The Half-Blood’s Secret

The morning after Edith’s triumph over the Horned Beast, which had saved the surviving members of the small merchant convoy, Kohl Town settled back into its accustomed peace and quiet.

The presence of the Templar Knights had not altered the atmosphere significantly. Their encampment on the outskirts of town rarely disturbed the daily lives of the residents.

Despite everyone urging her to rest for a few more days, Edith insisted on tending to the wounded and continued with her plans to visit homes.

“Good morning, Sister. What a coincidence, I was just about to head out.”

“Edith, did you rest well?”

Edith, carrying a small basket, had just stepped out of the church when she encountered Gwynevere in the square. They greeted each other as they always did.

“About the same as usual, no nightmares or anything,” Edith replied after a moment’s thoughtful purse of her lips. “Although I still feel a little unsettled, everyone’s been comforting me. I can’t stay down for too long.”

“That’s good. I didn’t have anything specific; I just wanted to check on you.” Gwynevere nodded at Edith. “Since you seem fine, I’ll head back to the encampment.”

Yet, she did not leave immediately as her words suggested. Instead, her gaze fell upon Daphne, who was following closely behind Edith.

At this moment, Daphne still maintained the appearance of Ellenore Perkin. She wore the long white Gothic dress Edith had given her, her silver hair brushed smoothly and neatly. A butterfly hair ornament, inlaid with red and blue gemstones on a silver chain, shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Her small legs, clad in white stockings and stepping delicately in milky-white, diamond-studded high heels, moved with a reserved, cautious gait, making her appear both elegant and adorable.

“Good morning, Miss Ellenore. Are you settling in well here?” Gwynevere greeted Daphne as well.

“I-I’m doing well, thank you…” Daphne’s voice trembled, and her posture seemed somewhat unsteady. “Thank you for your concern, Your Holiness…”

“But your face is rather flushed.” Gwynevere’s observation skills were keen; she immediately noticed something was amiss with Daphne. “Are you feeling unwell? If so, please inform us promptly.”

“N-nothing of the sort… Perhaps I just didn’t sleep well last night…” Pressed by the Saintess’s calm inquiry, Daphne, in her nervousness, couldn’t help but take a step back.

A light, silvery jingling sound chimed.

“Bells?”

Gwynevere felt puzzled, as she hadn’t noticed any bell ornaments on Daphne. Daphne hadn’t made a similar sound when she walked out of the church earlier.

Daphne’s face instantly flushed crimson. She stammered, unsure how to reply, and the atmosphere grew somewhat awkward.

“It’s her hair ornament, Sister, listen.” Edith stepped lightly to Daphne’s side, her expression unperturbed. She reached out and playfully flicked the butterfly hair ornament on Daphne’s head. The long silver chains hanging from it swayed gently, producing a sound akin to bells. “Isn’t it beautiful? Miss Ellenore looks absolutely stunning like this.”

“I see,” Gwynevere mused. “But if you’re feeling unwell, I still recommend resting in your room.”

“I’ll look after Miss Ellenore, so you don’t need to worry, Sister.” Edith positioned herself between Gwynevere and Daphne, chuckling softly. “Speaking of which, did you only return last night? What were you doing?”

“The movements of the beast packs have been strange recently, so I went to investigate briefly.” Gwynevere did not speak the truth.

Daphne was quite surprised. In her understanding, Gwynevere never lied. How could an emotionless automaton deliberately conceal her thoughts?

“Oh? Is that truly the case?” Edith frowned, dissatisfied, having noticed the unnatural evasiveness in Gwynevere’s eyes. “Sister has changed; she’s no longer telling the truth.”

“I’m looking for a half-blood, with dark red hair, about this tall,” Gwynevere conceded, unable to resist Edith. She gestured below her nose. “She might know Godfather’s whereabouts. I want to capture her and question her.”

“A half-blood?” Edith feigned surprise, acting very frightened. “She might have already blended into the crowd. What should we do?”

“Alright, that’s all we can do, then,” Edith sighed. “Are you also going to search for Father’s whereabouts today, Sister?”

“Yes, I’m off now.” Gwynevere bowed slightly to Edith and Daphne, then turned and departed.

Edith remained in place, watching Gwynevere leave until the tall figure disappeared around the corner. Only then did she turn back, eyeing Daphne with a suspicious gaze.

“Father’s whereabouts? What’s going on?” the blonde girl demanded in a low voice.

“I… I don’t know…” Daphne was still immersed in the shame of the bells and the butterfly ornament. Who would have thought that one wave of trouble would follow another? The sisters’ exchange of information had inadvertently brought disaster upon her.

Edith grabbed Daphne’s hand and quickened her pace. The light, silvery jingle echoed clearly across the square in front of the church, making Daphne so mortified she wished she could bury her face in the ground.

Her mind was almost burned to a pulp by the intense stimulation and shame. It wasn’t until Edith pulled her into a small alley behind the houses that she finally regained her senses.

Edith no longer wore her relaxed, carefree expression. The moment Bertram was mentioned, she became serious. He was the adoptive father she most respected and was most grateful for; her life had regained hope because of Bertram.

“Is what Sister said true?” Edith gripped Daphne’s hand and pressed her against the brick wall, completely disregarding the dust that stained her pristine white dress. “Is that half-blood she mentioned you?”

“I-I truly don’t know…”

The butterfly ornament was tied tightly, and the weight of the two bells was not light for where they were placed. Daphne was almost driven mad by the stimulation, utterly unable to formulate an excuse or strategy. She could only shake her head, offering pale denials and explanations.

“Change back,” Edith said coldly.

“Ugh!?”

“Change back,” Edith repeated, glaring fiercely at the panicked Daphne with her sea-blue eyes. “Change back into your half-blood form here, now.”