Joshua must have gone mad.
Margarita soaked in the wooden tub of the inn’s bathroom, blowing bubbles as the steam turned her cheeks a deep pink and pooled water in her eyes. It was the heat of the steam, she told herself—definitely nothing else!
This wasn't how things were supposed to go in a galgame! Shouldn't it be a whole day of shopping with Lovell to increase favorability, triggering a CG, followed by the classic two-person mission, fighting side-by-side, their feelings deepening, and finally getting together... Wait... You two can’t... Huh? Was Joshua actually right then?...
Margarita overloaded again. She sank beneath the surface of the water with a series of blub-blub-blubs to cool down.
The hot water swept over her head, her white hair fanning out like a patch of melting snow. She held her breath, but her mind continued to replay the scene on loop: the sensation of Joshua’s finger brushing the corner of her mouth, the warmth of his palm against her cheek, and the sound of his heartbeat against her chest when he pulled her back. Every detail was magnified in her memory, so clear it made her want to bang her head against the side of the tub.
Waahhh...
She held her breath underwater for nearly a minute before finally bursting out when she couldn't take it anymore, her wet white hair clinging to her face and shoulders. Water droplets slid down her chin and dripped back into the water with soft splashes.
She leaned against the edge of the tub, panting for a moment, then reached out to wipe a patch of condensation from the copper mirror. The face in the mirror still held the flush from the hot water, her eyes were misty, and her lips were redder than usual from holding her breath. She stared at herself for a few seconds, once again recalling that look in Joshua’s eyes when he wiped her mouth.
“Calm down, Margarita, calm down,” she slapped her own cheeks, muttering to the air. “You’re here for business. You’re here to—”
She trailed off.
What was I here for again?
Oh, right. Save Grey, investigate the warehouse, and keep an eye on the Diestwald family. These were all serious matters; she shouldn't be thinking about anything else right now.
Yes, business. Focus on business.
But the images in her mind wouldn't stop.
“...Truly mad.” She buried her face in her arms.
...
When she finished her bath and came out, Lovell was sitting cross-legged on the bed munching on an apple. She looked up at the sound of the door, seeing Margarita emerge wrapped in a bath towel. Water was still dripping from her hair, the flush on her face hadn't quite faded, and her gaze was somewhat vacant.
“Yo,” Lovell tossed the apple core into a paper bag, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Is the little beauty finished washing?”
“Yes.” Margarita turned her back to her and began rummaging through her luggage for clothes.
“How was the water temperature?”
“Fine.”
“Why is your face still so red then?” Lovell’s smile deepened.
“...I’m just refreshed.”
“You’ve been soaking for almost an hour,” Lovell bounced off the bed and leaned in close to Margarita, tilting her head to look at her. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Miss Apple, what were you thinking about when Joshua touched your face?”
Margarita’s hand stopped mid-search.
“...I wasn't thinking about anything.”
“Who are you trying to fool?”
“I really wasn't.” Margarita pulled out her clothes. “I was just a little surprised.”
“Surprised by what?”
“He had roasted cake crumbs on his hand.”
Lovell burst out laughing, crouching on the floor while slapping the edge of the bed as her red ponytail swung to and fro. Margarita’s face grew hot again as she changed her clothes with her back turned.
She truly didn't know what she was thinking.
When she fell into Joshua’s arms, all her calculations about routes, plots, and timelines had ground to a halt. All that remained was the warmth of his palm against her skin and that heart thumping wildly in her chest.
This feeling was too unfamiliar. In her two lifetimes combined, she had never met anyone who could make her brain stop functioning. Even when Constance was digging a pit for her to fall into, she was thinking about how to find an opportunity to dig one right back. Why didn't that work with Joshua?
You brat... how dare you use magic against me...
“Little Mari,” Lovell leaned in again, her amber eyes sparkling. “Are you...”
“No.”
“I haven't finished my sentence.”
“No matter what you’re about to say, the answer is no.”
Lovell looked even more amused. She flopped back onto the bed, her long legs kicking in the air as she hummed a little tune she’d picked up from somewhere. Margarita knew what she was doing; the little redhead was waiting for Margarita to break first and start talking.
But she didn't want to talk, mostly because she didn't know what to say herself. She just felt like the inn was stifling. She wanted to go out, catch the sea breeze, and let her brain cool down.
She changed back into her white short-sleeved shirt, put on the forget-me-not necklace, casually pulled her white hair to one side to braid it into a loose side-braid, and picked up her wide-brimmed hat, ready to head out.
“Where are you going?” Lovell flipped upright on the bed.
“Going for a stroll.”
“I’m coming too.” She reached for the small bag at the head of the bed.
“Didn't you just spend all of yesterday strolling?”
“That’s different,” Lovell was already geared up, fearing Margarita might run off without her. “I had to act when I was with Joshua, but with you, I can play as much as I want.”
Margarita stood at the door looking at her, suddenly remembering Joshua’s report from last night—the spotter only recognized Lovell. They had wiped out one of the Sacrosanct Circle’s strongholds in Arlan, but the Diestwald family was still here. If those noble lords found Lovell alone on the street, there was no telling what might happen.
“No,” Margarita said.
“There you go again,” Lovell crossed her arms. “Is what you do any less dangerous? When you were using yourself as bait, did you ask for our opinion?”
“...”
Margarita fell silent. Lovell was right. When she was playing the part of a Windermere branch lady in the tavern, she truly hadn't considered whether she and Constance could escape unscathed if there were more people behind the fake Grey, or if the Diestwalds had sent high-tier combatants.
“Then... what do you want to do?”
Lovell looked at her and suddenly smiled, her two little canines showing, her eyes full of mischief.
“If we’re discovered,” Lovell giggled as she stepped forward and hooked her arm through Margarita’s, “then I’ll take you for a run through Arlan. They only recognize me anyway, so if I’m the one leading you, we’ll dive into the crowds and weave through the alleys. I’d like to see if they understand Arlan better than I do.”
She held on tight, and Margarita couldn't shake her off. She sighed. “Fine, but you have to listen to me if something happens.”
“Of course I’ll listen to you, Madam Consultant.” Lovell tugged her toward the door. “Come on, let’s go. There’s a fish market near the harbor with fresh, cheap seafood. It opens in the afternoon and it’s always packed. We can buy some and find someone to grill it for us.”
Margarita stumbled after her as she was pulled along. The two of them exited the inn, the afternoon sun spilling down from above. Margarita pulled her wide-brimmed hat low and scanned their surroundings.
Sacrosanct Circle, I’m in a good mood today. You’d better not show your faces.
Rate on N.U.
