Silvie remembered the emotions she felt when she witnessed the violet ink and became trapped within the canvas; it was an instinct, almost animalistic, that compelled her to understand the intricacies of a scripter.
Lady Evelyn merely gazed at her servant, contemplating the question of how she had performed such a miracle.
The silence only made the servant weary. Even though the store owner hadn't said a word, she concluded that it might have been a mistake to ask such a question
Then, her mistress walked toward the counter's seat, assumed a cross-legged position, and considered the proper way to address Silvie's request.
"Take a seat with me, Silvie." Lady Evelyn gestured to the chair beside her.
Silvie obeyed. Each of her steps was rather stiff; it would take a while for her movements to return to ordinary. The store owner offered assistance with her walking; however, the servant steeled herself, politely refused, and made her way to her seat.
Sir Daishi acknowledged her subtle efforts, then the gentleman moved behind the counter and began preparing beverages, iced coffee, to be precise.
"Am I understanding you correctly, you wish to become a Scripter?" Lady Evelyn inquired of her servant.
Sir Daishi listened to his lady's words. Silvie had only asked how the phenomenon worked; he didn't recall her asking to become a Scripter.
Yet Lady Evelyn seemed willing to entertain the idea, guiding the conversation in that direction; to the gentleman, it was an unusual leniency from the mistress, as the topic of becoming a Scripter was normally far too sensitive to broach.
Silvie heard it. She knew she had to be bold, especially with the opportunity before her. "Lady Evelyn, I beseech you to teach me..."
But the shop owner chimed in, sliding iced coffee onto the counter. Both the mistress and the servant appreciated the gesture. "Silvie wishes to be a Scripter? But such a thing won't be so easy, right, Lady Evelyn?" said the man.
Daishi decided to add more of his perspective. "I believe it is worth the attempt. Lady Evelyn, can you imagine the kind of script she might manifest?" he said, choosing to vouch for the servant.
Lady Evelyn found herself lost in deep thought. She, too, was curious about what kind of Script Silvie might come to possess if ever granted the opportunity, and whether it would prove beneficial to her purpose.
The mistress took a small sip of her coffee before speaking. "Admittedly, I intend to make you a Scripter, but there are certain matters we must take into consideration first."
"Lady Evelyn. Please, tell me," Silvie said softly.
Daishi, on the other hand, was taken aback. The mistress already intended to make her a Scripter? A newly purchased slave being granted such a privilege from the start?
The air inside the pastry shop felt heavy. Lady Evelyn took a moment to consider her servant's question; no one could quite tell what the mistress had in mind.
"This is your first day meeting us, and, to be frank, Silvie... though you are my servant, and, by law, belong to me, one question remains important."
"Is your loyalty owed merely to the fact that you serve me, or is it sufficient to follow my ambitions? Loyal enough that we might risk granting you the power of a Scripter?"
"The reality is that granting such power entails immense danger; it is a responsibility we regard with the utmost consideration."
Silvie listened with an open heart and mind. An adequate amount of time to deepen their connection had not yet passed, but she understood where they were coming from.
"Lady Evelyn, Sir Daishi, is there any way for me to prove my loyalty to you both?" she asked. Silvie felt as if she were part of an organization, or something of the sort.
"Lady Evelyn, have you told her what we do here?" the store owner asked. He sat on the other side of the counter, drinking the darkest coffee mankind had ever seen.
"I have not," Lady Evelyn admitted. She turned to her servant and continued, "Silvie, listen closely. What I'm about to tell you is strictly confidential. Do you understand?"
"–I understand, Lady Evelyn," Silvie replied, though a question nagged at her mind: beyond being both a painter and a Scripter, what else was her mistress truly capable of? However, she remembered a particular moment in the alley, Demiscus's words.
"If Lady Evelyn had enough wealth to purchase me and is not from a noble bloodline, then what could she be?" The servant awaited her mistress's words.
Yet, something was odd...
Silvie braced herself for the revelation, but she had already reached a conclusion based on everything that had transpired. After all, to her, her Lady and Sir Daishi seemed to be confessing to a... crime....
It was definitely something that would shatter her expectations...
Lady Evelyn composed herself, elegantly recrossing her legs beneath the counter, anticipation in her eyes as she awaited her servant's reaction to the next revelation.
"Silvie, we do many heinous things..."
The servant swallowed hard, bracing herself for what was to come.
"We have a name, The Malefactors. We traffic in illicit substances for the public. We have enemies who would not hesitate to take our lives, just as we would not hesitate to take theirs."
"Among us, morality holds no meaning. Men, women, even children, each is nothing more than a variable to be exploited."
"That is the price of serving me..."
The servant, for a mere moment, was disappointed... Her heart sank, and time momentarily slowed down.
When she first laid eyes on her, the woman seemed like a savior, an enigmatic figure of nobility. Her initial impression of Lady Evelyn was that of royalty, or at least someone of noble birth.
It never crossed her mind that Lady Evelyn belonged to a criminal organization, one of the forces contributing to the gloom over Gravenhurst.
"The funds that were spent to save me from slavery and Karlen Magnus's hands... it all came from the drug trade, from their unlawful dealings..."
"I'm at a loss for words..."
A malevolent fate, an innocence led astray, ensnared in the strings of illicit substances and clandestine pursuits; the sinful act of ruining purity.
Chapter End...