Spring 28, 1388
FIELDS
81 Strawberries — 22/36 Days (Masterwork) (1x1) — 81 tiles.
81 Potatoes — 2/20 Days (Masterwork) (1x2) — 162 tiles
GREENHOUSE NOT USED
SEED MAKERS
9 PEAS BEING CONVERTED (MASTERWORK)
CROPS BEING SOLD
72 PEAS @ 690 Silver (49680 Silver - 496 Gold, 80 Silver)
FINANCES
150 Gold Pieces (Clean)
265 Gold Pieces (Unlaundered)
84 Gold Pieces (Escrow)
Soft fingers rubbed against my scalp, moving in gentle circles. Amaril’s Gaze poured through the windows, His unwavering light warming the room with a loving, judgmental heat. My eyes slowly opened, and Ophelia’s face rested a breath away from mine. She smiled, leaning down and pecking my forehead.
“Did you sleep well, Lady Hart?”
“I did,” I groggily said, pushing myself up in the loungewear and pushing a bunny ear off my face. “You?”
“Are you asking if a vampire slept at night, Lady Hart? I used to sleep in the mornings to pass the time, but now that I am able to go where I please, that habit has also fallen out of favour,” she began, stroking my hair and guiding the hood off my head. “Today The Cockatrice will be opening. I have selected attire befitting a priestess of Nyla—and our Dark Mother, of course. It is absurd that the Winter Court treats a [Wizard] as a priestess while ignoring actual [Clerics], but we shall look the part regardless.”
I didn’t linger in bed. The farm had never tolerated drowsy girls, and my feet hit the floorboards before I fully registered I was awake — a reflex honed by years of chasing daylight. “I’m going to bathe and freshen up. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Ophelia nodded, and turned to the wardrobe to prepare my clothing.
I returned from the bath with a towel wrapped around my chest and hair. Ophelia moved out of the way, exposing a mannequin holding a dress.
No, a vestment.
It was a gown of heavy, pale silk—the colour of a morning frost, shifting between silver and a breathless blue. It caught the light like the surface of a frozen lake, shimmering with every small movement.
The bodice was high-necked and modest, fitted perfectly to my frame before cascading down into a skirt that pooled like liquid ice around my feet. But the stunning part was the embroidery climbing up the hem and sleeves.
It was silver threads depicting stalks of wheat and barley, heavy and bowed under the weight of winter.
Wheat didn't just mean life. It meant the Harvest. It meant the scythe. The silver pearls sewn into the grain looked like ice to the world, but they felt like cold, frozen tears to me.
It was a dress for a woman who presided over things that had ended.
"It is... breathable," Ophelia noted, smoothing the shoulders. "And the pearls are real freshwater, imported from the coast. It captures the light, does it not?"
I slowly approached the mannequin, my hand rising towards the blue silk. The silver threads beckoned like the first harvest of a season, wanting to be touched; to be plucked.
Ophelia slapped my hand.
“OW!” I yelped, snatching my fingers back and cradling them against my chest. The trance shattered instantly, replaced by the stinging heat on my knuckles.
“You are still dripping. Dry yourself off properly, put on your undergarments, and then I will dress you, Lady Hart.”
I scowled at her, but undid the towel on my hair to wipe my skin dry. I then glanced at the undergarments that Ophelia had picked for me and balked.
“Ophelia, what are those?” I slowly said, pointing a trembling finger at the garments.
“Your stays, Lady Hart,” she replied, holding up the rigid bodice. It was a conical shape, becoming straight around my waist, and stiffened with what looked like actual bone.
“And this?” I picked up the pile of sheer white fabric next to it.
“Your shift. Silk, naturally. You wear it beneath the stays to protect your skin.”
I looked at the stays, then at the shift. "So let me get this straight. You want me to put on a slippery silk sack, and then you want to strap me into a whalebone cage that prevents me from bending my spine?"
"Precisely. It creates the silhouette of a proper lady."
"It creates the silhouette of a scarecrow that’s been starched," I muttered, but I grabbed the silk shift anyway. I undid my towel and let the shift cover my skin. It was smooth and soft, rubbing against my body like a pillowcase. I then looked at the stays again.
“Why this instead of a corset?”
Ophelia scoffed. “I am trying to make you look like a [Priestess] or [Princess], Lady Hart. Not like a brothel [Whore]. This will prevent you from slouching, and will give the regal look the capital – and the Winter Court – loves.”
“It looks like armor. I can see the boning!”
“That is the point. It will give you accented lines. And,” she gave a playful smile. “It will give your [Inquisitor] a tasteful eyeful.”
Heat flooded my neck, rising faster than I could stop it. A quick glance at the mirror confirmed the damage: my cheeks were burning a crimson so deep they made my red hair look pale.
Ophelia approached and kissed my cheek, and her hand rubbed my spine. “Deep breath, Lady Hart. This will be unpleasant for your first time, but you will want to be able to breathe. If I tighten it without air in your body, you will faint.”
I sucked in air, and Ophelia got to work. Her fingers threaded the lacing in the back through the holes, looping them together over and over until I felt my body just compress.
“Ophelia… I think you shifted… my liver,” I wheezed out, trying to deflate and cause her to tighten it even more.
“Nonsense, my dear. They are just being pushed where they should be,” she hummed, her fingers continuing to work. “ You are simply not used to looking like a noble.”
She finished by tying the lace in a tight knot, and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Finally, the silks. I will not be able to dress you when you go to Flowers-By-The-River, Lady Hart. Remember, the order - Shifts, Stays, Silks. Do not embarrass The Hart Stop,” she paused, and turned me around. Her blue eyes drilled into mine. “Do not embarrass us. Your employees, Oakheart, or me.”
I quickly broke eye contact. “I wo…” Her hand reached up to stroke my cheek, before making me look at her again. “I’ll try, Ophelia.”
“I know you will not.” She leaned in again and gave a soft kiss to my cheek. She moved back and took the silks off the mannequin. “Step into the centre. A servant will dress you in the morning if I am busy. I will make every effort not to be, if you will allow me.”
I stepped into the hole and Ophelia lifted the dress upwards. The bodice slid around the stays, as Ophelia made sure it fit. The final fasteners were in place, stockings adorned, and garters attached. She stepped back to look at me.
“Not as fast if the system dressed you, but you look like a priestess. Not a peasant running around for sweets on Harvester’s Hallow.”
I stepped forward, and Ophelia immediately raised her hand. “One last thing, Lady Ha– Priestess. Well two.” She beckoned downwards…
Rhyvesta, No!
Two ice-blue heels that looked like glass – like ice. My blue stockings easily slid into the heels, and as soon as I stepped forward, Ophelia caught me.
Obviously, I tripped.
She offered me her arm, as she put on the jewelry. Pearls and silver. It reminded me of what Ma used to say about it - pearls were nothing before swine.
I think she said it wrong, since it was a way to get Pa to at least purchase a pig for meat. We never did, since the pig would eat corn.
I hated corn.
“Ophelia, do I not get an emerald?”
“Green is not compatible with bl–” she paused. “Ashley, you and Adrian are not compatible. Look at yourself. Look at him. You belong in different worlds. If you wish, I can see if he would be interested in a secret tryst. But I do not believe you wish to be that type of Mistress, do you, mistress? He, also, does not strike me as that kind of man.”
I couldn’t even make myself angry. I just looked down. “No, it’s alright. Can we eat?”
“Your stomach will not expand. You will get used to eating small bites, and eating a full dinner after. The last thing a lady would need is to show she is gaining weight,” the pivot in the way she spoke was so smooth and unnatural. “Shall we go to town? The faster you accomplish this, the faster you can wear something comfortable."
“The faster I finish, the faster I can begin to pack.”
Ophelia stopped in place. “Then let us not be too hasty.” She offered me her arm, and guided me to town.
“Holy Elora Above. Uh… You look so beautiful, Ash—” Jasmine was being unusual. I could actually understand her without focusing, and she talked so slowly. But there was this sound of reverie and… difference between us.
Given, we were never friends before, and I had only really become friends with her a few weeks ago… but we grew up together!
I’m not unaware of our growing differences. But she’s good with numbers and the only one I can trust with my finances and secrets. Even now I’m not that much different than her.
No, the word I’m thinking of is reliant. Not everything is a transactional exchange. She knows I depend on her.
She’s just treating me differently for one reason.
“Lady Hart,” she finished. Her and Annabelle immediately curtsied, pulling on their skirts. There was no sound of playfulness in her voice. Just this sincerity.
I looked away, out of place and wrong.
“One of them…”
“One of them…”
That mother’s voice rang in my skull, and my vision flashed.
In one blink, I was wearing spidersilk gloves with dripping blood. A scythe hung loosely off my hands. The air smelled like salt and water, mixed with tears and poverty. The flames of the burning boat mixed in with preserved fish and the scent of chamomile tea. My ears rang with screams.
In another, I was here and right now. I could see my gloves and I could feel my fingers. Ophelia still smelled of hyacinths and the air was too familiar. It also wasn’t night, and I was surrounded by my friends.
Friends.
They both straightened up and shyly approached me, inspecting me like I was a doll. Their attention burned something sideways in me, and I began to notice too. People who ignored me on the streets were looking at me.
Not Ophelia, dressed to the nines.
Not Jasmine, who knew everyone.
Me.
I had to get out of here.
Jasmine’s hand hovered near my shoulder for a moment. My body shifted toward her, and I didn’t stop myself. She froze in place, and pulled back.
Damn it.
“L-Let’s just get this over with,” I muttered, releasing Ophelia’s arm. I was getting better at walking in heels, and if I could move at my own pace, this day could end a lot faster.
I tried to move quickly to The Cockatrice, though the opening was slated for 9:00 AM. Amaril’s Gaze was still beginning its ascent over the horizon, meaning it was likely still around 7:00.
Mr. Marlow stopped talking to one of his patrons to look at me, and even Mary and Mark broke their interaction to look at me go by.
A few weeks ago, Mrs. Bellamine made me a fancy dress and no one looked at me. I wanted them to.
Now that they are, I wanted them to stop. To be that nobody, to be that [Farm Girl], to just be Ashley – Not Lady Hart.
There was conversation, whispering, but all I could hear – all I wanted to hear – was the click-clack of my heels striking cobblestone. Then I could hide away, get this job done, and go home. I kept my eyes to the ground. Ophelia walked behind me, and Jasmine and Annabelle behind her.
I was being followed.
Me.
“Mornin’, Ashy,” an irritating voice said, breaking through my concentration with ease. His voice always did.
I stopped moving to look around; we were close to The Cockatrice – I could see it barely a block away at the edge of town – and there was a small crowd already forming. Noel, Aywin, the pretty boy Adrian knew, and that massive man who lifted Jasmine up. They talked amongst each other, and the other villagers.
But to my left was Adrian, leaning against a wall. My eyes locked with his, and he immediately lowered his scarf from his face and removed his tricorn hat.
“Look at ya, sis. Lookin’ like the prized princess. Can ya even breathe in that thing?” he teased, and already I was getting annoyed.
I opened my mouth, ready to get into a fight already, but Ophelia stepped up. “Lord-Inquisitor, you of all people should know it is Lady Hart or Priestess.”
Adrian’s eye shifted off of me, and towards my entourage. His smile turned into a neutral expression, and his brown eyes scanned Ophelia. He looked at her black hair, her blue eyes, and then stopped against her neckline. His eyes narrowed, and I stopped looking at him to look at Ophelia.
My phylactery. His emerald, held by a diamond chain.
His eyes moved past it, and continued to scan downwards. After he took his measure, it returned to her eyes.
“I apologize,” he paused, and his body shifted performatively. He leaned forward as if he was being commanded to bow to a fairy lord, and overperformed the hand motions in the bow. “Lady Hawthorne, I, Lord-Inquisitior, [Paladin] of Amaril, Keeper of this thing and that, am so humbled to be your in presence. You make the winters seem a bit less snowy, and Amaril's Gaze to glow more radiantly, and the carrots to taste more carrot-y,” He pulled himself up. “Am I doin’ it right, Ashy?”
“Not to me, you ingrate. To your priestess!” Ophelia growled. Jasmine and Annabelle stepped back, and I clenched my hands into my gloves. I don’t know who I’d have to call off.
Adrian, of course, didn’t seem to care. He regarded Ophelia with the same amusement he showed me, and then straightened up. He dropped that [Farm Boy] fluster, and moved into the [Paladin] tone. “Fine, fine, Lady Hawthorne. You can play pomp and mirrors all you want and look like a Capital Woman if you desire. I’ll play along with you. Just assumed any friend of Ashy – “ Ophelia’s eyes narrowed, and Adrian locked eyes with her. They both said nothing for an awkward moment.
He continued. “Any friend of Ashy would know this is a dumb act she’s puttin’ on. Right, ‘Lady’ Carnwich, and… Annabelle? You’re joining her crew?”
“Amaril darn it, Addy. We’re workin’ now! You can’t just be ignorin’ Ashy’s priesty-ness!” Jasmine chided, but that voice of fun was back! He was dressed as well as I was in his uniform, and Jasmine just seemed to see him as Addy.
He chuckled, and waved her off, before breaking the posturing easily, and even placing a hand on Ophelia to walk by her. She immediately, violently, pulled away but Adrian didn’t stop to even acknowledge it. He instead offered Annabelle his hand.
“Good to see you as well, ‘Lady’ Baker,” he said, but his tone was light. Annabelle awkwardly looked up at him, before raising her hand to slowly meet his.
“L-Lord Skye! S-sorry, I didn–”
“It’s Adrian, Anna. Known me since we were kids, cuz. Can drop the formality thing when I ain’ workin’. I mean, I’m going to be providing security for Ashy’s weird bathhouse and makin’ sure it’s clear that there's no whorin’ going on in there, but right now? Off the clock.”
“Lord-Inquisitor, you are always on the clock,” Ophelia said again. Her voice was cold and dry.
Adrian ignored her.
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“A-Alright, Addy..? Yeah, Ash–,” she paused. “Lady Har–”
“You got it right the first time. Knowin’ Princess Carrot over there, she’s ruminating on how weird she feels bein’ important now. She’d much prefer you call her Ashley or somethin’. Or, do what I do and call her carrothead.”
Annabelle and Jasmine shot their hands to their face to cover their mouths, but Annabelle was far worse at it. Her body heaved with laughter, and my body stiffened while fire burned in my gut.
“I ain’ no BLOODY CARROT YOU UNDERSIZED HOG. I BETCHA SLOP IS THE ONLY THING THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR DAMN MAW.” My words shot out before I could even think it through, and I did not disagree!
That broke the seal, as all three of them broke into laughter. Ophelia was the only one not amused. Her face was actively showing hatred. Adrian saw, and again, ignored her.
I stomped towards him, almost stumbling on the heels I was concentrating on, and Adrian stepped out of the way. My hands flailed trying to grasp something, but Jasmine and Annabelle looked at Adrian and Ophelia was also glaring daggers at him, so none of them moved forward. I teetered…
…and found my balance, stumbling a few steps forward and then standing right in front of his stupid face.
“HOW MANY TIMES DOES I GOTTA TELL YA THAT I DON’ LIKE BEIN’ CALLED A BLOODY CARROT. ELORA ABOVE YOUSE GONNA BE HOSED DOWN BY MELLY AND I WONT EVEN STITCH YOUR STUPID FACE.”
He stuck his tongue out at me. “Two things, Ashy - don’ need it. I can fix myself up just fine, carrothead. Second, Melly ain’ gonna hose me down. She don’ even know how to use a hose!”
“It’s an expression, you pig!”
“You’re an expression!”
“THAT… Doesn’t even make sense!”
“Like a [Farm Girl] wearin’ stays and silk when she don’ even got anything to show off?”
Jasmine gasped, but Annabelle broke into laughter. I stared at them both for a moment.
Then it hit me. My face flooded with anger, and I glanced down. Before I could inspect myself, his finger touched my forehead and pushed my head back up.
“Only jossin’, ‘Priestess’. Lightin’ up. Never seen such a gloomy girl about to open her own business. You’re still Ashy to me. Just gotta remind your ‘entourage’ that. Right, Jazzy?”
“Amaril, Adrian. I kind of forgot our [Farm Girl] was still so…”
“...Ashley-Like?” Annabelle joined in.
I was absolutely frustrated, but the way everyone was talking and looking at me felt… better. Adrian smiled at me, and stepped back. “Been in your shoes plenty a-times, Ashy. If you want some advice navigatin' it, lemme know.”
Ophelia finally stepped in. “Lady Hart, Ms. Carnwich, Ms. Baker. We’ve work that must be done. And while this… distraction… is amusing, it’s ultimately a waste of time.”
Adrian turned to look at Ophelia, giving her a playful grin too. “Look at ya, Lady Hawthorne! Usin’ contractions now? Must have gotten you bothered as well. Wanna stop being… whatever this is and just join in?”
Ophelia closed her eyes and inhaled. She kept her breath in for a moment, and then slowly exhaled.
“Lord-Inquisitor, your sudden appearance, while legal, does not follow any protocol of how the nobility is to behave. You are not supposed to look like a fool and embarrass the commission and rank that was entrusted upon you by treating your status like a joke - or an on or off switch. You represent the crown, and a manner of being. People expect things out of you, and I am sorry your mentor never taught you about decorum.”
Adrian glanced at Jasmine, Annabelle, and I, and then pulled up his scarf. Just like that, he looked different, and his boyish brown eyes just looked… detached and rather bored.
“I understand decorum well, Ophelia.”
Even I covered my mouth, and slowly stepped back. Jasmine caught me as I started to stumble, and Annabelle held the other side. “Sorry, Jazzy, hard to walk in these.”
“Tell me about it…” she slowly said, but didn’t stop the soft backpedalling.
Ophelia’s anger seemed to morph. Not active hate, but… her face was calm. She radiated this heat. It was almost as bad as when I asked her about chronomancy.
“It is Lady Hawthorne to you, young blood. You may be nouveau-riche like the rest of your kind, but you’ve no heritage or claims to back your own.”
“I’ve a commission scroll that grants me the title. Want to see it and confirm, Ophelia?”
“Rhyvesta take you. You know what I intended.”
Rhyvesta’s name wasn’t unknown, but calling upon it was a heavy curse. This was going from playful to actually hostile. I stepped forward, “Op– Lady Hawthorne, Lord Skye, maybe we should separate?”
They both ignored me.
Adrian crossed his arms. “Calling upon The Enemy to curse a [Paladin]? Like Father, like Daughter. I can’t prove you’re a vampire – Torment, you’re standing in Amaril’s Gaze right now, but you seem exactly like him.”
“You will not drag my family’s lineage through the mud. And, for future meetings, you will not touch me again unless you wish for your arm to break in half. Do I make myself clear?”
“Exactly like him. Second Hawthorne who’s threatened me. How did that turn out again?”
Ophelia towered over him, and Adrian’s diminutive stature almost made it seem like a matron disciplining a disobedient schoolboy. Physically, at least.
Everywhere else? It felt like two dogs fighting - Ophelia, a brilliant doberman protecting her house, and Adrian, a golden retriever that decided it’s time to stop playing and take his job seriously. I just hoped their growling didn’t turn into baring of teeth and actual blood.
“Are you implying something, Lord-Inquisitor?”
“I don’t know, am I? How is House Hawthorne after it got burned down?”
She grit her teeth. “Being rebuilt with pure money... You are more than welcome to come inspect – provided you have the proper warrants and notice.”
“I thought we were playing by court protocols? You know as well as I that I don’t need one for the daughter of a criminal. You might not be a vampire, but you’re not pure in the eyes of the law. Make sure to leave five plates for a visit then, and I hope that I’ll see something pleasant like that around the neck of your servants, and not the collars I saw last time.” He motioned at the emerald necklace on her neck.
I finally stepped up. “ENOUGH! Adrian, apologize. Ophelia, back off. Amaril above, I get it. I’m a priestess now and a girl from Oakheart. And Adrian, you will get a warrant if you are investigating my friend.”
That broke the tension, and they stopped glaring at each other. Ophelia looked to the side, and Adrian looked at me. “She’s your friend now, Lady Hart?” His voice was cold… in the same way it was when he was working.
I refused to play along.
“YES SHE IS, ADDY. I’m sorry about whatever happened between Elias and you, but Ophelia is the only reason I can keep this without falling apart!” I grabbed her arm, knocking her off balance and pulling her into me.
“I don’ know the first thing about this courtly stuff, and I know she’s a bit too formal, but I need it. Imagine if it was jus’ me goin’ up there to talk and havin’ to word about all that. She’s serious, but she ain’ a bad person, Addy. She ain’ ‘Lady Hart’s’ Friend. She’s Ashley’s friend so I can be the Lady Hart that helps Oakheart.”
“She ain’ lying, Addy,” Jasmine said, stepping up with Annabelle. “One word from you and Carrothead goes off her handle. But she’s a priestess now, and while I know Ashy is fun to be around… Ophelia manages that public face. She ain’ our enemy, she’s just… proper. Oakheart’s changin’. We have an Adventurer’s Guild now!”
Adrian looked between the three of us, then at Annabelle. She looked away, not wanting to be included in this fight.
I couldn’t see his face shift underneath his scarf but I could see his eyes move around as he considered.
“I apologize,” he began, and did a proper bow towards Ophelia. His upper body sunk low, going orthogonal to us four. “Lady Hawthorne. There are merits in the rules and structure. I hope that this faux-pas will not be a sour point between you and Lady Hart. And, if I were to investigate Hawthorne Manor, I will treat you like a citizen and acquire a warrant first, for the sake of our mutual acquaintance.”
He rose, and stared into her blue eyes. “Do not give me a reason to acquire one. I hope I make myself clear?”
Ophelia’s eyes regarded him like the drunk from yesterday. Perhaps even worse. “I will not, Lord Inquisitor. I will not pretend to play noble with you. Let us hope our paths do not converge more than they must, until our mutual friend agrees she has outgrown one of us.”
Adrian said nothing, but turned away. He raised his hand in exit. “Ashy, Jazzy, Anna. See you around.” He walked off to Noel, Aywin, and his knights.
The four of us said nothing. Even Jasmine’s cheer disappeared, and Ophelia’s wit was gone. I guess I was back in charge.
“Let’s go get some tea, ladies. I need something to drink now. I can drink tea in this, right, Ophelia?”
“You may, Lady Hart.”
Oakheart was getting bigger. We didn’t have to walk too far to find a smaller establishment that made snacks, fritters, and served by a small cart instead of an indoor restaurant. I expected Jasmine to go forward and order, but the new social status had rules.
I had to awkwardly go up and get everything now, and while I figure I could have asked Ophelia to do it, she was still fuming. I ordered a childhood drink I enjoyed – Wheat Tea.
Wheat had so many uses. It could be used for tea, fed to animals, and it wasn’t corn. I needed sugar in mine, so I brought the small pot with us to our wooden table. It was also the moment I found out I couldn’t bend, which made Jasmine jolt up and take the tray from me and set it down herself.
“Honestly, Ash… Lady Hart,” she said, but I learned the lesson from Adrian.
“I don’ have a scarf to pull down or up, Jazzy, but we’re not… on the clock. Ashy is fine.” She moved to glance at Ophelia and I grabbed her shoulder. I shook my head. She hesitated for a moment, and then nodded.
I didn’t need Ophelia’s permission for things like this when I wasn’t protecting the brand. This was Jasmine. This was Annabelle.
This was me.
“Honestly, Ashy, if you’re havin’ trouble, jus’ ask. Amaril knows no Lady can bend in that. Ophelia – “ she paused, turning to look at Ophelia for permission. Ophelia regarded Jasmine and Annabelle, and then raised her teacup to her lips to drink.
Jasmine nodded and continued. “Ophelia couldn't bend when she had to be dressed for the formal parties, and needed a few of us to carry her things and feed her. An’ the other girls I worked for when I was still a [Servant] and not a [Maid] had the same requirements. Only difference between you, and Orphy, I guess, is we’re friends when we ain’ working.”
I sighed, and tried to lean down on the table. The stays wouldn’t let me, and I found myself in perfect posture like Ophelia, who wasn’t wearing one. Jasmine and Annabelle were slouched.
Ophelia turned towards Annabelle. “Ms. Baker?”
“L-Lady H-Haw–” she immediately responded.
“Did you not hear Ms. Carnwich? Ophelia is fine now, dear. I know you are not as formal as I am, there is no need to hold to protocol when… ‘one is off the clock’.”
“Yes, Ophelia!” she said again, though even then, it reeked of deference.
Ophelia lowered her teacup, and opened her book. “You mentioned that Lady Hart had allowed you to learn about The Ledger, since you wished to move beyond a [Nurse] into being a [Doctor], or if you are capable, a [Chirurgeon]?”
Annabelle gulped, but said nothing. In fact, no one said anything. It took me a moment to realize they were all looking at me.
“What?” I finally asked.
“...Is this true, Lady Hart?” Ophelia finished.
“Oh, yeah? I don’t know how to explain it well. You do it.”
Jasmine didn’t speak up. She silently looked down to her cup of tea and pastries I bought for them and nibbled.
“Ultimately, Ms. Baker, the ledger is a way of accounting. ‘What is given, must be taken from elsewhere. What is taken, must be given elsewhere’. You understand the fundamental rule of magic, yes?”
“...No, Ma’a– Ophelia, Ashley. I… can do simple spells for work, but I don't know advanced ones.”
“Divine creates, Arcane Manipulates!” I blurted out the axion impulsively.
Ophelia nodded. “Which is to say that a [Doctor] is not too magical. It does use magic, but ultimately, you are not creating anything. You are only able to do things through manipulation – what you do must be balanced. A [Cryotheurge], ignoring the ‘divine part’ of the name, freezes air to make cold. A [Cleric] of Nyla, creates cold.”
“I don’ see the difference?” Annabelle said.
“You’ll be spendin’ most of your time reading, learning, and trying to understand things to make it work. I can’t just ‘cure’ dragonpox. I can just remove dragonpox from the blood and return purified blood. Or, I can find herbs that do it for me. Addy can just touch someone and kill it.”
“Uuuh?” Annabelle murmured.
“It’s work, is what I’m sayin’. A lot of it. I have to know what I’m doin’. Like you. You’re gonna have to know what you’re doin’. You can’ just pray to Nyla and ask her to heal this person. You gotta know what to do.”
Jasmine munched on her pastry, and opened her mouth with bread still in it. I recoiled instinctively! “Yaaash. Jush –”
Ophelia rubbed her temple. “Ms. Carnwich, please swallow your food first.”
Jasmine angrily pouted, chewed, and struggled to swallow. She took a big gulp of her tea. “Yeah! Just gotta know what you’re doin’. Like, even as a [Waitress], you just get magical ways of writing things down on paper for a cook to make with ingredients. You don’... just make the food when they ask outta nothin’. One thing I did wanna ask you, Ashley, was… why can’t everyone be a [Wizard] if everyone can do small magic? Just need an education?”
I shrugged. I didn’t really know. This was a conversation for Madeleine. I looked at Ophelia, and she too shrugged. “I’ll.. try to find out for you, Jazzy.”
Annabelle just bit her lip. “So, I can’t just instantly cure people? I figured. But if that’s all the ledger is, why did Ophelia need to –”
“That’s not what The Ledger is, Anna,” Jasmine quickly, firmly said. “That’s just the part you need to know for now. I imagine if you want to be as good as Ashy is in the field, you’ll have to learn it all. Which is why Ophelia is teachin’ it to you, and not Ashy.”
“Why not?”
“You’ve heard me talk before right?” I asked her.
“Oh. Right.” Annabelle quickly agreed. I was almost insulted.
“Ultimately, Ms. Baker – if you take the path Ashley is walking, you will have to be educated. You will need to learn how the body works. What herbs counteract what. But to be as great of a [Doctor] – no, a [Chirurgeon] – as Ashley is, you’ll need to do more.” Ophelia finished.
I looked down. “As a [Chirurgeon], your greatest asset will be your knowledge. But it requires more than just that.”
“Something more, Ash?” Annabelle poked.
I nodded, and Ophelia looked down. Jasmine immediately shot up and stared at me. “Ashy, you aren’t implying what I think you are, are you…?”
“That I would be open to training her fully? I am, if she wants to learn, and takes the oath. And of course, if Dr. Anise allows it.”
“The [L—],” the word caught on her tongue, and Jasmine pivoted quickly. “Lame [Doctor] you keep talking about?” she quickly turned to Annabelle, and exhaled. “Anna, don’t learn it all the way. Just do enough to be a [Nurse] or [Doctor]. What Ashley does is dangerous, and you should leave it to her.”
Annabelle nodded eagerly. Jasmine was right in my eyes. Annabelle didn’t have to be an [Acolyte]. A [Doctor] was good.
Ophelia spoke up softly. “A [Doctor] is not a hero class. It is professional, for sure, and requires education. A [Chirurgeon] however, is a hero class and requires so much more. If you want to be as needed as Lady Hart is, Ms. Baker, you will need to take that plunge. If I see you as a valid candidate, and Dr. Anise agrees, you will be brought into the cult.”
“The cult, Lady Hawthorne?!” Annabelle leaned in conspiratorially, speaking in a quick, hushed hiss.
Ophelia gave a genteel chuckle. “Playful teasing on the Levanite Order Lady Hart is founding. With only one member, herself, it is a cult, and not a guild. Precision of words.”
Ophelia was just too calculated in the way she spoke. Everyone, but Annabelle, knew she didn’t mean that. I hoped Annabelle didn’t know.
Ophelia glanced to the side. “8:30, Ladies. Lady Hart, be ready.”
I wasn’t expecting so many people to be looking at me. I mean, I wasn’t expecting this many people for a bath house, but the entire town was here! Unlike in my dreams and my preparation, this was a complete reversal!
I was used to many featureless faces. There were many faces, but they all had features! Different colors of eyes, different hairs, different heights – wait, were the teenagers taller than Addy? That was good for our next fight – and… mostly peasants clothes.
And they were all looking at me.
My breathing quickly became short, and everything zoomed in and out.
Five things I could see.
The crowd was the object freaking me out. Not them.
Noel and Aywin stood together, their eyes warm and a soft smile. I locked eyes with Noel, who nodded his head at me.
Jasmine, Ophelia, and Anabelle were nearby, and when I looked at them, there was just reverie. Jasmine broke it to smile and wave!
Adrian was with Melissa, and his knights were close by.
There were so many faces. My vision narrowed, and my breathing was picking up.
Adrian lowered his mask and started moving his hands. His lips pursed and he deeply inhaled, his arms raising with the motion. His eyes locked with mine.
I stared at him, eyes opening up wide. I couldn’t even summon my annoyance.
Adrian released the breath, and instead whispered in the wind. He blew on it, and a moment later…
“Ashy, breathe in and hold it. Count to four, then exhale over four seconds. Military tactic.”
I glared at him. That was [Message]! I could do that too thanks to Dalliance, but there was too many people staring at me.
I closed my eyes and inhaled through my nose.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
I opened my eyes and exhaled.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
I Saw: The Crowd; Ophelia, Jasmine, and Annabelle; Noel and Aywin; Melissa and Adrian; and Oakheart.
I Felt: The shifts rubbing against my skin; Amaril’s Gaze’s Glare warming my skin; The warm spring wind; and the smoothness of my silks.
I Heard: The whispers of the crowd; the clicking of my heels; and the beating of my heart.
I smelled: Fresh, Country Air; and the fresh water from behind.
I couldn’t taste nothin’ though. I’d have to start buying Marzipan, that was delicious.
I smiled, and turned to the crowd. Adrian saw the change in me, and smiled, pulling up his scarf again.
I looked down at my notes. I would need them, I wasn’t no socialite that suddenly gained confidence. Words were not easy. I couldn’t do that book thing of a princess scrunching up her notes and throwing them away.
That wasn’t me.
“Good Morning. My name is… Ashley Hart. I know you already know me. Pa was Matthew Hart, a [Farmer], and Ma was Amelia Hart, a [House Wife]. They were both more than that. Ma’s way of thinking gave me the brain, and Pa gave me the determination. I… passed my studies, and when given the choice, I was allowed by the world to become a master of ice. Of Healing. Of… Nyla, the Great Deluge.”
I stopped talking. All eyes were on me. My eyes were on my notes. My eyes were on them. Her blue eyes, his brown eyes. Noel’s tired face.
I smiled.
“Nyla gave me a way to heal. I can’t heal magically, you know. Just… with my brain. And now that I’m back, I wanted to help… others. There’s no cleaning. No Medical care. Um… I just want to fix that. I know you’re expecting great things from me, since I’m the town's first [Doctor] – the town’s first [Chirurgeon], and I am happy to help. I… didn’t get here by myself.”
The next passage was just me saying gratitude. Would they hate it?
Who cared. These were my words. My preparation. My sincerity. The only way I knew how to say thank you, and show what I wanted to be.
“I wasn’t the easiest girl to get along with in the past. I was prickly. Thank you for letting me rejoin. Thank you, all of you. For seeing a bit more than a [Farm Girl], to let me get here. And It’s my time to give back.”
I took another breath.
“I won’t be here for the opening, but when I return, my clinic will be available. I’ll make sure the rates are reasonable, I’ll be providing cheap soap and medical supplies, and the waters will be clean. If any of you want a medical education, I will do my best to make you capable, and hope you can do more.”
Then, this part. To mix Nyla, with Rhyvesta. My hands twitched, scared that The Abyssal Dagger would appear.
It would not.
“The Great Deluge cares for all of us. In her mercy, she brings us safety and concern. She feeds us, she cares for us, and she gives us the tools to heal ourselves. She only asks we give back. What we put into the ocean is what we get back. Nothing more, and nothing less. It is a system in balance, one that I will maintain. For as The Leviathan states in the book of Hexadecimal - ‘All things were made from the primordial ooze. The fish that you eat, and the worms you become for the ocean.’ We are made from transactions; we are who we are because of things we have done, and what we do for others.”
I just stared at Adrian’s eyes.
“Thank you all for seeing me. Now, that I am no longer just the poor girl all of you probably didn’t look down on, I want… to be able to feed you all, as you’ve fed me. Thank you for having me.”
Now the most important part. I tightly held the paper, impetus rising within me. I stared at the words, the most important part of the speech now that the town was all here.
“ALSO, I PLAN TO KEEP FARMING. DO NOT BUY MY CARROTS IF YOU WANT TO REPAY ME. I WILL MAKE SURE THE RAT—”
A gloved hand pushed my shoulder, and I could hear laughter. I turned to look at Adrian who easily pushed me away.
He began to clap on the podium, and the town slowly joined in. I turned to him and whispered, “I’m not done!”
He shook his head. His hand raised to wave me off.
“That is our priestess, folks. She gave you the carrot, and sadly, I have to give you the stick. This is a bath house, and a clinic. I know what that implies – and if any of you start turning this place improper, I will fine you, or haul your sinning ass to jail. Do I make myself clear?”
No one said anything.
“Good. Now, I’ve about 100 gold here, and Ms. Carnwich informed me the place is ready. Priestess Hart’s soap isn’t made yet, but I’ve acquired a few. I know Ashley here, bless her heart and spark, would offer it to you for free –”
I narrowed my eyes. That would ruin the point of the passage, you idiot.
“ – but it isn’t fair to her, or the lovely ladies that made this place happen. Enjoy your first bath. This is Ashley’s money, by the way,” he said, pulling out a bag and placing the coins atop my hands.
Adrian turned to me and leaned in. My body leaned in and embraced him. Priestess and Knight. That was definitely something I read in the library!
Right. I wasn’t a priestess of Nyla. I ignored that and pulled him deeper. I was leaving soon, but right now, everything was perfect.
Thank you so much for reading this far!

