The Maid and Her Princess

The Heartbroken Maiden (part 7)

VII. It's Her, Isn't It?

Madoka still did not want to rest. Putting a sleeping, stinky Audrey in a bathtub and washing her normally was quite an ordeal, making her quickly learn to never take her strange water magic for granted. She felt an odd pull of magic through her Golden Hand, but did not make an attempt to reach for it. Cleaning it was relatively simple. It was the only thing that was not dirty, devoid of grime and stench as she washed it. Audrey's shining hand was limp just like anyone else's while she slept, casting a faint gold outline around the metal plates that replaced her normal hand's "parts." It seemed to pulse softly as she slept, but was bright the entire way to the inn when she was awake.

Another thing to keep track of, Madoka simply noted.

After tucking her in, Madoka took a peek at her before bracing herself for her own dreams. Whatever troublesome or peaceful time Her Highness was locked in right now, she could never tell based on the girl's serene face. She was not really sure if they should have stayed with the others, but here they were. She was about to rest her head on her pillow when a faint knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts.

Madoka groaned and ignored it, hoping whoever on the other side would give up. She was already hesitant in leaving Her Highness unattended even if she was asleep and could not cause trouble somewhere. No thoughts, no one outside due to the apparent curfew, and she was sure House Dalion was quite fearsome now here in this town. Other rude adventurers will hear how one of the great Drezgor's party members got defeated by them, right? The image of Blue Hair lying in the dirt as a near dead charred corpse amused her. If they defeated a Diamond ranked adventurer, especially someone who Madoka initially felt greatly troubled by at first, would that not mean that they were as strong as a Diamond ranker? That could not be— she was probably being too arrogant. They merely got lucky, she dismissed that notion with no further greedy thought.

Then the knocking happened again like a persistent ghost, sending ripples of displeasure through Madoka. She could not sleep at the moment, but that did not mean she wanted to move and be bothered by someone at this hour. Still, she rolled out of bed, determined to thwart the disturbance. Opening the door, a small shadow appeared below her, plated with an outline of silver lighting from the moons.

"Madoka."

She heard the stranger whisper her name, soft as a breeze and gentle as a falling petal. It was Eena. Lady Eena, she corrected herself. She also suddenly remembered that she did not even show her the dragon bones in the storage talisman. There was this strange tenseness in the air and even the golden strands of magic seemed move the starry night between them. The Lady must have read her question on her face and explained herself.

"I ate them," she pointed to her lips. Under the hood of her cloak, Madoka saw that she had been crying recently. Before she knew it, she silently walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. She noticed that her robe was no longer the disheveled commoner clothing she usually wore, but more softer and clean, what a Noble woman would wear. Why did that seem unusual to her this time?

The two women headed out, one after the other. Lady Eena was wordlessly leading her and Madoka found the resistance and weariness, every beam of their stubborn supports strangely absent and shaking her guarded foundation. In the spaces between nameless buildings, shops darkened by the night; only the presence of their quiet steps over ancient cobblestone made an acoustic atmosphere that had room only for the two of them. The absence during the night even in the places where countless people trampled over in the day made Madoka feel at ease even with a Noble. Like she was alone, even though with someone. Did Audrey ever make her feel this way?

The river flowing through Gladeban began to grow distant from her ears as her boot met soft grass from hard stones and creaking wooden bridges. Madoka did not say a word, but she had a guess where Eena was leading her. The shadow of a building finally cast over Madoka, blocking the night view. It was a large house with white stone and an iron fence gathered around it, but it seemed so shabby and abandoned, giving her an inexplicable desire to start cleaning. A half hour had gone by before the Noble finally broke the silence.