The weekend—a drowsy, languid weekend.
Ever since she’d indulged in a feast of blood at Otis’s place last time, Hill hadn’t gone out to hunt at night even once.
Liches, sheriffs—none of that had anything to do with her.
Hill was nothing more than a youthful, radiant, and optimistic student with a thirst for learning. Normally, even catching sight of a mouse or a bug would scare her witless—how could she possibly have any connection to those supernatural beings?
As the first faint glimmer of morning light slipped through the narrow gap at the edge of the small town and crept to Hill’s window, her delicate, long lashes fluttered just a bit. Her sharp hearing picked up the sound of horses neighing outside the apartment—it was the Mountbatten family’s carriage, come to fetch her.
To avoid keeping the kind coachman waiting and to maintain her own dignified image, Hill got out of bed almost without hesitation. She quickly fetched a basin of icy cold water and began to wash up right at the apartment’s entrance.
Soon, a young girl, light on her feet, made her way to the carriage that had been waiting for quite some time.
“Good morning, sir!”
The coachman, bored from waiting, was jolted to attention by the girl’s sweet voice. He turned his head to see Hill, dressed in her apprentice’s robe, standing prettily before him.
The girl had always been beautiful, but after trading her somewhat stiff academy uniform for the purple apprentice robe, her youthful vibrancy gained an added touch of graceful mystery.
“Oh, good—good morning.” The coachman paused, almost unable to believe this was the girl he was supposed to pick up. But that lovely face was one he saw every week—impossible to forget.
Hill walked to the carriage door and climbed in, not forgetting to say politely, “Sir, we’re ready to depart.”
The coachman quickly regained his composure. He flicked his whip and said, “Hold on tight, my beautiful lady.”
“Hill!”
At the entrance of the Mountbatten family estate, Otis had also shed her staid academy uniform, dressing much more in line with her status as a noble young lady. For such a lady to wait at the door herself, it could only be for a truly important guest.
The approaching carriage gradually halted at the estate’s entrance. Hill waited for it to stop before carefully lifting the corner of her apprentice robe and slipping out of the carriage. Her nimble black boots touched the ground, making two soft clicks, like pressing the keys of a piano.
Seeing her dearest friend—the one she’d thought of day and night—Otis felt a wave of heat spread from her neck to the tips of her ears, and her heartbeat began to race. She even forgot some of her noble manners, and all restraint befitting a young lady vanished as she lifted her heavy skirts and strode toward Hill.
Facing each other, the two girls—already well known as the closest of friends—naturally performed their unique “greeting ceremony.”
Otis was a bit hesitant, her posture slightly stiff, as if she wanted to do something but was still wavering. But Hill had no such hesitation. She walked up with light, assured steps and, without the slightest pause, gave Otis a big, warm hug.
This area was already private property. The Mountbatten family was wealthy enough to buy all the land around the estate, so there were hardly any passersby. Knowing this, Hill could be so enthusiastic—she certainly didn’t want to embarrass her friend for no reason.
The two hugged tightly. Otis had expected this from Hill, but when it actually happened, she was still a bit at a loss. Hill’s body was slightly cool, but her heartbeat was exceptionally strong.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump…
Each heartbeat seemed to tug at Otis’s heart.
But a noble’s hug rarely lasted long—too lengthy an embrace might be mistaken for improper behavior, even if both were young ladies.
Soon, their embrace—brief as it was—ended in Otis’s reluctant regret and Hill’s satisfied contentment.
“It’s cold out here.” Otis took Hill’s cool little hand and said, “Let’s go inside quickly. The fireplace has been burning for a while, it’s warm and cozy inside.”
“Alright, I simply must thank Miss Mountbatten for her hospitality.” Hill’s radiant smile made Otis stare in a daze for a moment.
She really didn’t understand—at school, they were always fine, sitting side by side in class, yet rarely felt this heart-racing, awkward feeling. Was it because this was home, and she unconsciously set down many of her burdens, so thoughts she’d suppressed inevitably surfaced?
Inside the warm estate, even though it wasn’t her first time here, Hill couldn’t help but marvel: “What a wonderful place.”
Warm, spacious, luxurious…
So many good points, she could hardly count them all.
Hill wasn’t like those ascetic monks from the Holy Light Church—of course, she longed for a beautiful, comfortable life.
But, once she became an Extraordinary, she would probably pass the kingdom’s Examiner’s review and inherit the Hamilton family’s house—her true home. Although still not as grand as the Mountbatten estate, it would be dozens or even hundreds of times better than her shabby little flat now.
“Welcome, Miss Hill.”
A gentle, refined voice sounded at her ear. Hill was momentarily distracted, then turned to see Madame Anna, sitting gracefully in the center of the sofa. Her legs were together, dressed in a deep blue long dress that stopped just at her ankles, with her feet in white stockings resting in slippers—so lovely, one couldn’t help but stare.
Hill knew this, too. To avoid rudeness, she quickly greeted the noble lady, “Good morning, Madame Anna. You look in wonderful health today.”
“Is that so?” Everyone who met Madame Anna praised her like that—she’d almost grown tired of hearing it.
Truthfully, she preferred Hill’s rather flamboyant praise the first time they’d met. It might not have been novel, but it was memorable.
Last time her daughter came home, she’d told her: Hill had passed the trial set by that Sequence Two Magician—Inks—and was now the apprentice of that great personage.
A Sequence Two Magician! Even among the Extraordinary, most magicians didn’t have the restrictions and rules placed on church clergy. That meant they were often more free and more easily befriended—nobles loved them.
Heaven knew how thrilled Madame Anna had been when she first heard the news. She was happy her daughter had made such a friend, and delighted the Mountbatten family might gain a powerful ally.
What could she do? Her husband was just too unreliable. The business he ran in Taishi City looked prosperous, but always left her with an uneasy, discordant feeling. Madame Anna didn’t love her husband, but she did love her three children, so she had to plan ahead.
“Before going to the study for lessons, would Miss Hill like a cup of hot milk?” Madame Anna waved, signaling a servant to bring over the already-prepared hot milk.
Fine china clinked with crystal glasses, ringing out a crisp, delightful note, like the beginning of a grand musical piece.
The rich fragrance of milk filled the warm room. Hill, already a bit hungry, felt her stomach tighten with a slight cramp.
She glanced at Otis beside her. She’d planned to save all her appetite for her dearest friend.
But… while milk wasn’t exactly filling, she really couldn’t resist its flavor.
Perhaps this was the difference between a proper meal and a snack.
“Then I shall accept your kind offer. Thank you, Madame Anna.”
In the end, Hill couldn’t withstand the temptation of hot milk. She sat at the table, accepting the crystal glass from the maid.
A pleasant warmth seeped into her fingers. Doing her best to remain elegant, Hill raised the glass to her lips and tipped it back, slowly swallowing the milky white drink.
Gulp~ gulp~ gulp~ gulp~
Hill’s eyes narrowed slightly, her expression full of enjoyment, a faint blush blooming on her cheeks.
One had to admit—Hill’s appearance at that moment was rather… alluring.
The lady only smiled, thinking the child’s way of eating was too cute, and shifted into a more relaxed pose on the sofa, quietly watching.
Otis, however, was transfixed, a strange emotion welling up in her heart—was her blood really not as good as hot milk?
Jealous of a cup of milk, Otis snapped out of it, realizing how ridiculous she was being.
Mother and daughter, each with their own thoughts, found their eyes—almost unconsciously—drawn to the young girl.