A Devilish Companion

Click-clack.

The heels clicked a crisp rhythm against the wooden staircase.

Yet, the footsteps were slow and clumsy, occasionally continuous, then abruptly broken, making one worry that their owner might stumble at any moment.

The nuns and the wounded in the main hall of the church were all drawn by the novel sound of high heels. They looked towards the staircase in unison, only to see a white snow lotus, blooming and closing, gracefully swaying.

The high heels, adorned with pearls and diamond chips, were opulent, and above them, calves extended in elegant, slender curves. The ruffled hem of a skirt rose and fell with each crossing step.

The silver-haired girl descended the steps little by little, patiently supported by Edith. Her movements were as awkward and cautious as a child learning to walk, yet she exuded an ineffable air of nobility at every moment.

Her emerald eyes sparkled like starlight, clear and bright, holding a hint of apprehension, yet not quite despair.

Ellenore Perkin, the Grand Chantress who usually enveloped herself in conservative robes, had actually donned a vibrant dress, the kind fashionable young women in big cities would wear.

The hall fell silent, leaving only the crisp sound of footsteps and the occasional hushed gasp of awe.

This must all be Edith’s doing.

Only an angelic being like her could persuade the Grand Chantress to set aside rigid doctrines and traditions, allowing the youth and beauty unique to a young woman to fully blossom.

To outsiders, Edith and Ellenore must have shared a close and friendly relationship; otherwise, why would one teach the other how to walk in high heels?

In reality, however, this was nothing but a beautiful illusion.

Daphne, disguised as Ellenore, wasn’t unsteady because she was unfamiliar with high heels. Rather, it was due to more unspeakable reasons that even descending a staircase proved such an arduous task.

Edith, walking ahead with a patient smile, wasn’t supporting Daphne out of kindness or friendship. She was simply captivated by the sensation of Daphne’s small hand twitching and spasming in her palm. Occasionally, she’d maliciously tug, relishing in the way it exacerbated Daphne’s already faltering steps.

“No, I can’t… Sister Edith, I’m almost… I can’t go on…”

“You mustn’t slack off, darling. We can’t let anyone discover that the noble and elegant Miss Ellenore is a pervert, can we? Keep going, little one.”

“Ugh…”

After their brief exchange, audible only to them, Daphne realized she would likely have to endure the entire day in these heels.

It was pure hell.

She was profoundly grateful for Oseriel’s stockings, which absorbed moisture; otherwise, she would have undoubtedly left a trail behind her, a truly mortifying public spectacle.

As for the appellation ‘Sister Edith,’ it was a result of Edith’s coercion.

Although Ellenore was actually older than Edith, Daphne, now in Edith’s grasp and having assumed Ellenore’s appearance through disguise magic, knew Edith wouldn’t miss this prime opportunity to satisfy her desire for control.

Thus, Daphne was compelled to address Edith in this manner, and would have to do so indefinitely.

The atmosphere in the church was calm that day. The wounded were stable, and after the nuns had served them wheat porridge and tended to their injuries, they found themselves temporarily at leisure.

As soon as these young nuns, dressed in their black and white habits, saw Daphne and Edith descending the stairs, they gathered around them.

“Miss Ellenore, you look absolutely stunning in that outfit.” They showered her with praise, each gaze fixed on Daphne, who followed behind Edith.

“Thank you,” Daphne replied, suppressing all her discomfort and unease, maintaining Ellenore’s own dignified composure. “It feels alright, just a bit difficult to walk in.”

“You’ll get used to them with practice,” Edith interjected with a smile.

At least Edith still helped her conceal her identity in front of others; Daphne had no greater demands at the moment.

All she could do was endure the humiliation!

Daphne firmly believed that once she overcame this ordeal, she would see light and hope. Even a whimpering furball would surely have its day to turn the tables and become the master!

Then, she would ensure that insolent, two-faced brat knew the true meaning of cruelty. That girl, who disregarded all elders, shattered all decorum, and delighted in bullying the weak by preying on the softest targets, would finally get her comeuppance!

As if sensing her thoughts, Edith subtly tugged Daphne’s hand again, almost imperceptibly. Daphne nearly lost her balance, on the verge of crying out.

The instinctive adjustment of her steps proved a devastating blow to Daphne’s fragile, sensitive nerves. After a few more crisp taps, she was astonished herself that she managed to suppress a cry.

“Miss Ellenore, are you alright?!” The young nuns exclaimed in alarm, rushing to surround Daphne, eager to steady her.

Yet, the little nuns were unaware that their light, delicate hands, resting on her waist and back, only amplified Daphne’s sensory overload. The half-vampire girl could only rely on her heightened will to survive, stubbornly enduring, and striving not to appear too strange.

“N-no, I’m fine…” Daphne gasped faintly, struggling to straighten herself. “Thank you…”

‘Ugh… who made her the softest persimmon for a hundred miles around? She could only resign herself to Edith’s bullying for a little longer.’

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t come down all morning and left all the work to you,” Edith apologized to the nuns. “Why don’t you take turns resting? I’ll take over and help out.”

“This is our hometown, after all, and everyone in town is a familiar face; it’s only right that we care for them,” one of the young nuns with chestnut hair stepped forward. “Miss Ellenore is new to town, so perhaps you could show her around and rest a bit yourself. You’ve been the busiest these past few days, and we’re all worried you’ll wear yourself out.”

“Doing more work only makes your body healthier, you know. If you just sit and lie around, you’ll be out of breath just walking!” Edith warned the young nuns, hands on her hips. “Our Grand Chantress, Mr. Alvis, is always sitting, handling documents and translating scriptures. Now, his old back makes him pant heavily just going up and down stairs, looking as if he’s run three laps around Salenz!”

The young nuns were amused by Edith, giggling as they dispersed and returned to their duties.

Daphne’s gaze towards Edith became complex for a moment.

The blonde girl sometimes seemed unfamiliar, sometimes familiar. Daphne found it hard to believe that her kind and considerate side was entirely a pretense.

“Let’s go, and that goes for you too,” Edith said with a mischievous grin, glancing back at Daphne. “Perhaps if you wear high heels more often, you’ll adapt?”

She then forcefully pulled Daphne forward, causing her to almost stumble again.

“Ugh…”

‘Retracting her previous thoughts, this girl was simply a devil, rotten to the core.’

Edith intended to first check on the wounded in the church, then proceed to visit homes in order. Daphne was required to accompany her at all times, meaning she would have to follow Edith throughout Kohl Town.

It was, by and large, a peaceful morning.

Alas, this too was an illusion.

Outside the church, the hurried thud of horse hooves rang out erratically, followed by the heavy sound of a fall and a horse’s whinny. A young nun sweeping dust outside let out a sharp shriek.

“He’s covered in blood! Mr. Ian, are you alright?!”