Recollections of the final day of the harvest festival flooded her mind, particularly the image of Rezette gazing at her with a rare display of admiration as she reluctantly adorned herself in finery. It was a departure from his usual stoicism, a glimpse of hidden depths.
“If only he had shown such enthusiasm before, I might have worn them more frequently,” she mused, lamenting the missed opportunities.
Now, those garments would never again see the light of day.
The following day, Ivetsa arrived with a selection of plain peasant clothes suitable for their impending journey. Meanwhile, Elise had spent several days meticulously preparing provisions, spare clothing, and other necessities for their escape and subsequent concealment, all of which were stashed in an abandoned mountain cottage nestled amidst the peaks.
“Thank you, Ivetsa,” Elise expressed her gratitude.
“It’s my duty to serve my mistress,” Ivetsa replied dutifully.
“…No. You’re not just serving me faithfully; you’re also involved in this conspiracy,” Elise acknowledged with a pang of guilt. She had always harbored reservations about dragging Ivetsa into their scheme.
“You needn’t accompany me into enemy territory. This is your homeland, after all,” Elise insisted.
Elise had made the difficult decision that Ivetsa couldn’t accompany her all the way to the southern lands. Her plan was to part ways with Ivetsa shortly after departing from Rotiara. She gingerly extended a jewelry box she had meticulously prepared in advance, intending it as a token of gratitude and support for Ivetsa’s future endeavors.
However, Ivetsa promptly declined the offering.
“Your Highness, if I’m caught aiding you by His Highness, the Duke, I’ll meet my end then and there,” Ivetsa asserted firmly.
“That’s… that’s…” Elise faltered.
“I am willingly risking my life to assist Your Highness, therefore you must also bear responsibility for me,” Ivetsa continued, her tone resolute. “Besides, I have no family to look after me. I hail from a fallen noble lineage. This frigid country holds no sentimental value for me. A move to a warmer southern locale wouldn’t be unwelcome, don’t you agree?” Ivetsa reasoned.
With Ivetsa’s refusal, the jewelry box Elise had prepared remained untouched, finding its place in a drawer instead.
“These rare jewels are practically like identification papers. The finest gems are cataloged along with the jeweler’s mark. The moment I attempt to pawn them, I’d be apprehended. It’s wiser to possess items like buttons or modest brooches; unassuming in appearance, yet crafted from pure gold and much less conspicuous,” Ivetsa explained sagely.
“I see… How did you come by such knowledge?” Elise inquired, impressed by Ivetsa’s insight.
“When I was young, my family fell into ruin, and I was forced to flee from creditors who sought to sell me off. It lasted for about three years. Eventually, a distant relative provided refuge, and I secured a position as a maid in the Duke’s manor in the capital. As long as I remained within its walls, the creditors dared not pursue me,” Ivetsa recounted with a wistful smile.
“Of course, His Highness likely never envisioned that a maid plucked from obscurity like myself would end up being used as a safeguard,” Ivetsa added with a chuckle. “But I cannot liken myself to those lowly creditors or His Highness. Nevertheless, I have witnessed mountains ablaze in the night, navigated rivers teeming with bandits, and traversed endless snowy plains. It is far better to journey with someone seasoned than to brave the unknown alone. Therefore, let us embark together, Your Highness.”
With tears brimming in her eyes, Elise tenderly offered the jewelry box to Ivetsa. Who could easily turn away from someone so visibly vulnerable? Ivetsa swallowed her words, silently acknowledging the innocence still preserved within Elise.
Elise paused to contemplate for a moment before reaching her own resolution.
“Then I’ll protect you too,” she declared firmly.
“Is that a promise?” Ivetsa inquired, seeking assurance.
“Yeah. I promise on my name that I won’t let anything harm you or allow you to come to harm,” Elise affirmed, her voice resolute.
Ivetsa smiled warmly, her expression conveying both gratitude and trust. Elise understood that Ivetsa’s reassuring smile and the anecdotes she shared were intended to ease her apprehensions.
An oath involving the name and honor of the aristocracy carried significant weight. Elise had never before pledged her name in agreement with another person. Yet, for Ivetsa, she was willing to make such a solemn vow repeatedly. Without the steadfast presence of this affectionate and courageous maid, Elise doubted she would have endured her trials alone. Ivetsa’s eyes glimmered with approval at Elise’s declaration.
“Then take care not to burden your heart unnecessarily, and focus on looking after yourself,” Ivetsa advised gently.
“Yeah. Thank you,” Elise responded, her gratitude evident.
Even in Ivetsa’s presence, Elise struggled to muster an appetite, but she persevered in finishing her meal nonetheless.
***
However, it wasn’t until two days later that Elise began to sense that something was amiss.
A heaviness settled in her chest, accompanied by an uncomfortable sensation. Initially, she attributed it to the soreness from the physical strain imposed by Rezette, but the discomfort persisted. Even the gentlest touch elicited sharp pains, as if something were constricted within both sides of her chest.
The symptoms bore a resemblance to those preceding her menstrual cycle, yet despite waiting patiently, there were no signs of its onset.
