In the Exiled Mansion
Iria sat on her bed inside her own room.
Her own.
She had everything she could ever need within the exiled mansion. If not for the maid uniform she wore, it would be impossible to tell whether she was a servant at all.
Such was the luxury she enjoyed; privileges most maids could not even dream of.
Yet, despite it all, Iria wanted only one thing:
"To be with the Young Lord. Forever."
She whispered it under her breath again and again.
She did not care about luxuries nor care for comfort. All she ever wanted… was for Seven Hart to stop abandoning her every time his personality shifted.
Seven was quite healthy, but not the healthiest.
Or one could say "almost decent health" that was not too frail but not completely healthy either.
His health only deteriorated because of…
'...This.'
Iria thought, as she stared at her palms glowing with deep purple light.
Cursed healing.
A twisted form of magic that healed while devouring. It could either drain the caster's life or worsen the patient's condition.
But Iria had never known the technicalities. Her fragmented memories were nothing more than being sold across continents, from household to household, as a disposable maid.
All she knew was this: her magic could heal… or poison.
Yet, the irony was that she was better at the latter.
For years, she would induce minute traces of poison into Seven's herbal tea that was just enough to make him ill. When he would grow ill, she would nurse him back with healing magic.
But that healing… was so slow that it would lull him into sleep.
Only then she would slip in more poison again.
After all, 'more poison + more need for her healing = more reasons not to abandon her'.
'...This is the only way to be with him forever.'
After all, things had changed.
Given that Seven was recently gaining a bit more muscles probably due to some healing pills or drugs that purged all of the toxins she had put years to induce overnight.
He had also successfully opened the first gate thanks to Eden, in which it helped him gain a bit healthier complexion because of Zaen.
"If he becomes strong… he won't need me anymore…"
Her hand trembled as she deactivated the magic in her palms.
"Then I need to give him a dose strong enough to cripple him."
She stood up and smiled.
It was the kind of smile that danced between euphoria and madness.
"That way… I can take care of him… forever."
***
In the Exiled Mansion
Cough.
Seven coughed, as he accidentally bit his tongue a few minutes ago.
Step.
He walked over to the window to check if the wolf pup was still hanging around. But all he saw was an empty stainless bowl and a half-crushed gallon of water.
He smiled.
That only meant the pup had somewhere to return to: a home.
Hff…
He took a deep breath as he ran a hand through his hair.
'Subspace.'
He thought.
|| Subspace Inventory ||
⊣⊳ Jar of Assorted Pills
⊣⊳ Stale Bread (x8)
⊣⊳ Large Candles (x5)
⊣⊳ Desk
⊣⊳ Futon
⊣⊳ Chairs (x2)
He frowned.
Closing his eyes, he tried visualizing himself inside the subspace. That was the main reason he bought that futon and those chairs in the first place.
But nothing happened.
"...As I thought."
He clicked his tongue.
He needed Zevi.
More specifically, he needed to buy himself before he could use that feature of the subspace.
His first idea was the Auction Bidding event happening at the end of Nocten. But he scratched that off given that this continent did not allow living beings to be registered as auction items.
Even if they did, the bet he placed on Eden's opponent would not be enough.
Another problem was, he forgot to claim the winnings before heading back to the exiled mansion after the Academy registration.
"…I'll just pick it up tomorrow."
He mumbled to himself as he turned away from the window and towards the door.
The official exam was scheduled to start tomorrow anyway for everyone who managed to register their names.
But before that, he needed to prepare.
'Trait.'
|| Trait: Imperial Bower ||
Haaah…
He stared at the name for a moment, then sighed as no description still showed to explain the content of the exclusive trait he obtained.
Step.
But before he could reach the doorknob, someone from outside knocked.
Knock. Knock.
Creak.
He opened the door.
Outside, Iria stood straight whilst holding a silver tray with rye bread and a cup of steaming herbal tea.
"Ah! You're already awake, Young Lord?"
"…Yeah."
He looked at the tray, then back to her face.
"You didn't eat anything last night, so I thought… you'd like something light before the breakfast."
Seven stepped aside without a word and gestured for her to enter.
Step.
Iria entered and placed the tray down on his desk.
Seven shut the door behind her and followed towards the desk and stared at it.
The tea was the usual deep brown-green hue, with tiny herbs floating near the surface.
"You made this?"
"Of course, Young Lord! Just like always."
"…Right."
Step.
He stepped closer and slowly leaned on the edge of the desk.
Iria clasped her hands in front of her as if watching him and did not urge him to drink or mention anything else.
Seven reached toward the cup but paused an inch away.
"You've always made it… this exact way?"
Iria tilted her head.
"Is something wrong, Young Lord?"
Tap. Tap.
His fingers tapped once on the rim of the porcelain.
"…No"
Slowly, he lifted the cup and drank one-third in one gulp before putting it back on the table again.
"I'll drink the rest later."
"Ah, of course. Then I'll prepare breakfast and return to clean up the tray."
She bowed, turned, and walked toward the door.
Step.
But halfway there, she stopped.
"Ah! Try not to push yourself today, Young Lord! You've only recently regained your health."
"..."
Seven did not reply.
Iria lingered a second longer, then opened the door and left.
Click.
The door closed.
Seven stared at the tray again.
"...Fudge. That hurts my throat."
'Retrieve: Pills.'
He thought.
A jar of assorted pills appeared before his hand.
"She really knows how to break a man."