Whether Esli herself was aware of the curse was beside the point for now.
Considering various factors, Ghervil resolved not to bring up the subject directly.
Not everyone could readily accept the grim reality of being afflicted by a curse, and their acquaintance had not yet deepened to a point where such bluntness would be appropriate.
Stepping back, it was also plausible that she knew, choosing to feign misfortune as a veil for some deeper reason.
In that case, Ghervil was even more compelled not to reveal it and shatter such a delicate equilibrium.
The objectives of her mission and her personal concerns needed to remain distinctly separate.
“Have you made any discoveries regarding the suspicious individual Esli mentioned from the train?”
Ghervil sought to initiate the conversation by addressing the original objective that had sparked the entire incident.
Esli had been remarkably adept at concealing her own affliction.
Without the pervasive mist, how could anyone instantly discern an illness in someone who merely appeared unwell?
Most ordinary citizens understood epidemics only as conditions influenced by the mist, capable of widespread transmission, and transforming the infected into monstrous beings.
Even that level of understanding was rare.
A common person would simply attribute such symptoms to a cold, a fever, or perhaps excessive sleeplessness.
Could it be simply because he had a relative who was an agent?
That seemed even less probable, given the Epidemic Prevention Bureau’s stringent secrecy regarding such illnesses, only releasing public announcements when a situation became utterly impossible to conceal.
She was more inclined to believe the man had been swayed by the suspicious individual.
Govet-Ghervil had evidently considered this possibility as well.
“I thoroughly checked every carriage,” Govet-Ghervil replied, “and if such a person existed, either their power could shield them from my dreams, or they had already disembarked.”
“Have you encountered such a situation before?”
“Many times.”
Govet-Ghervil dismissed the notion with a touch of pride in her voice.
“The Abbess can do it, everyone at Solis Abbey can do it, and even you can do it.”
‘So, it was you who was the weakest among Solis Abbey’s members.’
Upon hearing that Govet-Ghervil could dream into reality, Ghervil had felt a pang of envy.
Now, however, she realized she had been entirely mistaken.
Reading the subtle disdain in the young woman’s eyes, Govet-Ghervil promptly leapt onto her shoulder, then scurried to the top of her head to retort.
“Don’t you dare think this is easy,” she chided, “especially since you, who can’t even harness a shred of bloodline power, are utterly incapable of it.”
“And don’t assume I’m weak! Even the founder of the Dream Society would have to address me as ‘Teacher’!”
“Truly?”
Ghervil reached up, cradling the furry ball atop her head, her fingers playfully tickling its ribs.
This was Govet-Ghervil’s singular weakness.
A burst of uncontrollable giggles erupted from the creature.
“Stop it, stop it now! I can’t bear it! If you… if you continue like this… I’ll report you to the Abbess!”
Recognizing the Abbess’s considerable authority over Ghervil, she reluctantly ceased her torment.
“Don’t you dare wander off! I’m going to sleep and recharge my energy!”
With tears of laughter still glistening at the corners of her eyes, Govet-Ghervil hopped down, grumbling indignantly, and burrowed behind the curtain before leaping onto the bed.
“Alright, alright,”
Shaking her head with a sigh, Ghervil began to clear the remnants from the table.
Around noon, perhaps a trick of perception, Ghervil sensed a slight rise in the ambient temperature.
Mistfall City, being the southernmost city in the kingdom, should not, by all accounts, have been warmer in summer than any coastal region influenced by warm currents.
Scarcely had this sensation registered when the entire space abruptly plunged into darkness.
Switching on the electric lamp and pulling back the curtain revealed an impenetrable blackness outside, through which only the faint, reflective sheen of the light concrete reinforced walls was barely discernible.
If her guess was correct, the train had entered a long tunnel.
Approximately fifteen minutes later, light returned, unveiling a sprawling, encircling mountain range beyond the window.
She now understood the reason for the temperature increase: Florence City was situated within a basin.
A rustle from behind the curtain announced that Govet-Ghervil, roused by the heat, had climbed out of bed.
Her sleep had been unusually restless, leaving her more fatigued with each passing moment.
The entire rodent emerged listlessly, seeking water.
It was hardly surprising, considering she wore a full fur coat; it would be strange if she weren’t hot.
Ghervil observed that its fur was somewhat longer than that of a typical chinchilla, and combined with its pristine white color, she suspected it hailed from the northern snow-capped mountains.
Amused, Ghervil poured two cups of water for the creature to quench its thirst, then sought out a steward for a block of ice meant for cooling and preservation.
Placing the ice on a porcelain plate nearby to lower the ambient temperature, Govet-Ghervil finally settled onto the cooler tea table, slowly drifting back to sleep.
Seizing the opportunity provided by the remaining two or three hours, she retrieved the Nightmare Revelation materials from her travel case to prepare her study routine.
At three o’clock that afternoon.
The train finally pulled into the station.
In the adjacent compartment, she found Knight Esli, who had changed into a somewhat more conventional attire.
Still, it was hardly entirely conventional; her coat remained the same, but the sweater underneath had been replaced by a high-necked shirt, with everything else unchanged. Carrying a large, half-human-sized trunk, the two descended from the train.
It wasn’t until they had exited the station that Govet-Ghervil, stifled to the point of un-mouse-like misery, was finally allowed out.
Were one a young maiden, they would undoubtedly adore this city.
Ghervil felt an unwavering certainty about this.
Every flower shop boasted a greenhouse, shaded by protective netting, brimming with blossoms.
Floral motifs permeated every corner.
From storefront signs to the intricate shapes of lampposts and directional markers, flowers were everywhere.
Across the street, a shopfront featured a wooden frame adorned with colorful stained-glass windows.
Inside, a rotating display showcased potted flowers nestled in beds of verdant moss.
Ghervil recognized few of these blooms, managing only to identify a couple of pots that appeared to contain chrysanthemums and jasmine.
Moreover, to mitigate pollution, the city possessed another distinctive characteristic.
The number of trams monopolizing the thoroughfares vastly outnumbered public buses.
Aside from its somewhat high temperature, the city seemed quite conducive to long-term residency.
Yet, this heat was merely transient; with the end of August fast approaching, the scorching period would soon conclude.
For a fleeting moment, Ghervil entertained the notion of spending the entire autumn season reveling in the city’s charm.
“Perhaps we should find a coffee house to rest?”
“I want mine with extra sugar and ice.”
“Do they even serve iced coffee?”
“Instant coffee would suffice.”
“Hmm?”
She realized that the voice responding to her belonged to Govet-Ghervil, perched on her left shoulder.
Glancing around, Ghervil failed to spot the female knight.
“That hapless fool has been utterly captivated by the flowers,” Govet-Ghervil declared, pointing a paw in a certain direction.
There, Esli was bent low before a flower shop, excitedly admiring the blossoms flanking its entrance, as if she had never witnessed such beauty before.
One could hardly blame her; years of knightly service had likely offered her little exposure to such delicate wonders.
“Didn’t you mention your train and approximate arrival time in your reply letter? Why hasn’t anyone come to meet you?”
“Oh, right, I almost forgot about that.”
Tapping her head, Ghervil squinted, surveying her surroundings.
After a thorough search, she found no sign of Mrs. Rose, nor anyone from the church.
Her distinctive features—white hair and golden eyes—made her instantly recognizable amidst any crowd.
She had stood there for half the day, drawing many gazes, yet no one had approached them.
Surely, the letter hadn’t failed to arrive?
She had sent her reply on Thursday when purchasing the ticket, and today was Saturday; it was entirely possible it hadn’t reached them yet.
“What should we do?”
Unable to decide, she consulted the furry ball on her shoulder.
“It’s quite simple,” Govet-Ghervil chirped. “Just find any church and figure out a way to contact Rose Manor.”
“If you’d prefer not to go directly, we could spend a day exploring. A city with such a developed tourism industry must have plenty of enjoyable sights.”
Indeed, the flower exhibition wasn’t until the day after tomorrow, so there was no immediate rush; they had a full day to spare.
“Ahem… let’s not forget we are here on serious business,” Ghervil admonished, “and leisure cannot be our primary objective.”
“You already seem to have an idea.”
Govet-Ghervil, however, couldn’t fathom her sister’s duplicity, for her desire to play was plainly written across her face.
Hoisting her trunk, Ghervil began walking towards the female knight.
“Before that, we have a friend to visit.”