maybe embarrassment, maybe awe, crossing her expression. She shifted her weight, looking away toward the horizon.
"It's a secret," she said, her voice unexpectedly soft.
She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and for a fleeting second, she looked less like a maid and more like a woman who had just realized she was the protagonist of a story she hadn't wanted to read.
I watched her, realizing she wasn't actually going to tell me. She was protective of it now. I shook my head, shifting the focus.
"Fine, keep your secrets. But you didn't come all this way just to yell at me about dodgeball and gifts. Why are you here, Miera?"
Her expression hardened again, the annoyance replaced by a sharp, sudden gravity. She stepped closer, her voice low.
"There's someone looking for you, Roxy, they're at the gates, and they don't look like they're here to play games."
"Who is it, Miera? I was awoken up a minute ago."
"See for yourself."
Knowing the sudden announcement, Miera and I left my resting place and headed at the manor's gates.
"We're here, Lady Roxy."
The heavy iron gates of the manor groaned as we swung them open, but the sound was drowned out by the sight that greeted us. My breath hitched, a cold shiver racing down my spine.
Standing by a scarred, travel-worn carriage were the faces I hadn't seen in weeks, the remnants of my old unit. The newly promoted silver-ranked adventurers.
I haven't seen them since the Rebelbub incident, we parted ways after that moment, but seeing their disheveled state makes my heart shatter.
They were a nightmare of bandages and dried blood. Natalie Haro stood slightly ahead of the others, her armor dented and her arm in a makeshift sling, while her brother, Ned, looked as if he had been stitched back together by a blind tailor. Barry Waters and Carin Borneque leaned heavily against each other, looking grey with exhaustion and pain.
"Oh my god,what happened to you? Who did this?" I gasped, the air leaving my lungs.
I started to rush toward them, my hands reaching out instinctively to steady them, but Natalie held up a hand. She didn't look like she was in the mood for comfort. Her eyes, sharp and scrutinizing even through the haze of pain, locked onto me. She ignored my concern entirely, her gaze traveling from my eyes down to the empty space where my left arm should have been.
"Hey, don't worry about us. Forget that for a second. Look at you. Your left arm, it's gone. And your fangs... your height... Roxy, what the hell happened to you?"
Natalie interrupted, her voice raspy.
"We finished the mission,"
Ned rasped, his voice sounding like grinding stones. He was wrapped in so much gauze he looked like a statue being unwrapped. He continued.
"We've been out since the Rebelbub incident. We finally tracked you down, but this... this isn't the partner we left behind. What happened to you?"
The questions hit me like physical blows. They were looking at a version of me that had been irrevocably altered by battle and desperation. I could feel Miera shifting uneasily beside me, her eyes wide with the realization that my past had just caught up to me, and it was significantly more dangerous than a disgruntled maid or a matchmaking Maine.
"Stop,"
I said, my voice firmer than I felt. I couldn't let them stand here at the gate, bleeding out and asking questions that would draw unwanted eyes from the rest of the manor staff.
"We can't do this here. You're all half-dead, and you're attracting attention."
I gestured toward the manor, my movements stiff.
"Let's go to the dining room. There's leftover food from last night, and we need to get you all seated before you collapse. We can talk there. We can talk about everything."
I turned, giving them no room to argue, and led them toward the grand doors. My heart was racing. They were here, they were broken, and they were the only people who knew the real me. I had successfully managed a lie for an entire manor, but could I manage the truth for them?
The silence in the dining hall was broken only by the frantic, animalistic scrape of silverware against china. My former unit, heroes who had once held the line against entire legions, were reduced to huddling over plates, devouring the leftovers of last night's stew with a desperation that twisted my gut.
"Feel free, eat until you can't anymore. There's plenty." I murmured, my voice tight.
Natalie paused, a piece of crusty bread halfway to her mouth. Her eyes, usually so sharp and predatory, were dulled by weeks of starvation and adrenaline. She looked at the frantic pace of her companions, then back at me, a flicker of shame crossing her tired features.
"Sorry, Roxy, we haven't had a real meal in weeks. The trail... it didn't leave us much room to stop."
I couldn't watch them struggle through hunger any longer. I leaned over to Miera, who had been standing guard in the shadows.
"Miera, forget the leftovers. Go to the kitchen. Tell Sinel to fire up the stoves. I want the best, most nourishing food they have. Something that can put some blood back into their veins."
Miera gave me a sharp, knowing nod. She didn't hesitate; she turned and vanished into the kitchen, her movements efficient and devoid of the annoyance she'd shown earlier. She understood that, for all my deception, these people were my family.
When the last of the food was gone, and I mean everything, down to the very last drop of broth, a heavy, somber stillness settled over the table. The adrenaline that had kept them upright began to fade, replaced by the hollow reality of their survival.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself.
"You said you finished the mission. But the bureau wouldn't send a silver-ranked unit out for a simple scout. What did they send you into?"
The question hung in the air, and for a long moment, nobody spoke. Then, Carin Borneque shifted. Her hands, which were bandaged in thick layers of linen, began to tremble. She looked up, her eyes wide, staring at a point behind me that wasn't there.
"Roxy. It was Caria. They sent us to defend the capital... but it wasn't just monsters."
She took a shaky breath, her gaze fixing on mine.
"The bureau lied to us. We were supposed to fend off a surge, but we walked into a slaughterhouse. There were immoral knights everywhere… twisted, strong, and completely devoid of honor. They weren't fighting like soldiers; they were hunting."
Carin's hands clutched the edge of the table so hard her knuckles turned white.
"We were surrounded. A hundred monsters, all of them converging on the capital gates. We thought we were done for, that we were going to die in the mud. But then... then he arrived."
Her voice softened, laced with a mix of awe and lingering terror.
"Elias. Your brother. He moved like a storm, Roxy. He went straight for the Immoral Knights, and I swear to you, I saw him nearly kill one. He repelled the entire horde, cleared the path, and bought us just enough time to drag our wounded bodies out of the meat grinder."
My heart stopped. Elias.
My brother. The man who had been a shadow in my life for years was suddenly the only reason my friends were alive. I looked at the bandaged, broken survivors around the table, and for the first time, the mission didn't feel like a history lesson. It felt like a warning.
"Brother, I hope he's okay."
My knuckles whitened as I gripped the edge of the table. The anger wasn't just a flicker; it was a wildfire, hot and suffocating.
"And the Bureau? After Caria... after they threw you into a meat grinder against monsters and those... knights... what did they do? Did they offer support? Did they help you recover?"
I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the effort to keep it contained.
Natalie looked at me, her expression chillingly placid. It was the calmness of someone who had seen the bottom of a well and had simply decided to stop looking up.
"We retired, Roxy, combat... it's not for us anymore. The trauma, the losses... it's no joke. The Bureau gave us a severance package. Enough for healing. Enough to disappear."
Natalie said, her tone devoid of its usual sharp edge.
My heart burned. They were treating my friends like faulty equipment, used until they cracked, then tossed aside with a payout to keep them quiet. To the Bureau, we weren't people; we were just assets with a shelf life.
"They're monsters," I hissed, the words feeling like acid.
Natalie leaned in, her eyes softening as she watched my reaction. She reached out with her uninjured hand, covering mine.
"Don't, Roxy. It's over for us. But... look at you." She gestured toward my frame, then to my mangled shoulder.
"Last week, we saw you. You were whole. You were healthy. Now, you look like you've been through a war of your own. Tell us. If your brother sees this state. I'll swear he'll skin us."
I looked around the table. Ned, Carin, Barry... they were all waiting. They were the only people in the world who deserved the truth, even if it sounded like madness.
I took a deep breath, the confession spilling out in a rush. I told them about the sickness that ravaged Town Allure, the desperate hunt for the Goblin King, and the fight for the cure that had cost me more than just a limb. I told them about the grueling exhaustion, the choices made in the dark, and my decision to hang up my own sword.
"I'm retired, too," I concluded, the silence that followed heavy with the weight of our shared past.
As I spoke, I realized my mask had slipped. My fangs... a trait I usually kept carefully hidden beneath my lip... were now fully visible, elongated and sharp. Natalie's eyes locked onto them, her brow furrowing in a mix of concern and confusion.
"Roxy, what is that? That isn't... that's not normal."
Natalie said softly, pointing to the fangs.
I ran my tongue over them, the metallic tang of old battles ghosting through my mind.
"It's a remnant of the path I had to take to survive, it's a human skill... a curse, really. The Blood Curse. It allows me to consume blood to push my stats beyond human limits. It's how I stayed alive, and it's why I'm... different."
I didn't wait for them to recoil. I just stared at the table, waiting for the pity, the fear, or the judgment. They had come here seeking their old comrade, but all they'd found was a broken, blood-cursed shadow of the girl they used to know.
The heavy atmosphere of confession shattered the moment Miera pushed through the kitchen doors. She carried a massive iron pot, the steam curling into the air and bringing with it the rich, intoxicating aroma of slow-cooked meat, herbs, and root vegetables. It was a scent that promised warmth, safety, and life.
The reaction was instantaneous. The sorrow that had been clinging to my friends like a shroud vanished, replaced by a raw, primal need. Natalie, Ned, Barry, and Carin didn't even wait for bowls; as Miera set the pot down on the table with a firm clunk, they surged forward. They were like shipwrecked sailors finding a well in the desert, their hands trembling not from trauma this time, but from the desperate hope of a real meal.
I watched them, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the knot of tension in my chest uncoiled. My face, which had been tight with the strain of secrets and survival, finally softened. A genuine, radiant smile broke across my lips.
"Take your time. There's plenty." I said, my voice thick with emotion.
Miera stood by the pot, a ladle in her hand and a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. She watched them eat with the discerning eye of someone who knew the value of good food, her presence a grounding force amidst the chaos.
Seeing them here, despite the scars, despite the bandages, and despite the heavy toll the mission had taken on them, I felt a wave of relief so powerful it made my vision blur. They were alive. They had made it back. My friends, the ones who had fought beside me in the mud and the blood, were finally safe within these manor walls.
The room, which had felt like a place of secrets and masquerades only moments ago, suddenly felt like a home. I wasn't just a maid, or a spy, or a broken adventurer anymore. I was a friend, and for the first time since the carnage began, the future didn't look like a battlefield. It looked like a recovery.