A week’s time slipped by quietly amidst repetitive chores and occasional practice.
The garret had undergone some changes.
The crooked partition wall now had a piece of dense, pure black cloth hung over it, barely blocking the view between the two beds placed side by side.
On the side belonging to Rena and Helen, a small rug that Aurelia had later picked up from a general store was spread on the floor, so the two wouldn’t get hurt too badly if they rolled off the bed in their sleep.
The wooden table had also been repaired by Aurelia.
An old fruit basket now sat on it, containing some fruits that Uncle Ragnar occasionally kindly gave her.
The arrival of Rena and Helen had infused this garret with more liveliness and warmth.
The little priestess was still timid about her surroundings, spending most of her time on the bed, praying devoutly and practicing her divine arts.
However, the deep-seated fear and sorrow in her eyes had not completely faded.
She was still very troubled by the church’s abandonment, yet she refused to discard the holy emblem she had painstakingly glued back together.
Helen, on the other hand, was much more settled.
He quietly rested to recover from his injuries, helped Aurelia clean the garret room, and fixed whatever could be repaired in the room.
Although his methods were crude, they were at least functional.
The leather leg holster gifted by Ragnar was now strapped to the outside of her other thigh.
The soft, fleece-lined interior perfectly conformed to her skin without any friction.
And this gold-ranked old mischief of an uncle seemed to have taken a certain interest in looking after her.
Upon learning that she was secretly practicing throwing, within two days, he tossed a heavy, coarse cloth pouch onto the table she had just wiped clean.
Inside were over a dozen uniformly shaped, thin, lightweight throwing daggers.
…
The blades were about three inches long, with clean, streamlined contours.
They felt slightly heavy in the hand, with an excellent center of balance, and the handles were wrapped with fine cord for grip.
“Uncle, this…”
“Stop yapping. Just take them if I’m giving them to you.”
Ragnar blew out a smoke ring, his eyes watching the people coming and going at the tavern entrance as he took a huge gulp of the beer Aurelia had just served him.
“Playing with throwing knives, if the tools aren’t right, it won’t work. Get good with these, and you can even scare off any clueless little thieves.”
But Aurelia didn’t refuse again.
She silently accepted them.
This gift made her even more suspicious than the previous leg holster.
The leg holster could perhaps be explained as concern for a girl living alone, but these clearly well-made throwing daggers… something just didn’t add up.
Now, the mobility in her right wrist had recovered its flexibility, and the deep cut on her neck had mostly healed, about seventy or eighty percent.
Aurelia covered it with a white, semi-transparent ribbon.
This made her movements smoother when practicing throwing, and her accuracy slowly improved through the monotonous daily repetition.
…
Another ordinary evening arrived.
The cleaning work before the tavern closed was nearing its end.
Aurelia placed the last stack of dried wooden cups back on the shelf and rubbed her slightly sore lower back.
Helen’s injury… seemed to need another roll of bandages?
But this would be the last change.
After having the little priestess heal him a few more times, the injury basically wouldn’t affect his movements anymore.
“Boss Andre,” she walked over to the counter and said softly to Andre, who was tallying the day’s earnings, “I’d like to leave a bit early to buy something in the outer district.”
Andre lifted his eyes from the ledger, his gaze sweeping over her still-pale face, then looked down again.
He counted out some copper coins from the drawer and pushed them over.
“Today’s wages. Remember to go and come back quickly. Don’t linger too long.”
His tone remained flat, but he tacitly allowed her early departure.
“Thank you.”
Aurelia collected the copper coins, took the small money pouch back to the garret, then brought the bread that hadn’t sold tonight and the simple side dishes she had made using the kitchen for the little priestess and little brother.
She checked the leg holsters strapped to each of her thighs and the hidden blades within them, all concealed in the shadows of her skirt hem.
…
A sense of security came from these metals warmed by her body heat and her increasingly proficient skills.
“Both of you, eat dinner and rest early. I’m going out for a bit.”
Aurelia stood behind the partition changing clothes.
She hung up the work uniform she had completely altered into a proper maid’s outfit and changed into her everyday clothes.
“Sister Lia, it’s so late. Where are you going?”
Helen looked up upon hearing this, his tone still carrying a note of concern.
“Just buying the last bit of bandages, and then…”
She tapped her chin, letting out a light laugh in a tone meant to coax a child, “How about I buy you a piece of candy?”
“Sister Lia, why do you always treat me like a kid…”
Though Helen said this, the smile he couldn’t hide at all betrayed him.
Rena, meanwhile, said softly from the side, “Aurelia, please be careful on the road.”
“Mhm, don’t worry, I’ll be back soon~”
Then, she stood up, left the garret, and headed towards Twilight City’s outer district.
…
With a now-familiar sense of vigilance and speed, she first went straight to a familiar small stall by the main road and exchanged two copper coins for a few rolls of relatively clean linen bandages.
Next, she stopped at another stall selling sundries and cheap snacks, buying a small packet of hard candies wrapped in oiled paper.
Sweetness could bring a sense of happiness, especially in these difficult circumstances.
Thinking of little brother’s eyes instantly lighting up, Aurelia couldn’t help but sigh.
Carefully tucking the bandages and hard candies into her bosom, she weighed the few remaining copper coins in her pouch.
After a moment’s hesitation, she bought a newspaper from a vendor.
But the moment she opened the newspaper, the headline and content made her frown.
“Crest Family Internal Discord Intensifies, Clash Between New Generation and Old Guard.”
The smaller text below briefly described how the noble Crest family had recently experienced serious disagreements over some important decision.
Within the family, a new generation formed by collateral branches and some main family members clashed with the old guard, who insisted on sticking to tradition and were almost exclusively from the main family.
The specifics seemed to involve the future development of the Crest family?
‘Power struggles…’
Aurelia immediately thought of Helen.
He was from the Crest family too.
This news… she’d tell him when she got back.
It was better not to hide any potential problems, except for the Disaster Source in her head.
However, before she could put away the newspaper, the sound of swift footsteps suddenly reached her ears.
[Huh?]
Aurelia looked up in confusion to see a holy knight striding directly towards her from across the street.
[What? Why are you coming at me?!]
She forced herself to look away, stuffed the newspaper haphazardly into her bosom, and turned as if nothing was wrong, heading towards the other end of the main road.
But after taking only a few steps, her peripheral vision caught sight of another holy knight in the same church-issue armor emerging from a street corner in another direction, scanning the street she was on.
Seeing this, she almost instantly made a decision.
Her steps veered, and she quickly walked towards a fork in the main road, a direction leading to one of Twilight City’s outer gates.
That area had a relatively complex flow of people, with those entering and leaving the city, vehicles, and goods all mixed together.
It was the direction best suited to cover her tracks and make an escape at this moment.
However, it wasn’t until she had run out of the city that she realized the two church holy knights hadn’t pursued her.
[…Could it be I was overthinking it? Tch, sigh, seems my paranoia has been a bit heavy lately…]
Perhaps their target wasn’t her at all.
They were just coincidentally on some patrol or search mission, and her jumpy reaction was rather laughable.
The newspaper about the Crest family’s internal strife was still tucked in her bosom, reminding her that there were still two people in the garret she needed to worry about and care for.
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