Milea's laboratory was, as always, cool and quiet.
Glowing panels lined every wall.
The low hum of machinery.
An antiseptic white floor.
Milea stood at the center of it all, rolling back the sleeve of her white coat as she turned around.
"So. Have you thought it over?"
Letaria took one slow breath and straightened.
"…I accept."
The faintest softening crossed Milea's expression.
"Good. I'm glad to hear it."
"Do not misunderstand me.
I am merely saying that for now, I will consent to work under you.
I'll graciously enter into a contract with you—I, Letaria Adeniam, am saying so!"
"Thank you, Lady Letaria.
You really are very much a noble, aren't you. Even your name sounds like one."
"Old-fashioned…? I am a noble!"
Milea let out a small laugh.
For some reason, that laugh sat pleasantly in the air.
◆◆◆
"Oh—I almost forgot. Your belongings. Here."
Milea retrieved something from a shelf. A familiar bundle of cloth.
The dress Letaria had been wearing when she arrived in this world.
And the small bag she had been given at the time of her exile.
"I've had your clothes properly cleaned. I can arrange repairs if you need them."
"…Thank you."
The moment her fingers touched the dress, something in her chest ached faintly.
Her last memory of the old world.
Milea extended the bag.
"Your personal effects as well. I'm sorry it took so long."
…
(There may be unknown bacteria or viruses on her person…testing will be necessary.)
She remembered Grain's words from their first meeting.
She hadn't understood them at the time. But she hadn't been in a position to argue.
(…Come to think of it—)
Inside the bag: coins. Dried provisions. And—
(A letter…)
From Kiara.
Still unopened.
(…I can't read it. Not yet.)
She pushed the feeling gently down.
"I wanted to leave the contents undisturbed, but there was dried food in there."
Milea peered into the bag.
"I can freeze-dry and preserve it, but—would you be willing to part with it?
One of my researchers thinks they might be able to work with it."
"Of course. Please, take it!"
"Thank you. And these seeds—may I examine them as well?"
"Of course!"
Milea nodded, satisfied.
(…I wonder how food and plants from my world would be treated here.)
A quiet flicker of curiosity.
◆◆◆
"Back to business.
I'll need you to continue providing machine data—and to undergo further physical examinations."
"…"
Color rose in Letaria's face without warning.
The memory of the previous examination surfaced.
That bare table. Being asked to undress, light passing slowly across her entire body—
"I…I understand…"
"My, how cooperative."
"I am not being cooperative!"
Milea laughed, clearly enjoying herself.
"As for your role—I was thinking freelancer."
"Free…lancer?"
"Someone who takes on commissions. Gets things done for whoever hires them."
The moment she said it, Letaria's eyes lit up.
"An adventurer?!"
Milea blinked.
"…Adventurer. That's rather fantastical. But yes, something like that."
(An adventurer…)
From the picture books of her childhood.
Heroes with swords raised, vanquishing monsters, returning in triumph.
(…I used to dream of that…)
Something warm stirred in her chest.
Milea continued.
"Formally placing you with the vigilante corps or with Syn-Fibra is an option, but…
having you free to move independently works better for both of us, doesn't it?"
(…Free to move?)
There was something in Milea's eyes beyond the smile—a different shade.
(Neither the vigilante corps nor Syn-Fibra can be fully trusted to stay free of upper management's influence.)
(Keeping her freelance and close to me is the safest arrangement.)
Milea's private thoughts didn't reach her.
Only the word freedom reached Letaria. And to that, she straightened slightly.
"…Very well. It sounds like an entirely appropriate arrangement for someone of my standing."
◆◆◆
"As for the machine—shall I find you something suitable?"
"Arden, please."
Milea blinked.
"…It's old. It's unstable, and the toll on your body—"
"Arden."
Letaria held firm.
"That machine wants to be piloted by me. I can tell."
(That's entirely in her head.)
Milea pressed a hand to her forehead.
"…Fine. Repairs will take a while. Please try to be patient until then."
Letaria nodded, thoroughly satisfied.
(Arden…wait for me.)
The iron giant sleeping in the cold hangar appeared in her mind.
That unpredictable machine.
The elation of that fight.
And—
(…The one that didn't let me down.)
Letaria pressed her hand gently to her chest.
"…This world isn't so bad, perhaps."