“Is this the lady you spoke of, sir?”

  Mary stood in front of Arnold, still wearing her faded dress. A small bonnet sat on her head, and her brown hair braided roughly, with stray strands framing her cheeks.

  She openly stared at Erin with unabashed curiosity. Her eyes were wide and lively, sweeping over the maid from head to toe.

  She smirked and leaned closer, elbowing Arnold lightly in the side.

  ‘This girl…’

  Did she seriously think he had bought flowers for Erin? Before any misunderstanding could spiral further, Arnold flicked her forehead with a finger.

  “Ouch! So mean!” Mary exaggerated the pain, clutching her head.

  “You wanna die?”

  “My apologies, sir!” Mary giggled, clearly enjoying herself, before sauntering away, skipped out of his reach.

  Erin watched the exchange in silence, her gaze complicated. There was confusion, a hint of admiration beneath it.

  “I wish to be like that, too…”

  “Like what?” Arnold catched the murmur.

  “Nothing, sir!” Erin hurriedly covered her mouth and shook her head, her cheeks warming.

  Earlier this morning, Arnold had contacted Mary and arranged for her to take care of Erin. The journey ahead would be dangerous, it was best to leave the girl in the village.

  The villagers seemed decent enough, she would be safe here. Besides, Erin’s family resided in this very village. It would be proper for him to essentially kidnap her.

  To be honest, he had grown quite fond of her. The girl had diligently helped clean the mansion and care for the horse. She had even taught some useful bits of everyday knowledge that Arriet, or rather, Isidora, might need in the future.

  ‘But…’ Arnold pondered, watching them. ‘Is it my imagination, or have they become far more casual with me lately?’

  He didn’t mind. He was not a real noble, just a cheap imitation wearing borrowed authority.

  It was simply a convenient guise to ensure others didn’t look down upon him. Pretending to be one was exhausting.

  “Take care of yourself.”

  He waved his hand dismissively and turned on his heel to leave.

  “Master Arnold, I…”

  “Hmm?” Arnold paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

  The girl fidgeted with the hem of her dress, her face flushing a deep crimson. She opened her mouth, then closed it, shaking her head.

  “Thank you for the… um, sir. Please send my regards to Miss Marion for me,” Erin stammered, then dropped into a curtsy.

  Arnold had bought it for both of them. For Erin and for Arriet.

  When Erin first saw it, her eyes had widened in shock. Her expression had shifted rapidly from confusion, to disbelief, to sheer embarrassment. She had stared at him as if he were some strange creature that had wandered into the wrong world.

  Arnold understood why. Otto had warned him how people might react to a man purchasing such intimate items for a woman. That was why he had let Arriet diffuse the situation instead.

  “He bought them for us, so we should say thank you, Erin!”

  That was what Arriet had said. And it worked. Erin had quickly dropped her guard.

  My… apology, sir. I didn’t think… please forgies me…” She hesitated, then added in a barely audible voice, blushing furiously. “I haven't used such luxurious things before… thank you.”

  Erin had never used such things before. At home, she relied on cloth rags, just as her mother had taught her.

  On rare occasions, if she worked for a well-off household and the lady was pleased, she might be given access to a sanitary apron, a newest product from the market.

  But for Erin and her family, such things were luxuries. Spending a whole shilling on something that would be thrown away afterward seemed a wasteful extravagance.

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  ‘These trashy parents. At least take care of your daughter properly.’

  Inside Arnold’s mind, Izzy shook her head in disdain. Although, she could understand the plight of the poor somewhat. How could they spare the time to care for their daughter's comfort if they barely had time to keep themselves alive?

  But they were still trash in her eyes. If they couldn’t provide for their family, they shouldn’t have brought her into this world in the first place!

  ‘Family… they were lucky.’

  Izzy was an orphan. A warm, loving family… it was a precious dream she had once yearned for. A fragile dream she once touched briefly. Someone who had changed her life, turning a scavenger into something more. Something human.

  Only those who had lost that warmth truly understood how precious it was.

  Izzy exhaled, pushing the unpleasant memories aside, and returned her focus fully to Arnold’s perspective.

  Mary waved her hand exaggeratedly.

  “Bye bye, sir. Pray we don’t cross paths again!”

  Arnold shot her a sidelong glance. They surely would not meet again. He would make sure of that.

  ‘Are you prepared?’

  As Arnold turned away from the village and walked back toward the mansion, Izzy asked in her mind, directing the question to Isa, who was currently in Arriet’s body.

  “Very prepared!!”

  Arriet’s voice rang out, brimming with enthusiasm, making Izzy snicker. Although her body was still frail, the girl’s spirits were as high as ever. It seemed the coin had not gone to waste.

  In the mansion’s front yard, their marionettes, Rudolph and Glen, moved the main body, the painting, down the steps. Jack watched from the sidelines, his gaze sweeping over the scattered belongings as he judged what should be taken and what should be left behind.

  They placed the portrait onto a wooden cart strapped to the horse. The cart itself had once belonged to Glen’s band, reclaimed after their deaths.

  It was fortunate. With the cart, they could plausibly pass themselves off as traveling merchants.

  They loaded the cart with wooden crates and miscellaneous decorations found in the attic, hoping to sell them later for quick coin. Everything was draped with cloth, hiding from prying eyes.

  As for Isa? She was already seated atop the cart, cheering.

  “Go, go! Let’s go, everyone!”

  Jack sighed and returned to his work without comment.

  Once Arnold returned, they officially departed the mansion grounds.

  Arnold moved ahead on foot, scanning the path. Glen walked by the side of the cart, while Jack held the reins, guiding the horse forward.

  Their remaining marionette, Rudolph, was left behind. Izzy needed to possess the bird to scout from above, and there was a limit to how many puppet slots she could use.

  Of course, they also maintained a proper distance between their vessels; specifically Arnold, Jack, and Arriet.

  Izzy had no intention of experiencing that unpleasant craving again, especially with two male vessels nearby. If either of them got too close to the female vessel, she feared something might spiral out of control.

  Still, they could endure the assault if the interaction was brief. That’s why Arnold and Arriet could meet and speak, though only for a limited time.

  The forest stretched endlessly before them, a sea of towering trees. The sun climbed higher into the sky, and Izzy judged it was likely noon. Light filtered through the canopy in fractured beams, illuminating drifting dust and patches of moss. The scene was breathtaking.

  However, only the scenery was beautiful. The dust and the damp made both Arnold and Jack feel distinctly uncomfortable.

  Arnold still wore his white flock coat. Jack had changed into a more formal long black coat with a cravat tied at his neck. He carried the eagle-headed cane, while Arnold held the exquisite golden knife.

  Naturally, Jack’s attire was not nearly as refined as Arnold’s.

  As for Arriet, they had dressed her suitably for travel. Her black chemise dress complemented her dark hair, layered beneath a fitted black corset, concealed by a camisole. Erin had helped with that part.

  Finally, she wore a black petticoat to hide her legs, simple black stockings, and black button boots.

  To put it simply, Arriet was now the embodiment of mourning, draped entirely in black.

  Izzy was quite satisfied with this, although—

  ‘This is too bland…’

  Yes, it did not sit well with Isa. The girl apparently found the lack of color rather dull.

  But who cared? The one making decisions was Izzy, anyway!

  ‘Hmph!’

  Erin had also brushed out Arriet's hair, leaving it unbraided for comfort. She even taught them how to braid it themselves. Isa, being a quick learner, picked it up easily.

  As they passed through the invisible barrier protecting the mansion, a wave of nausea washed over them all.

  “Ugh.”

  Arnold, Glen, and Isa all stumbled, falling to their knees in unison. The bird Izzy controlled grew dizzy and plummeted from the sky into a tree, and Jack, holding the reins, slumped against the cart.

  Yet, the horse looked perfectly fine.

  ‘Are we even weaker than the mind of a horse?’ Izzy couldn’t help but wonder.

  “Izzy…”

  Isa leaned against the side of the cart, speaking meekly.

  “Yes?” Regaining her senses, Izzy forced Arnold, Jack, and Glen back to their feet.

  “Can I throw up?”

  “You better not.”

  “Oke:<” Isa took out a waterskin and drank weakly.

  As expected, Arriet’s body was frail. Compared to two men, a corpse, a mouse, and a bird, she was by far the weakest among them.

  ‘What a strange combination,’ Izzy muttered to herself.