Evelyne was waiting for them when Scarlett and Rosa returned to the carriage. The younger woman glanced at the books in Rosa’s hands, then looked to Scarlett.
“…You didn’t buy anything?” she asked.
“I did,” Scarlett replied, settling into her seat. With a casual thought, her fur cloak vanished, and she motioned at the [Pouch of Holding] she’d placed beside her.
Evelyne eyed the pouch, nodded to herself, then turned to Rosa. “What did you get?”
Rosa smiled and set three books on the seat next to her. “Oh, nothing too thrilling. A bit of Reflections on Mortal Souls here, a dash of Forbidden Tales of Lady Idris and Her Unlaced Secrets there. You know, the usual.”
Evelyne blinked, her cheeks colouring.
“That was not its title,” Scarlett said, watching the street outside.
“Oh? So you do rember the real one? That’s a tad suspicious, isn’t it?” Rosa teased.
Scarlett turned to give the bard a single, unamused look before returning her gaze to the passing scenery.
It wasn’t her fault she had a good mory, but she knew that defending herself against Rosa’s remarks was a losing battle.
“That’s, um…” Evelyne hesitated, her voice lowering. “It’s not actually that improper, is it?” She leaned towards Rosa, as if worried soone might overhear. Who, exactly, Scarlett couldn’t guess. Maybe the coachman?
Rosa shrugged. “Who knows? I haven’t actually checked yet. Mostly bought it to scandalise Lady Composure over here.”
Once again, Scarlett wisely chose to hold her tongue. She heard the rustling of paper as Rosa opened one of the books. A few seconds later, the bard released a scandal-struck gasp.
“W-What is it?” Evelyne asked, sounding alard.
“It’s outrageous!” Rosa cried. “This woman isn’t even a lady! She’s the lady’s maid. I’ve been lied to!”
A short silence filled the cabin.
“…You’re terrible,” Evelyne muttered. “I don’t know why my sister hired you.”
Rosa laughed lightly. “The fact that she did is just one more testant to my many charms.”
Scarlett glanced over as the bard shut the book and set it aside. Evelyne leaned back, wearing a slightly miffed expression. For a brief mont, her eyes happened to et Scarlett’s. She paused, as though on the verge of speaking, but then turned to the window.
The carriage continued through Freybrook, gradually making its way to the city’s central districts. Storefronts grew more frequent, and despite the chill, a modest flow of people filled the streets. Scarlett had no particular plans beyond visiting the bookstore—at least none that wouldn’t earn her more nagging from Rosa—so she decided to leave the rest of the outing’s itinerary in the bard’s hands.
To any reasonable person, that might’ve seed questionable. Scarlett certainly had her reservations, too. But to her surprise, Rosa didn’t imdiately steer them to so overly garish or suspect establishnt. Instead, their next stop was at a shop that appeared to sell clothing, albeit sowhat simpler and more modest than what Scarlett was accustod to wearing.
Before stepping out of the carriage, Scarlett shot the bard a skeptical look. Rosa responded with an expression of mock injury.
“What? I’m not so villain who’d intentionally drag you sowhere you’d hate,” she said with a huff. “It might be a little…humble compared to what you’re used to, but I’ve got a purse of my own to think of, you know. Besides, you could use sothing more casual in case you ever need to play the part of an incognito noblewoman.”
Scarlett arched a brow but said nothing. She had been the one to give Rosa the freedom to decide.
Evelyne opted to stay behind in the carriage again, though Rosa promised to keep an eye out for sothing that might suit her. Scarlett, having no particular items in mind, let the bard lead once they entered the shop.
The establishnt clearly catered to more well-off commoners and modestly affluent clients. While it didn’t stock many ready-made garnts beyond a few displays, there was a generous selection of fabric samples and accessories. Even Scarlett found a few options that she might almost consider wearing in a more casual or informal setting. Not sothing she would have picked on her own without Rosa’s insistence, but tolerable enough to entertain the idea.
After placing a few orders and leaving, they made several more stops around Freybrook’s central district. Rosa led them to small artisan galleries showcasing handmade crafts and paintings — places she’d visited before and thought Scarlett might enjoy. They also explored a music emporium filled with rare instrunts and sheet music. On top of that, Rosa asked Evelyne for recomndations on places favoured by nobility, which led them to luxury boutiques and jewellery shops the original Scarlett had apparently frequented.
At one such establishnt, Scarlett even made a couple of minor purchases, though that was more to fuel Rosa’s envy than from actual need.
Later, as they left a jeweller specialising in custom pieces, Scarlett found herself absently staring out the carriage window, watching snow-covered buildings pass by.
She wondered if she was using this ti well. Not in terms of productivity, but in terms of genuinely unwinding.
Admittedly, she hadn’t entirely disliked the stops they’d made. The galleries and emporium had actually been rather interesting, offering her a glimpse into so of the cultural elents and artistry of this world. The boutiques and speciality shops, anwhile, had a certain charm that appealed to her tastes as ‘Scarlett Hartford’.
And despite the occasional frustration brought on by Rosa’s constant chatter and playful antics, Scarlett did enjoy the woman’s company. In truth, this outing would have been far less bearable without it.
Even so, was this ‘relaxing’? Was she enjoying herself more than she would have at the mansion, simply talking with Rosa or the others over tea? Was this outing offering her anything of real value beyond novelty?
She honestly wasn’t sure. The fact that she even questioned it felt like proof she was doing sothing wrong. Relaxation shouldn’t be this complicated. Maybe she would have been better off in her study, taking a nap or reading. That might have been more productive, and she could probably have convinced Garside it was just as worthwhile.
Had she always been this bad at these things? She didn’t think so. Back in her old world, she’d had gas, books, and shows to escape into when she wasn’t working. There were stretches of her life filled with friends, with late nights exploring the city and attending events. She hadn’t been the most outgoing, but she’d certainly been better at this sort of thing than she was now.
It made her wonder if this difficulty was a recent developnt brought on by her circumstances, or if it was the result of her own personality mixing with the original Scarlett’s. Either way, she wasn’t sure how much it really mattered.
So what if she wasn’t great at relaxing in the conventional sense? It wasn’t as though she was liable to collapse from stress anyti soon. As long as she handled what needed to be done in the events that were to co, nothing else was that important. Sacrificing personal ease wasn’t a particular hardship — it ca more naturally to her than it probably did to most.
Her gaze drifted to a family of three crossing the street. The parents carried small bundles in their arms, while their son trailed behind, stamping his feet through the snow and blowing into his hands. They stopped in front of a half-ruined building, its walls fractured and broken from the monster attacks. The entrance had been almost completely destroyed, parts of the structure exposed to the cold.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not ant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Scarlett watched as the father set down his bundle and lifted his son, helping him climb in through a jagged, half-boarded window. The mother followed, and then the father, squeezing through last. She kept watching until they disappeared into the shadows inside.
Further down the street, more hos bore signs of damage — cracked walls, broken roofs, boarded-up windows.
Freybrook hadn’t seen any further monster incursions since the first wave, but parts of the city still carried the scars. Reconstruction had been slow. Freybrook, spared compared to other regions and situated on a key trade route, had seen many of its resources diverted to other places in greater need. The people left in these damaged districts either couldn’t afford repairs or lacked the ans to handle them alone.
And yet, life here seed to continue much as it always had.
Scarlett turned from the window, only to notice Evelyne watching the sa building. The younger woman’s eyes flicked to her, then back to the street as the carriage turned a corner and the ruined hos slipped out of view.
“…I’ve found myself hating how often I think about how lucky we were,” Evelyne murmured after a while. “Freybrook suffered so little compared to places like Autumnwell. The reports I’ve read about what’s happening there now… I can’t imagine if that were us. And yet, there are people who live like this, even here.”
Scarlett studied her quietly. She’d often wondered what Evelyne thought about her connection to the Tribe’s attacks on the empire. Evelyne knew Scarlett had foreseen the events. She also knew she’d sohow played a part in Freybrook escaping the worst of the attacks. Did Evelyne bla her for not doing more? For not doing everything within her power to warn and prepare the empire?
If she did, the woman never voiced it. But it would almost be strange if Evelyne didn’t harbour so light judgent. She was far more sentintal than Scarlett, after all.
“Oi,” Rosa’s voice cut through the silence. “We can feel sad and wallow any other day, but this carriage? Official no-brooding zone. No sad stares. No wistful sighs. Absolutely zero doe-eyed lancholy.”
Evelyne turned to her with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I didn’t an to drag the mood down.”
Rosa gave an exaggerated shake of her head. “You two are hopeless. The mont sothing serious cos up, it’s all doom, gloom, and scheming to trick the next world-ending demigod into behaving. Is this a Hartford family thing? Both of you act like the world’s one big puzzle that needs solving.”
Evelyne’s eyes widened. She glanced between Rosa and Scarlett. “I-I’m not… She… We’renothing alike.”
“Obviously,” Rosa said. “A blindfolded squirrel could’ve pegged that fact. But co on, you are both terrible at taking it easy. Everything’s a problem to fix. A burden to carry.” She released a drawn-out sigh. “Look, ignoring the problems around you can be bad—believe , I’ve made an art of it since I first cranked a klert—but never ignoring them isn’t much better.”
Her tone softened, turning almost reflective. “Sotis you’ve got to let yourself breathe. Otherwise, you’ll suffocate under the weight of it all. Balance. It’s not just for tightrope walkers.”
She turned to Scarlett. “And yes, I’m looking at you in particular, Miss Everything-Is-A-Mission.”
Scarlett t her gaze. She wasn’t entirely convinced the critique applied fully, but it wasn’t without rit.
“I will…endeavour to take your advice into account,” she said.
Judging by Rosa’s raised eyebrows, she was clearly skeptical. “I think I’ll believe it when I see it, thank you very much.”
“Very well.” Scarlett turned back to the window as the conversation faded. The carriage rolled through Freybrook. Rosa and Evelyne eventually returned to light small talk, though Scarlett didn’t join in.
The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the city. Soon, the streets would be cloaked in darkness, save for the glow of the occasional streetlamp along the larger avenues. Scarlett assud this ant they’d head back to the mansion, but to her surprise, the carriage ca to a halt outside a quaint building with an arched entrance. A small stream of people was filing inside.
When she asked, Rosa revealed—far too gleefully—that this was one of Freybrook’s smaller theatres, or “Players’ Halls”, and that a play was about to begin. Apparently, Garside had been serious when he suggested Scarlett see a performance. She hadn’t expected tickets to be available on such short notice, but perhaps that wasn’t surprising. The city wasn’t in peak condition, and theatre was likely a luxury few indulged in right now.
This ti, Evelyne did join them as they stepped out of the carriage. A well-dressed attendant t them at the entrance. After a brief exchange, they were led to a private box — a modest space, partially enclosed, but with a clear view of the stage. The room itself was small, likely not built for nobility, but the staff had made an effort to accommodate her.
Scarlett couldn’t quite decide how she felt about it all, though she did make a conscious effort not to appear too aloof or unapproachable. When the play began, the audience was sparse—perhaps a third of the seats filled—but a hush quickly fell. Even Rosa went quiet.
She hadn’t expected to enjoy it. Theatre had never been her preferred form of entertainnt. At most, she’d sat through the occasional holiday play or a Broadway recording that made it to DVD. Sothing about the rawness of live performances—the lack of buffer between the actor and audience—always made it harder for her to imrse herself in the story.
At least, that’s how it had been. This ti, she found herself surprised by how little it bothered her. The troupe’s actors were skilled—if Rosa’s occasional whispered comntary was to be trusted—and the story was…compelling enough.
Still, she couldn’t help but notice the subject matter. The focus on two estranged sisters and their complex relationship felt a bit too pointed and coincidental.
Surely Garside hadn’t orchestrated that. It didn’t seem like him.
Scarlett frowned slightly as she watched the drama unfold: one sister, dutiful and restrained, weighed down by expectations she was determined to live up to; the other, rebellious and unbound, chafing against every responsibility placed on her. Their strained bond was marked by misunderstandings and clashing ideals, pushing them to confront what sisterhood truly ant to them.
So scenes felt almost like they were deliberate jabs at her. The idea was absurd—neither of the sisters bore any real resemblance to her—but it did strike uncomfortably close to ho when the elder sister berated the younger, rebellious one for the company she kept, or when the younger refused to engage, out of nothing but stubborn defiance.
The play wound its way towards reconciliation and self-discovery, though the ending stayed bittersweet with the elder sister’s death. As the curtain fell and the audience began to applaud, Scarlett rose and left the private box with Evelyne and Rosa, offering no real comnt.
Back in the carriage, the mood was subdued, wrapped in the hush of the settling evening.
“Sooo,” Rosa eventually said, drawing out the word. “What’d you two think?”
“I…liked it,” Evelyne replied. “Although I don’t understand why it had to end so tragically. Couldn’t they have left it on a more hopeful note? The older sister didn’t have to sacrifice herself.”
“Beats .” Rosa shrugged. “Maybe they thought a little heartbreak would make it more morable.” She turned to Scarlett. “What about you? What’s your grand verdict?”
Scarlett t Rosa’s gaze, eyeing her closely. “…The narrative’s pacing felt uneven at tis, but overall, it was an adequate performance.”
“That’s high praise coming from you.” Rosa grinned, though that grin soon faltered into a playful pout. “Hey, wait — how co you’ve never said anything like that about my performances?”
“I wonder,” Scarlett replied flatly.
She looked away, her gaze brushing past Rosa and landing briefly on Evelyne, who was watching her with curious intent.
“…Did you really like it, Scarlett?” Evelyne asked.
Scarlett was quiet for a mont, then gave a slow nod. “So of its thes were…if not profound, then compelling to reflect on.”
Evelyne’s eyebrows lifted in faint surprise, but before she could respond, Rosa clapped her hands.
“Oh! I just rembered — I’ve got a quick errand to run.” The bard knocked twice on the side of the carriage, and it ca to a smooth stop. Standing, she pulled a thicker coat from inside her enchanted cape.
“Don’t wait up. I’ll find my way back to the mansion sohow,” she said cheerfully. “Try not to miss too much — and Scarlett, rember to unfrown every now and then. Toodles!”
“W-What? Wait—” Evelyne began, but Rosa had already flung the door open and leapt out into the night. She gave one final wave before vanishing down the darkened street.
The carriage started moving again. Evelyne stared after Rosa, her mouth slightly open, while Scarlett kept her expression carefully neutral.
A silence followed — awkward, as if faintly expectant. The only sound was the soft creak of the wheels.
Scarlett turned her head toward Evelyne and t her eyes.
“…You think she did that on purpose?” Evelyne asked.
“Undoubtedly,” Scarlett said.
Even for Rosa, that had been unsubtle.
Evelyne gave a short, restless laugh. “Yeah. I figured…”
The silence returned. Scarlett studied her, noting the slight fidget in Evelyne’s hands, the way her gaze kept flitting to the floor.
Scarlett was annoyed at Rosa. It was hard not to after such a stunt. She’d make sure the bard knew her displeasure later. That said…
She couldn’t deny that Rosa had left her and Evelyne with a valuable opportunity. They were overdue for a talk. And maybe it was better to have it here — outside the formality of Scarlett’s office, or the constraint of Evelyne’s sickbed.
Just as Scarlett opened her mouth to speak, Evelyne beat her to it.
“Do you think we could talk a bit, Scarlett?” Her voice was quiet, but there was a note of resolve in it. She lifted her eyes to et Scarlett’s.
Scarlett raised a brow. So they were thinking along the sa lines. She gave a slight nod. “Go ahead.”
Evelyne paused, her gaze dropping again as she seed to gather her thoughts. “I wanted to—”
The carriage jolted to a sudden halt. The horses neighed sharply outside. Evelyne blinked, startled, as the cabin door swung open.
A single figure stepped inside.
Evelyne’s eyes went wide, and a heavy scowl settled on Scarlett’s face.
The figure sat down across from Scarlett, smoothing out a velvet dress with familiar precision. Two pairs of amber eyes t.
“It has been so ti,” the other Scarlett said.
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