Rain stared up into the touring stone infrastructure and the golden fences. An entourage of butlers and maids lined up at the arched gate seemingly awaiting her.
"You… you're…"
He had a suspicion, but before he could confront her, she put a finger to his lip, silencing him.
"Just follow."
She gave him that gentle, secretive smile that he would always give Syme–looks like the tables had turned now.
Rain followed her, playing his part as just a peasant man and sustaining weird glances from the estate workers.
From afar, a tall, olive-faced man, likely 30, with the same grey-colored hair as Eve approached them as they crossed the lawn towards the main building.
"How was the trip, sister?" the man asked.
"Expedient. Same as always." Eve responded coldly, not offering a glance at him.
"Why do you treat me so coldly sister? And who is this beggar behind you?" He hit her with a barrage of questions, maintaining a heart-aching expression–though Rain could tell he was being dramatic.
"Come," Eve called to Rain, ignoring her brother's questions entirely. It seemed usual for her.
"You can't just bring any beggar into the estate, Evelynn. We have an image to maintain."
He started shouting now, incensed by Eve's blatant disregard for him and his face.
"Come, ignore him," she said once again to Rain as they walked into the main building.
Before so, Rain had peered over his shoulder, finding a scolding glare pointed straight at him. This guy would be nothing but trouble it would seem.
"If he causes you trouble, come talk to me. He's always been like that because my father said he was going to pass on the family to me instead of him, the male heir. Since then he's never been the same. Just don't mind it too much."
Eve explained it like it wasn't some big deal but…
"You're the heiress!?" Rain exclaimed, shocked by the revelation.
At first, he had thought she was just a visiting noble, but it turns out she was not just from the Ventura family but the heiress?
What have I gotten myself into…?
They continued to walk down the hall decorated with woolen red carpets and gold adornments plastered everywhere.
Eventually, they arrived in a grand room at the end of the hall. It was like the room offered to them at the church except more lavish, evident of the tastes of nobility.
"You'll be staying here. Now, go take a shower and get changed into something more… tasteful."
"You know… you still haven't told me what I'm supposed to be doing," Rain complained a little, not trying to be ungracious for his situation.
"Oh, right. You just have to follow me around and keep me entertained," she smiled, hinting to him that there was likely more to the job than what she was telling him.
"Okay…" he resigned to his fate.
Soon, he found himself in the shower.
The water was warm as it rolled down his back, carrying with it the dirt, blood and grime from fighting.
The steam began to rise up the golden showerhead, covering the mirror with a light layer of mist.
I wonder how Syme is doing.
He had let Syme go unmonitored for the time being as he focused on fighting the boars. And since then, he had forgotten about it.
But now it was time to check up on his precious little subject.
*******
Syme sat cross-legged in a room, silently consolidating energy around her core.
On her hand was a sun-shaped stigmata that lit barely aglow in the dark room. That was the mark of the light goddess imprinted on all practitioners of the church when they reached the third level.
It seemed she was doing well for herself; she was working equally hard.
With her affinity for light, she soared through the power system, easily learning the church's hardest techniques which would take others decades (or forever).
Still, rising in ranks took time, and it took much more than simply affinity but also enlightenment–the sort of epiphany or understanding that was unique only to oneself. One that would eventually come through discovery, battles, and even just the randomness of life.
She was on the verge of a breakthrough, but she was just missing something. It frustrated her.
But just as she was about to push those negative thoughts to the back of her mind, another source of dread came over her.
'Heya, how's it going over there?'
It was that damned devil.
'Am I not welcome to have a chat with you anymore?' Rain teased.
'Please, I need to focus.'
'Come on, just take a break, you're at a bottleneck anyways.'
'Sitting there isn't helping,' Rain said as he glided his hand through Syme's hair through their connection.
And even though he was far, far away physically, his control over her allowed the experience to be felt.
She could feel her hair being tousled and his hands resting over her shoulder like he always did.
His cold breath was over the right side of her ear, whispering… it was colder now.
It reminded her of their first meeting when he had pinned her to the ground, tricking her into his eternal servitude.
And she hated it. She hated not having control. But her memories sometimes would fail her, bringing back the time she seemed to maniacally adore the tightening of his leash on her as the blood of that mother's heart slid down her throat.
It was a thought that haunted her in sleep often. It was what she wished most to dream away.
'How about you just accept me? I can tell that deep down you already have. Stop hiding it away, Syme,' Rain taunted.
'No, no, stop.'
She would rebel at the first moment she could–at least that's what she told herself. But at the current moment, that idea just seemed to be another hopeless dream.
'Don't work yourself too hard.'
Then he left. She could feel that he had left her be for now.
'...' She sat there in contemplation. He had said something seemingly out of care this time. And as much as she hated to think about it, she couldn't stop the thought from surfacing.
Does he really care about me?
It was a dangerous, and likely foolish idea she knew, but alas it was what it was for now; she pretended to pay it little mind.