Sunlight had already crept past the edges of the heavy curtains when the sound of voices outside his door dragged Jiro out of sleep. For one blissful moment, the wide, soft mattress and the quiet of a private room let him believe he was still somewhere safe and ordinary. Then the events of the previous night slammed back into his wide awake mind with brutal clarity.
He sat up slowly. The formal outer robe from the banquet was still twisted around his body, wrinkled beyond recognition. His hair stuck up in every possible direction. The side of his head where it had struck the carriage frame the day before gave a dull, protesting throb. He rubbed both eyes with the heels of his hands, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stumbled toward the door on legs that still felt half-asleep.
The voices outside had quieted. Only a soft, waiting silence remained. Jiro lifted the heavy wooden bar, cracked the door open a cautious hand’s width, and peered out.
The same slender face from the bathhouse stared straight back at him.
Now that she was out in the light he could see she had dark eyes, soft features, and hair that had been loosely tied back. The simple servant’s dress she now wore did nothing to hide how delicate her frame still was. The moment their eyes met, she offered a small, hopeful smile that made something in Jiro’s stomach drop straight through the floor.
Without saying a word, he slammed the door shut so hard the frame of the solid door rattled.
From the other side came a soft, heartbroken voice, pitched just loud enough to carry through the wood.
“Sage-sama… do you not like me perhaps? Does my young body not able to serve your taste? Am I… too ugly?”
Jiro pressed both palms flat against the door, trying to make sure she doesn’t force her way in. Then he spoke through gritted teeth, keeping his voice low in case any early-rising servants were nearby.
“What nonsense are you saying, girl? You’re talking as if I bought you for that kind of purpose. Stop speaking like that before someone overhears and gets the completely wrong idea.”
There was a short silence over that side. Then, a quieter and more careful voice spoke, “Then… why did you buy me back then?”
“Girl. I thought you were a boy. Your whole body was covered in those loose clothes. And your chest looked flat, too. You were skinny and sick-looking on top of it. Of course I got the completely wrong idea, now that I think about it. I only stepped in because I couldn’t stand watching that merchant kick you around like garbage. Your build wasn’t suited for hard labor, and you didn’t look like you’d last long as a scholar’s attendant either. You looked like you were about to break. So, I felt…… pity, you know. That’s all.”
From that side came another stretch of silence. When the girl spoke again her voice carried a new, almost cautious note.
“So… you aren’t into girls, but boys?”
“Oi!” Jiro’s voice cracked loudly. But he immediately winced and lowered it again. “Did you even listen to a single word I just said? I felt pity for you. Pity. That is why I bought you. Is that concept so hard for people from the capital to understand? Why is everyone’s imagination in this city so twisted? God.”
The corridor outside went completely quiet.
Jiro waited. Five seconds. Maybe ten. When no further voice came, he carefully, very carefully, cracked the door open again, just wide enough to risk one eye through the gap.
Suddenly, jolting him back a little, a hand shot out with surprising speed and strength, gripped the edge of the door, and yanked it wide open.
The girl stepped across the threshold as though she owned the place. The teary, fragile expression from moments earlier had vanished completely. In its place sat a sharp, clear-eyed, almost mischievous face that looked like it belonged to an entirely different person. She closed the door behind her with her heel, crossed her arms under her modest chest, and let out a long, theatrical sigh of pure relief.
“Heh. Then that’s a load off my mind. Phew.” She actually wiped imaginary sweat from her brow with the back of one hand. “I really thought I was done for last night. First I get dragged out of that merchant’s pen by Temple knights, then I hear I’m being handed over to the new Sage himself… I figured my fate was sealed either way. Either a cheap brothel at a dirt-cheap price, or becoming some high-and-mighty man’s bedwarmer. I was already preparing myself to just close my eyes and endure whatever came next.”
She grinned with a bright and completely shameless expression on her face, and even let out a short, genuine laugh.
“Hah-ha…. But if the great Sage-sama only bought me out of pity and has zero interest in using my body, then I guess I don’t have to worry about any of that. Hahahaha!”
The sudden transformation from pitiful crying girl to this blunt, laughing, almost cocky creature left him momentarily speechless. One second she had been on the verge of tears over whether he found her attractive; the next she was standing in the middle of his private chamber, joking about narrowly avoiding a life of forced prostitution. The shift was so complete it felt like watching someone remove a mask and act like their true self in stage dramas.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, old conversations with Miss Grisha at the village apothecary floated up, stories about people whose moods and personalities could change so abruptly that it almost seemed like two different souls sharing one body. He had never seen it himself. Until possibly right now.
‘Does this girl have a screw loose in her head or something?’
He decided, after a long internal debate that lasted all of three heartbeats, that he did not care enough to find out at this exact moment. As long as she did not cause him any actual trouble, he could live with a little eccentricity.
“Fine,” he said at last, waving a hand toward the door in what he hoped looked like authoritative dismissal. “Whatever. Just… get out of my room. I’m going back to sleep for a while. Yesterday was long enough of a trouble you caused me without starting today with more complications.”
The girl blinked at him as though he had just suggested something genuinely insane.
“Huh? Why would I go outside?” She tilted her head, expression openly puzzled. “I’m your slave, aren’t I? Isn’t it obvious that I stay in my master’s room?”
Jiro’s mouth opened in genuine rage.
The simple, matter-of-fact way she said it left him completely flat-footed. In Doldia no one owned slaves. The very idea of a person belonging to another person had been a distant theory to him until the market the day before. He knew very little about slaves and their rules, and now this girl, this strange, sharp-tongued, possibly unhinged girl, felt like she was stating gibberish to him. She was standing in his bedroom informing him that of course she would be living here, as if it were the most natural arrangement in the world.
He managed only a single, strangled sound.
“…Huh? What the hell is this crazy girl saying?!”