A Night of Lingering Shadows and New Inquiries

While having dinner with her maids, Iordera recalled something she had seen on the road.

“The city lord is scheduled to deliver a a city-wide address the day after tomorrow. Are either of you planning to attend?”

Nina lifted a bewildered face. “A city-wide address? What concern is that of mine?”

“…Aren’t we also residents of this city?”

“Only temporarily, My Lady,” Nina replied. “Once your work is concluded, we shall depart.”

Yuna added, “We are merely passing through.”

There was some truth to their words; so be it.

“Still, I suppose I should go,” Iordera said. “I’m curious to hear what he has to say… By the way, have either of you heard of the City Lord of Junefort? What kind of person is he?”

Both maids shook their heads in unison, too languid even to utter a single word.

Evidently, they had never heard of him.

Hearing this, Iordera decided to drop the topic.

****

Having finished her meal, the day drew to a close. Iordera entered the bathroom and indulged in a fragrant bath.

Even without bathing, she carried a delicate tea fragrance from the camellia oil that always clung to her.

Gripping a loofah in one hand, she twisted her arm at an impossibly contorted angle, reaching from her armpit to her back, ensuring every inch received an even scrub.

‘Truly remarkable,’ she mused. ‘A doll’s body is indeed wonderful.’

After her bath, Iordera settled comfortably into bed, extinguishing the light and closing her eyes.

“Nina, Yuna,” she called out in a small voice to the adjacent room. “Good night!”

“Good night, My Lady. Thank you for waking us.”

“Our gratitude knows no bounds.”

‘You’re welcome; it’s only right.’

Zzzz

****

“Little brother, I certainly trust you. I felt a connection with you the moment I saw you.”

“Come, have another drink.”

Amidst the clinking of glasses, the Red Star Erguotou bottle transformed into a crude soju bottle, and the retail store owner’s face shifted, becoming that of a sparsely-haired, bearded uncle.

“Have a drink, little girl.”

Dazed, she took the glass, only to look down and find a modified delivery order staring back at her.

“!”

Iordera jolted awake, a cold sweat chilling a large patch of her back.

“Hoo, hoo—”

In the dead of night, the room was as silent as a tomb, her ragged breathing piercing the stillness.

Iordera sat up, rubbing her hands together, shivering with cold.

Unable to fall back asleep for a while, she dressed and rose, pacing a few steps around the room.

Her mind was a kaleidoscope of flashing images: events since arriving in this otherworld, the words spoken by Andrew from next door that very evening.

And the modified delivery order that remained in her original world.

‘Had she truly never left that night?’

Remembering the witch’s words from earlier, Iordera sighed silently.

Perhaps she had indeed never truly moved on from that night she called her boss.

****

Switching on her bedroom light, she glanced around, spotting the diary she had used the last time insomnia plagued her, resting on the table.

‘Since I’m already beyond conventional, perhaps… I should write in it again?’

Iordera turned to the second page and lifted her pencil—

[Junefort: A city steeped in chaos.

It imprisons Hecate, a witch of extreme peril. Due to Hecate’s presence, many masked figures have arrived in Junefort; they are the witch’s minions, seeking to sow disorder and find a way to free her.

According to Andrew, the City Lord has devised a countermeasure, inviting numerous alchemical artisans from Ironhammer Town to complete a major project. Judging by their specialized skills, it is likely something involving alchemical apparatus.]

After writing these words, Iordera stared at the notebook for a long time, unable to find any fault with her entries.

Finally, with a change of thought, she picked up her pen to add a few more lines—

[Sir Olcott had inadvertently mentioned that the masked figures in the city were not what I imagined. However, that fellow is a damn riddler, never speaking clearly and refusing to acknowledge his words afterward.

Yet he did confirm one other thing: the masked figures’ actions are mere trifles, utterly incapable of freeing the witch. They cannot bypass the Runic Chains, so their ostensible motive does not truly exist.

The intelligence about the witch’s minions came from Andrew, whose source is most likely the City Lord himself, making it officially verified information.]

Iordera paused, gently poking the words with the tip of her pen, creating several tiny black dots on the paper.

‘I can’t discern much from this; I’ll wait until the day after tomorrow to hear the City Lord’s own account.’

‘Hopefully, I’m just worrying needlessly.’

After finishing her diary entry, she erased everything with a rubber, then lay back down on the bed.

This time, her mind felt calmer. ‘Time to sleep.’

Zzzz

****

“Early birds catch the worm-worm, late birds are dead-dead, because they woke up late-late-bird~~~”

“Ah!”

Iordera’s back stiffened in fright, and she shot upright like a Lego brick.

She saw Nina and Yuna both sitting on her bed, Yuna especially, practically sprawling over her, incredibly close.

That eerie, hellish song had been sung by this busty maid.

“What are you two doing?” Iordera snapped, annoyed. “Yuna, what in the world was that you were singing?”

“It’s a local folk song,” Yuna replied earnestly, “to teach little children not to oversleep.”

“I wasn’t asking what kind of song it was; I was asking… why are you singing that song for no reason?”

‘And singing it while sprawled on top of me, as if afraid the song wouldn’t penetrate my eardrums and reach my very soul.’

“My Lady, we only meant well,” Nina said, stifling a yawn beside her. “If you don’t get up soon, you’ll be late for work.”

Iordera glanced outside and, indeed, the sun had been shining for quite some time.

Having woken up in the middle of the night, she was suffering from a lack of sleep.

She quickly changed her clothes, got out of bed, and rushed to wash up.

By the time Iordera was ready to leave, she found both maids had already returned to bed for a second nap.

‘So, you two purposely got up just to exact revenge for last night’s “good night”?’

****

The day passed peacefully, devoid of any unexpected incidents.

Even Hecate, the witch, was quiet, silently accepting her breakfast plate and eating, then proactively handing the empty plate back.

She behaved with an elegance that suggested she truly was some sheltered noblewoman.

Iordera herself breathed a sigh of relief; yesterday’s conversation had been far too perilous, her thoughts constantly led astray by the other party.

If they were to converse like that a few more times, she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t eventually be PUA (TL Note: PUA, or Pick-Up Artist, refers to manipulative emotional tactics often used for control.).

“Um, since there’s nothing much to discuss today, may I perhaps…”

“I’m not ‘um,’ dearest,” the witch said, smiling at her. “You know my name.”

Iordera hesitated for a moment, then, steeling herself, said, “Miss Hecate, may I take my leave?”

“You may, but next time, omit the ‘Miss’,” Hecate chuckled softly. “My age hardly warrants such a title.”

“Understood, Hecate. I’ll be going now.”

Iordera turned and walked away with the plate, not daring to inquire about her actual age.

Her plan for today was still to visit the library and read, though this time she wouldn’t seek out Sheila’s biography.

Instead, she intended to learn about the City Lord of Junefort.

As the most renowned figure in Junefort, surely there would be plenty of information about him in the library.