Chapter 41.5 – Nighttime Musings (1/2)

The nearing middle aged dwarf buried herself under her thin bed sheet as she pressed her face into her hard pillow.

(I did it! I really did it!)

Her small body wiggled around on the bed restlessly as her mind kept re-experiencing that one moment a short while before.

(I really kissed her. In all my 73 years, I finally kissed someone. And it was someone so much like the legend. And it was a woman at that. To think I would end up kissing a woman...)

But no matter where her thoughts took her, her heart beat like a stampede and her face hot like the sun. Philia felt those feeling so strongly for the first time in her long, slow life. She felt like a youthful girl chasing her first crush.

The young woman who appeared out of nowhere and found her way into everyone's hearts, even deeper than the person herself even realized or would acknowledge. The woman who's heart, on the surface, seemed greater than any she had ever seen, far greater than most who were lauded for their generosity. Yet her self-esteem was so low.

She saw her own gifts as curses, and even blamed herself for them.

It wasn't possible. It didn't make sense why she would blame herself for them, but she still did. Even if, on the impossible chance that it was somehow her doing, it wasn't something for her to be blamed for. No, Philia refused that thought.

Seeking out beauty excessively was a fault, one that many had. But Scarlet didn't seem to be the sort to be too concerned over it. She kept herself clean, she smelled nice due to her scented soaps, and she put a bit of effort into her appearances. But it was obviously much less than what Philia suspected that the nobility did, despite Scarlet having many of the same rumoured habits.

No, even before that, Scarlet was surprised by her own beauty. That wasn't the reaction of someone who obsessed over it. It was someone who cared little of it. Most likely, Scarlet's habits weren't related to beauty, but were to satisfy something else entirely. If so, then there was no way she would've been the sort to have ever went to great lengths to change herself for the sake of vanity.

So thus, Philia firmed her belief that Scarlet wasn't to blame for her appearances. No matter what she had gone through in the past, even if she somehow did the impossible and changed her appearance, she had no reason to be blamed for it.

But there was also the matter of her race. For a while, the dwarf had the niggling suspicion in regards to it, but due to their rarity, she wasn't able to connect the dots until Scarlet transformed in front of her eyes. It took all her will to suppress the surprise she felt when she saw those red eyes and fangs returned and revealed her true nature.

While it was a surprise, the words she gave still came from her heart. As callous as it was, she really felt that if the vampire in front of her couldn't hold back from sucking out her blood until her body ran cold, Philia felt that Scarlet would feel responsible and take over the orphanage in her stead. If she were to stay, the directer felt that the future of the orphanage would be much safer than in her own hands.

That said, she still believed that it was far from an ideal course of actions. Or rather, it was a pretty terrible way for things to go. The orphanage might be better off of it, but she believed that the vampire would likely be crushed by the guilt. And as a faint, secondary notion, Philia also felt that she would prefer not dying over this, even if she had already resolved to devote the rest of her life for the orphanage.

Aside from that, Philia felt that judging a person based on their race was foolish and short sighted. Vampires had a poor reputation, but she believed that individuals deserved not to be shackled by their peoples' reputations.

She did concede though, that her thoughts may have been effected by the belief that the legendary Scarlet was a vampire as well. While it was an often suppressed belief, Philia felt that it seemed to be most common though amongst those who carried parts of her legacy.

She felt it ironic that from the race with one of the darkest reputations, came one of the most generous and benevolent individuals.

(Even so...)

The gaunt dwarf thought back to the day the two met.

It was a wholly unremarkable day. At least, little different from the more recent norm that had started since a little while ago. Things had grown more difficult as of late. The donations had dwindled, and support was growing harder to come by.

To make matters worse, one of the children had gone missing days before.

But watching over dozens, it wasn't possible for her to spare the effort to search for a missing child. If the children couldn't find any clues while they sought out work or begged, there was nothing she could do.

On that day, a suspicious looking stranger came. But contrary to her expectation, she had saved Flix and Torii from dangerous men. Philia couldn't help but wonder if those men were connected to the missing child. Or maybe this suspicious woman was.

But it grew quickly apparent that this strange woman had nothing to do with any of it. She was simply a kind-hearted traveller. Most likely a rich one. Yet her actions and habits contradicted each other.

She would talk like a sheltered noble, yet be able to do the work of experienced servants. Her dress was poorly made, yet the glimpses that were visible suggested that her skin was unmarred by labour. Untouched by even the sun.

Of course, that latter bit was likely because she was a vampire.

The strange woman took steps to avoid drawing attention to that fact, yet the very act made it more and more certain in the dwarf's mind. She would talk with a closed mouth, yet if one looked closely, fangs could be seen. Her hat and hood were worn low, yet her crimson eyes were visible to those standing below her.

She set up many precautions, but the execution was half-hearted. It was only enough to fool casual observers. Not someone who worried about the identity of a person who had entered her home.

Simply put, she was a bit careless.

But the way she freely gave away food, how she laboured for the sake of the childrens' smiles, how she fixed up the orphanage with magic and supplied soft furs for all the childrens' beds. Despite doing all that, she disappeared before anyone realized what she had done.

Yet she came back the next day as if nothing happened.

Of course they wouldn't have forgotten. A single person appearing out of nowhere, bringing joy and happiness, generously giving away gifts like it was nothing. It was likely that nobody in that orphanage would ever forget.

And it became apparent to Philia: this person was pretty aimless.

This person, who carried the same name as the legendary person that inspired the creation of the very orphanage Philia lived and worked in, had very little direction in her life. It felt to her like she had a hole in her heart, but rather than deal with it, she was ignoring it. She put it aside until something makes itself known. But she didn't know how or where to find that something.

And thus she was aimless. Her destination was shrouded in mist, so she didn't know which way to go.

It was so unusual. A person with power and resources, yet gave both freely because she was so directionless. Because they held little value in her eyes.

To Philia, it was like discovering a person was a genius, but couldn't find anything she wanted to apply her talents to, so she simply helped out nearby problems for the meantime. But rather than feeling frustrated at such a genius not applying herself to something grand, Philia found it endearing. A little girl that needed help but didn't know how to ask. Perhaps to her a little sister?

As she watched the slightly childish vampire, that endearment had changed. Somehow, in only a few days time, her feelings had changed to more than simply endearing.

When she thought about it, she became certain. It was when Scarlet was in the bath. When Philia saw her wash Flix, the image of her being a little sister was shattered. That motherly care, the way she washed the little orphan with experienced hands. Altogether with that transcendent physical beauty that she had only seen hints to.

It was then that her feelings had blossomed. And it was then that she realized something: Scarlet wouldn't be able to reciprocate her feelings.

Philia's observations had caused her to reach a certain conclusion. One was that Scarlet wouldn't stay in this city for long. She had no reason to at least.

That thought was solidified when after the bath and the children were put to bed, the two spent some time to talk privately. There came some more realizations. The first, was that Scarlet was terribly naive when it came to interpersonal relationships. Especially the more intimate ones.

Philia was similar in that regard though. Specifically when it came to romantic relations. She herself had never really been in one, and came to believe that she would never experience feelings related to romance in her life. But Scarlet was slightly different. She didn't think romance was unrelated to her life. She had never known it's existence or had forgotten about it in it's entirety. Romance and attraction weren't to her things that other people experienced like for Philia. They were things she had no relations to at all.

At the very least, that was the impression she got, the way the silver haired vampire reacted when she was told that she was charming. The expression she made suggested that it wasn't a word she could associate herself with. Despite the fact that her charm was truly exceptional. Perhaps boundless.

Despite all that, Philia had developed a childish crush on her. Her entire life revolved around the orphanage. From her earliest memories being raised by the previous director, choosing to stay to help care for her younger siblings, then becoming the new director when the predecessor had passed. From foster sister to foster mother, the only love Philia had ever known was familial. No matter how much she desired romantic love when she was young, it eluded her.

When she finally knew it's heat for the first time, she couldn't not act on it. She couldn't bear to let the chance go. The surprise and confusion on the young beauty's face made the dwarf's heart pound even harder. The fact that there wasn't any obvious rejection made her face redder.

But in the end she thought to herself.

(Soon, my heart will feel like it's being shredded. But until then, until then, I'll relive that one moment over and over. My one and only love.)

The nearing middle-aged dwarf squirmed in bed like an adolescent in her first crush. Because that's what it was: her first crush.

And as all first crushes went, she understood deep down, it wasn't meant to be.

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”Just who was she?”

Once again, Martin Vermouth wondered as he closed up his store, [The Inner Beauty].

The day earlier, a girl in shabby looking clothes arrived to purchase soap. It was unusual to see such a person want a commodity only the rich or noble would desire. But unlike a thief, he saw that her hair was clean and glossy. It was well maintained beyond what most amongst even the aristocracy were capable of. And what little of her face she allowed to be seen under the wide brim of her hat suggested a life that knew not of labour nor hardship. Skin that was fit for a true princess.

To Martin, it was worth the risk. No, the risk was in displeasing such a customer that hid her true identity. In his mind, it was impossible that she was anyone ordinary. Those clothes must have been some sort of guise to hide her true identity.

Confirming his thoughts he assisted and guided her, showing his prided stock of soaps, the best the city had to offer. He was convicted of that fact.

To his astoundment, though he deigned to show it, the girl acted not like a customer he had borne witness to. The way she examined the shape, the colour, the texture, even the scent of the unscented soaps. The way she studied them was not like any patron he had served in the past.

No, if anything, it reminded him most of an artisan examining their rivals' wares.

As she did, Martin's nose descried the scent of milk and honey, along with an unfamiliar flower and fruit. Principally the scent of milk and honey enticed his attention. Perfumes were very common amongst the upper class, and even those that were not exhibited products of similar effects.

But milk and honey could not be used in such a way. Aside from slathering both directly to the skin, such an outcome wasn't achievable. But if that were what she had done, then there would have been telltale manifestation of such practice. Contrary to that, the scent, while not strong, was clear and distinct.

His only conjecture was that it was the corollary of the soap which she wished to sell.

If his augury was right, then it was imperative that he not offend her. For if he could propitiate her, then he may be able to secure a new product not seen elsewhere in the city. But if he was unable, then his woe instead would be for a rival store to win an privileged contract with her.

His intuition rarely failed him, and he accredited it to be one of the most august reasons for his success.

For that, Martin was especially dismayed when ill fortune reared it's ugly head.

Marquis Bacchus, the lord of this city, was well known to bear quite a few vices, and lacked the sobriety to not indulge in them too often.

As ill fate had it, that selfsame lord was perusing through the store's wares at the time this unknown customer had arrived. Even worse, he had noticed her presence, yet had not the presence of mind to perform etiquette befitting of his position.

Martin looked on in dismay as Lord Bacchus openly harassed and abused this mystery customer. But all prayers that he would lose interest went unanswered. As if to scorn him, the marquis escalated his actions.

At the eleventh-hour, when Martin feared that something irreversible would develop, he stepped in to pacify the uninhibited lord. Martin only barely managing to convince him to at least delay his activity so that his enterprise wouldn't enter the prying eye of the public.

Martin assuaged his distressed patron in the hopes that she would not be dissuaded from continuing business with his store, though he found it difficult to presume such a happening.

As she left, he hoped that his words would not simply delay the predicament, and that she wouldn't find herself further violated by the hands of the city's lord.

sigh

Martin truly wished to see what form of soap this visitor desired to sell. He hoped that she would come again. Even more than to acquire more money or out compete his rivals, but to see what if she had something that would shake his very heart.

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”Here's today's reports.”

At the adventurer's guild, the receptionist Lucy lay down a box of wooden planks beside the guild master's desk. Straightening her back, she glanced out the open window and peeked at the stars that were visible.

”Ah, thanks...you got something else?”