Black Ice ✓ | Deathsworn #1

Chapter 10 ∞ Deliverer

The events of my day out with my mother was still fresh in my mind. After filling my stomach with breakfast, I holed myself up in my room and sank into mixing oils. It had been a few days since then, a week at most. I have become so engrossed in my new hobby. I felt it was also my way of reconnecting with my old self—something that I still wasn't ready to get over.

My materials were insufficient, even so. I needed a weighing scale to determine how much I was putting in. So far, I'm getting by with the dropper while taking down notes on how much I think I'm putting in.

I found it hard to retrace the same methods I was taught before. There were moments in the past week that I have questioned my decision with the oils. I was not talented in mixing scents like my previous life's mother have been. She taught me things, and I have helped her out a couple of times. I did not, however, dedicate a lot of my time to it. Not to mention things were not so the same in this world.

Good grace, who was I even kidding? Why was I even doing this in the first place?

Yet no matter how many times I questioned and doubted my decisions, I somehow kept myself from giving up and persisted.

Sometimes I wondered why I was making myself suffer this way. Then again, no reward came without suffering.

Plops echoed in my ears. I carefully poured small drops of the rose oil into the porcelain bowl. In my head, I counted, "One, two, thre—"

Swift, gentle knocks resounded on my door. Startled, I squeezed a little too firmly. A good few drops streamed into the bowl.

I gasped. "No."

After the moment of horror passed, disappointment and weariness took the stage. I sighed, a little disgruntled from being disturbed.

Broken from my concentration, I straightened my back and set down the dropper.

"What is it?" I asked towards the door.

It slid open and my Mistress Veronika looked inside. "Evyionne," she said.

"Mistress." I stood.

"Dragon's mercy...this place reeks!" She reached up to pinch her nose close, fanning out the air in front of her—as though that would really make a difference. "Open the windows!"

"They already are!" I said, pointing to my only pair of windows in the room.

"Come on out, Evyionne, and leave the doors open. We need to air out this place. What are you even doing in here?" Veronika's voice had turned nasal. It made the situation a little more comical compared to how serious she was.

"But I'm not finished..." I muttered in protest.

"It doesn't matter. Clean up and proceed to the garden with me. I have much to show you."

I scratched my head. Mistress Veronika showing me something?

I learned long before that Mistress Veronika was talented for...violent things. And when I say violent things, I meant that she knew how to wield blades. She had a knack for all things sharp. In fact, she was assigned to do most of the slicing and dicing in the kitchen. I had regularly received the tutelage of the other mistresses, but Mistress Lamia and Mistress Veronika had not taught me anything from the crafts they specialized in.

'Quite a disappointing thing to use it on,' was what I first thought.

"And change your clothes." Her voice sharply cut through my reverie, pulling me out of another stupor I had fallen into. "Something more comfortable. And where you can move in."

Ooh. This wasn't looking good. If I was anything, I was lazy. I could sit on my ass all day—and I would if it weren't for the fact that I had to go to the bathroom occasionally. I definitely would not even think about exercising.