“Heehee, what a gentleman you are, Arnold. I knew it the moment we met.”

  They walked together along the dirt path. Mary hopped lightly through patches of mud, lifting her skirt just enough to keep it from soaking, waving enthusiastically at every villager she recognized. Some waved back with knowing smiles, others laughed at her energy.

  "Good afternoon, Mister Oscar!"

  "Good day to you, young Mary. Bright as ever, I see." The old man returned her greeting, wiping his brow with his rag.

  "Pray, a good day to you too, Mrs Bell!"

  "Good day, Mary. Please give my regards to your father. I will surely repay his logs." The woman waved a hand and turned back to her laundry.

  In Mary hand, she clutched the small, embroidered handkerchief that Arnold had given her.

  Arnold only silently followed her. On his elbow was the heavy wicker basket that he carried for her, filled with the day's unsold flowers.

  They were heading toward the Lost Sherphen Pub, where Arnold was meant to meet the thugs and exchange information.

  She skipped through a patch of pebbles, practically running with her small feet, scampering across it and smiling back at him.

  "Is it not droll?" she laughed. “I often use such jests to joke with girls my own age. It is the surest way to make friends! They laugh heartily at it, they do!” She giggled and covered her mouth. “‘Mary, you are so silly!’ they say. Heehee!”

  A gentle wind brushed through them, leaves and faint dust drifting across the sunlight.

  The smell of earth, smell of a hot, freshly baked loaf, and distant smoke from chimneys lingered in the background.

  Gradually, she slowed her pace. Her steps became more measured. Her gaze remained forward, fixed on the road ahead.

  “But so readily you agreed…” She turned her head, looking at his eyes with her wide brown eyes.

  “Do you truly mean it? Can I really become one?” She tilted her head, fiddling with the end of her braid.

  “Of course.”

  Arnold confirmed it one more time. He saw no reason why she couldn’t.

  It was not encouragement, at least to him. To Arnold, the girl was bright, talkative, and extremely extroverted. He felt like this girl had the extroverted energy of five children combined. A girl like this, if she really devoted herself to something, would succeed through sheer momentum alone.

  ‘Well, she only can’t if she’s dead,’ he chuckled under his breath.

  "Heehee... that truly took me by surprise." She smiled, pulling her hair toward her cheek with her two hands. "Were it not for your unique look, Arnold, I might have lost my heart to you!” She giggled, a playful glint in her eyes.

  ‘Izzy…’ Isa’s sudden voice rang out.

  ‘No, wait, Isa, it’s not intentional!’ Izzy jolted, startled by the sudden accusation, frantically shaking her head in denial. ‘ I didn’t do anything!’

  ‘It’s not what it looks like!’ Izzy prepared to defend herself, but on second thought—

  ‘Hold on… hey!’ Realization struck. Izzy snapped back and grabbed the young mind’s cheeks. ‘You cheeky little—!’

  ‘…pfft, ahahaha!’

  This impudent… Isa imitated her! She was mocking Izzy’s own tendency to scold!

  Izzy sighed, she returned back to Arnold’s perspective.

  Mary was now stepping side by side with him, leaning in closer with a conspiratorial smirk.

  "I begin to wonder whether Bennet is the better choice after all!"

  ‘You are only, like, fourteen, stop it!’ Izzy shouted in Arnold’s head, clearly lost for words.

  Why was this dreamy girl already imagining her future like this? This was so wrong! Children should be thinking about toys and sweets, not marriage prospects!

  “Besides, there will be no Vine if I follow you! That means, I can…” She suddenly stopped mid-sentence, covering her mouth “Ah!”

  ‘What now?’ Arnold grimaced. He couldn’t guess what was on this young creature's mind; this was all new territory for him.

  “That… flower.” Mary sighed deeply, her shoulders drooping. “I gained a new rival once again…”

  “...”

  The forget-me-not that Arnold had bought from her yesterday, to give to the other vessel, Arriet.

  ‘Does she mean that flower?’ Did she misunderstand something?

  But if that misunderstanding discouraged her from continuing down this strange train of thought, then he would honestly welcome it.

  Mary looked at him for a moment, a wave of unreadable expression flickering across her face. Then her smile stretched wider into a grin, her eyes narrowing with mischievous delight.

  “I’m only jesting, my friend!” She slapped Arnold’s arm with her small hand.

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  The strike was… unnoticeable. There was no strength in it, barely a feather’s touch, but it was enough to make Arnold raise his eyebrows in mild annoyance.

  ‘This one, really.’ Arnold suddenly wondered whether calling her his friend had been a wise choice.

  Mary’s expression returned to her usual cheerful smile. She kicked a pebble off the path, sending it skittering into the dirt, and clasped her hands behind her back as she walked.

  “But truly, thank you, Arnold,” she said more softly. “No one has ever agreed with me before.”

  ‘Of course they haven’t. You’re barely fourteen,’ Arnold sighed inwardly and shook his head.

  Still, knowing it was a sensitive topic, he refrained from voicing his thoughts. Instead, he slipped back into the polite, sociable mask he usually wore.

  “Not even your father?”

  Since her father was the one who taught her, he should have been the one encouraging her the most, shouldn’t he?

  To be honest, he found the way that man taught her quite questionable. But each household knew their child best, and it was not up to Arnold to interfere.

  “...”

  Mary stopped walking. She turned back toward him and offered a bittersweet smile.

  “I’m a girl.”

  “…oh.”

  He understood.

  How could a girl become strong and brave? In his knowledge of this era, women were treated unfairly, bound by rigid expectations and limited roles. It was something Arnold remembered from history in his past life.

  ‘But…isn’t she too smart for her age?’ To be practically aware of how the world worked was not simple… Oftentimes, those people were the ones who suffered the most.

  "I wished to help him," she continued, her voice quieter now. "To ease our burden, even a little, but..." She sighed, her gaze drifting somewhere far away.

  "He wishes me to be more feminine. To learn sewing, housework, literature. So that one day I may marry into a better household." She skipped a step again, a forced cheerfulness in the movement.

  "My Pa wishes me to wed a prosperous man and live a life of peace and comfort."

  “…”

  "He is a lumberman, you see. Each day he goes out, fells trees in the forest, and sells them to the villagers."

  She hopped over another muddy patch.

  "We often dreamed of the great city. Of bettering our lot. And for that, I must learn what I ought..."

  They didn’t have much choice. It was a poor life, a struggle for survival. Poverty left little room for dreams.

  “But I don’t blame him. I love him best in all the world..."

  She smiled, a genuine warmth breaking through the sadness.

  “Because… he is the only one I have left…”

  “...”

  Arnold clenched his hands.

  He understood her feeling.

  The hollow ache of losing someone, and the desperate need to treasure the only one left. It resonated with something deep inside Izzy’s memories as well.

  Arnold looked at Mary again. In his eyes now, she was no longer just the bright, energetic girl he had first met.

  She was bold, but that’s because she wanted to be strong and brave, like the father she adored.

  The girl stopped. She looked back at him and smiled brightly, pointing ahead.

  “Here we are, Arnold. The Lost Shepherd!”

  Arnold smiled back. He reached into his coat, took out ten shillings and an Alan coin, and placed them into her hand.

  Mary’s eyes widened.

  “A–Arnold, I don’t need—”

  “Shh.” He pressed the coins firmly into her palm.

  “This is advance payment. I’ll need your help many times in the future. Just take it.”

  The girl looked down at her hand with a complicated gaze, torn between pride and need.

  “Just take it. I have plenty more left.”

  Finally, after a long moment of hesitation, Mary nodded.

  “...Thank you, Arnold.”

  She looked up again, her eyes shining.

  "Where do you lodge, Arnold? Nobles seldom come here, and I doubt you are Madam's guest."

  Arnold blinked. So sudden?

  “Well…” She touched her fingers together nervously. "I wish to repay you for this... somehow."

  She raised her hand with determination.

  “Just say a word. I’ll repay you without fail!"

  Arnold nodded. Since she had put it that way, then…

  “From the east, there is a mansion there,” he said, pointing in the eastern direction.

  Mary’s eyes widened.

  “Mansion? …The east?”

  He chuckled.

  “Right. That is where I reside.”

  Now that she mentioned it, since the conversation had turned this way, maybe he could ask the question that he had held off for a long time?

  “By the way, when will the Rite start?”

  Mary tilted her head thoughtfully. She raised one finger, lips moving silently as she counted on her fingers. After a brief pause, she lifted four fingers confidently toward him.

  “Four days hence!”

  Four days!

  ‘That’s far too soon,’ Arnold thought inwardly, a jolt of urgency running through him.

  Today was Moonday. He had just finished the church class this morning. In four days’ time, it would be Friday.

  That meant they only had three full days left before the Herald potentially arrived.

  Judging from the villagers' festive preparations and the general atmosphere of anticipation, he should have expected it. But he had thought they likely had a week or more. Who would have thought time was so short?

  “The Rite is customarily held for a week!” Mary continued, beaming with excitement. “The moon shall be at its fullest on Moonday next week, the very Day of the Moon!”

  Her voice was bright and full of anticipation, but inside Arnold, everything was in turmoil.

  ‘Then that means next week… the ritual meant to awaken me would begin?’

  He hoped that the Herald would come at that time, rather than arriving prematurely on Friday to prepare.

  For now, one thing was clear. He needed to prepare to leave the mansion immediately.

  ‘If that were the case, I need a safe route out of this place.’

  Arnold wasn't quite sure why it was, but something uneasy tucked in his mind, telling him it would be a dangerous journey.

  “Do you know a good route to leave for another tow–?”

  Before he finished his sentence, a surge of pressure weighed on his own heart.

  '...'

  All eyes in the vicinity turned to him at once.

  Mary paused. She stopped smiling.

  —

  (Moonday, four days left before the full moon Rite starts.)