Chapter 26: Two Silvers’ Worth of Loyalty

Day of the Holy Eve Festival, Hour of the Seventh Bell (7:00 a.m.)

Rewinding the clock a little...

“Good morning, milady Bel.”

“Ah, Miss Lynsha. Good morning.”

On the morning of the Holy Eve Festival, Bel was visibly brimming with excitement.

Can’t blame her, really. Every kid looks forward to the Holy Eve Festival, thought Lynsha as she regarded the excited child fondly.

She didn’t have any younger sisters, but if she had, this would probably be what it felt like.

I do wonder though. What exactly is her relation to Mia?

According to Mia, they were half sisters...but Lynsha wasn’t convinced.

They do look pretty alike though. Maybe a distant relative with a bit of a complicated story?

The thing Lynsha particularly appreciated about the girl was how low maintenance she was. In general, noble children were a handful to take care of, requiring their attendants to tend to everything from changes of clothes to preparing baths. Bel, meanwhile, did everything herself.

And it’s not like she’s a bad girl or anything, though I wish she’d shake that habit of handing out money to everyone who’s ever helped her...

That kind of behavior rubbed her the wrong way. Expressing thanks through the hard, pragmatic utility of cold cash felt too much like settling debts or squaring accounts, as if whatever goodwill the other party had bestowed upon you was, with this gift of money, done and cleared. Relationships were developed through a continuous exchange of kindness and favors. If someone treated you well, you should just treat them well in return. Repay kindness in kind. Love with love. Whether between friends, parents, or colleagues, that was how Lynsha believed it should always be.

What would happen when money was thrown into the mix? If kindness was repaid with cash? It would signal the end of the relationship by forcing upon it a transactional nature. Transactions, after all, ended. All that would remain was one party who’d offered money, and another who’d taken it in exchange for something they deemed of equal value. She just couldn’t see how that kind of interaction could lead to lasting bonds.

What bothered her even more, however, was...

It almost feels like there’s some sort of underlying fear...as if she thinks she won’t always be here, so she’s constantly preparing for that contingency by repaying every kindness as soon as possible so she can disappear at any time without anyone losing out. And she treats every relationship that way...

It was, perhaps, a legitimate life philosophy. Stoic, certainly, and maybe even admirable in some ways. No one could know for certain if a person they met today would still be there tomorrow, so always thanking them at the first opportunity was...arguably a commendable way to live.

The thing is, in her case, it feels more like giving up. Like she’s accepted that she could die at any time, and she’s organizing her whole life around that.

There was a sense of fatalistic resignation to it all, and Lynsha didn’t like it. Children, in her opinion, should be doe-eyed believers in the possibilities of tomorrow. If not everywhere, then at least here, on Saint-Noel Island. And yet...

That’s fine though. If she tries to hand me money when it’s time for us to say goodbye, I’m stuffing it right back in her pocket. And then I’m going to give her a stern lecture about how you should say thanks with your mouth and not your wallet. As a final lesson, that ought to leave an impression.

With that thought in mind, Lynsha huffed out a satisfied breath.

Day of the Holy Eve Festival, Hour of the Eighth Bell (8:00 a.m.)

“Good morning, Bel.”

Citrina appeared behind Bel, who was currently having breakfast in the cafeteria. Lynsha studied the young Yellowmoon’s face and frowned.

Something about her smile is off. It’s always so sweet and charming, but today, it seems a touch stiff...

“Hm? What’s wrong, Rina? You look a little down,” asked Bel, who seemed to have noticed the discrepancy as well.

“Down? No, I’m perfectly fine. More importantly, look, Bel.” Citrina gestured at a small item hanging from her neck. “It’s Holy Eve, so I figured I’d wear it. What do you think?”

Bel beamed at the dangling horse charm she’d made.

“Ah, it’s the troya! Heh heh, I’m so glad you’re wearing it.”

“That’s right, and I’d like to show my appreciation. Do you have time around noon today to go out for a walk with Rina?”

“Go out?”

“Mmhm. Remember the picnic in the forest last time? That was a lot of fun, so I’m thinking it’d be nice if we did it again. It’s not like there’s anything to do until the candlelight mass anyway.”

“I don’t mind going, but isn’t the forest off-limits now?”

“The place where the poisonous mushrooms grow is, but we can still get into the clearing near the entrance. I actually went not too long ago to make sure.”

Citrina smiled the sweetest of smiles.

“It’s such a beautiful clearing, Bel. Don’t you want to go see it? Don’t you want to go right now?”

“Mmm, okay! Let’s go then. Heh heh, this sounds fun.” Bel smiled too.

Lynsha did not. The exchange between the two girls made a slow chill crawl up her spine. In fact, it had been making its way up her back ever since she’d first met Citrina. She recognized the girl’s tone. Rather, she recognized its essence. It was uncannily similar to the seductive tone her provocateur of a brother Lambert used when he was talking someone into something. Driven by a subconscious sense of dread, she spoke up.

“In that case, I’ll accompany you, milady.”

She looked from Citrina to her attendant Barbara, as if trying to deter them through her gaze.

“That would be much appreciated. It just so happens that I will be occupied in the afternoon.”

Barbara made no attempt to object. This lack of concern took Lynsha by surprise.

“I leave milady Citrina in your care then,” the older woman said as she lowered her head in a respectful curtsy.

Day of the Holy Eve Festival, Hour of the First Bell Second Sequence (1:00 p.m.)

After lunch, Lynsha accompanied Bel and Citrina to the forest. Like the latter had said, the woody entrance was unguarded, and the three of them gained easy access to the clearing beyond. She’d been here not long ago, but the season had turned fully to winter in the interim, and the scenery had taken on a frosty quality.

Maybe it’s just because there’s nobody here. The town is bustling with activity thanks to the festival, after all. It’s hard to imagine anyone coming to a place like this today.

“Hmm, it feels a little lonelier here than the last time we visited,” said Citrina after glancing at the surroundings. She sighed. “What a shame. What do you say we go a little deeper into the forest, Bel?”

“Hm? Deeper? But won’t we get in trouble if one of the patrols finds us?”

“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re doing anything bad, right?”

Citrina took Bel’s hand and gave it a pull. Bel hesitated at first but eventually gave in with a smile. Lynsha watched the pair run toward the woods with an air of blithe excitement.

That’s more like it, she thought, letting out a small breath of relief. Children should always have innocent expressions like that.

She called out to the two girls.

“Milady, Miss Citrina, don’t go running off too far now. It’s—”

The world shuddered. A split second later, she felt the pain. Whatever had hit her head, it was heavy, and it robbed her of her strength. Her knees buckled.

“Ah... Ah...”

She didn’t even have time to scream before her vision faded to black.

“Miss Lynsha!”

Bel’s voice came to her as if from a great distance.

“Milady...run...”

Rallying every last fiber of consciousness left to her, she managed but a hoarse whisper. It fell from her mouth and sank to the earth, far too weak to reach Bel.

“I won’t let you kill Miss Lynsha!”

The next voice she heard...was still Bel’s. But it came from right above her, and it rang with a furious intensity, sharper and bolder than anything she’d heard from the girl before.

A second voice followed. It was the dismissive laugh of an old woman.

“Ba ha ha, you won’t let me? Who do you think you are? A princess? Do you think you can simply order me to stop?” The old woman let out a muted chortle. “Silliness. Such silliness. What do we have to gain from not killing her, hm?”

There was a constricting, viscous quality to the voice. Like tendrils of tar, it coiled itself around the listener. Bel’s, in comparison, was clear as crystal.

“...If you don’t kill Miss Lynsha, then I’ll go with you without making a scene. Your goal isn’t to kill me here, right? You want to use me as a hostage to get to Miss Mia.”

“...Oh? You’re smarter than I thought, little Miss Bel.”

“If you kill Miss Lynsha right now, I’m going to fight you with everything I’ve got. What are you going to do then? You can knock me out, but I think that would cause other problems for you...”

The old woman’s voice cackled.

“Very smart indeed. Obnoxiously so, in fact. You surprise me. The plan was originally to drug you...but it’s true that having your cooperation would make it much easier to get out of here.” After a brief silence, she continued, only to use her words as a whip to lash Bel’s conscience. “Very well. This girl shall live. For now, anyway. Given that wound, she can neither move nor call for help. She will likely die anyway. The more she struggles, the more she suffers. A quick death right now might in fact be a mercy, but, well, as you wish... A pity though. Such a pity. Had she not involved herself with you, she would never have gotten into such a pickle.”

An agreement had been reached, and Lynsha heard what sounded like Bel crouching down beside her.

“...Thank you for everything, Miss Lynsha.”

There was the light rustling of fabric, followed by the sensation of something being stuffed down her collar. It was cold. Metallic. And she knew at once what it was.

Two silver coins.

“This is...the most thanks that I can give right now. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry this happened. That it had to end like this. I truly hope you’ll be okay.”

There was a light pattering of footsteps that got farther and farther away.

Then, the last vestiges of her consciousness left her as well.

“Stupid girl...and her stupid coins... Freaking hell...”

Lynsha woke to the sound of her own swearing. She had no idea how long she’d been out. An attempt to open her eyes ended in failure. And pain. They were glued shut by the trails of crusted blood that had run down her forehead. The pain kept coming. Her head throbbed, causing her to grit her teeth.

She forced herself up to her knees, only to feel an abrupt floating sensation before collapsing back down onto her side. She tried again, only to hit the ground even harder. A third attempt took her to her feet, but three steps later she stumbled, falling hard. Lying there disoriented and with yet more bruises, it occurred to her that trying to move was really only making things worse.

She might be better off waiting for someone to find her. There were patrols posted to guard the poisonous mushrooms. When they changed shifts, there was a good chance someone would see her.

But that wasn’t fast enough.

So she advanced. On and on she went, dragging her body along the ground. She partly climbed, mostly crawled up the thick, protruding root of a tree. Resting breathlessly atop it, she felt rage bubble in her chest.

“Give...thanks? To hell...with your thanks. If you want to...thank me...then do it...properly. I don’t want...your silver. I didn’t...take this job...for your damn coins...”

The rage thrashed against her sternum, pushing her forward. Her consciousness ebbed and flowed. She growled, and it stilled itself as if in fear. Anger alone kept her going, so she fed it. Fury flared. At Bel, yes...but more than anything, at herself for failing to protect her. She pressed on.

“I was there...with her...and it still turned out...like this...”

She was supposed to be the guardian, and yet, it had been Bel who’d shielded her from harm. To be protected, then be given money for her trouble... It infuriated her.

Suddenly, she let out a humorless laugh.

“Hah, but then again...serves me right. I’m the one who let her get kidnapped... Maybe I am worth exactly two silver coins...”

She clenched her teeth. Her head spun and her jaw ached, but she did not stop. Inch by laborious inch, she dragged herself along the forest floor, fueled by a furious loyalty—not love, perhaps, but no less powerful—to her young mistress.

“So you’re telling me my loyalty is worth two silvers... All right then... I’ll show you what two silvers buy in this business...”

Steadily, she vanished into the thicket, heading toward Saint-Noel Academy and help.