Patiently enduring their relentless pampering, Rita finally let out a helpless chuckle.
“If you keep piling food on my plate, I’m going to burst. Please, have some yourselves.”
“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry. I suppose I got carried away…”
“M-My apologies.”
“Quite right. Go ahead and eat comfortably, Lili.”
After that, they made an agonizing effort to avert their eyes. Yet the moment Rita glanced toward a condiment, it was passed to her before she could even ask. Whenever she showed the slightest favor to a dish, the platter slid gently in her direction. They were trying desperately to look indifferent, but every ounce of their focus remained pinned squarely on her.
It was somewhat smothering, but knowing where it came from kept her from minding. Rita ate while a strange, ticklish warmth pooled in her chest.
‘I really did miss this.’
Before her memories returned, she had merely marveled at the lavish, unfamiliar feast. Now, she recognized nearly every bite as a flavor from her distant childhood. After so many years, not a single one had changed.
Once the plates were cleared, the Duchess hesitated for a moment before broaching a question.
“Lili, would you like to accompany me into town for some shopping?”
“…Shopping?”
“You hardly have a single dress to wear right now. We can have formal gowns made later, but for now we should pick out a few ready-made outfits. You’ll be needing plenty of other necessities as well. It would also be a lovely chance to see how the city has changed.”
At their mother’s timid invitation, Richard grinned and cut in.
“Mother, won’t you need an escort to carry all the packages? You simply must take me along.”
Leonhart smiled warmly as well.
“Duty keeps me here, unfortunately, but I think it’s a wonderful idea. Lili, what do you say?”
Rita had never experienced a leisurely shopping trip in her life, nor had fine clothes ever crossed her mind. Still, looking into her mother’s wide, hopeful gaze, she found it impossible to say no.
“All right. Let’s go.”
***
They departed Birch Castle after a somewhat reluctant send-off from Leonhart. Though Richard insisted he would serve as their guard, etiquette and standing demanded that two house knights ride along as well, one of them an amethyst knight pledged to Richard.
With the Duchess’s maid, Nancy, and Lilietta’s personal maid, Hannah, rounding out the party, the simple outing swelled into a considerable entourage. A single coach was out of the question; they had to hire two. Emblazoned with the ducal crest on both carriages and liveries, there was no chance they would pass unnoticed.
‘Right. This is how high nobility travels. Everyone will be staring.’
Having spent years living as Rita, moving solely in the shadows and staying out of sight, the reality made her tense up.
‘Too many eyes on me will only make me twitchy. If I’m not careful, my reflexes might harm someone innocent. I need to unwind. This isn’t the Ashen Sun. There’s no need to stay on high alert.’
If she strayed too far from the Lili they remembered, it would only raise suspicions.
‘Even if I catch a whiff of patchouli, I can’t draw blood. If a stranger makes a sudden move or acts suspiciously, no headshots. Limbs only.’
Her fingers unconsciously grazed the pistol Leonhart had handed her. Across the carriage, Richard was eyeing her with keen interest.
“Where on earth did you get that? Looks an awful lot like one of Father’s old collector’s pieces from the vault…”
“Leon gave it to me.”
‘So it was Father’s collection.’
That explained why Leonhart had parted with it so casually.
A memory surfaced of the Duke’s deep passion for hunting. It made complete sense that his interest would have extended to acquiring rare firearms.
Digging deeper into her past, she vaguely remembered sitting in his lap as a child, his large, rough hands curling over hers as he let her hold a revolver. Her mother had almost swooned on the spot before thoroughly chewing him out.
‘Did my fascination with guns come from him?’
She looked down at the silver frame inlaid with delicate golden filigree. By the standards of her old world, it was an obsolete relic, but here, it was undoubtedly an exceptional firearm.
‘…If I tell him I enjoy shooting too, would he be pleased?’
A sudden ache of yearning struck her. She wanted to see her father. She found herself wishing the Duke would finish his business in the capital and hurry home.
Richard cocked his head. “Leon actually handed that over to you?”
“I asked for it.”
“…What could you possibly need a firearm for?”
“It’s a weapon I know how to use. I feel far more at ease having it within arm’s reach.”
“Huh…”
A complicated shadow fell across Richard’s face. Anticipating his reaction, Rita merely offered a faint smile.
“Does it sound strange to call a gun a weapon?”
“That’s odd enough… but what’s stranger is you saying you feel uneasy without one. You of all people.”
“I take it Leon didn’t share much about what happened while I was away.”
“He warned me not to pry. Said you weren’t comfortable talking about it yet.”
“I see.”
“Since we’re on the subject, though, mind if I ask? Where were you all these years, and what did you go through?”
“Well, that’s quite a long story—”
“We’ve arrived!”
The Duchess’s lively voice cut in just as the carriage ground to a halt. Taking Richard’s hand, Rita stepped down onto the cobblestones. They had stopped before a grand, opulent boutique. Just as she had feared, the second she stepped outside, dozens of stares locked onto her.
Pedestrians froze where they stood, murmuring and stretching their necks to glimpse the Laskail crest. It had been a full decade since the family had appeared in the city like this, making a commotion inevitable.
‘I need to get inside.’
Feeling her nerves fray, Lilietta hurried toward the entrance. Inside, the staff looked utterly flabbergasted by the sudden arrival of the Duchess, who had retreated from society ever since her daughter went missing. A woman came rushing out to receive them in a flurry of bows.
“If you had only sent word, I would have attended Your Grace at the estate at once! What honors us with your presence…”
The silver-haired designer cut herself off mid-sentence, her eyes locking onto the young woman standing beside the Duchess. Her breath hitched.
“Gracious… who might this lovely young lady be?”
“My daughter,” the Duchess answered, her voice trembling with pride.
The designer’s jaw dropped.
“C-Could she be the missing young lady of Laskail? From ten years ago?”
“Indeed. She returned home safe and sound only a few days ago, and she requires a proper wardrobe immediately.”
“Merciful heavens! Oh, Your Grace, congratulations! I am overjoyed for you, truly!”
Clapping her hands, the designer rattled off orders to her attendants. In no time at all, the party was ushered into a lavish private salon.
While the Duchess and the proprietress exchanged excited chatter, attendants drew curtains across a corner to create a dressing area. Soon, rolling racks loaded with resplendent gowns and colorful silks began parading into the room.
A prickle of cold sweat slid down Rita’s spine.
‘…So patchouli really is in fashion. It wasn’t an exaggeration.’
The distinctive scent drifted from the fabrics, thickening with every rack that rolled through the doorway. Rita bit down hard on her inner lip, struggling against the irrational urge to draw her pistol and shred the dresses to ribbons.
‘Calm down, Rita Pascal. There are no demonic beasts lurking in those garments. You swept the area with Od and found nothing. They don’t even exist in this world. Breathe. Settle your mind.’
“Wait—no, stop that at once!”
Hannah, who had been lingering quietly behind the sofa, cried out. Nancy frowned, moving to scold the younger maid for her breach of decorum, but Hannah shouted before she could speak.
“They reek of patchouli! Milady cannot stand that scent!”
“Pardon?”
“What on earth are you—?” The Duchess glanced toward Rita, only to gasp in horror. “Lili!”
“…Yes?”
“Your lip! It’s bleeding! Good heavens, what happened…?”
“…Oh.”
Rita raised a finger to her mouth and hastily wiped the crimson smear away with the back of her hand.
“It’s nothing. They were just chapped.”
“It is certainly not nothing! It is that wretched patchouli!” Hannah stormed over to the racks. “Take these away this instant! Get rid of anything carrying that foul smell!”
The flustered shop assistants scrambled to wheel the racks back out, shooting nervous glances at the pale girl dabbing her bloody lip. Hannah threw the salon windows wide open to let the crisp breeze flood in. As the oppressive aroma drifted away, the knot in Rita’s chest slowly uncoiled.
‘Damn it. Even when my Od detects nothing, a strong enough scent still trips my alarms.’
Keeping her hand pressed against her stinging mouth, Rita looked over at the maid.
“Thank you, Hannah.”
“Lili, are you truly all right?”
Pale with distress, the Duchess pulled out a clean handkerchief to gently wipe the blood from her daughter’s knuckles. Rita managed a reassuring smile.
“I’m fine, Mother. I’m just terribly sensitive to that particular perfume.”